Chapter 166: Hunger
Saul hadn’t seen himself in a very, very long time.
So much so that he stared blankly for a few seconds before realizing that the person lying there was his past self.
A nearly thirty-year-old, scruffy, dark-eyed corporate slave.
To this day, he still didn’t know why he had transmigrated.
Had he died from overwork late at night, or had he collapsed from alcohol poisoning?
His memories before arriving in this world felt as if they had been plundered—everything was hazy, like a dream.
"So, what I fear is my past life’s death? Is there something particularly terrifying in the memories I’ve forgotten?"
Inside the library, the white mist thickened, blurring his vision.
"Time is limited, and the mystery of transmigration is clearly beyond my reach right now." Saul reached out toward the body in front of him. "Blindly seeking the unknown only leads to being consumed by it. Better to go with the flow."
The moment his hand touched the corpse, his vision blurred, and the body vanished. The bookshelves around him returned to their usual form—towering stacks of heavy tomes.
These books were different from those in other sections of the library. Each was at least ten centimeters thick, bound with delicate silver chains.
Attached to the chains were small tags with the books' titles written on them.
The mist around him grew denser, reducing visibility further.
Lingering too long in the library’s depths carried the risk of getting lost—one of the safeguards mentors had set up to prevent apprentices from accessing too much knowledge at once.
Saul crouched down, quickly scanning the tags one by one.
Just before the shelves were entirely consumed by the fog, he managed to select two books.
Grabbing them, he hurriedly found his way back to the aisle between the shelves.
After confirming the direction he had come from, he clutched the books tightly and bolted.
The mist thickened, slowing his movements.
His pace gradually decreased until, finally, just as he was about to be fully engulfed, he took a final step and broke free from the mist’s domain.
The entrance to the library reappeared before him—along with the elderly librarian.
Saul held his books tightly and glanced back.
The shelves behind him remained shrouded in mist, silent and serene, waiting for the next reader.
It was as if everything he had just experienced had been an illusion.
But despite nearly being trapped in the white fog, his diary hadn’t issued a death warning.
Does that mean the fog isn’t actually dangerous? Or is it because I’ve already advanced to a Level 2 Apprentice?
The elderly librarian, who had been suppressing his excitement, spoke up when he saw Saul hesitating.
"Are you borrowing these two books?"
Saul turned back and found that the librarian had gotten so close that their faces were nearly touching.
He quickly took a step to the side. "Yes."
"Let me see." The old man extended his hands, actually reaching for Saul’s books.
This was unusual—he had never touched a student’s books before, only their money.
Caught off guard, Saul couldn’t evade in time, and the books were snatched from his hands.
Yet, after a mere glance, the librarian swiftly returned them.
It happened so fast that it was almost as if nothing had occurred.
"I wouldn’t recommend borrowing these for more than three days."
He even offered advice—something he had never done before.
"Did this grumpy old man take medicine today?" Saul thought in shock, quickly expressing his thanks.
Before leaving, Saul couldn’t help but glance back at the librarian.
The elderly man stood with his hands behind his back, smiling as he nodded at Saul.
Once Saul had left, the librarian lifted his hands and examined them.
His fingertips were all shortened, as if something had devoured them.
Yet he smiled in excitement.
"You were right—it does taste like freedom."
---
Saul didn’t return to his dormitory or the second storage room.
He needed a safe place to read these two books.
For instance—Mentor Kaz’s laboratory.
Every mentor’s lab had an apprentice stationed there, responsible for organizing the space and keeping watch.
If anything abnormal occurred, the stationed apprentice would use a special communication device to notify the mentor immediately.
Mentors usually responded very quickly.
Saul hadn’t visited Mentor Kaz’s lab in quite some time.
When he pushed open the door, he immediately saw a familiar figure.
Angela was sitting at a desk, scribbling notes.
But her expression was unfocused—she seemed absent-minded and fatigued.
Saul had heard from Mark that since entering the Wizard Tower, Angela had never worked anywhere but the lab.
No matter which apprentice was assigned to maintain the lab, she always managed to secure an assistant position.
Over time, Kaz’s students all became familiar with her.
To put it in words Saul knew: "Apprentices come and go, but Angela remains."
She never considered switching jobs, instead staying contentedly in the lab.
Saul walked in and sat directly across from her.
The sound of the chair scraping the floor startled Angela from her daze.
She instinctively stood up, reflexively glancing toward the door.
Seeing no one there, she belatedly noticed Saul sitting in front of her.
"Saul, you haven’t been here in a while."
She tried to smile, but it only made her dark circles more prominent.
"Mm."
Saul recalled her possible split personality episode from the night before and, for once, took the initiative to check on her.
"You look pale. Are you sick?"
"No! Absolutely not!" Angela snapped, but then quickly realized she had spoken too harshly. She awkwardly forced a smile.
"I just haven’t been resting well lately."
She clearly didn’t want to elaborate, and Saul had no intention of prying.
He set both books on the table, glanced at their titles, then carefully began untying the silver chains on one of them.
Angela watched him, hesitating to speak.
After several moments of internal struggle, she finally opened her mouth—
But her right hand suddenly moved on its own, pressing her index finger against her lips.
Shhh…
Angela blinked, and tears immediately welled up in her eyes.
She lowered her head, letting two teardrops stain her robe.
Quickly, she raised the book to shield her face, discreetly wiping her tears.
Saul didn’t notice her distress—he was completely absorbed in the book.
The first book was a collection of horror stories, chronicling nightmarish incidents from the wizarding world.
Saul skimmed through, not for entertainment but to search for a specific term—Nightmare Butterfly.
To his surprise, he found it in the fifth story.
The plot was simple:
A powerful official wizard discovered that his son had learned one of his darkest secrets and intended to kill him to inherit his legacy.
The wizard understood why.
Having advanced early in life, he remained youthful, while his son, lacking talent, was withering with age.
Out of pity, the wizard spared his son after he failed the first assassination attempt.
But his son did not repent.
During an apology, he launched another ambush.
This time, the wizard struck first and killed him.
Yet in that moment, he suddenly realized he was the son all along.
Somehow, he had gained the wizard’s memories and lost his own identity.
As he died, he saw a beautiful silver butterfly emerge from his eyes.
The wizard captured it and identified it as the exceedingly rare Nightmare Butterfly.
But soon after, he also died.
Before his death, he gouged out his eyes, burst his eardrums, and cut off his nose.
Finally, he threw himself into a lava pit, burning alive.
His last words?
"It’s all fake. It’s all fake!"
Saul snapped the book shut.
"So, the Nightmare Butterfly can influence consciousness… or even replicate someone’s mind. If the host lacks strong willpower, they will lose themselves…"
Suddenly—
A burning hunger gnawed at his stomach, shattering his thoughts.
Food…
Saul looked up.
Directly across from him, Angela’s red-rimmed eyes were downcast, fixed on her book.
Saul swallowed.
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