I will burn books and slay gods.

"Karma is not punishment, but balance."

Old Li, wearing a hospital gown stained with oil, sat cross-legged on the floor of the activity room, fiddling with a radio that had been dismantled in half.

"He doesn't even look up; he just keeps adding firewood. Once the firewood runs out, the fire goes out. If you want the fire to burn brighter, you have to burn even more, maybe even throw yourself in."

Old Li picked up a capacitor, squinted at it under the light, and said, “'Affinity' is your fire, and 'karma' is the firewood you burn, or... the part of yourself that gets burned.”

This is the activity room on the top floor of Morning Star Hospital, one of the few places where you won't be disturbed by ordinary medical staff and patients. In Lao Li's words, this is the "teaching area".

Chen Ye listened quietly, digesting this information that overturned his previous understanding.

He has been in Morningstar for a week, experienced three different degrees of "Nightmare Invasion", and has gained a basic understanding of his environment.

This world has two layers, an outer layer and an inner layer.

The surface world is a normal society, while the inner world (Nightmare Realm) is a dimension where human fear and madness breed.

Nightmares are the most concrete and dangerous manifestation of this.

Morning Star Hospital, ostensibly a mental hospital, is actually the "Night Watch Headquarters" that protects the surface world, housing and training awakened individuals like them who bear "affinity" and "karma".

"The manifestations of karmic obstacles vary from person to person."

Old Li continued, his gaze sweeping over the three of them, "Lin Su's 'Nirvana Fire' burns away her seven emotions and six desires. If used too much, she'll eventually turn into a heartless stone. Wang boy is playing with 'causal threads,' but the price is his own sense of existence. The day he overuses it, even if he stands right in front of you, you won't remember he was ever here."

Finally, his gaze fell on Chen Ye: "As for you, scholar. Your 'Conceptual Sword in Books' is a double-edged sword. Knowledge is your power, but also your poison. The deeper you use it, the more that knowledge will linger in your mind. Today it might be geometric theorems arguing, tomorrow it might be historical figures waging war in your ear. The moment your logic is completely disrupted by them, that's when you're finished."

Chen Ye felt a chill rise up his spine. He recalled the persistent whispers and confusion in his mind after using his ability; it wasn't just mental exhaustion, but more like a kind of erosion of his very essence.

"So...we'll all eventually go mad?" he couldn't help but ask.

Old Li chuckled, revealing his teeth stained yellow from smoking: "Who knows? Maybe madness is the only way to stay conscious. But there are ways to slow it down."

He pointed to his heart, "To understand your true nature and know yourself. To know why you fight and what price you are willing to pay. The brighter your 'inner light' shines, the longer you can endure in the darkness."

"Lights?" Chen Ye caught this key word.

"Yes, in our lineage, we call the cultivation realm the 'Lamp Realm'."

Old Li finally put down the radio and said seriously, "The body is like a lamp, and the soul is like lamp oil, carrying the fire through the long night. The first level is the 'Ignition Realm,' and the three of you have just lit the flame."

He briefly explained the first few levels of the lamp realm: igniting the soul fire illuminates a room, the flame is passed down, and the lamp array forms itself...

"With each advancement, you gain stronger control over your own power and become more resistant to karmic obstacles. But similarly, the brighter the light you ignite, the more powerful and eerie the 'moths'—that is, the nightmares—you attract will be."

Just then, the lights in the activity room suddenly began to flicker violently, and countless shadows of rapidly moving, meaningless numbers and symbols appeared on the walls. A rustling sound, like computer calculations, filled the air.

Old Li frowned. "Tsk, 'Logic Worm,' a level two Nightmare, it loves to gnaw on order and logic. Didn't that kid Wang use his ability to deduce lottery numbers in the activity room last time?"

Wang Xiaoming, who had a low profile, shrank back and whispered, "I just wanted to improve our meals..."

Lin Su had already stood up, the blue flames reappearing at her fingertips, her eyes wary.

Old Li yawned. He picked up the radio again: "It's a small matter, perfect for you to practice. Remember, when dealing with this kind of thing, don't try to reason with it; your logic won't be as fast as its speed. You have to use 'absolute emotion' or 'no logic' to overwhelm it."

Chen Ye took a deep breath and looked at the shadows on the wall that were trying to create some kind of mathematical paradox.

He quickly pulled a book of poems from the bookshelf in the activity room and flipped to a modern poem with the most whimsical and illogical imagery.

He read aloud: "...the glass is clear, the oranges are brilliant..."

The imagery in the poem carries strong emotional color and vivid imagery, but lacks a rigorous logical chain.

When this purely "sensory" power, along with his "affinity," was materialized, it crashed into the shadow composed of pure logic like a virus. The numbers and symbols instantly became chaotic and distorted, and finally, like a screen with poor contact, they flickered a few times and disappeared completely.

The activity room has returned to normal.

Chen Ye felt a slight dizziness, and the crisp sound of "glass" and the sweet and sour smell of "oranges" echoed in his mind. This sensory confusion was his karma taking effect.

Lin Su glanced at him, her eyes seemingly showing a barely perceptible hint of approval.

Wang Xiaoming muttered under his breath, "It can be done like that..."

Old Li waved his hand without looking up: "Alright, that's all for today's lesson. Remember, karmic obstacles are a sword hanging over your heads, and the path beneath your feet is the lamplight. How far you can go depends on yourselves."

Chen Ye walked out of the activity room and looked out the corridor window.

As the sun set, it gilded that invisible "film" with a blood-red hue.

He touched the small copy of "Critique of Pure Reason" in his pocket.

The road was difficult, and the price was heavy.

But it seems he has found the starting point.