It has always been a deeply held belief that intelligence is a gift born with the person; an uncrossable line—you are either born with sharp perception, or you spend your life among the ordinary. The intelligent were a rare currency, pointed out as if they belonged to another planet.
It never occurred to anyone that this dividing wall could crumble. That intelligence could be something acquired, not over decades of study, but in a much shorter timeframe
Kai, a geological research student, was immersed in his graduation project on ancient rock formations deep within the "Areen" forest. Sunlight barely managed to filter through the dense treetops as he dug near an ancient rocky mound. Suddenly, the earth disappeared beneath his feet, and he tumbled into a deep pit covered with branches.
"Damn it! An old hunting trap!" Kai muttered, painfully getting up and wiping the dirt from his jacket
At the bottom of the pit, there was not just mud and stones, but a small, wooden box, ancient, covered in moss, as if untouched for centuries. Kai opened it with difficulty to find one thing inside: an old book. Its cover leather was worn and yellowed, giving off the scent of earth and oblivion.
Kai carried the book, and after climbing out of the trap, he cautiously examined its pages. The surprise was shocking: the writing was neither Latin nor Greek nor any modern language. It was strange symbols and complex carvings, a script that seemed to emerge from prehistory.
"Oh my God... this could be... ancient Samaritan writing?" Kai whispered in disbelief.
Kai returned to his small cabin, setting aside his rock samples. He opened the internet and began an arduous journey searching for the meanings of the Samaritan symbols. It took days of matching and guessing, but eventually, the book's content began to appear before him with terrifying clarity.
The book's subject matter revolved around one topic: Intelligence. How is Intelligence manufactured?
It was not a philosophical narrative, but a set of rules and instructions arranged in a sequential form. The fundamental rules for "manufacturing the supreme mind."
Kai felt a chill run down his spine. "Pure nonsense. Just useless ancient delusions," he thought scornfully. Yet, what was notable was the nature of the book itself; its historical antiquity was undeniable. Driven by a fierce curiosity, he decided to experiment.
He opened the first page. It was all about the Rules of Observation:
> Rule One: Small parts are more important than large parts.
> Focus Sequence: Place, then Number, then Color, then Element.
> True observation is that which anticipates the event.
>
The instructions filled the first page, all related to the method of observing the universe, and how the mind should dismantle the scene into analyzable units.
Kai turned the page and immediately began applying the first rule: he no longer saw the room as a room, but as a collection of angles, a number of objects, and an arrangement of colors.
The second page was dedicated to the Senses:
> Taste equals Touch. (Understanding textures is the origin of perception).
> Sound then Sight. (The ear reveals what light conceals).
> Scent is strange to all senses. (The invisible gateway to memories).
>
Then came the third, fourth, and fifth pages, which were the most mysterious, dealing with the Sense of Instinct and how to develop it into true "Insight."
Kai couldn't stop. He completely neglected his graduation project. His geological mission turned into a strange personal journey. He immersed himself in the book's pages, memorized every instruction in his head, and dedicated himself to the strict application of the rules.
This continued for two months, during which he noticed no significant change.
In the ninth month, after months of obsessive practice, Kai suddenly felt that the instructions had penetrated deep into his mind, as if they had become part of his cognitive DNA.
As he entered the tenth month, his perspective on life began to change.
He no longer saw life as a flowing stream, but as a slow-motion video. The movement of life was slower; he could track the path of a grain of sand falling to the ground. He began to see directions in a single field of vision differently, a completely strange world. Sounds were no longer overlapping noise but analyzable sound waves.
And as soon as he went out to meet people, the biggest surprise struck. He began to see their body language with astounding clarity; he could recognize their emotions with a precision surpassing any psychological test. The slight tremor in the index finger, the distance between the feet, the angle of the head tilt – all became readable words.
Kai found himself isolated behind the barrier of the book's instructions. The information he was unaccustomed to in his environment was constantly increasing with every movement he made. He no longer saw the world as an ordinary human, but as a super-analyzing machine.
After ten months of acquisition, Kai felt his mind had reached the point of no return.
He stood before a wood stove, holding the mysterious Samaritan book. He no longer needed it; the rules were forever etched in his mind. Slowly, he opened the book and tossed it into the roaring flames.
"That's enough," Kai said to himself, his eyes fixed on the flame consuming the old cover. "It's time to turn a new page in life. Return to the old routine."
But the only question echoing in the depths of his mind was: Can a person who has seen the universe with absolute clarity truly return to ordinary blindness?