Chapter Seventeen: The Surge of Magic

Using magical energy as a wave, Zhong Shenxiu briefly simulated the process in his mind before beginning to practice. In reality, inducing such large-scale changes in magical energy proved far more difficult than merely causing local variations, demanding a much stricter mastery of control. While the details might not require meticulous precision, the sheer scope made the calculations soar.

Fortunately, a magical wave was only one of the fundamental forms of magical energy—vibration. So, to put it plainly, Zhong Shenxiu, who had only truly begun practicing magic today, managed after a short period of experimentation—releasing a few misshapen waves—to produce the magical wave he desired.

He sensed the rings of magic rippling outward from himself like tides, row after row. A smile curled at his lips as he increased the output. He decided to try ten points of magical energy.

With the addition of ten points, the magical waves widened and expanded, easily passing through walls and spreading outward in all directions. Zhong Shenxiu quickly closed his eyes to focus on perceiving the changes in these waves. They moved unhindered, unchanged—clearly, nothing had been encountered.

A long, slender reflection below, and a square box above... Ah, that must be the mailbox at the entrance. A rectangular reflection in width and height... that's the trash can. Two or three meters long, four semi-circular bases beneath... the sedan parked by the door.

But most intriguing of all was something that seemed to absorb the magical waves. A sphere at the top, a thick, flattened cylinder beneath with two long cylindrical shapes, and sometimes a smaller cylinder. On either side of the thick cylinder, two finer, longer cylinders. Good heavens—these were people!

Thankfully, the absorption was minimal, barely more than the ambient magical energy in the air, impossible for those unable to sense magic to detect. He checked other living creatures as well, and ultimately concluded: inanimate objects reflected magical waves—like trash cans and cars. Living beings absorbed a scant amount, much like breathing in the air, so little as to be negligible.

This unexpected property was quite practical. It would effectively prevent Zhong Shenxiu from mistaking a mannequin for a real person when using magical waves in the future.

[Ding, new magic has been quantified. Please name it.]

“I’ll call it Magic Wave,” he replied.

A dozen quirky names flashed through Zhong Shenxiu’s mind, like “Universal Invincible Detector of the Living Dead,” or “Abstract Art Supreme Human Outline Technique,” and so on... In the end, he chose the simplest. After all, simplicity is truth.

Magic Wave: Emits several waves of magical energy in circular patterns to detect surrounding objects. Magic consumption: a radius of one kilometer requires ten points of magical energy. For each doubling of radius, the required magical energy increases fivefold.

For example, a two-kilometer radius detection would require fifty points of magic. Four kilometers would consume two hundred and fifty points. Zhong Shenxiu found the consumption quite reasonable—the area increases exponentially with the radius, since S = πr², and as π is constant, the relationship is exponential. Plus, the farther the waves travel, the greater the loss ratio.

Thus, the consumption matched his initial calculations almost perfectly. After finishing this simple math, Zhong Shenxiu returned to reality and used Magic Wave once more, counting the number of humans in his mind.

One, two, three...

Excluding the apartment building next door where the Ben Parker family lived, there were, scattered around his small yard, seventeen men and four women monitoring him.

Quite the operation, he mused inwardly.

Undoubtedly, many were agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. But it was understandable—after all, it was only his first day out of prison. More surveillance was standard procedure; as long as he behaved for a few days, the numbers would surely dwindle.

Then, with Skrull Shapeshifting and Rogue Mastery, concealing his movements would become effortless—one of the advantages of freedom compared to prison life.

Zhong Shenxiu tinkered a bit longer. Using the solidifying property of magical energy, he created a transparent magical defensive shield.

Magic Shield: Forms a defensive barrier through the solidification of magical energy. The greater the magic injected, the larger the area and the stronger the defense (1~∞).

This was another growth-type spell; its strength depended on the magic invested. The rest of his experiments failed—either the consumption was excessive or the cost was too high for his current reserves.

Ultimately, he left himself with thirty points of magical energy.

No longer interested in tinkering, he chose to return to bed. Pigsty or not, at least it was a den. He needed sleep to restore his mental energy; sufficient rest was now essential.

——

The next morning.

Dust motes floated like stars, drifting in the gentle sunlight that slipped through the cracks of the battered curtains.

Zhong Shenxiu opened his eyes. After a night, the rotten stench of the bed, reminiscent of yesterday’s leftovers, seemed to have faded—but he suspected he had simply become accustomed to it.

He glanced at his personal panel: Mental Energy 9/18.

Discounting the point left after healing Nick Fury and Coulson, it meant he had slept for eight hours.

He marveled inwardly—prison life had honed him to sleep eight hours even on such a bed.

Rising, he washed up and randomly picked a few clothes from the wardrobe, dusted them off, and dressed. Now that he was out, the trivialities of life were unavoidable.

His immediate tasks: pay the electricity bill, buy new bedding, and grab some food.

Everything else could wait. With daily increases in magical power, his strength would naturally grow. No urgent tasks meant he could indulge himself for a day and improve his quality of life.

As a transmigrant, sleeping in a pigsty every night was disgraceful—if not beds of jade, at least something decent.

He rummaged through the bedside table; fortunately, his predecessor, being of mixed Chinese-American descent, had inherited the ancestral habit of stockpiling. Sure enough, he found a bundle of twenty-dollar bills—about a thousand dollars in all.

He took a hundred, hesitated, then grabbed another hundred for good measure.

With the money in his pocket, he headed for First Avenue in Queens—one of the borough’s most bustling districts, teeming with shops and administrative offices.

In America, many streets lack proper names, designated instead as First Street, Second Street, and so forth. For example, his own Ingram Street was what locals called it; officially, it was Seventh Street in Queens.

He walked for about ten minutes. On an open stretch of road, he showed no outward sign, but secretly used Magic Wave.

As the ripples faded, he counted the number of people tailing him—twelve men, all uniform in gender.

Magic Wave was fast becoming a divine skill; no matter how well these little mice hid, he could easily ferret them out.

After another half hour, he stepped out of a taxi and arrived at First Avenue, outside a deli named Delmar’s.

Yesterday, Ben Parker had mentioned this place offered the best sandwiches in Queens.

Zhong Shenxiu thought he’d try them.

“Hey! Shenxiu!!?”

A surprised female voice rang out in front of him.

He paused, looking up.

It was... Dr. Kinsha from the prison!

Beside her, she held the hand of a little blonde girl.