Psychic Parasite

Chapter 97: Making a Mess

Jyorta walked along the hallway, gazing at the back of Laila climbing the stairs, his expression unchanged. He retracted his gaze, noticing the hallway silent, showcasing zero traces of human activity. As he wondered the reason for it, he arrived before his room.

Jyorta fished out the key from his pocket, inserted it into the keyhole, and opened it. Theoretically, as long as he had finished nurturing a psychic arm, he could directly seep it through the keyhole and comprehend the unlocking pattern, opening the door without the use of a key.

The door closed upon his entry, revealing the tidied room, giving him the feeling of warmth, the marks made in it belonging to him. He hung the key in its designated socket and took a couple of steps forward, his expression similar to a rock.

The blue soul in him hesitated for a second before forming numerous soul tendrils, re-establishing all the connections with his emotions. Immediately, his body experienced a multitude of chemical and hormonal reactions, the broiling emotions hitting him in an instant.

His knees gave out under him, plopping on the floor, producing a loud thud. He placed his palms on the floor, trying his best to exert force in his arms to anchor his body. His entire being shivered, his face scrunched up, the feeling of fear overwhelming him, surpassing beyond the limits of despair.

His stomach churned, the bubbling acid rising up, travelling through his food pipe. It carried with it the food he had consumed just now, partly digested, the oxidation reaction having just begun.

"Goff," Jyorta vomited, puking out all the contents he had consumed, feeling his throat sting due to the volume that had gushed out in an instant. His urinary sphincter gave out, no longer able to function in its optimal state, soiling his pants.

Jyorta made a mess of himself, painting the floor with a plethora of food items in their undigested state, not to mention his soaked pants. He coughed, feeling a constricting pain in his lungs. Tears streamed out of his eyes, making him feel weak.

'I shouldn't have checked her soul through the vision of my blue soul.' Two hours later, Jyorta slowly picked himself up, lamenting at his stupid behaviour. After the blue soul in him severed the connections with his fear, despite the emotion present in him, he couldn't feel it.

Hence, he took on a daring approach, trying to get an inkling to her soul, something he wouldn't have dared otherwise, based on his cautious nature. Immediately, his blue soul experienced the feeling of fear stemming from gazing at an apex existence, one similar to its own, its limits unimaginable.

Just a single action from the blue wall could have crushed his blue soul, leaving behind no traces. After all, the other party was someone well versed in the domain of the soul, having lived at the peak for more than a century, having significant power and resources at her disposal.

'My priority should be to recreate a false persona. After all, as long as I am here, there are many occasions for us to meet. Severing my emotions are just a stopgap measure, once I re-establish the connection, the emotions I had been experiencing for the entire duration will hit me in an instant, overwhelming me like just now.'

Seated on the floor, separated from the decoration by a hair's width, Jyorta sighed. His body felt exhausted, his nerves similar to one who had been in a battlefield for months at a stretch, with danger and death lurking at every corner.

Disregarding the stench, Jyorta sat in his spot, his body unable to cooperate with his commands. He then let out a self-deprecating laugh, "Just because I have a couple of advantages doesn't mean I became the protagonist of this era. Moreover, I am not even unique; there has been a precedent."

An hour later, Jyorta got up and stripped his soiled clothes. He piled them in a corner, wore old shorts, and picked up a rag he had saved in his shoulder bag. It was a habit cultivated from his previous life, carrying old clothes and newspapers with him wherever he went.

It was for contingency measures in situations such as this. Jyorta tore a rectangular piece from it and tied it around his face, covering his nose and mouth. A second later, he removed it and folded it once, tying the remainder around his face once againthe stench was unbearable.

He tore off another piece of the cloth, intending to use it to wipe the floor. Thankfully, he had a couple of boxes saved up, intended for stationery and other miscellaneous items. He emptied one of them, seemingly large enough to cover the total volume of decorations.

