Wait a minute. It had definitely been at zero just a moment ago. He instinctively held still, letting Warren continue tossing the Cloth Bag, and stared at the number.
It was rising, climbing visibly before his eyes.
0.12... 0.15... 0.19...
Like sand trickling through an hourglass, grain by grain, it spilled out of the Cloth Bag and flowed into his Panel.
The Spirit Board inside the Cloth Bag truly held something sealed within.
It constantly seeped out, silently absorbed into his body and converted into points.
This thing was real, or at least it used to be. There really was something inside it.
Richard made a quick judgment, keeping his expression neutral so no one would notice anything amiss.
He glanced at the eager faces around him.
Warren, Mason, Grey, and Hugh, who had been called over simply because he was sitting nearby.Four clueless faces. Not a single one of them knew what they were doing.
They were just naive kids playing with fire, armed with restless curiosity and ready to poke at a mess they couldn't begin to understand.
After weighing the situation, Richard spoke up. "This thing."
He pointed at the Cloth Bag. "Can I take a look at it first?"
Warren paused, then casually tossed the Cloth Bag over. "You know about this stuff?"
"Just taking a look." Richard caught the Cloth Bag, turning it over in his hands.
He didn't take the disc out. He wasn't sure if it was useful, but it seemed best to avoid direct contact just in case.
0.53... 0.67... The points were still slowly increasing.
On the other side of the room, Warren was already setting things up.
Grey pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket.
"Light the candle, place your hands on the edge of the board, close your eyes, and ask a question. That's all, no extra incantations."
"Let's light the candle first, then." Warren drew the curtains closed. "We need a little ambiance, right?"
He even checked the gaps on both sides, leaving only the thinnest sliver of light.
Mason set out the candle, and Warren struck a match.
The orange flame flared up, surprisingly bright in the dim classroom, casting flickering shadows across their faces.
None of them noticed Richard standing to the side, quietly gripping the Cloth Bag without stepping closer.
0.73... 0.82...
"Williams," Warren called, glancing back. "You joining us?"
"Coming," Richard said. "Just give me a second."
With the candle lit, Warren cleared his throat, preparing to recite the invitation.
0.92... Richard could feel that whatever was inside was almost drained.
Soon enough, the number stopped climbing, settling at exactly 1.
He let out a breath, weighed the Cloth Bag in his hand, and casually set it on a nearby desk.
Warren had just grabbed the Cloth Bag and pulled the Spirit Board out when the candle suddenly went out.
There was no wind. The curtains were drawn tight, no one had moved, and the door hadn't been opened.
It had snuffed out cleanly, as if pinched by an invisible hand.
Hugh shrank back a little.
Mason burst out laughing, leaning back in his chair. "I told you the curtains weren't tight enough! A draft got in!"
"What draft?" Grey lifted the curtain and quickly dropped it, looking confused. "It's completely shut."
"Must be the wick, then. How long has this candle been sitting around?"
Richard slowly pulled his hand back and pressed it against his forehead. It felt icy. He couldn't tell if the chill was coming from his palm or his forehead.
He glanced at the Spirit Board.
Now, it truly was nothing more than a piece of wood.
The characters carved into it were ancient, but whatever was sealed within them had been sucked entirely dry. The board was completely empty.
Warren was still bickering with Mason about the candle as he struck another match and re-lit the wick.
Everyone placed their hands back on the board and waited. It didn't move an inch.
They waited a bit longer. Still nothing.
Warren pulled his hand away, making no attempt to hide his disappointment.
"That old guy..." He gritted his teeth. "He scammed me."
"What's wrong?" Hugh asked cautiously.
"When he sold it to me, he was acting all mysterious, rambling about how it was an authentic relic from the Ancient East. He guaranteed there'd be a reaction..."
Warren shoved the crumpled paper aside. "No reaction at all. It's just a useless piece of wood."
Mason laughed. "You actually took him seriously? The old guy took one look at your clothes and knew you had money. He was definitely just spouting nonsense..."
"I didn't take him seriously," Warren said, looking a little embarrassed. "I bought it as a toy. But it doesn't even work as a cheap trick, and that's just wrong."
Richard shook his head.
If he hadn't been here, and if the thing stored inside the board hadn't been emptied in advance... If these clueless, half-grown kids had actually invited something in... he didn't know what the outcome would have been, but they certainly wouldn't have walked away unscathed.
"Actually," he spoke up. "Even if there had been a reaction, it wouldn't necessarily be for the reasons you think."
Warren looked over. "What do you mean?"
"Have any of you heard of the ideomotor effect?"
"No."
"It basically works like this." Richard sat sideways on the edge of a nearby desk.
"When a person is highly focused on a certain thing and has a strong expectation for the outcome, their muscles begin to make subtle, unconscious movements. The nervous system reacts spontaneously to those expectations, bypassing conscious awareness."
Grey listened closely, her blue eyes full of thought.
"So when several people place their hands on the same board and everyone secretly expects it to move, it moves. There's no external force involved. Everyone's muscles unconsciously exert force in sync, and combined, that's enough to push the board. Since the people involved don't realize they're exerting force, they mistakenly believe it's coming from an outside power."
Warren understood what he meant. "So when those people think a table is moving, they're actually pushing it themselves?"
"Exactly."
"What about the candle, then?" Mason asked. "How do you explain the candle going out on its own?"
"A candle burns oxygen in a sealed space. With five people in here, plus a lit candle, the oxygen levels in the classroom drop. The wick burns unstably in a low-oxygen environment, and when a few random factors stack up, it just goes out."
As he said this, he felt a sudden sense of déjà vu. Was he really giving them a lesson on "Approaching Science"?
Warren set the Spirit Board down and sighed.
"I spent ten pounds on a useless piece of wood."
Ten pounds! Richard calculated silently in his mind.
Ten pounds was enough to buy a thousand hot meat pies, and enough to cover his family's rent for several months.
But that thought only flashed through his mind for a second before he tucked it away.
"It's not a total loss," he said. "Items from the Ancient East have a certain market value among collectors. You can put it on a bookshelf to chat about when you have guests over."
Mason patted Warren on the shoulder. "Hear that? You bought a decoration. The classy kind."
Warren glared at him, but ended up smiling first.
Grey packed the candle and candlestick into her bag. As she walked over, she cast a glance at Richard.
"You're... really different today."
"Running a fever will do that. You wake up with a few more thoughts in your head."
"It's not just having more thoughts." Grey thought about it for a second. "You barely used to speak in class."
Richard smiled. Some things couldn't be explained.
Hugh leaned in and whispered, "Why didn't you mention that ideomotor thing earlier? It really scared me when the candle went out just now."
"You never asked."
"So... are spirit mediums and witches all just scams?"
Richard's tone turned serious. "Most of them are, but it's best not to try it."
"Why not? Since it's fake..."
"You don't know enough about it to judge which ones are fake. What happens if you run into a real one?"
Hugh choked on his words and obediently shut his mouth.
Warren had finished packing up. He walked over carrying his bag and slung an arm over Richard's shoulder.
In the social language of teenage boys, this gesture meant he was fully accepted.
Richard brushed Warren's arm off and focused his consciousness on the Panel: [Available Points: 1]
There was no rush. He could figure out which direction to allocate it to once he got back.