Chapter 58: Essence of Wind Oil

When enemies meet, their eyes blaze with unspoken fire.

Yet Su Mu quietly set down her handheld device, her fingers still, her voice silent.

Irina was right—she was rather wicked, wasn’t she?

But once she disconnected from the digital world, that familiar hollowness crept back, a slow tide of loneliness pooling in her chest. 

In this room, stripped of the internet’s distractions, time seemed to have nowhere to go. 

No outlet, no escape, nothing to burn away the hours.

Unless, of course, she surrendered to sleep.

The thought sent a shiver through Su Mu, sharp and electric.

No, definitely not that.

“Irina,” she ventured, “in the dreamscape, can you still fall asleep?”

“Of course not,” Irina replied, her voice light but firm. 

“I can enter a sort of standby mode, but I usually stay awake. Keeps things interesting.”

“Then what do you do to pass the time? Are there… entertainments in the third-layer dreamscape?”

“Oh, plenty to do. It’s hardly a leisurely stroll. I’m busy scraping together enough to pay off my debts.”

Debts? 

Could she mean that mysterious bill from Tang Nai?

Su Mu’s mind flickered to the cryptic invoice, but she shook her head. 

Tang Nai and Irina weren’t supposed to know each other.

Still, Irina had mentioned that anyone above C-rank could access the third-layer dreamscape. 

Did that mean Tang Nai—or even Lando—might cross paths with Irina there?

“What kind of debts?” Su Mu pressed.

“Magic, naturally,” Irina said with a wry edge. 

“The interest on the magic I borrowed from her is downright criminal.”

Irina’s lips twitched at the thought of Naitu’s usurious loan terms. 

Unless she kept stirring up chaos on the forums, scavenging the forgotten dreamscapes of ancient witches would take her until the end of time to settle her account.

Worse, her luck had been sour lately. 

The magic she’d managed to harvest wasn’t even enough to cover her reserves, and she was already a thousand rabbits in the red.

Lying in bed, it seemed, was still the fastest way to rake in magic—or money.

No choice left, then. 

She’d have to squeeze those fools for all they were worth.

“And if you don’t pay?” Su Mu asked.

“Don’t pay?” Irina’s tone darkened. 

“Let’s just say very bad things happen.”

It wouldn’t be as simple as revenge.

But if she could amass enough magic, maybe she could buy out Tang Nai herself. 

Then the tables would turn—oh, how deliciously they’d turn.

“When I reach C-rank,” Su Mu declared, “I’m coming down to find you.”

“Good,” Irina replied, her voice soft but sharp, like a blade catching the light.

She gazed at the dark magic distilling in the warehouse, impurities evaporating into the air, and allowed herself a faint smile. 

Retirement was starting to look like a real possibility.

Su Mu stared at the pale gray walls surrounding her, her eyes dimming. 

Her room felt barren, desolate. 

No bookshelves, no photographs—just a wardrobe, a desk, and a bed. 

In the vast emptiness of her bedroom, these sparse furnishings seemed like the faint outlines of a colorless sketch.

She hadn’t even noticed how the bleakness of the scene had seeped into her gaze, tinting her eyes a lifeless gray.

[Warning: Submersion level exceeds 30%. Immediate departure from this area is advised.]

The alert from her handheld device jolted her mind, yanking her from her reverie. 

Su Mu sat up instinctively.

Even without the warning, she had no desire to linger here.

The other areas could wait for another day’s exploration.

Moments later, Su Mu reappeared in the lounge area, clutching a pot of sunflowers that seemed to grin with quiet joy.

She was awake now—truly awake—and the thought of slipping back into sleep held no appeal.

Staying alert left her dizzy, her head spinning as she rose, yet her body thrummed with an inexplicable surge of magic.

It must be the dreamscape’s doing. 

The second layer, it seemed, was laced with stray currents of magic, and without realizing it, she’d absorbed a flood of it.

“Su Mu, you’re up early,” a voice called. 

“It’s a class day, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Su Mu replied, her eyes landing on Tang Nai, who had appeared at the foot of the stairs.

For a fleeting moment, she felt an odd warmth toward the silver-haired witch, but she quickly shook it off.

Loneliness, it seemed, could make even Tang Nai’s sharp features seem oddly… appealing. 

But Tang Nai’s beauty was the kind that could be described, quite literally, as “edible”—leaving only her clear, piercing eyes to linger in Su Mu’s mind.

“Your eyes look awfully gray,” Tang Nai remarked. 

“How about a drop of potion to fix that?”

“Oh, please,” Su Mu shot back. 

“I don’t have cataracts. If anything, you’re the one who looks like you need it.”

Tang Nai’s silver-gray eyes were even paler than Irina’s, matching her hair perfectly. 

Yet the shadows that danced within her irises lent them a depth that kept them from feeling monotonous.

“Easy, now,” Tang Nai said, unfazed by the retort. 

She pulled out a delicate hand mirror and placed it before Su Mu. 

“Take a good look.”

Su Mu met her own reflection and froze. 

Her once-vivid blue eyes seemed drained, faded to a cold, indifferent ice-blue. 

They looked foreign, like the eyes of someone she’d dread trying to talk to.

“What’s happening to me?” she whispered.

“You must’ve stayed lucid in the dreamscape last night,” Tang Nai said with a sly grin. 

“That’s a sign of lingering submersion. Don’t worry—I’ve got just the thing.”

Her smile turned wicked as she produced a small bottle of luminous green liquid.

“One drop, nose pinched, and you’re good as new.”

Su Mu eyed the bottle warily, then glanced at Tang Nai’s increasingly mischievous grin. 

She swallowed hard.

“You’re not… putting it in my eyes, are you?”

Tang Nai’s eyes sparkled with unexpected delight. 

“You could, and the effect would be spectacular. Though, fair warning, it might come with some… unpleasant side effects.”

Su Mu’s heart raced as she mentally pinged Irina. 

‘What is this stuff? Is it safe?’

“How should I know?” Irina’s voice came back, tinged with amusement. 

“There’s no magic in it, so I can’t even tell what it is.”

‘Any other way to deal with this submersion thing?’

“Oh, plenty of ways,” Irina said with a chuckle. 

“But Tang Nai’s the expert here. Just do what she says.”

Irina’s advice was usually solid, but why did Su Mu feel a creeping sense of dread?

“Do I have to pinch my nose?” she asked, hesitant.

“If you don’t, it won’t work as well,” Tang Nai said, her enthusiasm shifting. 

“But dripping it in your eyes could be fun. I’ve never tried that before.”

Tang Nai’s sudden fixation on this new idea made Su Mu abandon the notion entirely. 

She snatched the green bottle from Tang Nai’s hand.

Fine. 

She’d drink it. 

Better a quick sting than prolonged agony.

Pinching her nose, she tilted the bottle, aiming a drop at her tongue.

This damn glass bottle—why wouldn’t it pour? 

Finally, a single drop fell, and Su Mu’s tongue erupted in fiery agony. 

She gagged, desperate to spit it out, but the single drop had already spread, searing through her mouth.

Pinching her nose only made it worse, the pungent fumes flooding her sinuses. 

She gasped, choking on the air.

It felt like her entire head had been doused in fire.

“Tang Nai, you absolute menace!” Su Mu wheezed, her voice hoarse. 

“Where the hell did you get unlabeled wind oil essence?”

Tang Nai burst into laughter, her eyes gleaming as she watched Su Mu’s now-clear gaze.

The talk of “lingering submersion” sounded arcane, impenetrable. 

But in simpler terms, it was something far more mundane.

She just hadn’t fully woken up.