Ryan immediately focused his attention to observe.
The speck of white light deep in his left eye was gradually dimming, and the white patterns on the back of his hand were beginning to fade.
After half an hour, his body temperature finally dropped.
He relit the kerosene lamp slightly. Although there was still a stinging pain, it was now barely bearable.
Ryan let out a sigh of relief.
“It can recede...”
What he feared most was it not stopping at all.
Afterward, Ryan began to test it seriously.
He first deliberately drew closer to the kerosene lamp to let himself absorb a bit more of the Lantern's Glory.
A few minutes later, his left eye began to burn again. He immediately backed away from the flame, sat in the darkness once more, and continued to observe.
As expected, The Glory began to slowly dissipate again.
This time, he could even sense a ‘capacity.’
It wasn't a specific number, but he could roughly perceive it.
Once the Lantern's Glory in his body exceeded a certain limit, his physical body would begin to break down, starting with his eyes and then his skin.
If he continued to absorb it, he would probably end up splitting apart entirely.
Ryan looked down at the back of his hand. Although the cracks from before had healed, faint traces still remained.
This indicated he had been close to his limit just now.
After another hour, the burning sensation inside him finally dissipated completely, and Ryan approached the kerosene lamp once more.
This time, there was basically no reaction. He fell silent for a few seconds, then spoke in a low voice.
“About two hours...”
At that rate, if he completely emptied the Lantern's Glory to return to a state where he could safely absorb it again, it would take about two hours.
And it also depended on the intensity of the ambient light.
The sun was the fastest.
Gas lamps were slightly slower.
Ordinary firelight was the slowest.
If he stood under the sun for too long, the Lantern's Glory inside his body would surge instantly, and his physical body wouldn't be able to withstand it.
As Ryan thought of this, his expression suddenly turned a bit strange.
A picture even formed in his mind.
In the dead of winter, while others walked around normally, he would be wrapped in black clothes, wearing dark glasses, with even his skin covered up tightly.
Ryan's lip twitched, but this was truly no laughing matter.
The pollution of the Lantern aspect had already begun to affect his physical body.
As he advanced in the future, these side effects would only grow more severe.
It was even possible that, in the end, he would truly have to live in complete avoidance of light.
However, Ryan didn't panic too much.
At least for now, he had found a way to maintain a balance.
“Don't overfill it.”
“Keep it in a low-Glory state normally.”
“And unleash it fully during combat.”
He summarized in a low voice.
If he did this, he should still be able to maintain his daily life.
Furthermore, after emptying the Lantern's Glory, he wasn't actually that different from a normal person, except for his absurdly sharp vision and the occasional glimpse of lingering Glory in the air.
Ryan lay back down on the bed. The attic was dark and quiet.
Looking up at the ceiling, he suddenly couldn't help but chuckle.
On Sunday morning, Ryan woke up very late.
Yesterday's ritual and the battle in the Wood had taken a heavy toll on him.
However, his condition was better than expected; at least his eyes had stopped bleeding.
As long as he didn't suddenly come into contact with light that was too bright, his body could basically remain stable.
The first thing he did after getting out of bed was to draw the blackout curtains tight again.
Only then did he slowly light the kerosene lamp. As the dim flame illuminated the attic, Ryan squinted to adjust to it for a moment.
Once he confirmed there was no issue, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
He didn't plan on touching the extraordinary today. He was going to take a day off, and while he was at it, spend some money.
He currently had over four pounds left on him.
In the East End, this was already considered a decent amount of savings.
Ryan had been terribly poor before.
Aside from a bed and a desk, there was almost nothing in the attic.
Now, he could finally live a somewhat decent life.
At nine in the morning, Ryan put on his coat and went out.
The weather was still cold, with puddles and coal dust everywhere along the streets, but it wasn't raining today. The streets of the East End were unusually lively.
Many people took advantage of Sunday to go shopping. Ryan first headed to the secondhand street.
He spent six shillings to buy a thick carpet.
It wasn't in great condition, with worn edges, but it was better than stepping onto the freezing wooden floorboards every day.
Afterward, he bought two more things: an old bookshelf and a small mirror with a brass frame.
The mirror wasn't large, but it was enough.
Ryan needed a mirror badly now; he had to constantly monitor the state of his eyes.
In case The Glory spiraled out of control one day, he could at least notice it in advance.
Aside from those, he also bought two pieces of thick, dark cloth specifically to cover the windows. The woman selling the cloth gave him a strange look.
“Blocking out the light even in broad daylight?”
Ryan replied casually, “I'm sensitive to the cold at night.”
The woman shrugged and didn't pry further.
Afterward, Ryan went to buy some daily necessities: a new towel, an enamel cup, a kettle, and a cheap coal stove.
It wasn't new, but at least it could boil water and provide warmth.
Before, his attic had been as cold as an ice cellar, and sleeping at night was a test of sheer endurance. Now, he could finally be a bit more comfortable.
At noon, Ryan even treated himself to a luxury.
He entered a small stew shop, ordered a hot beef soup, and added a piece of white bread.
When the owner brought over the hot soup, Ryan took a breath of the aroma and suddenly felt as if he hadn't truly been alive in a long time.
For the past few months, his daily diet had consisted of nothing but black bread and cold potatoes. Now, with a sip of hot meat soup, his stomach felt thoroughly comforted.
After finishing his meal, Ryan went to get a haircut. He had his hair trimmed short and his beard clean-shaven. Finally, he even bought a pair of dark glasses.
They weren't sunglasses.
No such thing existed in this era; they were more like colored goggles with darkened lenses, originally intended to shield workers from intense light.
After trying them on, Ryan found that they worked surprisingly well. At least the sun was no longer so blinding.
In the afternoon, he returned to St. Blaise Street with a pile of purchases.
Irene was completely stunned when she saw him carrying the coal stove.
“Did you strike it rich?”
Ryan smiled, “I got paid.”
Irene sized him up from head to toe, and then her expression suddenly turned a bit peculiar.
“You look... different today.”
Ryan paused in his movements, “Different how?”
Irene frowned and pondered for a long time, “I can't quite put my finger on it. You just seem much more energetic.”
Ryan's heart tightened slightly, but his expression remained unchanged.
“I've been sleeping well lately.”
He headed upstairs after saying that.
For the rest of the afternoon, Ryan spent his time tidying up the attic: he laid out the carpet, placed the bookshelf against the wall, set up the coal stove near the window, and refastened the blackout cloth.
Finally, the entire attic no longer looked as miserable as before.
Although it was still run-down, it at least felt somewhat lived-in.
In the evening, Ryan boiled a kettle of hot water and took a rare, proper bath.
Steam drifted through the cramped attic.
As he sat on the edge of the bed, he felt a sense of unreality.
A few months ago, when he had first transmigrated here, this place was no different from a morgue.
Now, it finally felt like a home.
The next day, Monday, it began to rain in London once more.
Ryan put on his dark glasses, dressed in his uniform, and went out.
A few people on the street gave him extra glances, as such glasses were uncommon, but Ryan didn't care. Right now, his eyes were far more important than keeping up appearances.
In the morning, the archive operated as usual: transcribing, registering, and organizing death records. It wasn't until nearly noon that the office suddenly fell quiet.
Rate on N.U.
