High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 339 - 8 The Deep Rooted Causes of Headaches_1

Chapter 339: Chapter 8 The Deep Rooted Causes of Headaches_1"Sit, sit down, make yourself comfortable."

"Just like in a classroom..."

"You know, I’ve always disliked that sort of pedantry."

Old Yao sat behind his large mahogany desk, organizing the files at hand. He looked up at the young, nervous wizard, tilting his chin slightly. "The medical report from the school’s hospital is quite interesting, I suppose we will be studying it for a while... sit."

A leather chair, unable to contain its frustration at being ignored, abruptly darted from behind, bumping into Zheng Qing’s knee.

The young scholarship student’s knees went weak, and he sat down abruptly.

"Haha...don’t mind, the furniture in this room is quite mischievous." Old Yao took a pair of gold-framed round spectacles out of the drawer, put them on his nose, and chuckled.

Zheng Qing tightly gripped the armrests of the leather chair and awkwardly tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Mischievous my ass!

Damn furniture!

Needs to be put in its place!

In Dorm 403, such a chair would be used as firewood!

While he mentally ranted, he maintained an innocuous expression on his face: "What does the hospital report say?"

Old Yao didn’t speak.

The corners of his mouth were tugged down, revealing a stern expression.

He flipped through several pages of thin documents, as if

"Thought Field..."

OId Yao furrowed his brow, mused over the term, took off his golden-framed glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, then put them back on. After weighing his words carefully, he slowly said:

"The Thought Field involves knowledge of high-level magic, so in principle, I shouldn’t reveal this to you now."

"However... considering certain special reasons,"

He paused, glanced at Zheng Qing, and then vaguely said: "I can offer you a simple explanation."

The young scholarship student blinked, before he had a chance to contemplate Yao’s slightly profound statement, he was captivated by the explanation that followed.

"The thought field, you can understand it as a form of psychic power being discharged."

"According to the Davidson-Thompson theory, the external manifestations of spiritual power have three attributes: it is a high-frequency wave, it is a thought particle and it also has a Virtual Dimension Interferential Force."

"The thought field is a specific manifestation of the particle nature of mental power."

"An active thought field means active mental power."

"You mentioned before that when you had a headache, you had many dreams ... or what you called nightmares, right."

Zheng Qing nodded again and again, swallowing quietly.

He evasively averted his eyes, looking down at the stack of reports on the desk, for fear of being found by the professor that he almost didn’t understand the specific meaning of the above explanation.

"That’s right!" The professor looked enlightened, his tone becoming increasingly affirmative: "Your headache is caused by the uneven expansion and contraction of the thought field."

"The expansion of the field causes mental power to become extremely excited or violently fluctuating."

"The contraction of the field, on the other hand, can lead to mental lassitude, sleepiness, emotional sensitivity and so on."

"According to the Davidson Berg focus principle, the thought field always operates between expansion and contraction. Under a healthy mental condition, this movement would exhibit a kind of regularity, keeping a magician’s mood within a healthy cycle."

"But your thought field shows a certain degree of chaos."

"Irregular expansion and contraction will keep your mind under extreme pressure at all times... manifesting in nightmares, headaches, and so on."

"So, adjusting this...thought field can suppress headaches?" Zheng Qing interrupted the professor’s lecturing hastily, asking anxiously.

"Stop?" Old Yao looked surprised: "Why stop it?"

"Because of the headache!" Zheng Qing felt a bit baffled: "Isn’t that the purpose of my seeing a doctor?"

"Who would interfere the operation of the thought field because of a headache!" Professor Yao seemed amused, pointed at Zheng Qing, and laughed after a while: "Would you starve because there’s a chance of choking while eating?"

What nonsensical logic! Zheng Qing roared in his heart.

"...But I might not be able to eat because of a headache." He glanced at the professor cautiously and muttered in a low voice.

"Young people nowadays lack hardship." The professor shook his head with a look of displeasure: "A normal person’s thought field will display periodic and regular fluctuations... From another perspective, irregular, non-periodic fluctuations indicate a special thought field... Even among wizards, this kind of special thought field is very rare."

"This implies that you may have some kind of special gift."

As he spoke, he took that dark pipe out of his pocket, bit down on it again, lifted his eyelids, and sent a probing look from above his glasses.

"So having a headache and nightmares is also a talent." Zheng Qing felt a little ironic: "Can I apply to eliminate this talent ..."

"Headaches are not a talent, they are side effects." Old Yao seemed to not understand Zheng Qing’s sarcasm, but earnestly replied: "As for nightmares, maybe they are talent, maybe they are side effects... That needs to be specifically confirmed."

"Check?" Zheng Qing seemed a bit spirited: "How to check? Are we going back to the campus hospital’s Clean House?"

"No, no, no," the professor waved his hand and said leisurely: "It’s just a small experiment, it can be done in my office."

As he spoke, he rummaged through his drawer and pulled out a small black medicine bottle, pouring a white round tablet from it.

"Swallow it." He then snapped his fingers.

A blue elf flew down carrying a stemmed glass, landing it lightly in front of Zheng Qing.

In the glass was a translucent liquid, and under the light from above, a faint cyan halo could be seen shimmering inside.

"Is this a potential stimulation pill?" Zheng Qing put the pill in his mouth, picked up the cup, took a big gulp, then immediately stuck out his tongue and exclaimed, "So sour!"

"What nonsense..." The professor had a look of helplessness on his face: "It’s just a sleeping pill... Grasp your medium tightly and repeat this incantation before you fall asleep."

Zheng Qing gave an awkward smile and took out the medium he used for divination from his pocket.

A copper coin.

Then he looked at the piece of paper handed to him by the professor and tried to repeat the incantation several times.

"Is the sleep medicine for wizards all sour?" Before falling asleep, he finally couldn’t hold it in, raised his head and murmured, "I want to drink some water... That pill just now was too sour."

The professor sighed deeply.

"The sleeping pills for wizards aren’t sour." He looked at the state-funded student in front of him as if looking at an idiot, his tone full of helplessness: "You just drank lemonade!"

Zheng Qing immediately hiccuped.

Then he closed his mouth, squinted his eyes, and muttered the incantation one more time.

And then he fell asleep soundly.