He took in a deep breath and was about to start cleaning when a mystical feeling enveloped him, forming a mysterious change within him. It created something intangible in his body, one that could raise the efficiency of his body's functions and the Nurturing effect of his Wisdom Parasite.

Just when he was relishing in the experience, another change occurred within him, originating from his Brain Crystal. It felt like he had grown an arm, sealed within his brain, one that he could move out any time he wished.

"My psychic arm has been successfully nurtured," Jyorta sighed, closing his eyes, concentrating on his Brain crystal. He emitted a gentle flux of psychic energy, converging them into a psychic arm. The psychic arm was shaped like an ethereal arm of a jellyfish.

It was no different from a tentacle, moving around him based on his inputs. Though, its movements were rigid, moving in linear patterns, unlike the flexibility exhibited by tentacles. Jyorta sat on the floor, occupying a clean spot. He placed the stationery box before him and sent his psychic arm flying towards the 'decorations' on the floor.

As it passed through them, Jyorta didn't feel any sort of resistance, partially due to them having emerged from his body, soaked with his bile. He could currently extend his psychic arm for about two feet, its weight limit yet to be experimented.

The more his brain was nurtured, the stronger his psychic arm would become, eventually reaching the limit of Tier 1 based on his Sync Rate. The psychic arm held some large blotches, lifted them, and floated towards the stationery box. It then released its hold, producing a muffled thud as the contents splashed into the stationery box.

Forward, hold, upward, backward, and release; the psychic arm executed linear actions one after the other, similar to a robotic arm in its initial stages of development.

"I'll count this as training; it is definitely not due to disgustdefinitely." Jyorta continued to use his psychic arm, keeping a note of the energy expenditure. A minute later, he cursed aloud, feeling the energy in his Brain Crystal fully expended. He hadn't even finished cleaning one-tenth of the mess.

Grunting in annoyance, he set out to manually scrub the area, scooping the vomit into the stationery box. Finally finished with it after more than 20 minutes had passed, he switched on the fan.

He opened the windows, intending for the smell to escape from it.

A moment later, he noticed the smell circulating in his room, thanks to the actions of the fan. Moreover, there was no wind outside, making the rate of seepage into the open minimal. Jyorta wanted to rage quit, feeling vexed; he controlled his actions, heaving out another sigh.

He then covered his upper half with a used shirt and gently opened the door, peaking out into the hallway, looking for the traces of other students. He once again noticed the empty hallway, thanking the heavens as he carried the stationery box and bolted towards the restroom.

Five minutes later, he returned to his room, carrying water in the stationery box, soaked in it was the cloth he used to wipe the floor, fully rinsed. He then began to mop the floor with it, scrubbing everything he couldn't remove in the first try. Once he was done, he sprinted off towards the restroom and returned to his room after five minutes.

He repeated the actions more than 10 times, finally looking at the sparkling clean floor in his room, the smell having mostly been ventilated. He then noticed his soiled clothes piled in one corner. He grunted in exhaustion and picked it up, once again dashing towards the restroom after checking for the presence of people in the hallway.

Twenty minutes later, he returned to his room and haphazardly dropped the washed clothes over the backrest of his chair, allowing them to dry in such a manner. He spread it open, covering the surface of the backrest, taking a glance at the speed of the fan.

He picked his basket and placed a change of clothes, his soap, toothpaste, and toothbrush. He then locked the door and walked to the restroom. He brushed his teeth and took a long bath, returning to his room after 30 minutes.

"I had made such a large mess after talking to Laila for less than 15 minutes. Without a false persona to handle her, I'll be damned." Jyorta sat on his bed, feeling his body relax. The hard bed currently felt like the softest cushion in the world. His previous state was akin to dancing on a bed of nails, one that had been heated to become blinding red.

He closed his eyes, about to sever some connections using his blue soul to instantly fall asleep when a change occurred in it, surprising him. He sprang awake in fear, unable to sense the cause for the changes.