Chapter 36: Uncertain Circumstances

Mei Mumu tried calling out to the system or Lady Balance in his mind, but to no avail.

“What’s going on here?” Mei Mumu’s mind was unusually clear.

Gritting his teeth, he noticed that the floating ring he’d forgotten to remove before sleep was still on his hand.

He extended his left hand toward the air beside him, while his right hand slowly traced a circle clockwise.

Golden sparks appeared in the air before him.

But the white mist, hazy like dawn fog, seemed to react as if provoked; Mei Mumu could see it surge ten centimeters closer in just a second.

A sense of unease crept over him in this world.

As he continued to circle his right hand and silently recite the incantation to open a portal, the white mist grew turbulent, its advance accelerating exponentially.

When Mei Mumu faltered for a moment and his concentration wavered, causing the portal to open more slowly, he was startled to see the mist’s approach slow down too.

It was as if the white fog only rejected his attempt to leave, or perhaps loathed any manifestation of spatial magic.

Suddenly, with a hint of hesitation on his face, he slowly lowered his hands and gave up on opening the portal. Just as he expected, the advancing mist also receded.

He quietly left the apprentice’s quarters, only to see that the flowers in the bed beside the training grounds looked as though wild boars had uprooted them, scattered messily across the ground. Yet all that remained were blackened, withered roots, as if they had died over a century ago.

Crossing the training ground, Mei Mumu was about to push open the canteen’s main door when a faint sound came from the warehouse to his left.

His eyelid twitched slightly, and his eyes narrowed. Instinctively, he lightened his footsteps and slowly made his way toward the warehouse beside the empty canteen, circling cautiously.

Rounding the corner, Mei Mumu saw that the once gray-black square columns now bore one after another of pale, human faces slowly emerging from the twenty-centimeter-wide surface.

A chill ran down his spine.

It was as if living people had been compressed and locked into the narrow face of the column.

Mei Mumu could clearly make out the features on each face—for instance, at the top was a man with short curly hair, a round face, and a rugged, bandit-like beard. At the bottom, there was most likely an old woman, her face wrinkled and shriveled.

None of the faces had eyes carved into them.

Though they were only bas-reliefs, their mouths seemed to be silently opening and closing—were they speaking? Or crying out in pain?

Even more unnervingly, not the slightest sound came forth.

Mei Mumu, instinctively frightened, stepped back half a pace, watching the column’s movements nervously.

But nothing happened; the carvings seemed to be nothing more than meaningless decoration.

Keeping his distance, Mei Mumu narrowed his eyes and, crab-like, edged away in an arc, putting as much space as possible between himself and the eerie column.

Just as he moved away, he saw the bas-relief faces rapidly melt back into the stone. Moments later, on another column closer to him, they reappeared—the same contorted, snarling expressions, the same silence.

Suddenly, Mei Mumu realized who these faces belonged to.

They were the ordinary people he’d passed on the road before entering Kamar-Taj. Because they were just passersby, he hadn’t remembered them clearly.

“Damn it, have I been dragged into some kind of nightmare realm?” Mei Mumu thought, alarmed. He knew for certain that in the original “Doctor Strange,” nothing like this had ever occurred.

From then on, no matter where he moved, these faces clung to him, always appearing within five meters—on pillars, walls, or even ornamental objects like incense burners in Kamar-Taj. There was only one rule: they always appeared dead center in his line of sight, impossible to avoid.

Strangely, Mei Mumu found he wasn’t as frightened as he expected. Had he come to terms with this otherworldly reality? Or did he simply have nerves of steel?

He took a slow breath of the chilly air, observed for a while, then quietly retreated to the side of the training ground.

Nearby, racks of simplified magical implements designed for apprentices were usually left out only during the day and collected at night for storage.

Now, they stood neatly on the racks beside the weapon storeroom.

To make difficult magic more user-friendly, Kamar-Taj would reduce their power and infuse it into these tools. Among them, the “Staff of the Living Tribunal” was the most notable in Mei Mumu’s sight.

Normally, novices were strictly forbidden from using magical implements.

The right to try out such tools was only given by an instructor’s approval. Whether one could master an implement was up to the implement itself.

Mei Mumu guessed that each one must have a minimum requirement—like in a game, where you need a certain level of intelligence or agility to equip certain items.

Right now, Mei Mumu didn’t care about any of that. He entered the weapon storeroom and picked up a Staff of the Living Tribunal.

At first, it felt no different from an ordinary short rod. But when Mei Mumu tried channeling his own magic into it, the staff instantly transformed into a slender nine-section whip. Shining golden light connected each metal segment like a flexible lash.

“Whew!” A nine-section whip could easily injure its user if not wielded properly.

After a moment’s thought, Mei Mumu switched to the “Vatu Magic Sword.”

In its normal form, it was a twenty-centimeter metal rod. With a flick, a blade of wind over sixty centimeters long shot out from one end—an unwavering edge, reminiscent of a lightsaber from Star Wars. But this wind blade was transparent; only with great concentration could one make out its shimmering, semi-visible form.

Feeling the drain on his stamina and magic, Mei Mumu found it manageable.

Not knowing where he was, he dared not draw on the local magical energy—if he absorbed something harmful, it would be all over.

Now armed, Mei Mumu boldly approached the faces on the wall.

This time, as soon as he drew near, the terrifying bas-relief faces seemed startled and vanished into the building’s structure.

“Crack…” Suddenly, another sound came from the warehouse beside the canteen.

Mei Mumu clutched at his chest, hoping to calm his pounding heart.

He began to move toward the source once more.