Over the next three days.

Jiang Yuan had to serve his punishment, so going out was out of the question. The thought that he could suddenly collapse at any moment, his thoughts cut off and his mind left blank, was honestly pretty terrifying.

It wasn’t until the afternoon of the third day.

Sitting in front of the computer, Jiang Yuan came to again after another bout of Neural Punishment. He immediately stretched and let out a long breath.

“That’s the ninth time!”

“Punishment’s over!”

Jiang Yuan threw his arms up and cheered. The nerves throughout his body were still sending pain signals, but the joy of being free of the punishment was more than enough to drown out the pain.

“You done?”

Yi Nanye was lying on Jiang Yuan’s bed, playing on her phone. When she saw him return to normal, she asked him a moment later.

“Yeah. How long was I out this time?”

“A little over ten minutes. Why do you ask?”

Yi Nanye was curious. Jiang Yuan had kept a record of when each of the nine bouts of Neural Punishment happened and what happened during them. He even asked her where she’d been each time.

“It can’t hurt to know. I’m worried I’ll suddenly collapse again one day, so knowing roughly how long it takes to recover will help me prepare. By the way, does this thing never need to be replaced or charged?”

Jiang Yuan ran a hand over the collar around his neck. The material felt strange, too—lightweight, yet incredibly hard.

The Superpower Management Bureau’s monitoring devices really were high-tech—genuine technology from the future. The fact that they didn’t need charging alone was enough to impress Jiang Yuan.

“I heard it runs directly on the wearer’s bioenergy, like body heat and static electricity from the skin. Apparently, even the kinetic energy you generate when you move counts. And the thing around your neck is a prototype, to boot.”

Yi Nanye explained just how advanced the monitoring device Jiang Yuan was wearing was. He listened, completely dumbfounded.

“A prototype?”

“I heard the people from the future only brought back a dozen or so. One was enough for research and reverse engineering. The extras were either given to other countries for joint research, or they just slapped them around the necks of heinous criminals like you. This one was made by Andrei Ivanov himself, in the future.”

“They say that even if you were at the center of a nuclear blast and your whole body was reduced to ashes, this thing would still be fine. So, in theory, there’s no way to take it off by force. Now you see why the higher-ups are so at ease?”

After Yi Nanye finished speaking, Jiang Yuan fell into thought again.

“Surely they didn’t develop this thing specifically to send back to the past, did they?”

“Hmm…?”

Yi Nanye suddenly seemed to realize something. She jerked her head up and looked at Jiang Yuan. The device had been around his neck ever since they’d met, but they’d only just realized what it implied.

“Every mature technology takes time to refine. Espers’ safety devices are wristbands, so this collar is clearly a restraint—a device used in the future specifically to contain Esper criminals.”

“But they’re criminals. In theory, you could just lock them up. If you let them out, you’d still have to allow them some freedom while making sure they couldn’t escape the device’s control. So rather than a prison restraint, it’s actually more like the shackles and chains used on slaves.”

Jiang Yuan hadn’t known before that this thing could punish its wearer remotely, make them lose the ability to resist, and even disable their powers. It was only after experiencing it firsthand over the past few days that he’d started to form these suspicions.

“You think this thing might be something the future uses to enslave Espers?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a hundred percent sure, but I’d put the odds at seventy percent, at least.”

“Tsk…”

Yi Nanye fell silent. Slavery was a savage relic left over from the old civilization. If people in the future really did use these things on a massive scale to enslave Espers, then maybe Codename Jiang couldn’t be blamed for leading a rebellion.

Given the class prejudice between ordinary people and Espers today, it was easy to imagine ordinary people in power developing something like this to protect themselves, putting one on every Esper to keep them safe.

And if the slaves were weak and frail, that would be one thing. Even after being freed, they wouldn’t be much of a threat. But if ordinary people enslaved Espers, every single one of them would be seething with rage. The moment they were freed, wouldn’t they turn the whole world upside down?

“Oh, no. You’ve brainwashed me. For a split second, I actually thought Codename Jiang might be in the right!”

Yi Nanye suddenly realized Jiang Yuan had led her astray. The problem was, it wasn’t impossible. This restraint had so many functions…

No, not a restraint. A monitoring device. It was right there in front of them!

“Also, we should pay attention to what the person from the future said. Compared with the threat from the mythical creatures that appeared after the calamity, it seems like he considered Codename Jiang the greater threat. What if he wasn’t trying to reverse humanity’s decline at all? Maybe humanity as a whole is actually doing fine.”

“What if what he really wants to change is a future where Codename Jiang is about to win?”

Jiang Yuan calmly analyzed what they could infer from the collar. Yi Nanye was practically getting goosebumps—not because Jiang Yuan was spouting nonsense about dangerous topics, but because his theories were all disturbingly well-reasoned.

The whole thing had left her completely reeling.

“D-don’t… don’t say any more…”

“Give me a minute to process this!”

Yi Nanye covered her forehead with one hand. It felt like her entire worldview was bouncing wildly up and down.

This was unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable!

She couldn’t find a single flaw in Jiang Yuan’s reasoning, and it was driving her crazy.

“Hey, I’m only putting forward a theory. Don’t take it seriously. Whatever Codename Jiang himself is after, his supporters are a bunch of hopeless lunatics. That’s all we need to know.”

Even if the future really was as Jiang Yuan had guessed, couldn’t they start changing things now? First, they had to get the relationship between the public and the Espers right.

As it happened, the Zheng Chengjie Incident was the first spark to set off a breakdown in that relationship. Fortunately, Jiang Yuan had stamped it out in time.

“Fine… But you owe me compensation for emotional distress. If I go crazy someday, it’ll be mostly your fault!”

That was just how people were. Once they encountered another possibility that seemed close to the truth, they couldn’t help thinking, guessing, and trying to prove it. They wanted to understand what was really going on—and the smarter they were, the more easily they were affected.

“See? We’ll figure all this out sooner or later. Instead of worrying about so much, just do what you believe is right now.”

“I think I need a psychological evaluation before that. You know you sound like the leader of a cult, right? If the Superpower Management Bureau hadn’t pulled that stunt on me earlier, I could’ve reported you for this, and you’d be dead!”

“We’re just chatting. It’s nothing—just idle talk.”

Jiang Yuan smiled, then turned back to the computer screen and resumed searching for information online. A few more Espers appeared every day, and each one brought new problems.

Those who gained powers suddenly became a small minority of the strong.

Most people both revered them and feared their powers.

Innocent, inexperienced boys and girls shared their joy at awakening powers on social media, proudly declaring that they’d help humanity in the future. Little did they know they were also drawing countless eyes.

In the current state of the world, every newly emerged Esper faced some degree of malice. One wrong step could send them plunging into the abyss. All they could do was hope the government reacted quickly enough.

After a moment’s hesitation, Jiang Yuan sent a private message to an online creator who had just revealed that they’d awakened a power.

【Delete the post. Don’t publish it. Don’t publish it. Don’t publish it!】

The modern internet had long since ceased to be anonymous.