Back in the staff room, Holland searched the bookshelf against the wall behind him. "With only a month left until the competition, just memorizing the textbook excerpts won't be enough."
He pulled three books from the shelf and stacked them on the desk.
"These three are supplementary materials. Take one home to read."
Richard scanned the spines.
The first was a complete annotated collection of Cicero's speeches, thick enough to be used as a brick.
The second was an introduction to rhetoric, detailing the technical systems of classical speech, from breath control to standard gestures.
The third book had a rather long title: From Sanctuary to Pulpit: The Evolution of Religious Ritual Terminology in Classical Rhetoric.
Richard decided on the third book immediately.
The evolution of religious ritual terminology—this subject bridged both religious studies and linguistics.
If the cipher system in Appendix C wasn't an isolated case, a reference book like this was exactly what he would need for future steganographic texts.It would help him trace the etymology of terms back to their original meanings, allowing him to determine whether a word was common Latin or specific sectarian jargon.
"I'll take the third one."
Holland scratched his balding head.
Most students would have picked the first or the second—one for points, the other for technique.
He had pulled the third one at random. It was a purely academic text that offered the least direct help for the competition.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Alright, suit yourself."
The book felt heavy when Richard took it. The paper quality was excellent and the letterpress printing crisp—it had to be an expensive volume.
"Sir, this wasn't cheap, was it?"
"It wasn't. I had to pull some strings with an old classmate to get my hands on it. You won't find it in a regular bookstore."
Holland pushed the other two books back onto the shelf, adding without looking back,
"Consider the book a gift. Take it home and study it hard. Wear out the pages if you have to."
Richard's earlier performance had won the teacher some face in front of his colleagues, so this was a form of reward.
"Thank you, sir."
Richard left the room and walked down the corridor toward the stairs.
[Learning] Lv.1 Experience: 147/200
Between the practice lecture just now and his conversation with Mr. West, his experience had jumped several points.
High-density knowledge output combined with immediate feedback was definitely more efficient than passively listening in class.
He hoisted his schoolbag a little higher, his steps much lighter than when he had first arrived.
...
Early Wednesday morning, the sky wasn't fully bright yet.
In a half-awake daze, Richard felt a sudden heat in his chest, as if someone had pressed a warm copper kettle right between his ribs.
As air filled his lungs, he could faintly hear a resonant sound echoing from deep within his chest cavity.
The Panel flashed.
[Breathing] Lv.2 Experience: 0/500
He took a few deep breaths in bed, trying to gauge the changes.
Air seemed to enter his trachea faster, and the resistance as it flowed through his bronchial forks felt significantly lower.
To sum it up in one sentence: his breathing efficiency had improved.
Every breath drew in more oxygen and expelled more waste gas.
As a result, he felt more mentally alert just lying there in bed.
In the past, he always went through a few minutes of morning grogginess, like waiting for a computer's hard drive to spin up.
Today, that groggy period was practically nonexistent.
He checked the detailed information on the Panel.
Lv.2 hadn't unlocked any new trait descriptions; the experience cap had simply increased from 200 to 500.
The experience required to level up had more than doubled, but his breathing efficiency was higher, and the quality of each breath had improved.
Although the experience bar was longer now, the rate at which he gained experience shouldn't drop too much.
Richard threw off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed to rest for a moment.
He usually suffered from poor sleep quality, waking up once or twice in the middle of the night—sometimes coughing himself awake.
Last night, however, he had slept straight through to dawn.
The [sleep] attribute hadn't been activated yet, but with his breathing optimized, his oxygen supply during sleep had improved, which likely boosted his body's nightly recovery efficiency.
There were indirect synergies between the skills.
He grabbed the notebook from his bedside table and sketched a simple flowchart on a blank page:
Breathing → Oxygen Supply → Sleep Quality → Energy → Learning Efficiency → Learning Experience
[Breathing] affected sleep quality, sleep quality affected daytime energy, and daytime energy affected learning efficiency, which in turn directly affected the accumulation of [Learning] experience.
If the level 3 [Breathing] trait, Healing, could genuinely achieve a "gradual remission of chronic illness," its indirect impact would be massive.
With a body constantly repairing itself, his energy cap would be pushed infinitely higher.
The time and intensity he could dedicate to his studies, training, and work every day would increase, causing the leveling speed of all his skills to rise with the tide.
When he went downstairs, his mother was already in the kitchen.
"You look energetic today," Margaret said, glancing at him.
"Yeah, I slept pretty well last night."
"That's a rarity." His mother looked somewhat surprised. "You used to cough for ages in the middle of the night. It's gotten better over the last two weeks, but you still usually coughed a little."
"Maybe the weather is getting warmer."
It was early autumn in Briston, and temperatures had actually dropped over the past few days.
But his mother didn't pry; she simply brought bread and tea to the table.
His father hadn't come down yet. The sound of rummaging echoed from Evelyn's room; she was probably looking for something.
Richard sat at the dining table and took a sip of his tea.
The numbers on the Panel continued to tick away quietly.
[Breathing] Lv.2 Experience: 1/500
[Learning] Lv.1 Experience: 150/200
Breathing was steadily rising, and Learning only had a quarter of its experience bar left to fill.
Once Learning hit Lv.2, his efficiency at absorbing knowledge would climb to another level.
By then, his preparations for the Cicero Cup, the follow-up readings beyond Appendix C, and the copy of From Sanctuary to Pulpit that Mr. Holland had given him would all enter a much more efficient digestion cycle.
And there was also the Sphinx Oil Lamp.
With Warren taking care of lunch and Grey covering breakfast, those two expenses were completely erased. He could save all the pocket money he would normally spend on food.
But a two-pound gap was simply too large. No matter how much pocket money he saved, it wouldn't be enough. He still had to rely on the Cicero Cup.
Evelyn's footsteps echoed as she hurried down the stairs.
The girl plopped down into her chair, flicked her braids behind her back, and immediately reached for the bread.
She caught a glimpse of Richard from the corner of her eye and looked at him curiously.
"Your complexion looks a lot better again today."
"Does it?"
"Yeah, you've got some color in your cheeks."
She tore a piece of bread in half and deftly slathered it with marmalade.
"Could it be because of..." she murmured, a rather peculiar expression spreading across her face.
Richard immediately cut her off. "Because I slept well last night."
"Oh, slept well, huh."
Evelyn took a massive bite of her marmalade toast, chewed a couple of times, and mumbled an addition:
"That's good. Just make sure you... y'know, rest up."
Richard was left somewhat speechless. He simply took another sip of tea.
The little brat still hadn't let go of their previous misunderstanding.
He decided not to offer any explanations. He had learned the hard way that trying to clarify things only made it worse.
Time would wash away everything, including his sister's overactive imagination.
His mother popped her head out of the kitchen. "What are you two whispering about?"
"Nothing," the siblings replied in unison.
Outside the window, Briston's chimneys were already belching smoke. The low-frequency rumbling of heavy machinery in the distance vibrated faintly through the foundation of the house.
It was a new day.
Richard finished his bread, drained the last of his tea, and carried his dishes to the kitchen.
He left the house alongside Evelyn, who was hurriedly stuffing the last piece of toast into her mouth, and they headed toward the school bus stop.
He had Mr. Hutton's history class today, and he had plenty of questions waiting for the old gentleman to answer.
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