What’s even more terrifying than burning up a person every second is what’s inside that box. According to Crow, it contains nearly a thousand people’s worth of source matter...

What the hell is that thing?

“Don’t think about all that nonsense. Let’s begin, Henry Parker.”

Crow gave Henry Parker one last look. The lead in the cauldron was already boiling furiously, yet there was no stench or any other odor. Instead, under the torment of the pure white flames, a faint golden hue began to emerge.

It was like gold dust rippling through pale gray.

Henry Parker didn’t have time to think further. He grabbed the items arranged in order at his side and tossed them into the crucible one by one. First tin, then copper, and finally silver...

With each addition, the metallic solution in the crucible showed not a single ripple, instantly melting the foreign objects completely.

The pure white flames suddenly surged, countless streams of light greedily drawn into the crucible. The intense brightness stung Henry Parker’s eyes.

In the final instant, Henry Parker heard Crow sigh.

“Let’s hope we really bet right this time, Henry Parker.”

Murmuring softly, her now thin, phantom-like form suddenly spread its wings, took flight, and plunged into the crucible.

Boom!

With a deep, muffled sound, the flames went out. The liquid in the crucible rose up, sketching out intricate shapes in the air, and finally, layer by layer, collapsed inward.

As Henry Parker stared in astonishment, it gradually solidified, slowly drifting down from the air.

It was a feather.

A metallic feather.

Every barb on the feather, as if cast from pure silver, was slender and flawless. Light flowed across its mirror-like surface, as if reflecting the entire world, with all sorts of strange images flashing by.

The feather landed in Henry Parker’s hand.

“This is now my true form—a special stigmata without a lineage: Event Branch.”

Crow’s voice sounded by his ear, full of exhaustion: “With that notebook and the Event Branch in hand, even before the chaos, you’d be qualified to serve as a reserve secretary.”

Henry Parker stared in shock at the heavy notebook in his hand, its pages turning on their own without wind. He felt dizzy, as if the countless flowing words were a mirror showing another version of himself.

Another self that existed only in written records.

“What... exactly is this thing?”

“Mm, if I had to say... it’s probably the last remnant of Heaven on earth.” Crow sighed softly. “You can call it the Book of Fate.”

In that instant, the countless flowing words suddenly gathered together. As the Crow on the title page vanished without a trace, lines of new text appeared.

Henry Parker (Stress Period)

Title: None

Stigmata: None

Miracle Imprint: None

Skills: General Knowledge LV3, Art: Cello Performance LV6, Death Premonition LV0.

...

“See? Now, you are the recognized master.” Crow said tiredly. “As for how to use it, you’ll have to figure that out yourself. I’m going to sleep for a bit...”

“Wait, what’s ‘Death Premonition’? Why is it so vague?”

Henry Parker pressed his face to the title page, finally making out the line of text so faint it was almost invisible.

“It’s just a premonition of death. No matter what it is, after experiencing death dozens of times, you’d gain some insights, right? The fact that it’s vague and dim means you’ve just started, but it’s not really a skill yet. I just didn’t expect you to have LV6 in cello performance. Maybe you really are a genius...”

The voice gradually faded, until finally, it could no longer be heard.

It might really have fallen asleep.

Only the dumbfounded Henry Parker was left holding the pen and notebook, not knowing what to do with them.

Holding the feather pen called ‘Event Branch’, the corresponding operations and uses naturally surfaced in his mind. Besides being able to operate on certain text-based objects, its greatest function was to write in the air, freely changing colors...

“Well, at least I won’t have to pay for printing flyers anymore...”

Henry Parker smiled wryly at the pen, then looked at the book in his hand. After flipping through it carefully, he found that nothing seemed to have changed, except that a few files at the very end now faintly glowed.

Henry Parker hesitated for a long time, then raised the pen and tapped them.

In an instant, the pages shone with brilliant light.

The light swallowed him whole.

Chapter 7: Do You Long for a Soul?

The scorching sun blazed down, sweat pouring.

When Henry Parker came to his senses, he was standing on the sports field. Behind him came constant shouts and grunts; it seemed he was doing some kind of group calisthenics with the guy across from him.

Before he could react, a kick landed from behind. A burly man in a tank top pointed at him and cursed, “Brian Brooks, you idiot! Didn’t you eat?”

With that, he shoved Henry Parker’s opponent aside and took a stance. “Come on, let’s spar.”

Henry Parker looked over his shoulder and saw the slogan on the wall behind him.

Sweat more in peacetime, bleed less in war.