CHAPTER 30: CH 30

[Name:- Dream Book and Pen

Type:- Mana

Rank:- Peak D rank (Artifact)

Discription:- When words are inscribed within this ancient journal using its specially attuned pen, they manifest as vivid and immersive dreams in the mind of the chosen target. These dreams are so realistic that they blur the line between illusion and reality, leaving the subject unable to distinguish one from the other.

For lower-ranked beings (F, E, and some D-rank), the effect is nearly flawless—making them believe the dream is their true experience. Higher-ranked beings may resist or sense something amiss, depending on their mental strength and spiritual defenses.

Price:- 10,000 SP (Consumable items can be brought again from shop)]

"Damn! This book only has three usable pages," I muttered, staring at the ancient-looking notebook in my hands. Its thick red cover felt rough, like dried leather that had survived centuries of dust and time. Strange markings ran along the edges, symbols I didn’t recognize but could feel humming faintly with energy.

The first page wasn’t blank—it held a perfectly drawn magic circle, lines so precise they looked carved rather than written. At the bottom, faint glowing text displayed the terms of use, written in an elegant but slightly ominous script.

I flipped past it and landed on the remaining pages—three plain, normal-looking sheets that seemed disappointingly ordinary compared to the first.

Yet, I knew they weren’t.

Each page had twenty-eight faint lines, as if ruled by a ghostly hand. And according to the instructions, only the words written between these lines would become reality—no more, no less. One line, one truth. Once a line was used, it would vanish forever, leaving behind a faint scorch mark as proof of its power being spent.

Three pages. Twenty-eight lines each. Eighty-four chances to bend reality.

And then... nothing.

I ran my fingers along the surface, half-expecting it to burn or tingle with magic. It didn’t. It felt like paper. Just... paper.

Yet I knew better.

This wasn’t a notebook. It was a goddamn miracle—and a dangerous one.

In my right hand was a pen—a deep crimson color, perfectly matching the notebook’s cover. Its design was ancient, almost ceremonial, with fine engravings running along its shaft. The metal felt cool to the touch, yet strangely warm at the tip, which was shaped like that of an old fountain pen. Despite its age, it gleamed faintly, as if polished by countless years of reverent handling.

I twirled it between my fingers, my mind racing. Something about holding this pen made the air around me feel heavier, like I was gripping not just an object—but a key to something dangerous.

And then, an idea struck me.

"System," I said, my voice sharper than I intended, "show me the simulation option!"

[Ding!!]

The familiar tone echoed in my head, followed by glowing text materializing in the air before me.

[Welcome to the Simulation System!]

[Here, you can run detailed simulations of potential future actions, choices, and outcomes!]

[Each simulation may vary in cost depending on its complexity and significance.]

A pause. Then the next prompt appeared.

[Would the Host like to run a simulation?]

[Yes / No]

...

*Knock* *Knock*

"Come in," I called out, quickly shoving the red pen and ancient notebook beneath the folds of my blanket. My heart thudded harder than it should, the lingering hum of magic from the book still prickling at my fingertips.

I had already decided what to write. After running multiple simulations, I’d refined the perfect script—each word chosen carefully, each line balanced between risk and reward. Half a page was already filled, the faint glow of activated magic seeping into the parchment, whispering promises of reality bending in my favor.

But before I could finish the rest...

The knock came.

The door creaked open.

And standing there was none other than Sara!!

"Why are you here?" I asked, a bit inqued and also angry. Why would I be, if not for system, this girl would have killed my dream of having a daughter harem.

"I-I am here to say s-sorry," Sara said, her voice trembling slightly as she stood in the doorway. Her gaze stayed fixed on the floor, not daring to meet mine. Her shoulders were tense, hands clutching the hem of her dress as though holding herself together.

The words came out haltingly, each one heavy. Even so, there was a faint edge of coldness in her tone, like pride refusing to fully bow to guilt.

It wasn’t until she took a slow, shaky breath that her voice softened, her composure cracking. Only then did I see the hint of vulnerability she was trying so hard to hide.

I knew why.

Sara wasn’t just apologizing because she felt bad. She was apologizing because she couldn’t afford not to.

Sara, like the other three maids in this place, was an orphan. But her situation was heavier—more complicated—because she wasn’t alone.

She had a younger brother. Thirteen years old.

His name was Eva—a boy with quiet eyes and a thin frame, someone who looked like the world had never given him enough to eat or enough reason to smile. Sara had practically raised him herself, sacrificing her own childhood to give him one.

Now, at seventeen, she worked here—not because she wanted to—but because she had to. The job paid well enough to keep Eva clothed, fed, and in a safe home. More than that, it allowed her to provide something better—a chance at education, a future where he wouldn’t have to struggle the way she did.

Losing this job wouldn’t just be a setback. It would shatter the fragile stability she had built.

Eva might not blame her. He’d probably even smile and tell her it was okay. But Sara would blame herself—and the weight of that guilt would leave a scar she’d carry forever.

So here she was now, standing before me, apologizing for the mistake she had made... even though, deep down, she knew it hadn’t been entirely her fault.

Yes, she had reacted harshly. Yes, she had spoken with more coldness than respect. But the truth? It had been my fault for looking at her the way I did—for letting my gaze wander where it shouldn’t.

And yet... none of that mattered.

Not here. Not in this world.

Because here, power decided everything and I have that.

"You are here to apologise, after what you have done. You can get out and pack up, I will have you fire till tomorrow." I said. Of course, I was just threatening here, there’s no way I will let go of a beautiful women like it.

"Pl-please no, I beg you!!" Sara said, a little panicking as her cold surface which she use to protect herself crumbled, little out the girl whose is fully panicked.

It can be seen from her voilet eyes how shaken her mind was as she immediately went on her knees practically begging.

"Please, I-I need this job." She said weakly.

"*Sigh*, Alright ’I’ forgive you" I said looking at her on the floor, my heart finally softened.

Or maybe not, I really need a worthy revenge for trying to destroy my dreams, and I already know what to do, hehehe.

"Re-really." She asked with hopeful eyes. "Yes, I forgive you." I said. "That’s a relief." She said, with a reassured voice, as if a heavy burden has been released from it.

"But he won’t forgive you easily, you kicked him so hard after all." I said, pointing at my semi erect dick.

"Wha-What?" She asked, confused and a bit bewildered, not expecting me to say this.

"Yup, so it will be better if you obediently apologize to him, or else, I might have to make a visit to your brother so that he can apologise on your behalf." I said, thinking of her brother, but immediately dismissed that boy’s image so as to not ruin this fun time.

All my focus was now in the girl in front of me, even though I wanna fuck her hard and make her beg for sex, I know I cannot do that, the world right now is till a civilised society, even though it’s only on face.

"N-No!! Please don’t!! Te-tell me what I have to do!!" Sara said hastily, she really doesn’t want her brother to get involved in this matter, he is too small and has a life in front of him, who know what this guy might do to him.

She isn’t some naive girl already know what a person like him could do to common people... All he need to do is hire a few people to beat a child and that’s all.

"Hmm, lets see how you can apologise." I said, looking at her from up and down. Her cute face, violet eyes, B cup boobs covered with her maid dress, thin naked waist, a maid apron and long white stockings... Wait, stocking.

"What goes around comes around, I guess." I said, thinking how this problem will end where it started... Not end though, atleast not in just one day. She need a long training session.