The Last Gentleman-Chapter 137: Depth

Chapter 137: Depth

【Swan Academy】

All the gentlemen present, including the students who had failed the test and were feeling dejected, raised their heads at this moment, looking up at the young man floating high in the air.

Yi Chen had risen to the height of the rooftop. If there were no roof to limit him, he might have flown out of the academy altogether.

The depth of his consciousness had surpassed normal levels, perfectly aligning with the mind space drawn forth by the headmaster, creating a mental scene indistinguishable from reality.

All senses were restored 100% within this mental space, making the test more intuitive, realistic, and effective.

Underneath the Weeping Mask, the headmaster’s gaze changed as well. It was rare to encounter a young student with such an interesting brain and such profound consciousness depth.

...

【Rainy Night Gallery】

“It’s so clear, so real... There’s hardly any difference from reality.

This is nothing like the hazy, uncontrollable, and disoriented feeling of passively detaching consciousness and entering the Old World. This feels as if it’s actually happening.

That being said...

The thought space, supported by the principal and constructed based on my weaknesses, turns out to be this dark?”

The sound of rain tapping against the windows, eerie shadows beyond the glass, and a collection of unsettling abstract paintings filled the room.

One painting, The Woman of Mesadra, depicted a woman with her head twisted at a 90-degree angle, standing incongruously among a bustling crowd, her blood-filled eye sockets staring beyond the frame.

Out of habit, Yi Chen attempted to open his suitcase to retrieve his hatchet and gun, only to find his hands empty.

Even his ability to control plants yielded no response.

His consciousness, upon entering this thought space, had been restricted by the principal to that of an ordinary human body.

However, when he pinched his arm hard, he did not feel pain—only an itch.

This indicated that what Teacher Zed had taught him remained unaffected. This transformation of the body was tied to the essence of the soul and could not be blocked.

“I’m not sure whether time here flows the same as in reality, but I should make the most of it.”

Since this was an art gallery, no matter how eerie or bizarre it seemed, Yi Chen immediately immersed himself in the role of a [spectator] attending an art exhibition, carefully observing each painting.

Before appreciating them in detail, he first surveyed the gallery as a whole.

The square-shaped gallery was formed by four hallways, with no visible entrance or exit.

Despite the identical length of each hallway, the uniform placement of windows, and the same carpet color, Yi Chen distinguished them using the titles of the paintings at the ends of each corridor, numbering them accordingly.

Hallways 1 to 3 contained an equal number of paintings.

However, hallway 4 had a missing painting in the middle, leaving a blank wall. Upon inspection, it appeared to be an ordinary wall, revealing nothing unusual for now.

This difference, in Yi Chen’s eyes, was likely the key to breaking through.

Next, he began appreciating the paintings one by one.

Unlike his usual precise memory of scene details, he did not try to memorize the artworks' visual details exactly.

Art, after all, could not be perfectly recalled or replicated through memory alone.

Instead, he focused on understanding, interpreting, and appreciating the essence of each painting by associating them with their titles.

When he stopped in front of the fourth painting— The Orange Abandoned Infant—a flash of lightning illuminated the outside, followed by the sharp sound of shattering glass.

The sudden disturbance forced Yi Chen to turn his head.

The square-shaped window in the center of the gallery, rattled by the thunderclap, now had an exaggerated crack running through it.

‘An interfering factor?’

Yi Chen’s expression remained unchanged as he prepared to continue studying the paintings.

However, when his gaze returned to The Orange Abandoned Infant, the baby that had originally been beneath the orange tree had vanished, leaving only a scattered swaddle behind.

The change in the painting instantly put Yi Chen on high alert.

WaWa!

A baby’s cry echoed from the far end of the corridor, and all nearby candle flames flickered out.

Slowly…

A yellow infant, with its skin replaced by orange peel, crawled out of the darkness.

Its fully torn mouth revealed insect-like venomous fangs, and its abdomen had strong, grasshopper-like appendages.

The moment it appeared, it launched itself toward Yi Chen, its fangs locked onto his carotid artery.

“This is...”

Yi Chen, relying on his combat experience, swiftly sidestepped.

Completely dodging the attack, he bent his body like a drawn bow.

His hands clenched into hammers—

And he brought them crashing down!

A direct hit on the airborne orange-skinned infant, smashing it forcefully into the ground.

