Chapter Sixteen: The Creation of Magic

He didn’t linger for long before bidding farewell to Ben Parker and heading home.

Gazing at the pitch-black house, Zhong Shenxiu felt along the wall, fumbling for the chandelier switch like a blind man. After much effort, his hand finally found the old-fashioned breaker. He flicked it with a snap—nothing happened.

He tried the lights in other rooms, then tested various appliances. As expected, the conclusion was clear: the power was out.

It made sense, really. He hadn’t paid the electricity bill in three months. If they didn’t cut his power, whose would they cut?

He checked the kitchen sink—though the flow was slow, thankfully, there was still water. That was good news.

After lingering in the darkness for a while, his eyes soon adapted; the outlines of the room emerged, shrouded in deep gray.

Finding his bedroom, he tidied up a bit and lay down on the bed. A damp, rotten stench assaulted his nose. For a moment, Zhong Shenxiu felt as if he were lying not in bed, but in a pigsty.

Forget it, he sighed.

Shaking his head, he got up and found a chair with a backrest, slumping into it and letting his mind wander.

Ever since he’d completed the main quest in his original world, the system hadn’t issued any new mainline tasks. Now, only the fate/zero world’s main quest remained, along with a side quest requiring the use of a thousand seconds of healing magic.

Oh, and today a new one had appeared: help Peter resolve his school bullying problem on his own.

This new side quest wasn’t difficult. As long as Peter made the effort to improve his frail body, Zhong Shenxiu could teach him a couple of effective moves from his own combat skills—that should be enough.

In other words, he was on the verge of having nothing to do.

Other systems were like heartless, exploitative bosses, squeezing every ounce of work out of their “employees” and turning transmigrators into soulless task machines.

His own system, by contrast, was almost Zen-like—a true slacker’s system. He couldn’t help but think it lived up to its reputation.

When it came to quests, Zhong Shenxiu’s attitude was different from most. He actually viewed them as positive. Some were grueling, but the rewards for completion were always substantial.

In truth, it was these quest rewards that had accelerated his growth more than anything else.

Despite his mutated healing magic, he’d never drawn any particularly outstanding abilities. The only one worthy of being called a divine skill was the Skrull Shapeshifting, which required someone else’s blood.

The other overpowered skills—like Mastery of Medicine, Mastery of Magic—were all quest rewards.

Thinking of his magical mastery, Zhong Shenxiu suddenly realized that, now that he was out of prison and beyond surveillance, it was time to turn the magic he’d simulated in his mind into reality.

He sat up abruptly, all traces of sloth dispelled in an instant.

It was time to create magic.

The foundational spells in his mind involved only the basic transformation of magical energy—no elemental changes or attributes.

The advantage? They conserved magical energy.

Summoning meteor showers or dimensional slashes, like in some fantasy epics, or unleashing “Shinra Tensei” like the Six Paths of Pain in Naruto—those spells would guzzle magical energy by the hundreds of millions. Such large-scale destructive spells were impractical for him at this stage.

Thus, basic spells that conserved magic yet had unique utility were essential.

The first idea that came to Zhong Shenxiu’s mind was inspired by Naruto’s Rasengan.

Let magical energy spin!

If the energy spun fast enough, its destructive and penetrating power would naturally increase.

Without hesitation, he raised his right fist and began channeling magic to spin around it—faster and faster, until he could hear the air whistling around his knuckles.

It had succeeded—but how powerful was it?

He glanced at the mottled wall beside him, a smile tugging at his lips. With a sudden burst of movement, he drove his fist forward.

With a sharp whoosh, the hard wall crumbled into powder, his fist punching clean through and into the living room beyond.

Damn.

That penetrating force stunned him. Retracting his fist, he realized it felt less like Rasengan and more like Chidori.

[Detected use of self-created magic. Data recorded.]

[Please name your new spell.]

The system’s prompt chimed in.

“Let’s call it Chidori Sphere,” he replied inwardly.

[Confirmed. Chidori Sphere has been named.]

Opening his personal panel, he saw a new category had appeared under Active Abilities: Magic.

Following that was:

Chidori Sphere: High-speed rotation of magical energy delivers tremendous destructive force. The more energy consumed, the greater the power (magic consumption: 1–infinity).

A growth skill.

He glanced at his magic points. The destructive force just now had cost about ten points, which translated to a bit over an hour of recharging.

An hour for a move like that—acceptable.

The success of Chidori Sphere filled Zhong Shenxiu with the giddiness of a child who’d found a new toy. Countless ideas flooded his mind.

He settled on another: Vibrating magic.

In his previous life, he’d seen anime moves that enhanced sharpness through high-speed vibration. Now, he wanted to try it himself.

But that wouldn’t work well with bare hands—he needed a proper medium.

So he dashed to the kitchen for a cleaver.

Focusing his mind, he imbued the slightly rusty blade with vibrating magic. It immediately began to hum, and with a casual slice, he split the well-worn wooden cutting board as easily as if it were tofu.

Success!

He named this spell “Pig-Slaughtering Blade.”

Pig-Slaughtering Blade: Consumes 5 magic points. High-speed vibration of magical energy greatly enhances the sharpness of bladed tools. Duration: fifteen minutes.

Magic truly was incredible. No matter how much he simulated it in his mind, nothing compared to the thrill of using it in reality.

Comparing these two simple spells, Zhong Shenxiu gained a clear sense of just how terrifying those doomsday-level forbidden spells in his mind could be.

With enough magical energy, his mastery of magic alone would let him stand at the very pinnacle of the Marvel universe.

At that moment, another idea struck him.

If magic was used only for combat, that would be a terrible waste. Its functional potential was far greater.

For example, by adjusting the vibration frequency of his magic—slowing it down and expanding its range—he could send out wave after wave of magical pulses from his own body, like sonar.

By sensing the feedback from these magical waves, any obstacle would cause a noticeable change. Interpreting these changes would effectively turn him into a small, primitive radar.

And this was a radar that technological means would be powerless to counter.