At dawn the next day, Ryan floated into the laboratory.
Suspended in mid-air, he stared at the dense array of instruments and equipment before him, feeling overwhelmed.
These devices looked nothing like the scientific instruments he knew.
Some resembled twisted metal vines, others crystal-encrusted skulls, and some were just swirling masses of energy constantly changing form.
He couldn’t even tell which part was the power switch, let alone how to operate them.
“What even is all this…”
Ryan muttered, feeling like a dwarf who’d wandered into a land of giants—everything required looking up, and nothing made sense.
He decided to play to his strengths.
If he couldn’t understand them by looking, he’d “see through” them instead.
He focused, and invisible electromagnetic fields spread outward from him, gently washing over every device.
The electromagnetic waves bounced back from those bizarre machines, and in his mind, a three-dimensional model of the laboratory—built entirely from electromagnetic information—rapidly took shape.
The model’s resolution far exceeded what his eyes could see.
He could observe energy flowing through the crystal skulls’ eye sockets.
He could sense the complex conduit structures and energy circuits inside the metal vines.
He could even “touch” the stable singularity at the core of that energy vortex.
While he still didn’t understand the specific purposes or working principles of these devices, he at least had an intuitive grasp of their physical structures and energy flows.
“Well, at least I know this thing isn’t just decoration now.”
Ryan stared at the mental model of the metal vine labeled “suspected high-energy particle containment device” and comforted himself.
He began trying to deduce the possible functions of these structures.
That perpetually rotating energy vortex, for instance, felt like a super-efficient energy core in his perception—constantly absorbing and converting surrounding imaginary energy.
“If I could chip off a tiny piece of this to use as a battery, would my phone finally achieve perpetual power?”
An impractical thought surfaced, and he laughed at himself.
Steal energy from Herta’s lab?
He’d probably get tossed to the Antimatter Legion within seconds.
The research was tedious and mentally taxing.
He needed to constantly adjust the electromagnetic field’s strength and frequency to ensure scan accuracy while simultaneously performing extensive spatial reasoning in his head, trying to match these abstract structures to real-world functions.
After studying just two major pieces of equipment, he felt mentally drained—like he’d just completed several advanced math exams.
“Sigh. If only some Aeon would pass by and casually grant me a bit of Erudition power.”
Ryan rubbed his temples, indulging in fantasy.
“Doesn’t need to be much—just enough to understand this pile of stuff.”
Aeons weren’t something a small fry like him would ever encounter.
And if he did, it’d probably end with being destroyed or being entertained—neither outcome particularly appealing.
By mealtime, his stomach was growling.
He floated out of the lab, instinctively planning to scavenge some bread, but then reconsidered.
After witnessing yesterday’s kitchen chaos, he knew there had to be plenty of ingredients.
Cooking for himself beat gnawing on dry bread.
He floated into the kitchen.
It had been restored to pristine condition—no sign of yesterday’s fierce battle.
Several miniature Herta dolls were wiping down counters.
They merely glanced up when he entered before returning to their work.
Ryan opened the preservation unit.
It was indeed stuffed with ingredients he didn’t recognize but which looked decidedly high-end.
He selected two items that resembled meat and two that resembled vegetables.
Start a fire?
Not necessary.
Ryan directly manipulated electromagnetic fields to create a uniform alternating magnetic field at the bottom of a pan.
The pan heated instantly.
He tossed in the two “meat” pieces—sizzle—aroma filled the air.
He repeated the process for the two “vegetables.” Though he’d only found something resembling salt and pepper for seasoning, it smelled surprisingly good.
He carried his homemade meal—barely passing in presentation—to a corner and sat down.
While eating, he replayed the equipment structures he’d scanned earlier in his mind, searching for patterns.
“The energy circuit routing here… seems related to Maxwell’s equations? But not quite—it’s introduced imaginary terms?”
He chewed on the “meat” that tasted vaguely like chicken with a hint of mint, brow furrowed.
Applying Earth’s knowledge system to this world’s black technology felt like using elementary school math to solve the Riemann hypothesis—pitfalls everywhere.
After eating, he tossed his plate into the auto-cleaner and floated back to the laboratory.
Looking at those still-dazzling devices, he sighed.
“The road ahead is long and winding…”
He resignedly deployed his electromagnetic field again, targeting the next device—something that looked like an incredibly complex centrifuge.
“Keep chewing away. Maybe it’ll click eventually?”
At least now he could “see” clearly just how hard the bone he was gnawing on really was.
That counted as progress, right? Find the original chapter at g.com.
He found humor in the struggle.
Evening came.
Herta arrived.
She found him floating in the center of the laboratory with his eyes closed, seemingly meditating.
“What are you doing?”
Ryan opened his eyes.
“Mentally reviewing the laboratory layout.”
He answered honestly.
“Building a model after scanning with electromagnetic perception.”
Herta raised an eyebrow.
“All the equipment?”
“All of it.”
“Any discoveries?”
“Discovered that I’m truly illiterate.”
Ryan said it with complete sincerity.
Honest—the most honest thing he’d ever said.
These things genuinely weren’t meant for human eyes.
Even disassembled, they made no sense.
“I can’t understand any of these exquisite designs.”
Herta seemed to smile slightly.
“At least you have self-awareness.”
She walked to the control console and began working.
“Continue your research. Report when there’s progress.”
Ryan nodded and continued floating there, pulling up the structural diagram of the octopus-like device in his mind.
He started counting its internal circuits.
He fell asleep halfway through counting.
Floating in mid-air, like a hanging weather doll.
No swinging allowed indoors!
The laboratory was left with only the soft hum of instruments and one researcher’s steady breathing.
Today’s research summary: Recognized my own illiteracy.