Do You Crave Power?

That night. After enjoying dinner, Wayne let out the white dove from his hat to feed it. At the same time, he took out the magic primer on the fundamentals of carrier birds and studied it to refresh his memory. He could already recite the book backwards and forwards, yet he still made a point to read through it once every day. "Coo, coo, coo—" On the table, the dove seemed startled by something, cooing in distress as it burrowed back into the hat. Catching something in the corner of his eye, Wayne spotted a mass of shadow perched on the windowsill. A pair of golden eyes, cold and indifferent, stared fixedly at him. The shadow stood about thirty centimeters tall, eerily still and unmoving. Just below those eyes, something curled and writhing like tentacles seemed to hang. Startled, Wayne took a closer look and realized it wasn't some eldritch monstrosity after all. It was an owl, pitch-black from beak to talon, staring right at him with a mouse dangling from its beak. The mouse was still alive, and those writhing tentacles were merely its tail. "Aren't you a unique little specimen? Truly a sight to behold." Wayne muttered a dry quip and waved his hand to shoo the overly curious owl away. To his surprise, the creature possessed remarkable nerve. It flapped its wings, landed straight on the table, and set the mouse down right in front of him. The scruffy gray mouse immediately began playing dead the moment the owl set it down, its tail stiff and motionless. Wayne was bewildered. Then he watched as the black owl nudged the mouse forward with a talon and tilted its head at him, its expression practically declaring: *Tonight's on me. Dig in, all the rat fries you can eat.* Wayne chuckled. A wild owl that showed no fear of strangers and was so hospitable, no less? By comparison, his carrier bird, that snowy owl, was obnoxious to the point of begging for a beating. "Thanks a lot, but I don't eat this stuff. I've already had dinner." Wayne waved both hands, trying to coax the owl to leave on its own. It didn't work. The black owl clearly misunderstood. It clamped a claw down on the mouse's head with a sharp *snap*, turning the mouse from playing dead to truly dead. Having prepped the ingredients, the owl nudged it toward Wayne again with its talon. "It's not about whether it's dead or alive... Ah, forget it, I know you mean well..." Wayne sighed in resignation. He appreciated the thought, but he really didn't eat rodents. He stood up and raised his hands high, trying to scare the owl away. It proved utterly useless. The owl merely cocked its head, not the least bit intimidated. Instead, Wayne was the one who looked like a fool! "You're quite clever, aren't you? You know who's a good person and who won't hurt you. Unfortunately, you're a bit too late. The Wayne household is fully staffed. I can feed you once, but I can't put you on the payroll for three square meals a day. "Shoo, shoo! If you don't scram, I'll turn you into a midnight snack." Wayne reached out to grab the owl, but the creature had no desire to be touched. With one nudging and the other backing away, the black owl hopped onto the windowsill, flapped its wings, and melted into the night sky. "Pretty cute, actually... "Should I switch to a night-shift carrier bird?" After cleaning up the dead mouse from the table, Wayne sat back down to continue reading. A familiar gaze left him speechless. Turning his head, he saw the exact same owl, carrying yet another mouse in its beak. "Where are you finding all these mice?!" Wayne grumbled and spread his arms to block the owl from coming inside. Just as he was about to shut the window, the owl took flight on its own. Wayne stayed put, curious to see what new stunt this owl might pull. Two minutes later, Wayne was stunned. The owl flew back carrying a necklace in its beak and lowered its head to set it on the windowsill. The necklace was styled as a winged star-cross, with each feather rendered in lifelike detail. The hollowed-out star-cross in the center was set with a ruby and numerous small diamonds. Judging by the style, it looked like Renaissance jewelry. *Brother Owl understands me!* Wayne's heart thumped. He picked up the necklace to examine it, his eyes lighting up. It was coated in fresh dirt, as if it had just been dug out of the earth. "You... ah, wait—do you have more of this stuff?" Wayne gestured with his hands, marveling that good deeds really did bring good karma. Heaven watched over all things; justice wasn't delayed, it was just saving up for a massive payout! Whether the owl understood his words or not, it clearly understood how differently Wayne treated the necklace compared to the dead mice. Two minutes later, it flew back with a ring. After that, earrings, bracelets, and bangles were brought over one by one. Wayne was grinning so wide his molars showed. Switch. He was switching tonight! The snowy owl lacked organization and discipline, indulged in lazy habits, possessed zero team spirit or dedication, and failed to maintain proper communication with leadership. It was clearly unfit for its current position. By executive decision, the snowy owl was hereby demoted to mascot, while this Fortune Owl was appointed as the Wayne family's sole nocturnal carrier bird. The black owl had only brought back small items. Wayne deduced that it must have found a large treasure trove—and a semi-exposed one at that, where a few scrapes of its claws could unearth a heap of loot. To prevent unscrupulous antiquities dealers from committing a travesty by selling off priceless jewelry for pennies, Wayne decided to take custody of them himself. He vaulted over the windowsill, hopped nimbly down from the second floor, and followed the black owl toward the treasure site. Along the way, whenever he lost sight of his guide, the black owl would circle back to lead the way. Half an hour later, Wayne stumbled his way into a deep forest and discovered a cave tucked between fissures in the rocks. Flashlight in hand, Wayne shone a beam inside. At first, the passage was exceedingly narrow, barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through; after a few dozen paces, it opened up into a vast expanse. Wayne hesitated slightly, but his supernatural senses gave no warning of danger. After a moment's contemplation, in the noble spirit that preserving precious treasures was everyone's civic duty, he turned sideways and squeezed inside. The black owl walked ahead, flapping into the air once the cavern widened, and perched atop a shadowy ledge. Wayne swept the beam of his flashlight over. There stood a seated stone statue holding a book in its hands. Covered and wrapped in vines from age, its true features were impossible to discern. Wayne's attention was drawn to the book. Stepping forward to examine it, he found obvious traces of a mechanism in the stone hands; to retrieve the book, one had to trigger the mechanism. He had no idea what material the book was made of, but it showed no signs of decay despite the passage of years. Its cover was pristine as new, untouched by even a speck of dust. Wayne noticed a hexagram pattern on the cover. Recalling one of the three iron doors in the gym, he guessed this was a magic book. *Brilliant! My luck is finally turning!