Extra's Perfect Ending

The mist lingered in the air, if not for his unique condition, no one would have noticed it. The yellow fog hovered close to the ground, drifting peacefully. Reeva reached a curious hand toward the mist, but it passed right through. Interaction with mystic forces typically happens internally. Could I absorb it? It was a dangerous thought, yet the mere idea made him smile as his body started producing its own yellow mist. He couldn't stop it, but he could control it. Closing his eyes, he let the coldness spread through his body, then pushed the clumping yellow fog out. It seeped through his skin and settled on the ground, merging with the surrounding mist. That was dangerous. He couldn't even feel happy about it. Was this some kind of punishment from the author? Next time, he'd have to blow out the author's ears for creating such a flawed power system. But it was only a problem for him because he generated belief so easily and lacked a proper circle within his body. A missing circle? Didn't he have one inside him already? The thought snuck into his mind, and he couldn't resist trying. If it got bad, he could always expel it in time. With that in mind, he absorbed a small amount of yellow mist. However, he noticed something. When his yellow mist exited his body, its color paled in comparison to the original. Not only that, it was significantly less dense, but it didn't vanish as quickly as he'd expected. That's weird As usual, he didn't bother answering questions he had no answers to. He extended his hand toward the ground, letting the coldness latch onto the mist. The chill spread to his fingertips as he barely managed to grab hold of the yellow vapor. If his hand weren't inside the flowing mist, it wouldn't have worked. It flowed through his body, and he quickly directed it toward the yellow circle. The moment it made contact with the circle, the mist seeped inside. His body warmed from the act, and he could feel the yellow circle filling with mystic energy. Does it work like a container? He could sense it within his body, storing mystic energy like a regular circle. But it felt physical, crude. While others could channel their mystic power outward, this one was trapped inside his body. The coldness feels inside of his body there also aw that the mystic force that he absorbs from the outside gets assimilated with the one that is already inside his body. His face lit up. If he could store and control raw mystic force, he was halfway to being a mystic already. The only thing missing was an actual container and a fitting power to go with it. Now that he thought about it—why didn't he have power yet? In the novel, one had to undergo a ritual to gain abilities. First, they learned to control the coldness, then they guided mystic energy through their body. Finally, they obtained an item and bonded it with their circle, creating a mystic foundation. Some might have found alternate methods, but this was the standard path to mystic power. By that logic, he should be able to bind an item and awaken his mystic abilities. But he wasn't ready. Choosing an item to bond with was a serious matter. Half of one's power came from the object they bonded with. Like Theodore and Plutus, both had a belief in the sun god, yet their powers were drastically different. Plutus's power had a variety of effects, while Theodore's was mostly geared toward combat. All because they bonded with different things. Hastily choosing one would doom you forever. Reeva wanted to use the [experiment] app to research what options he might have. But for that, he needed to wait out the day. He couldn't use it tomorrow either, he'd need it for his safety at the auction. He felt like he was forgetting something... Oh right—the tramp I promised to pay. Did he really need to hold up his end of the deal? He didn't have to. The homeless man already got his one stac. Still, doing so would make the tramp's day—and it would make him feel good, too. The meeting place wasn't far from here. He could stop by and see if the tramp survived the encounter with the church. It would be a miracle if he had. However, the more likely outcome is that the tramp has already been caught. "I'm going out, be back at six." Theia looked up at the sound of Reeva's voice. "I'm going out, be back at six," Reeva repeated, rising from his seat. Theia's eyes glinted with curiosity. "I'm going too." "You'll be a burden," Reeva shot back bluntly, not bothering to soften the words. Originally, he'd intended to leave her behind so she could figure out her own future, but even he knew his excuse was flimsy. "Says the guy with no mystic power," Theia teased, a smirk tugging at her lips. Reeva raised an eyebrow. "Where'd you hear that?" "Doesn't matter," Theia pouted. "Just let me come. I could save you if the church gets their hands on you." "And then what? Become my deadweight after you burn through your power?" Reeva mocked, his tone sharp but playful. "Fine! I won't go with you then," Theia huffed, pouting even harder. Reeva couldn't help but laugh—a rare sound that made Theia blink in surprise. "Where'd you learn to talk like that?" she asked, mimicking his earlier question. Reeva's smile softened. "Doesn't matter," he echoed. "You can come." Theia didn't say a word as she followed Reeva out of the room. On the way, he briefed her on his plans and what to do if things went wrong. She already knew about the homeless gunman he had given the weapon to, so all he had to do was explain the rest of his plan. They headed east toward the shoreline, then branched off south, away from the grand road.