Chapter 178:Notebook.
Silver quietly drifted away from the others while they continued discussing how to divide the beast cores. No one paid him much attention.
Dillian was checking James’ inventory for a second time, while Maya and Selene carefully inspected several preservation cases to ensure they could be transported safely. Iris had already begun calculating how many ordinary cores each person might receive once everything was divided.
That left Silver free to satisfy his curiosity. The old desk stood in the far corner of the vault beneath a faded canvas cover.
He brushed the cloth aside. A cloud of dust rose into the air before slowly settling again. The desk itself was surprisingly well made. Unlike most of the furniture outside, this one hadn’t rotted away.
Several drawers remained tightly shut. Silver pulled on the first, but it refused to move. He tried another, still locked.
"The researchers certainly liked their locks," he muttered.
He gave the final drawer a firm tug. With a loud creak, it suddenly slid open. Inside, there wasn’t much; only a broken fountain pen, several yellowed sheets of blank paper, an old identification card whose photograph had faded beyond recognition and... A thick notebook bound in dark blue leather.
Silver carefully lifted it out.
Unlike the surrounding documents, this notebook had been wrapped in a waterproof cloth before being placed inside the drawer. The pages remained remarkably well preserved.
His curiosity immediately grew. He opened the cover. Unlike the journals they had read upstairs, this wasn’t a personal diary.
The first page was neatly titled.
Project: Spatial Transit Research
Silver blinked.
"...Spatial?"
He instinctively looked around. The others remained busy; no one had noticed what he had found.
He lowered his gaze back to the notebook. The first several pages contained engineering sketches. Large circular machines, complex arrays, and energy pathways. None of it made much sense to him at first glance; still, one phrase appeared repeatedly.
Spatial Anchor.
Silver quietly flipped another page. The handwriting remained neat and professional.
"Traditional transportation remains too slow between distant Sanctuaries. The increase in beast activity has made long-distance travel increasingly dangerous. If humanity wishes to survive, instantaneous transit must become reality."
Silver slowly continued reading. The notebook explained that researchers across several Sanctuaries had begun investigating the Space Attribute.
Unlike fire or wind, space itself behaved differently. Space-element beasts naturally possessed an extraordinary sense of direction. Many of them repeatedly returned to the same locations regardless of distance.
Researchers had begun referring to this instinct as spatial anchoring.
Another passage caught his attention.
"Human space users exhibit a similar subconscious phenomenon. During repeated spatial movement, users demonstrate increased stability when teleporting toward locations they have visited numerous times."
Silver’s eyes narrowed.
"...So that’s why."
He remembered his own experiences. Short-Step always felt smoother when he moved through familiar surroundings. At first, he had assumed it was simply experience, but now, there might have been another reason entirely.
He turned another page. The notebook continued.
"Our objective is not merely teleportation."
"We seek to artificially reproduce spatial anchoring through technology."
Beneath the paragraph sat another detailed sketch. A massive circular platform connected to countless energy conduits.
Silver frowned.
"They were trying to build teleportation gates..."
Machines capable of transporting ordinary people. His heartbeat quickened slightly. The notebook continued explaining the theory.
If researchers could stabilize space itself, entire cities could be connected, supply routes would become nearly instantaneous, and contractors could reinforce distant Sanctuaries before beast tides overwhelmed them.
Humanity’s survival rate would increase dramatically. The idea was brilliant, unfortunately... The next page explained why everything had stalled.
"Progress remains unacceptable."
"Confirmed space-element beasts remain exceptionally rare."
"Living specimens cannot be secured consistently."
"Human space users are immediately recruited by major Sanctuaries upon awakening, preventing long-term cooperative research."
Silver nodded slowly.
That matched everything he already knew. Space users were simply too valuable. No Sanctuary would willingly allow them to disappear into a laboratory for years.
Every awakened space contractor became an important strategic asset. The notebook continued.
"Without sufficient data, theoretical progress has reached its limit."
"Project suspended indefinitely until additional specimens become available."
Silver couldn’t help smiling faintly.
"So they never solved it."
They hadn’t failed because their theories were wrong. They had failed because they lacked enough information, subjects, space beasts, and space users.
His fingers unconsciously tightened around the notebook. For anyone else, this was little more than abandoned research. For him, it was priceless.
This was decades of accumulated knowledge from scientists who had devoted their lives to understanding the same attribute he possessed.
He quietly turned several more pages. Later Chapters became increasingly technical: mathematical calculations, energy conversion ratios, and stability tests.
Most of it exceeded his current understanding; still, he recognized enough to know one thing. If he grew stronger, if his mastery over space continued developing... This notebook could become incredibly useful someday.
He gently closed the cover.
"...I’ll study it later."
There was no reason to leave it behind. Most people would consider it nothing more than outdated scientific theory. Only someone capable of manipulating space could truly appreciate its value.
Silver glanced toward the others one final time. Everyone remained occupied with the beast cores. Without drawing attention, he quietly opened one of the slots in his Limited Storage.
A faint ripple distorted the surrounding space, and the notebook vanished silently. The storage closed just as quickly.
Silver smiled to himself.
Sometimes, the most valuable treasure wasn’t the one that glowed the brightest. Just then, Dillian’s voice echoed across the chamber.
"Silver! We’ve finished counting."
Silver turned around.
"Coming."
He walked back toward the center of the vault, his expression as calm as ever.
Only he knew that, while everyone else had been focused on the beast cores, he had walked away with a different kind of treasure, one that might one day shape the future of humanity’s understanding of space itself.
Silver returned to the center of the vault just as Dillian turned to look at him, eyebrow raised, before looking back down at the book.