* Wayne had read plenty of novels where the protagonist's rise to glory mirrored his exact situation: blundering into a hidden cave, picking up a secret manual, mastering divine martial arts, stepping outside to slap faces and gather beauties, and ultimately becoming invincible and ruling the realm. The genre had shifted from wuxia to Western fantasy, but that hardly mattered. The core remained the same. Eastern and Western tropes were fundamentally the same thing; if anything, Western ones were even more straightforward. Wayne shone his flashlight around in search of a mechanism and found a line of script below the stone chair: "Kneel before me a hundred times, and receive my legacy; revere me as your master, and obey my commands..." Translation was a deep and profound art. Those weren't the exact words, but Wayne's rendering was roughly the gist of it. "I feel like I've seen this routine somewhere before!" Wayne muttered a complaint. According to this fellow's terms, one had to kneel a hundred times, take him as master, and obey his orders just to receive the legacy's grimoire. Kneeling was out of the question. Besides, around here you bowed on one knee to the king and both knees to your faith; kneeling to a teacher wasn't the custom. He chanted aloud, "Master above, please accept your student's bow." With that, he made a perfunctory bow, then began jumping up and down on the spot. He figured the mechanism was in the floor, and jumping a hundred times had the same physical effect as kneeling a hundred times. Sure enough, after a dozen hops, the mechanism clicked into gear. The vines wound around the statue slithered away like vipers. The statue clutching the magic book slowly rose to its feet. Judging by its silhouette, it appeared to be a woman clad in hooded robes. The black owl took flight, letting out an eerie, mournful screech. The statue stepped down from the seat, stiffly extending both hands to present the magic book to Wayne. Its solemn demeanor carried a genuine sense of ceremonial legacy. Wayne paused, musing that since the person was long dead, dropping to one knee might at least show some respect to this bargain master. On second thought, since the person was dead anyway, kneeling or not made no difference. There was no need to fuss over superficial rituals; true respect was kept in the heart. Thick-skinned, he took the magic book. Just as he was happily about to flip it open, the statue spoke in a slow voice: "Now that you have taken my magic book, you are my student. You must obediently follow your teacher's instructions, with no backing out." *Holy crap, you can talk?!* Wayne's eyes went wide. Clutching the magic book, he nodded vigorously: *Take care on your journey, Teacher, this student won't see you off.* *Teacher, why haven't you left yet? Get going already!* Leaving was completely off the table. Granules of sand and stone sloughed off the surface to reveal a slender, enchanting figure beneath. Clad in a hooded robe, the mage had warmth and breath—she was unmistakably alive. The black owl flapped its wings, landed on the mage's shoulder, ducked its head, and disappeared beneath the folds of her robe. The mage pulled down her hood. With short hair and exquisite features, she was none other than Xifei. Wayne: (一`´一) Refusing to believe his eyes, he shone the flashlight directly on her face. No mistake—it really was Xifei Valentine. *You're actually a mage?!* "Wayne, although this apprenticeship ceremony was a bit sloppy and you sorely lacked sincerity, you passed my earlier tests and proved your character. Now that you've accepted this magic book, you are my student from this day forth." Xifei smiled faintly, lowering her voice enticingly. "Well? Having glimpsed the truth of this world, have you begun to crave power?" *Young man, do you crave power?* The trope was stale as ever. Wayne rolled his eyes and waved his hand in front of Xifei's eyes. A wisp of pure mana trickled out, instantly shattering Xifei's posturing momentum. "You're late. Someone has already told me the truth of the world." "You're actually a mage?!" Xifei stood frozen. In all their interactions throughout the day, she hadn't detected a single trace of mana on Wayne. That in itself wasn't surprising; many accomplished mages could conceal their aura and appear just like ordinary mortals. What astonished her was Wayne's mana: though meager, it was exceptionally pure. The pitifully tiny amount indicated that Wayne had only recently come into contact with magic—latent mana, difficult to detect—while its purity proved he was a genius! For an exceptional teacher, parents would beg on their knees for an in; for an exceptional student, schools would fight tooth and nail offering full scholarships. In that case, the strategy for taking him as an apprentice had to change. Xifei found the situation tricky; she might even have to apply pressure to wrest Wayne away from another mage. *Would poaching someone right after arriving in Londan cause bad blood?* With a wave of her hand, Xifei raised an earthen wall that blocked the cave's exit. Green spectral flames flickered in her eyes as she asked in a grave tone, "Wayne, tell me the truth. Who is your teacher? Who led you onto the path of magic?" "I don't have a teacher." "Impossible..." "I really don't have a teacher. An unlucky bastard under a curse planted a magic seed inside me, and after that, I found my own mana." Wayne recounted truthfully, omitting the unlucky bastard's name. Even now, he was still amazed by Xifei's identity as a mage. A fashion designer and a mage—how did she find the time for both? "How long have you wielded mana?" "Just a few days. Sometime this week. If I hadn't left Londan, I'd probably be signing up for night school." "..." *What sort of godforsaken place is night school? How could it be worthy of you!* Xifei was struck speechless. What an absurd mana initiation. Such crude and simplistic methods clearly didn't belong to a powerful mage. Very well. Since that person had left Wayne unattended and wandering around freely, she wouldn't hold back. *Goddess above, this disciple is ripe for recruitment!*