Chapter 1: No, I Refuse

The sky over London was as gloomy as ever.

Woods Orphanage.

Room 201.

Thud!

A heavy wardrobe drifted gently down from the air and landed on the floor.

[Three hundred and fifty-eight manipulations completed. This fully proves one thing: the stronger my will, the more focused my mind, the greater and more precise the force I can control... Perhaps this power is a kind of idealistic force?]

Levit looked at the small notebook in his hand, its pages covered with his notes, then added another line with a battered pencil.

[Despite repeated experiments, I still cannot determine the source or scientific principle of this power, nor do I know if anyone else possesses such an ability.]

Levit closed the notebook and, together with the broken pencil, slipped it into his pocket.

“All right, that’s as far as the manipulation experiments can go for now. Next, the second phase: repair trials…” he said, pulling a cracked chair over from beside the bed.

Levit placed his hand on the chair and patted it softly. Instantly, the chair crumbled into pieces, scattering across the floor as if it had only ever been crudely glued together with poor-quality adhesive.

He gazed at the fragments, then solemnly extended his right hand, focusing his mind to the highest degree...

“Repair!”

No sooner had the word left his lips than the scattered pieces began to stir, slowly reassembling themselves as if a film were playing in reverse. Soon, the chair was whole again, though the cracks remained—albeit, at a glance, somewhat fewer than before.

Levit took a piece of string and measured it against the longest crack on the chair, a glimmer of delight lighting his youthful face.

He discovered that this crack was shorter than after the last repair!

He pulled out his notebook once more and began to record.

...

As expected, this power can indeed be used to repair objects. The only reason I haven’t achieved full restoration is that I haven’t completely mastered this ability! Yet as my command of it steadily improves, the results become ever more impressive!

After his moment of excitement, Levit looked at his palms, his youthful face touched with a melancholy far beyond his years. Though this power was wondrous and brimmed with limitless potential, if he had a choice, he would still prefer to remain in his own time.

Yes, Levit was a transmigrant. A week ago, while conducting an experiment in his lab at the critical moment, darkness overtook him—and he found himself here, his body mysteriously reverted to that of an eleven-year-old. Most astonishing of all, he had somehow gained a strange power that could easily affect other objects.

It wasn’t until he was mistaken for an orphan and sent to the orphanage that he had to accept this absurd reality and promptly set about understanding the basics of this world.

This was, in fact, Britain in the 1930s! More precisely, he was now in London, 1938.

1938 was hardly a good year—soon, a failed art student would plunge the world into war, and London would be bombed to ruins.

With crisis looming, Levit considered his peculiar new power might be his only advantage. Besides, he was deeply curious about its mysterious nature.

Thus, Levit began diligently practicing and experimenting with his ability, and his progress had been remarkably swift.

Unknowingly, Levit had already spent his first week in this era, utterly absorbed in his trials.

After a brief rest, he dismantled the chair again, ready to begin the second trial as planned. War was coming; he had little time.

Bang!

Suddenly, the tightly closed door was kicked open with force, slamming against the wall with a loud crash.

Levit frowned slightly and looked up. There, in the doorway, stood a boy about his own age.

The boy’s hair was jet-black, and his features were strikingly handsome—an appearance that, under other circumstances, would easily inspire goodwill. However, his skin was deathly pale, and his gaze was cold and menacing.

“So, you’re the new Oriental boy,” the stranger said, his voice gentle yet laced with arrogance as he scrutinized Levit. “Nothing particularly special about you… So, how did you get the old woman to give you the best room? Did you rely on that pretty face of yours?”

Levit met his gaze evenly. “Your way of knocking is certainly… distinctive.”

Thanks to his previous profession, Levit’s English was flawless, and conversation posed no challenge.

“You seem a bit defiant? A week ago, another fool wasn’t too obedient either.” A cruel smile flickered across the boy’s lips. “But that night, I hanged his pet rabbit from the rafters.”

“Oh?” Levit noticed the unhealthy smile. “So, does that sort of thing make you happy?”

“Happy? No. I do it so they’ll fear me.” The boy stepped inside, his eyes never leaving Levit. “Only when people are afraid will they obey you, follow your orders. I never tolerate anyone defying my will.”

“I see… So, Mr. Intimidation, what exactly would you have me do?”

At first, Levit had thought the boy merely troubled—a child who delighted in tormenting animals, not uncommon in orphanages. But now, it seemed there was more to it than that.

Seeing Levit appear ready to yield, the boy’s lips curled in a self-satisfied smile.

“I’ve asked Mrs. Cole many times to let me have this room… but she keeps me in the dark, damp ground floor,” he said, staring intently at Levit.

Levit nodded. “So you want to trade rooms with me.”

“You’re much cleverer than the other idiots.” The boy seemed pleased at how quickly Levit understood. “In fact, if the old crone hadn’t locked me in the box room for a whole week over a rabbit, I’d have come for you sooner.”

Levit nodded again. “I understand perfectly—no one wants to be stuck in a dank, gloomy place forever.”

“So, you agree?”

“No. I refuse.”