A full week had passed since I awoke.
Seven days of absolute isolation, broken only by the strictest biological necessities. I completely ignored the mocking knocks of the servants and their loud, theatrical whispers outside my door about how "the Trash Professor had finally lost his mind, locking himself away with useless paper."
My room had been repurposed into a data laboratory. Sheets of complex equations plastered the walls. The ancient grimoires that the original Adrian had used as literal coasters for his wine glasses were now spread open like cadavers on an autopsy table. Thanks to [Analytical Vision], I wasn't just reading words. I was reverse-engineering the hidden algorithms buried beneath the archaic text.
"Magic in this world isn't a mystical talent. It's just exceptionally shoddy engineering," I muttered, analyzing the structural diagram of a 'First Circle.'
I had made a fundamental discovery: magic circles were nothing more than mathematical equations drawn with mana. Every rune was simply a coefficient, dictating the flow, pressure, and trajectory of energy.
I applied 'Geometric Meditation' to overhaul my vessel's efficiency. I didn't stop at the initial 5%. I weaponized the ambient mana, compressing it into a microscopic drill. Systematically, I began to excavate the scorched pathways, violently purging the toxic sludge left behind by the Black Market elixir. The pain was excruciating, but it was purely logical. Expected. And by the dawn of the sixth night, the structural mutation I had hypothesized finally triggered.
[Ding! Mana Pathways expanded by an additional 10%. (Total Unlocked: 15%)]
[Warning: Extreme mana condensation detected in the cardiac region... Core formation initiating.]
I funneled my entire consciousness into the epicenter. Instead of blindly hoping to 'manifest' a circle through sheer luck like ordinary mages, I consciously drafted a geometric matrix of mana. I set it to orbit my heart at a constant angular velocity.
Suddenly, a resonant, thunderous pulse echoed within my chest, violently blowing away the lingering stagnation that had crippled this body.
[Ding! First Magic Circle successfully constructed.]
The updated status window flared to life, glowing with a pure, pristine blue that reflected the newfound stability of my core:
[Current Data Interface]
Name: Adrian Faulkner
Title: The Trash Professor
Level/Rank: 1st Circle Mage
Mana: 50 / 50
Skills: [Analytical Vision]
"Fifty units of mana in a mere First Circle?" A cold, predatory smile crept onto my face. "By completely eliminating energy leakage and correcting pathway deviations, my output easily rivals a standard Second Circle mage."
I raised my index finger. With chilling focus, I traced a miniature circle in the empty air. A concentrated, azure flame burst into existence at my fingertip. I didn't need to chant ridiculous incantations; I merely solved the thermodynamic equation in my head. The flame was compact, highly compressed, but its core temperature was easily capable of melting solid iron in seconds.
As the dawn of the seventh day broke, I stood before the mirror.
I slipped into a long, high-collared black trench coat, meticulously adjusting the dark leather gloves on my hands. The pathetic, deathly pallor was gone from my face. In its place was a sharp, calculating severity—the gaze of a man who had returned from the abyss to debug an entirely flawed system.
I grabbed the sleek leather briefcase containing a week's worth of geometric research. Today was the day. The 'Public Lecture' that would dictate my fate. I would either be expelled and subsequently murdered in some filthy alleyway by Volume Two, or I would violently rewrite the very laws of magic at the Royal Academy.
I yanked the heavy oak door open.
A maid, whose hand was raised to knock, violently flinched backward. She began to tremble uncontrollably as her eyes swept over my new, imposing silhouette and the suffocatingly cold aura radiating from me.
"M-Master... The carriage is waiting outside," she stammered, shrinking against the wall. "Everyone at the Academy is talking about... about your expulsion today... and the disciplinary committee that—"
I didn't even glance at her.
I walked past her with absolute, freezing indifference. To me, she simply didn't exist within the parameters of my reality. I offered zero words of acknowledgment, my steady, unhurried footsteps echoing down the grand staircase. I left her frozen in place, suffocating under a dark, oppressive authority she had never once felt from the old Adrian.
It was time to confront the variables.