Chapter 1287: The ten pages

    “…Like anyone else, you’re allowed to read the first ten pages before making a purchase.”

    “…..” Robin gazed long and hard at the wrinkled face of the old human man for several seconds. Then, with a casual scratch to the side of his head, he extended his hand slowly. “Alright, why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do with my time today.” He gently accepted the ten worn pages from the blind man, handling them as if they were delicate relics.

    His very first impression could be summed up in a single thought: Why do these things still exist?!

    The pages were crafted from the dried skin of some kind of beast—clearly chosen for durability, meant to endure the passage of time, warping, and decay. And yet, despite that intention, the paper looked brittle, as though it might crumble into dust if held too tightly or breathed on too hard. On top of that, they were soaked and stained by nearly every kind of liquid imaginable. Water, oil, ink, perhaps even blood—it was hard to tell. Scorch marks scorched their edges, suggesting they had been caught in multiple fires and somehow survived. It was nothing short of a miracle that the pages remained legible at all.

    “Incredible…” Robin murmured, slowly flipping through the fragile sheets, examining their condition with a curious gleam in his eyes. At first, he seemed far more fascinated by the physical state of the pages than their actual contents. But eventually, he settled down, held the first page carefully between his fingers, and began to read aloud with a faint, almost playful smile. “Let’s see what we’ve got here… Dark energy and dark matter, the two veiled forces hidden beneath the shroud of gravity. These two forces operate alongside gravity, but no one ever truly sees them or notices their influence and…”

    As he continued reading the first line, the amused expression on his face began to fade—very slowly at first, like the sun setting behind a cloud—but by the fourth line, the smile was gone entirely. His brows gradually knitted together in a frown, and by the time he reached the bottom of the first page, his eyes were narrowed, and his expression had turned serious. By the end of the second page, he was resting his chin on his palm, as though anchoring himself to focus more deeply.

    The blind old man, though lacking eyes, slightly raised his head in Robin’s direction. His body language gave the impression that he was watching him intently, quietly observing every change in Robin’s face as he read.

    “….!!!” By the time Robin finished the tenth page, his eyes had widened to their limit. He stacked the pages carefully, neatly, as if they were sacred artifacts, then looked down at the ground, his brows deeply furrowed. He stood in still silence for several moments, obviously lost in thought, piecing together the implications of what he had just read.

    Several long minutes passed. Then, with a smooth motion of his hand, he conjured a sealed cloth pouch and offered it to the old man. His voice was firm and decisive. “There are one hundred energy pearls in here. I want the book.”

    “The book is not for sale,” the blind man replied calmly, shaking his head with quiet finality.

    Robin’s face darkened in an instant, his features twisting into irritation. “Don’t joke around with me, old man. I’m not in the mood. I’m taking the book with me today—even if it means dragging you along with it!”

    “What, are you a thief? I am here under official license from the market authorities. If you attempt to rob me, you will be stopped immediately.” The old man gestured to the side with a slow nod of his head. Robin turned to look in the indicated direction.

    There, several guards were patrolling the marketplace. They wore mismatched pieces of armor—nothing ceremonial or unified—but their movements were efficient, alert, and deliberate. They blended into the scenery until you really looked. They weren’t there for show. They were watching everything, and they were ready.

    Robin had, admittedly, wondered before how theft, violence, or scams were kept in check in such a place—a chaotic market known for deception and danger. Now, the answer was clear. Someone was always watching.

    But this was not the time for Robin to admire their security system. He turned back to the old man, annoyed and confused. “What is wrong with you exactly? Why are you sitting here in a vendor’s seat with a price on the book if you never actually intended to sell it? Is this some kind of twisted hobby of yours?!”

    “The price is merely so that I may legally sit here among the other vendors,” the blind man replied in a dry, crackling voice, the kind that spoke of decades without moisture. “As for the absurdly high price… it is a filter. I set it so that no one would try to buy it for petty reasons. Only those who truly value its content would ever consider paying such a sum.”

    “I do value it! That’s a hundred energy pearls—not ten, not twenty—a hundred!” Robin exclaimed, his tone laced with exasperation as he pushed the cloth pouch forward once more, its contents clinking faintly. “Take them. And give me the book.”

    The old blind man, still unmoving, seemed to listen not just with his ears, but with something deeper—an ancient stillness in his being. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice no louder than a whisper caught in the breeze.

