High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 789: Chapter 137: Different Anomalies, Similar Guesses_1

Up until he was 18, Zheng Qing lived in a world we’ll call the Scientific World. One feature of this world that he greatly appreciated was that everything followed a logic, a pursuit of truth.

For instance, if in the depths of the night you saw wavering white or bluish-green flames over a cemetery, you could determine based on their properties and composition that it was only low-ignition phosphine undergoing a spontaneous combustion reaction at ambient temperatures.

Or, say mountain climbers encountered an avalanche at 6,000-meter altitude, geologists would tell you that it happened because an external force like rolling rocks, footstep vibrations, and wind noise disrupted the stalemate between the cohesion and gravity within the accumulated snow. This disturbance caused the external pressure to exceed the cohesion, ultimately resulting in the avalanche.

And if there was a murder in a private locked room, the police would always be able to meticulously search the scene, scrutinize video recordings, and after careful deduction based on residual water stains, dead-locked windows, and the composed demeanor of the staff, construct a clever but perfectly reasonable explanation of the murder method.

However, those procedures didn’t work so well in the Wizard World, in which Zheng Qing currently resides.

Because this is a world filled with magic.

In The Magical World, those white or bluish-green flames over the cemetery at night might be spirits wearing colored contacts wandering about; the cause of the avalanche could be giants dueling for the position of their leader, or maybe a Yeti throwing a tantrum because his long hair was cut off by tree branches; and there could be numerous methods of murder – curses, magic potions, witchcraft, nightmares, and so forth. Even Zheng Qing, who has been in The Magical World for less than half a year, could easily list off dozens of such methods.

This is an unfortunate aspect of The Magical World - its eternal uncertainty.

You can never know how far off your inferred conclusion is from the actual truth.

Of course, there are plenty of other downsides to The Magical World. Like the mold that thrives on the walls and floors of old houses, the pearl-colored ghosts that pop up now and again in a house where someone died, or the fact that after you’ve finally killed your century-old enemy and are celebrating on his grave, you return home to see him beating you up in your elementary school graduation photo.

It’s a sad state of affairs when you think about it.

But every cloud has a silver lining. The uncertainty of conclusions may increase the difficulty of decision-making but could also simplify the process of finding answers. Faced with any inconceivable or unresolvable question, all one need do is shrug, spread their hands, and say, ’That’s magic,’ and the problem simply fades away.

Just like now.

The elves that Zheng Qing was keeping exhibited major health problems. In theory, without a matching life potion, and only using the potion configured by Sand Hour to prolong their life, the elves should have begun showing a series of abnormal symptoms before their medication’s theoretical expiration date, such as dizziness, sleepiness, decreased cognitive ability, and slow reactions, among other things.

However, according to a medical examination carried out by Doctor Du Zemu, the elves were in excellent health – absurdly healthy, so much so that even the senior alchemist doctor found it hard to believe.

”This is unscientific!” The shocked cost student shouted a few seconds after Doctor Du Zemu attributed the abnormality of the elves to him. ”It doesn’t make any sense! Besides what you warned of, I never did anything else to them. Absolutely nothing!”

His agitated voice echoed oddly throughout the quiet courtyard.

Old Constantin, who was directing several different-colored kettles to water and fertilize the herbs in the garden, got startled by the young wizard’s outcry, and his hands accidentally bumped the kettles against each other.

”Ah! You idiot. You should have flown to the left. Didn’t I tell you so?” One green kettle shrieked. ”The pesticide in me almost got all spilled out. Each drop of it is worth a hundred times more than your belly full of water!”

”But I did fly to the left...” answered another yellow kettle in a feeble voice, trying to slide its body backward to avoid the spittle the green kettle was spraying at it.

”Idiot. Your positions to each other are relative. Your left is its right,” scoffed a red kettle stuck in between the two. It sneered at the yellow one first, then said sarcastically to the green one, ”Excuse me, your precious pesticide didn’t get spilled out in the collision. It all went out with your yells.”

”I’m sorry...” The yellow kettle moved a little closer to the red kettle with trepidation in its voice.

”Who are you calling an idiot, Red Kettle,” sneered the green kettle. ”Wanna compete on who’s faster at killing insects?!”

”That’s why you’re an idiot,” the red kettle snarled back, ” I’m not as silly as you... comparing the speed of killing insects when I only have a belly full of fertilizer.”

”All of you shut up!” The old manservant’s head throbbed with their quarreling, and in the end, threatened them by hitting his Crane’s Beak Hoe on the ground. ”Master is busy there doing important things now... stop your prattle, or I’ll smash you flat with this hoe!”

”I’ve been saying that copper kettles used for more than one year should be hammered with a hoe, otherwise, the dirt accumulated in its belly will block its brain... seems like you finally agreed with me.” The manservant’s hoe cackled hoarsely with laughter.

Zheng Qing faintly heard some commotion going on in the nursery nearby.

However, he was so consumed with Doctor Du Zemu’s words that he hadn’t the time to bother about the petty dispute between the copper kettles.

”This is unscientific, impossible...” Zheng Qing muttered, looking at the elves in the paper house with confusion.

This is very magical,” Doctor Du Zemu shrugged, spreading his hands in a nonchalant way, and added, ”Magic is the power which turns all kinds of inconceivability into reality... Your feelings of incredulity mean that you haven’t yet adapted to the power of magic, and to this magical world.”

”As for your feelings of impossibility,” Doctor Du Zemu began, lowering his head to look at Zhou Qing’s giant reddish sunglasses, and laughed, ”Since your eyes can turn into such beautiful colors, it shouldn’t be hard to comprehend that your elves might be affected a little... Think about it, has anything extraordinary happened to you that exceeds regular spells?”

Zheng Qing opened his mouth, intending to argue that his eyes turned red simply due to blood coagulation. But his rebuttal was interrupted by the doctor’s last line, making him recall the black cat that ran out from him during the freshmen tournament, the shadow that broke the two-dimensional barrier and entered this world, his abnormal transformation spell, Professor Yao and Su Shijun’s similar conjecture, and abruptly became silent.

Assuming that elves need life potions suit their nature for survival is akin to a universal law.

According to Old Yao, the most effective technique currently available in the wizard world capable of breaking this law is the Forbidden Curse.

Whether fortunately or unfortunately, Zheng Qing seems to have some degree of intersection with both.