Theoretically, this world could never contain completely unknown, yet logically coherent real knowledge!

Unless... this fictitious world is not false at all!

He quickly bowed his head, using the glow of the desk’s surface to hide his exposure of emotions, yet his heart was pounding intensely in his chest.

He swiftly recorded these unfamiliar pieces of knowledge on the screen in front of him, forcing himself to calm down.

"It’s not confirmed yet... I must verify the truth of these pieces of knowledge right after class!"

Thinking this through, Jeming focused his attention and began listening carefully to the lecture, occasionally jotting down notes on the screen.

Once absorbed in the exploration of unknown knowledge, time seemed to speed up in its flow.

The morning classes ended quickly.

The schedule showed that there were two hours of free time next.

Jeming didn’t leave the classroom immediately but eagerly pulled up the content he had just recorded.

Using the computing module and logical deduction function on the screen, he began verifying those unfamiliar formulas and theories.

As the verification deepened, his expression grew increasingly grave.

The results, clear and unmistakable, showed that this knowledge was real, effective, and logically sound!

Definitely not the kind of randomly fabricated false information he initially expected.

A massive sense of shock swept over him once more.

Illusion techniques or mental control cannot create true notions unknown to the subject from nothing.

So how does this "false" world accomplish this?

Is it the knowledge possessed by the one in control behind the scenes?

Or is the world he faces now itself... not false?

The issues with this world are far more complex than he imagined, and more... dangerous.

He was contemplating whether to return to that "home" to seek clues, or to continue checking materials in the school’s library when Amy’s crisp voice called from outside the classroom door: "Jeming! Come on, let’s eat!"

Jeming gathered his thoughts, responded with a word, and joined up with Amy and Victor outside the door.

The three naturally walked toward the school cafeteria.

Holding a tray with a variety of dishes, Jeming sat down and mentioned casually: "Our major doesn’t have many people, the classroom feels quite empty. How about yours?"

Amy tilted her head and thought: "Not many? Surely there are plenty by now, more than our biotechnology major, but my major is pretty popular, too. There are... nine people in my class! Victor, how about you?"

Victor adjusted his glasses and answered calmly: "Information Engineering, it’s become a popular major this year, nine people as well...though not as much as your Physics major."

Jeming pondered internally that both Amy’s and Victor’s classes had extremely few students, each with no more than ten!

Using the motion of eating, Jeming concealed his tightly furrowed brow.

The student numbers are exceedingly rare throughout the entire school?

This is severely conflicting with the "huge population" macro setting of the plane in his "memory."

This seems like a massive flaw...

Yet, Jeming doesn’t dare take it lightly.

In a plane so bizarre it could quietly trap nearly two hundred thousand elite wizards, anything that appears unreasonable might harbor deeper logic behind it.

Perhaps the sparse number of students is not a design flaw but some rule he has yet to understand.

Just as the three finished lunch and were about to leave the cafeteria, a conspicuous commotion erupted at the entrance on the far side.

Amy’s strong curiosity immediately made her hold the two back, standing tiptoe to look.

Jeming initially planned to avoid trouble and bypass the commotion, but it seemed guided by an invisible hand toward their direction rapidly.

The crowd automatically formed a path, as several young people in attire different from student uniforms, with stern expressions and nimble movements led by a tall, sullen-looking man, walked straight towards them.

A bad feeling welled up in his heart. Jeming instinctively wanted to back up and meld into the crowd.

But it was already too late.

The tall leader’s eyes scanned like a hawk, finally locking firmly onto Jeming with an angry and undeniable shout echoing in the somewhat empty cafeteria:

"Are you saying you’re Jeming?!"

In an instant, all the gazes in the cafeteria, including Amy’s and Victor’s questioning ones, focused on Jeming.

Jeming’s body stiffened, freezing in his steps.

He could feel the few accompanying young people subtly forming an encirclement, blocking all possible retreats.

Unforeseen trouble appeared abruptly.