Dariush started reading the book. Its page topic said: "Phase Basic Information."
Dariush began to read. Hours later, he closed the book and put it on the small table beside himself. Then he got up from the chair and headed out of the library.
He thought to himself: From what I read, phase is a soul-based power. And its fuel is nether. It's like magic... but in a very complex way... maybe.
He continued to walk through the halls.
He continued thinking to himself: It's both strong and complex. Because I need to use my knowledge and imagination at the same time. If I want to make a fire sword, I need to know how I can make fire first—heat and its fuel, oxygen. Then I need to imagine the sword. But still, there is a problem...
He arrived at a door, pushed it open, and entered a room. It was the training room.
The training room was very big, and it was in the deepest part of the mansion.
Note: Dariush's mansion is very big—extremely big. Actually, a mansion that is nearly like a castle. Or at least a small-sized castle.
Dariush continued his thought, but said it aloud to himself: "And that problem is... Nexus and classes."
Dariush walked to the center of the training room floor.
He stood there for a moment, then said to himself: "My nexus... huh? It's a soul bond. With one class comes a nexus. And the nexus can be a weapon (e.g., a gun or sword) or an internal body part (e.g., heart or muscles).
"And mine... can be anything, even though I can't remember it fully. My memories are still like a shattered mirror. Or like... a puzzle."
He took a deep breath and said: "My nexus... come out."
After a moment, a revolver started to form in front of his eyes, levitating. Each part of it slowly and deliberately began to take form, and with small clicks, the pieces stuck to each other with such deliberation that it looked mesmerizing and beautiful.
Its handle was white leather. Its iron color was silver-like, but it wasn't silver. It was actually white gold.
Dariush extended his hand and took the gun. Then his pink eyes glowed faintly for a moment: "So... my class is… 'King of Guns.' A legendary class that gives the user the power to make any gun, and as many as the user wants."
Then he aimed his gun at a target. He felt a surge of energy in his veins, coming from his brain, heart, and soul. He felt his soul in his stomach and felt energy coming from them, moving through his body—muscles, bones, and veins—to the gun in his right arm.
He took a deep breath. His muscles tensed up, coiling like a bowstring. Then he fired.
As if the world slowed down, the bullet came out of the revolver, spinning with a barrier of heat around it. The bullet was silver-colored but burning red, as if its temperature was above normal bullets.
The bullet hit—but not the target. Instead, it hit the wall behind it.
Dariush's body relaxed, but before he even knew it, he fell to his knees and started coughing blood. The blood splashed on the ground beneath him, and blood dripped from his mouth.
He said with a strained voice: "My body is still weak. Even though I don't know why that is still. Every single day I eat, drink blood and meat. But I think still it's not enough... Even though I don't like blood... I drink it, but why is it still like this?"
Suddenly, he felt something. Then a sound came from his gun to his head. It said: "It's because your body isn't in form."
Dariush gritted his teeth and said to himself: I almost forgot that nexuses do have emotion and intelligence like humans. But anyway... I don't need to be told what to do. I know what to do.
The revolver said to his mind: "Then first, rest. And then drink more blood, even if you hate it."
Dariush responded through his mind: I hate it... I should hate it, but I am starting to love it, and it scares me.
Dariush started to get up slowly, swaying slightly. But he steadied himself.
Then Dariush said to him with a low voice: "I can walk away right now. Right?"
The revolver's magazine spun in agreement.
Dariush smirked and said: "But I don't want to. Because I can already use phase. If I stop here, I will regret it. So I won't stop until I get more results."
The revolver's magazine spun again, and it said: "Don't get greedy. You might regret it before you know it."
Dariush let out a low chuckle and said with a hint of arrogance and clear greed in his tone: "Greed is what I love more than anything, and it's what makes me 'me.' In my previous life, before I got into this body, and in this body... I was greedy—so greedy. More importantly, every time I achieved something... I wanted more. Not because I didn't have it, but because I desired it. I enjoyed it. That's why... I was a billionaire in my previous life."
The revolver's magazine spun—this time twice—and then said with amusement: "I like that. Then go ahead and do what you desire. I will help as much as I can. But you need to get results. I love results, and I want them."
Dariush began to get undressed. He only peeled off his upper body attire. He neatly folded them and put them on a bench that was nearby.
His body was muscular, yet not bulky. It was elegant, refined, and slightly lean and out of form.
Dariush stretched his arms and said: "Very well... Let's start from here and now."
Then, with a flick of his wrist, the revolver vanished.
Then he got into a push-up position—but doing spider push-ups.
Instantly, from the corner of his lips, blood started rolling down and falling onto the ground beneath him.