    “…I’ve sat in this exact spot, every single day, for long years,” he began, the words emerging slowly, weighed down by time. “And in all that time, only two individuals before you have expressed a genuine willingness to buy this book after reading the initial ten pages. Had they passed the test, they would have received the book freely, without paying a single pearl, sigh~”

    Robin blinked. “Test? What test? What are you talking about? Isn’t this just a sale?”

    The old man ignored the indignation in his voice. “Both of them—those two before you—only desired the book for the quality of its material. The parchment. The rarity. They wished to sell it to some high-end auction house, where collectors drool over ancient scraps they barely understand.”

    A scoff, subtle but bitter. “So I refused them both. You… you are the third.”

    Robin’s brow furrowed, frustration mounting. “This is ridiculous. What’s with all the riddles and games? What kind of merchant tests buyers?!”

    “The test is simple,” the old man murmured. “Read the first ten pages. And then… answer my question.”

    He slowly lifted his face toward Robin, and though his eyes were long lost to darkness, it felt as though they pierced through the air with unspoken weight.

    “My question is this: What did you learn from those ten pages?”

    Robin hesitated. “What I learned…? Are you serious?” He crossed his arms and let out a sharp exhale. “There’s nothing concrete in those pages. No laws. No runes. No experiments. They’re just… speculative theories. Fascinating ones, sure. The idea that there are two hidden forces—dark energy and dark matter—working behind the scenes, subtly shaping the cosmos… yes, it’s intriguing! But there’s no proof. No formulas. Nothing to learn. Just a compelling introduction. And I want to read more!”

    Still, the old man remained motionless. Calm. Immovable.

    “What did you learn?” he repeated.

    “…What did I learn?” Robin echoed the words, this time slower.

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    He stared at the ground, his hands clenched at his sides. The noise of the market around them began to fade—the shouts of merchants hawking their goods, the bickering of customers, the distant hum of energy-powered wagons—it all disappeared. In that moment, there was only silence… and the weight of the question.

    Finally, Robin spoke again, his voice quieter now. “…Dark matter holds galaxies together. Without it, stars and planets would be flung apart as galaxies spin. And dark energy, on the other hand, causes the universe to expand. It’s the force pushing galaxies away from each other, stretching space itself.”

    He inhaled slowly, then added, “The book claims these forces are real. Unseen, unacknowledged… yet essential. Forces that no one talks about, but that hold everything together—or pull it apart.”

    The old man’s voice came again, this time firmer:

    “Don’t tell me what the book said. Tell me what you understood. Not the facts. The truth beneath them. What do those forces represent?”

    Robin didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his brow tightened further, his eyes narrowing as though he were looking inward, peeling back layers of thought. He looked down at his own feet, then past them—into some unseen point in the void of his mind.

    “…Balance,” he said at last.

    The blind man’s head tilted slightly. “What did you say?”

    Robin raised his voice only a little, just enough to be heard clearly. “Balance,” he repeated. “If I have to distill those pages into one idea—one message—it’s that the universe survives through equilibrium. Two forces, invisible, ignored, unmeasured… yet they shape everything. One holds matter together—keeps solar systems, stars, and galaxies from flying apart into chaos. Without it, we wouldn’t be here.”

    He lifted his gaze slowly, as though seeing something not before his eyes, but within his understanding.

    “The other force does the opposite—it pushes outward, creates space, makes room for new stars, new planets, new possibilities—none of it could exist without expansion. So while one anchors the present, the other prepares the future. And though they are opposites, they don’t fight. They don’t cancel each other out.”

    He extended both arms in front of him, palms facing upward, as though weighing the unseen. Sёar?h the N?velFire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    “They balance each other. Perfectly. A cosmic dance of opposition and harmony. Dark matter protects the now. Dark energy protects the yet-to-come. Opposing. Complementary. Intertwined. Balanced.”

    He finally raised his eyes to meet the empty space where the old man had been.

    “Is that the answer you were hoping for, old ma—?!”

    Robin froze.

    His eyes widened.

    There was no one there.

    The blind man was gone. The cloth he had sat on—vanished. The walking stick—gone. The strange aura that had surrounded the place—dispersed.

    Only one thing remained.

    The ancient book.

    Resting silently on the ground. Ownerless. Waiting.