Without giving the creature any chance to recover, he stomped down hard.

Pa!

Ignoring the sticky liquid on his shoe, he moved on to the next painting.

At the same time, he allocated a portion of his mind to quickly analyzing what had just happened.

‘I didn’t expect the headmaster’s [mental test] to actually contain danger. If I die here, the test might immediately result in failure.

Regarding the materialization of paintings, two possible reasons can be inferred based on the earlier situation:

1. The lightning flashing outside the window.

2. My subjective appreciation of the paintings.

If both conditions are met simultaneously, it seems to lead to the materialization of the artwork... Next time lightning strikes, I should try not to look away—perhaps that will prevent this from happening.

Moreover, I need to move faster.

The gallery is unstable. If the cracked windows shatter completely, the shadowy figures crawling outside will all flood in, and the experiment will likely fail.’

As he pondered, Yi Chen’s brain once again emitted white steam. With his heightened focus, he gradually accelerated his pace of art appreciation.

The interval between each lightning strike was almost the same.

When Yi Chen reached the ninth painting—"Phantom Maze"—a flash of lightning illuminated the room, accompanied by the crisp sound of glass cracking. A larger fissure appeared on the window.

But this time, Yi Chen did not turn away. He stared intently at the painting before him.

The humanoid creature within the maze, with a sunflower-like head, remained inside the artwork—it did not emerge to cause trouble.

"Nice! As long as I keep my gaze fixed and my subjective awareness unwavering, the things inside the paintings can't come out... So, this really is a purely mental space, where subjective consciousness plays a major role. How interesting."

With this conclusion, Yi Chen no longer allowed himself any distractions. He blocked out all interference and fully immersed himself in appreciating the paintings.

As he finished analyzing Galleries 1, 2, and 3, he finally arrived at the slightly different Gallery 4.

In the middle of the corridor, directly facing the window, a blank spot was left where a painting should have been.

Crack! A bolt of lightning flashed.

The violent thunder shook the cracked window, shattering a small portion of the glass. Rainwater eagerly poured in, flooding the gallery floor.

Yet Yi Chen remained unfazed, ignoring the water seeping past his shoes. He continued his final analysis as quickly as possible.

When his gaze shifted away from the last painting, fragments of all the artworks he had comprehended flashed rapidly through his mind. These fragments wove together, interlocking and merging into something entirely new.

Yi Chen stepped toward the center of Gallery 4.

He fixed his gaze on the blank white wall, attempting to imprint the vision forming in his mind onto the empty space, waiting for the right moment.

Crack!

At the exact instant of a lightning flash, Yi Chen blinked.

A painting had appeared on the previously empty wall...

It was the very piece that had taken shape in his consciousness—a fusion of all the analyzed paintings.

It was titled "The Gate."

Within the frame was a newly painted iron door—an exit leading to the outside world.

At that moment—

CRASH!bThe window behind him shattered completely.

As shards of glass flew past Yi Chen, countless shadowy hands lunged toward him.

But as he took a step forward, every grasping hand missed its target.

Unaffected, Yi Chen continued gazing at the painting, approaching it with absolute calm.

When he was less than ten centimeters away, a strange sense of familiarity struck him.

Perhaps it was his deep concentration on the iron door within the painting, or maybe his total immersion in artistic appreciation had drawn him into a deeper level of consciousness—one even surpassing the threshold set by the headmaster.

Suddenly, bizarre signals surged through his mind.

These signals directly influenced the mental space around him, like strands of black thread creeping toward "The Gate."

The iron door in the painting became increasingly real, its surface now bearing rusted scars and a metal plate covered in claw marks.

<107>

Yi Chen, unable to resist, instinctively raised his hand to touch it.

The moment his fingers brushed against the cold iron door—

Creak... The sound of rusty hinges echoed through his mind.

The gallery, the rain, and the shadowy figures all vanished in an instant.

But he did not return to Swan Academy.

Instead, he had fallen into a deeper layer of consciousness—a self-contained space born from his own mind.

It was more real than ever, untouched by the outside world.

Yi Chen’s eyes widened in shock.

He had never felt so panicked, so terrified.

"How could this happen... Why am I here!?"

His escalating emotions caused thin black threads to spread across his pupils, eventually dyeing his eyes entirely black.