A cold sensation seeped into Ian’s right palm, and a faint silver-white halo shimmered at the edges of his vision.
Mind Control LV3, Duplication complete.
Abilities solidified: Short-Range Memory Reading, Memory Erasure, False Memory Implantation, Basic Hypnosis.
Ian closed his eyes, sensing how to use the new abilities.
Like learning to ride a bike, his body already knew what to do—it just needed practice.
He opened his eyes again, looking at Rufus’s face.
His right hand was still pressed there.
He didn’t need to duplicate anymore, but he needed to test.
Ian focused his mind, his consciousness like an invisible needle piercing into Rufus’s brain.
He saw fragments.
Rufus’s memories were like a ball of yarn tangled by a cat, filled with all sorts of disgusting scenes.
Parties, drugging, girls’ terrified faces, then blankness.
There were also confidentiality agreements handed over by the legal department, lawyers’ smiling faces, phone calls from parents.
Ian frowned.
He didn’t like these images, but he needed to find the recent memory.
He found it.
Right on the surface.
A memory from three minutes ago: seeing the Asian kid enter, cursing a few times, going into the bathroom, then stepping out of the bathroom door… After that, blankness.
The moment the Shockwave knocked him out, the memory cut off.
Ian began to weave.
He implanted a new memory: Rufus finished up and walked out of the bathroom, saw the new roommate standing at the door, and they exchanged a brief greeting.
Then Rufus looked around the dorm and suddenly felt the place was awful.
The mattress was as hard as a coffin board, the air always reeked.
He immediately decided he had to change dorms—couldn’t stay a moment longer.
At the same time, Ian buried a suggestion deep in Rufus’s memory: nothing had just happened.
No conflict, everything was boring, not worth remembering.
Implantation complete.
Ian withdrew his right hand, shaking his wrist.
The Shockwave in his left palm slowly dissipated, the blue light fading.
He stood up, his knees cracking.
He walked to the window, pulled open the curtains, letting the afternoon sunlight stream in.
Then he took a water cup from the plastic bag, went to the bathroom to fill it, and took a sip.
A few minutes later, Rufus groaned on the floor.
His eyelids fluttered, slowly opening.
His gaze was first confused, then turned into a deep-seated disgust.
He pushed himself up, rubbing his chest.
“Fuck, what a shitty dorm,” Rufus muttered.
He got up, patted his pants, didn’t even glance at Ian, and walked straight to his own bed.
He grabbed his backpack, haphazardly stuffed in a few clothes, shoved his laptop into its sleeve, his movements hurried.
At the door, Rufus paused.
He looked back at Ian, his eyes not suspicious, just filled with a disdainful look of how could you stand living here.
“Suit yourself,” Rufus said.
“This place is fit for rats.”
The door slammed shut.
Footsteps quickly faded down the hallway.
Ian stood in the middle of the room, still holding the cup of water.
He took another sip, then walked to the bed where Rufus had just been lying, pulled off the blanket, balled it up, and threw it into the trash bin outside the door.
He returned to his own bed, spread out the new blanket he’d bought from Walmart, and sat down.
He was the only one left in the dorm room.
The air still carried the foul odor Rufus had left behind, but with the window open, the breeze was slowly dispersing it.
After using his ability to drive Rufus away, Ian lay on the bed for a while, resting and recovering from the exhaustion of prolonged ability use.
Just then, his phone vibrated twice on the nightstand.
He reached over and picked up the phone.
The screen showed a message from Jordan.
“Hey bro, have you checked in yet?
Which building are you in?”
Ian typed: “D-317.”
“What a coincidence, I’m in D-325.
Just a few rooms away.
Wanna grab some food?”
“Sure.
Meet downstairs in a bit.”
Ian got up and took a quick shower.
He changed into a newly bought black T-shirt and jeans, then headed out.
When he reached the second floor, he paused.
The stairwell window faced the direction of the administration building.
A blonde figure was walking along the stone path, wearing an oversized gray hoodie.
Both of her hands were clad in thick black leather gloves, fingers curled into the sleeves as she tightly clutched a few books, their corners pressed against her chin.
Cate.
During a family camping trip when she was nine, annoyed by her younger brother’s noise, she unconsciously uttered, “Go away, and never come back,” triggering her Telepathy ability.
This led to her brother getting lost and ultimately dying.
After that, she was locked in her bedroom for nine years.
Her parents saw her as a monster and insisted she wear thick gloves to prevent her from accidentally touching others and to stop her from saying something she shouldn’t again.
It wasn’t until Principal Indira learned of her ability and visited, providing her with medication to control it, that she was brought to Godolkin and given a chance at a “normal” life.
Cate had likely just come from the principal’s office to pick up her medication or had just been reprimanded.
Ian watched her figure disappear into the revolving door of the administration building.
“What are you looking at?”
Jordan’s voice came from behind.
Ian turned around.
“Nothing.
Let’s go eat.” Ian withdrew his gaze and continued down the stairs.
Jordan leaned against the window, following the direction Ian had been looking.
“Oh, that blonde girl.” Jordan whistled.
“You into that type?
The broody kind?”
“Just reminded me of something.”
“She looks like the type who writes sad poetry,” Jordan said, catching up to Ian as they headed toward the cafeteria.
“Or keeps three cats in her dorm and doesn’t talk to anyone.”
“Maybe.”
Jordan shrugged and didn’t press further.
The cafeteria was bustling.
The two of them carried trays and lined up at the pizza and burger counters.
Jordan piled three slices of pizza onto his plate, while Ian only took a grilled chicken salad and a cup of black coffee.
At a nearby table, a group was loudly discussing last night’s party.
“You went to the one on the lawn?
Someone set the grill on fire, and the fire suppression system didn’t even activate.”
“What happened to the idiot playing with fire?”
“An upperclassman doused him with a bucket of water.
Classic.”
Ian turned to Jordan.
“Sounds like there’s a freshman party on the lawn outside.
Wanna check it out?”
Jordan glanced at the group discussing the party, his eager eyes tinged with hesitation.
“Alright, why not?
Nothing else to do anyway.”
The lawn was already buzzing with energy.
Speakers were set up in the back of a pickup truck, the bass thumping so hard it made the ground tremble.
Hundreds of young people crowded the lawn, some holding beer cans, others floating three meters in the air.
The place moved to the rhythm, a bald kid spitting fire into the sky.
The air was thick with the smoke of grilled meat, perfume, sweat, and something sharper, harder to pin down—maybe tobacco, maybe something else.
He was here, in his element.