Amy and Victor were his childhood companions, and together they got accepted into this university.
A streamlined hover car silently slid past them, the breeze it stirred moving the tips of his hair.
Jeming looked at the tech-filled vehicle, with deep-seated confusion in his gaze.
"It’s too real... And why this environnt?" he thought to himself.
Illusion Technique... or rather, the core of various ntal Control technologies lies in making the fake seem real, often constructing environnts familiar to the subject to reduce the sense of incongruity.
Yet the world before his eyes, although reminiscent of sci-fi works from his previous life.
Its details and atmosphere were not the "familiar" that he had personally experienced.
Why did the Plane construct a world that was not "absolutely familiar" to him?
Is it to reduce the investigation risks that a sense of déjà vu brings, or is there another deeper aning?
As they conversed, the grand university gates appeared before them.
Jeming maintained a mix of excitent and tension as he blended into the campus crowd.
After parting with Amy, and based on his mory, he found the lecture hall where his class would take place.
The familiar tiered layout made him dazed for a mont.
He found a seat towards the middle and back rows, an inconspicuous spot.
In front of him was a smooth desktop embedded with an LCD screen.
Almost as a bodily instinct, the mont he saw the screen, his palm naturally pressed down on the designated area.
Buzz...
A gentle light screen instantly popped open before him, listing functions such as course information, personal account, and campus navigation.
Jeming sharply retracted his hand as if burned, his heart slightly clenched.
Not because of the light screen itself, but because of that action just now—smooth and natural, entirely muscle mory and a conditioned reflex ford over long-term living in this body!
"The situation is worse than imagined..." Jeming forced himself to calm down, casually browsing through the light screen’s information, while his mind sank, "My body, my subconscious, has deeply adapted to life here. I’ve probably ’lived’ here for quite so ti..."
Ti!
Ti is the most crucial factor!
The pressure of a ten-year deadline from the outside world and the unpredictability of internal ti flow wound like two cold snakes around his heart.
Once the deadline is exceeded, those Eighth Level Wizards from the command center wouldn’t care about the specific situation of the fallen ones like him.
Although theoretically, an Eighth Level Wizard would promptly rescue the wizards who fell, the uncertainty is too high.
With unclear intelligence on all fronts, heavens know what might happen the instant they act; he might well "perish together" with this Plane.
"I need to resolve this problem as quickly as possible." Jeming took a deep breath, his gaze turning firm once more.
Jeming no longer focused on the noisy freshn gradually entering the lecture hall, leaning back slightly on the chair, closing his eyes as if resting.
His entire mind and spirit plunged inside his body, towards the desolate Dantian Sea of Qi, towards that faint yet crucial sense of attraction.
Mobilize Spiritual Power!
Like a mortal using all their strength to push a truck stuck in the mud.
Slow, arduous, with progress almost imperceptible.
A mont later, the originally subtle conversation and light sound of light screens in the classroom abruptly ceased.
This sudden quiet made Jeming, imrsed in the painful mobilization of Spiritual Power, snap back to reality.
He raised his head and saw two young n in simple yet well-tailored teacher attire walk into the classroom.
Both had a steady deanor, sharp eyes, appearing young but giving off an aura of rich experience.
Jeming subconsciously scanned the classroom, feeling a slight jump in his heart.
He hadn’t paid much attention earlier, but now he noticed the tiered classroom was empty, including him, there were barely less than ten students!
"This number... is too abnormal." Jeming’s doubts deepened.
According to the "setting" of false mories, the university he was accepted into was a top-tier institution in the field of physics, highly popular, with no reason for any program class to have so few people.
This severely contradicted his understanding of "popular universities" in his mory.
He suppressed his doubts, quickly adjusting his facial expression to appear as if he was seriously listening to the lecture and full of anticipation for the new course.
Jeming knew that his imdiate priority was to maintain the persona of a "regular freshman," avoiding attracting any potential attention.
The earlier attempt made him estimate that if he fully concentrated, it might take two to three days to barely accomplish the mobilization of that trace of Spiritual Power, opening a gap to connect to the internal space.
Before then, he had to integrate like a genuine student.
Even though he didn’t hold expectations for the course content—thinking it was rely false information constructed by the Plane based on his own knowledge—Jeming forced himself to listen.
However, as he listened, his pupils suddenly contracted, a hint of shock flashing uncontrollably across his face.
The lecturer was explaining a specific gravitational lensing effect of a star nebula under a spaceti curvature disturbance model, with key paraters and derived formulas involved, that were... knowledge he had never encountered before!
"This can’t be!" Jeming’s mind was stirred with fierce waves.
He was certain he was not under an Illusion Technique now, but even the more advanced ntal Control abilities would source "materials" for constructing worlds from the subject’s own cognition and mory bank.
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