John grabbed the book, his eyes burning with anticipation. He needed to know what lay ahead and where it would take him.
He started reading, expecting the usual sensation of being transported to another place. But this time, nothing happened. He read halfway through the book, yet there was no shift, no change. Disappointed, he set it aside and decided to go downstairs to find something to eat.
As he walked, he suddenly felt a wet sensation beneath his feet. Pausing, he looked down—and his heart nearly stopped. Blood.
Panic surged through him. "What?! Blood? Is it mine? No... wait, I didn't do anything to get injured... OH NO! MOM!"
John's voice echoed through the house as he ran, searching desperately for Alina. The more he looked around, the more blood he found. Drops led from the restroom to the kitchen, and even onto the grass outside. His mind raced, torn between fear, curiosity, and confusion. Instinctively, he drew from what he had learned from Sasaki's journey. Blood meant someone was hurt—it could be a thief, a wild animal attack, or something worse. This was his chance to train himself, to prove his dedication to the challenge, to his dream of exploring the world.
Following the trail, John reached the garden at the back of the house. There, he found Alina sitting in her favorite spot, gazing at the scenery. The green and orange trees swayed gently, birds flitted about, singing, and the crisp air felt refreshing.
"Mom!" he called, but she did not turn. He approached, tapping her back multiple times, but she remained still. Concerned, he stepped in front of her and sat on the grass, crossing his legs.
"Mom, did you see the drops of blood all over the house? From the restroom to the kitchen—I even saw some on the grass!"
Alina chuckled. "Oh, that? Hahaha! Are you sure you'll survive alone when you're done with the challenge? That's just... uh... tomato sauce. I was hungry, and I guess I made a mess while eating. Some must've dripped onto my dress, leaving marks that look like blood."
John narrowed his eyes. Something felt off. "I don't know exactly what happened, but I'm sure she's hiding something. She never hesitates when she talks."
She waved her spoon at him. "Hey, kid, don't let your mind control you. I'm still eating—look at me!"
She playfully tapped him on the head with her spoon. John chuckled, apologizing before heading back upstairs.
Alina sighed, watching him leave. "That boy... he's already practicing with his books, reacting differently. It's like he never had autism. Normally, he would never let something like this go... but this time, he did. I could see it in his eyes—he knows something is wrong."
Two Hours Earlier
Alina entered the house, clutching her neck with her left hand, a book in her right. As she dropped the book near John, small drops of blood trickled from her fingers. She hadn't noticed them; otherwise, she would have cleaned them up. She quickly stopped the bleeding and went to the kitchen to make tomato sauce, her mind racing.
"I have to make something up so John won't feel bad. If he knew I risked my life to get that book, he'd stop reading. Those foolish villagers... they're scared of me just because I have more knowledge than them. That doesn't make me a witch!"
Earlier that day, when she had gone down to the village, the villagers had pointed at her, whispering to their children. She ignored them, focusing on her mission—to retrieve the book.
She arrived at Lina's house, the same woman John had helped last time. It was far from her own home, at the other end of the village. When she knocked, the door opened within seconds. Alina's eyes widened at the sight—bruises covered Lina's face, hands, and chest.
"What can I help you with?" Lina asked.
"Oh. Yes, I almost forgot. Do you remember the book that fell on you?"
"Yes, I have it. Why?"
"I need it. Can you please return it to me?"
Lina nodded. "Yeah, sure. Wait here."
As Lina disappeared inside, Alina quickly scribbled something onto a piece of paper. When Lina returned, handing her the book, Alina shook her hand, slipping the paper into her palm discreetly before turning to leave.
Outside, a group of children awaited her, their hands full of rocks. She couldn't run—she was too old for that—but she refused to change direction. She walked forward, unfazed by their shouting. Luckily, the children were not strong enough to inflict serious damage.
She shielded the book by hugging it to her chest as the stones struck her back and neck. Just as she thought they would stop, an adult's voice rang out:
"AIM FOR THE HEAD! AIM FOR THE HEAD!"
The next volley hit her head, neck, and back. Blood trickled from the wounds, but she pressed on, finally reaching her house. The barrage ceased as soon as she stepped inside.
Determined, she had proceeded with her plan—making tomato sauce, walking around, and deliberately spilling some to ensure her story seemed plausible. Technically, she hadn't lied, but she had hesitated when John questioned her. She hadn't expected him to sit so calmly, and she cared for him deeply. That hesitation had nearly given her away.
Present
Back in his room, John picked up his book again. Then, remembering his previous struggle, he rushed to the window and shouted:
"MOM! I HAVE A PROBLEM!"
"I DON'T CARE! JUST FOCUS!" Alina yelled back.
John smiled. She was back to her usual self.
He sat on the floor, opening the book Kong Qiu once more. This time, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let his imagination guide him. He envisioned the ancient streets of Luoyang, the philosophical debates, the weight of the scrolls in his hands. He wasn't just reading—he was experiencing it.
As he delved deeper, something changed. Blurry images formed in his mind. He grew excited, trying to make them clearer—but the more he tried, the blurrier they became, accompanied by a sharp pain.
Eager, he ran to Alina. "Mom! I just finished Kong Qiu! It was amazing! And at the end, I started seeing weird images, but I couldn't tell who or what they were."
She looked at him thoughtfully. "You're improving faster than I expected. I think I know what's happening and how you can make those images clearer. But if you follow through, it might make the challenge impossible for you to complete. It's your choice."
"I'll find a way to balance both," John said firmly. "Tell me—I'm listening."
Alina's thoughts raced. He's already read two books using only his imagination, and now he speaks freely, using richer vocabulary. Incredible.
"Those images are a product of your imagination," she explained. "They're characters you feel attached to. If I'm right, you need to reread both books and focus on the characters—how they walk, talk, move. If done correctly, you'll see the images clearly, and with training, you might even give them awareness."
She smirked. "But I'm going to make things harder. Less time, fewer books. Each time I give you a new book, I'll take the old one and test you. Answer correctly, and you earn extra time. Get it wrong, and you lose time to learn new skills."
John's mind reeled. "That's unfair, Mom! Do you even want me to succeed?"
She shrugged. "It's up to you. We start now."
Next Chapter: Chapter 3 – New Start (Rerolling)