Pandora’s gaze shifted from the solitary black marble desk to the endless corridors of bookshelves radiating out in six directions. Her brow furrowed slightly as a thought rapidly took shape in her mind.

“No,” she said softly, her voice ringing with unusual clarity. “It shouldn’t be the only one, right?”

“Places like this, in Laplace’s Demon Library, there should be countless others?”

Pandora turned to look at Amanda beside her, her tone serious and calm. “Theoretically, if we just walk down any of these directions for long enough, we’d eventually find... a desk just like this one?”

The smile on Amanda’s face brightened. “Exactly.” She didn’t hold back her praise. “So, we don’t need a specific map or complex directions. You just keep walking until you find one.”

Pandora nodded. Almost instinctively, thoughts flashed through her mind: What’s the optimal pathfinding strategy if I come here again? How to locate a desk in the shortest time possible? How to exploit the spatial properties of this place?

Immediately after, her gaze returned to the marble desk. The two walked up to it.

This time, Amanda took the initiative, gesturing for her to step forward and pointing to the single high-backed chair behind the desk. “Please, my little Apprentice.”

Pandora did as instructed, sitting down on the chair, which seemed to be carved from the same black stone. The touch was cold and hard.

Compared to the grand, apocalyptic chaos of the “instant before annihilation” that defined the rest of the library, the surface of this desk was obsessively clean. The mirror-like black marble reflected the frozen, shattered vaulted ceiling above, as well as the dark-gold twilight bleeding from the cracks.

On the desk sat a single book, sitting solitary in the exact center. It wasn’t very thick. The cover was worn black leather with slightly frayed edges. There was no title, no author, no decoration—just a simple, almost austere black rectangular outline.

“Think,” Amanda’s voice drifted from behind her, quiet and guiding. “What is it you want to know the most right now?”

Wizardry knowledge. The thought flashed through Pandora’s mind.

“Right now, open it.”

Without hesitation, Pandora’s free hand gently touched the black leather cover. The tactile feedback was real, carrying the fine texture unique to leather. It was completely different from those phantom books frozen in mid-air.

She flipped the cover open; it was light, but felt substantial. The pages turned, and this time, Pandora could clearly see the contents. The text was a simple, clear print. And the content it explained was exactly what she had been longing for—basic concepts of Wizardry, along with some of the most rudimentary principles.

Her eyes suddenly lit up. The knowledge she needed was right in front of her!

But Pandora’s thoughts didn’t stop there. Her mind was racing at a speed far beyond an ordinary person’s.

Laplace’s Demon Library had been destroyed. Yet, in reality, knowledge could still be obtained this way?

Even if she could only access the contents of one book at a time... for an existence tied to the concept of “infinity,” given enough time, this one “real” book could manifest any knowledge... wouldn’t that still equate to—infinity?!

Using this black book as a medium, theoretically, she could acquire any knowledge she wanted. Pandora, possessing mental force far exceeding those of the same Rank, instantly envisioned countless possibilities, her heart burning with excitement.

However, the very next moment. Before Amanda could even remind her, she cooled down on her own.

Not because she found a logical flaw. But because... the contents of the book she had just subconsciously read and understood revealed something was off.

Her attention snapped back, and Pandora quickly flipped through a few more pages. Her gaze returned to a state of calm.

The subsequent pages of the black book had thoroughly verified her suspicion. That “exploit the glitch” idea from a moment ago wasn’t going to work. It wasn’t that simple.

“Oh? You figured it out that fast?” Amanda looked at the subtle shifts in Pandora’s expression with an amused smile.

Pandora closed the black leather book and looked up at Amanda. She nodded, her voice calm. “Yeah, I think I get it. This is a book I’ve read before, isn’t it?”

“It only briefly introduces the basic concepts of Wizardry, without containing any actual, concrete spells. I still remember the disappointment I felt after seriously reading through those few pages back then.”

“But that’s not important,” Pandora paused, her gaze dropping back to the closed black book. “What matters is that this library can manifest the content I want in this ‘sole real, readable book’. However, this method has strict limitations.”

“It can only manifest the contents of books I’ve already read, right?”

Amanda nodded, her eyes holding unhidden praise. “Yes.”

“In this library, you can ‘see’ any book. Even a unique copy you alone possess and have never shown anyone, or an incredibly niche, long-lost text from another world. In a sense, it might truly be Laplace’s Demon Library.”

“Perhaps it was precisely this characteristic of infinitely recording everything that ultimately brought about its incomprehensible destruction.”

“But,” Amanda shifted her tone, “perhaps it isn’t.”

“In any case, right now, we can only use it to view books ‘we ourselves’ have already read. Well, strictly speaking, it’s viewing knowledge we ‘already know or have seen’ in the form of a ‘book’.”

“With that premise, it is no longer a theoretically omniscient and omnipotent divine artifact. It is reduced to a finite, mortal object strictly confined within the boundaries of individual cognition.”

“But perhaps, precisely because of this, it hasn’t vanished entirely, and has managed to persist in this state of ‘the instant before annihilation’.”

Pandora agreed. “Indeed. Obsessing over whether it’s the original Laplace’s Demon Library has no practical significance.”

“But...” She paused, frowning slightly. “If that’s the case, isn’t a library like this completely useless?”

“Under normal circumstances, absolutely,” Amanda admitted readily.

“But it also depends,” she pivoted again, a mysterious smile blooming on her face, “on who owns it!”