Chapter 147 Personal Side Quest: Its Fire is Dim

In the slightly gray sky, snowflakes were slowly drifting down, swirling in the air.

Standing in the warm indoor space, a formally dressed and neatly groomed man looked out at the scenery through the glass, his chestnut eyes following the trajectory of a snowflake.

His gaze was so focused, his attention fixed on the few snowflakes, that he didn't notice the person behind him.

He was a student, holding a book filled with sticky notes, whose demeanor and attire clearly indicated that he was a student.

Standing behind the man, the student cautiously began to speak:

"Trouble, Professor Nabokov?"

"Hmm? That's me." Startled by the voice, the man turned his head, shifting his gaze from the snowflakes to the student behind him holding a book. "Is there something you need?"

"Professor, my opinion on this article is..."

A soft "hmm" was Nabokov's favorite way to respond. This syllable is applicable in virtually any situation. Whether formal or casual, such a response, as a subconscious reaction to surprise, is at least not too impolite.

Most of the time, "um" is followed by "I am." This is because those who come to him and need to be called by name to confirm are usually people who have heard of him but have never met him in person. So, this kind of answer is unlikely to be wrong.

These are the useless and boring language techniques that a literature professor named Nabokov summarized from his daily life.

-

Vladimir Nabokov, a professor of literature at a top Russian university, is handsome and talented. He became a professor at a top university at a young age. His papers have made him well-known in academia, and he has also earned a considerable amount of savings through his lectures.

Nabokov's life seems to be a perfect life that most people envy and yearn for.

However, there was one thing in Nabokov's life that was completely out of place with "ordinary" – his unusual love for young girls.

It wasn't a simple impulse, but a more complex and indescribable emotion. Even with Nabokov's literary talent, he couldn't find any emotion other than "love" to describe this feeling.

He accurately and clearly defined his dream "lover".

But Nabokov never uttered any of this aloud. He clearly understood that it contradicted common sense and morality, and was unacceptable to most people.

If he were to speak out, he would definitely be ostracized.

Nabokov was just an ordinary person who needed a "normal life."

If everything had gone according to plan, Nabokov might have lived out his "perfect" life in this orderly fashion.

-

The beginning of all the changes was an ordinary noon.

When Nabokov, who had originally intended to pick up a heavy academic book, instead picked up a picture book, he keenly sensed something was wrong.

He was quite certain that an academic book had been placed here just before he sat down, and that Nabokov couldn't possibly be so oblivious as to not know that the book beside him had been switched.

Taken aback, Nabokov instinctively stood up, gripping the chair for support. However, the moment he touched the office chair, it was enveloped in a white light to Nabokov's astonishment, then transformed into a soft sofa.

It's still his favorite style.

After subconsciously pushing up his glasses once more and transforming them into cartoon-style plastic glasses, Nabokov realized that the problem lay with him.

Nabokov had also heard of that special talent called "superpower".

After several more attempts, Vladimir finally determined that he must have acquired a special ability, and that the effect was to transform other things into "what he liked".

The description is vague, but the general idea should be correct.

Then, suddenly, an idea surged from the deepest part of Nabokov's mind and uncontrollably took over his entire train of thought.

If everything he touches becomes the most desirable and harmless thing to him, then what about "people"?

Could the people he comes into contact with become the perfect "Lolita" in his mind?

Once the thought entered his mind, it was completely beyond Nabokov's control. Although Nabokov tried his best not to imagine the possibility, the expectation and the longing still burned like a flame in his chest, tormenting him constantly.

Finally, one night, Nabokov, who was suffering from insomnia once again, went to the mirror and stared intently at his reflection.

He was a tired and dejected man, a man whose life seemed to have no end in sight.

Nabokov closed his eyes, placed his hands on his chest, and slowly activated his power.

"Lolita" is his ideal of perfection, a dream that could never exist in reality, and no one can truly portray the perfect Lolita in Nabokov's mind.

But if one truly wants to create a soul for "Lolita," then Nabokov, who shaped everything about Lolita, is undoubtedly the most perfect candidate.

Nabokov fantasized about Lolita's every move, and only Nabokov could clearly know everything that Lolita should have.

Nabokov felt a warm sensation spread through his body, and a strange feeling of weightlessness and swelling appeared briefly before disappearing before Nabokov could confirm whether the feeling was an illusion.

An indescribable sense of anticipation filled Nabokov's mind and body at that moment.

After a long while, Nabokov finally mustered up the courage to look at the mirror.

It seemed as if time itself had stopped; Nabokov even felt he had lost the ability to think, but all of that seemed irrelevant at that moment.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Vladimir's hand trembled slightly as he touched his cheek.

"This is... exactly... exactly what I've always dreamed of..."

“Lolita…”

That evening, a resignation letter signed "Vladimir Nabokov" appeared on the principal's desk.

Three days later, a bizarre attack by a person with supernatural abilities was reported. Aside from the fact that the victim had turned into a young girl, it failed to attract any attention.

After that, similar attacks involving supernatural abilities occurred continuously in various locations. Since no casualties were reported, the incident did not require a large manpower allocation.

Two years later, the news that a small town had been completely transformed into a "fairytale toy town" shocked the nation.

The name Vladimir Nabokov, known for his "childhood romance," was first imprinted in everyone's minds.

Nabokov, as if burning his own life force, is active on Russian soil, constantly staging one farce after another.

Indeed, it was a farce—Vladimir brought chaos that could only be described as a farce, bizarre actions from which no logic could be analyzed.

The skyscrapers that were transformed into giant bear dolls, the entire area turned into a lake of juice, the forest that resembled a giant tea party, and the cargo ships that were originally filled with electronic parts are now scattered with toys...

Everything seemed illogical, yet nothing seemed to defy common sense, and nothing seemed unimaginable.

In fact, Vladimir, who was a "child lover," could not be said to be using his reason to decide his actions; rather, he completely surrendered control of his body to his desires.

It's not some boring thing like lust, but a deeper desire for self-satisfaction.

He hadn't considered any way out, nor the consequences; for Nabokov, it was all just a fantasy dream called "Lolita."

However, in the brief moments between moments of immersion in this dream, Vladimir always managed to precisely time his movements, lifting his head from the dream to take a deep breath of the oxygen that sustains his life—

Then I was immersed in a dream once again.

In fleeting moments, Vladimir could still revert to the near-perfect Professor Nabokov. Yet, he was so distinct, never allowing "Vladimir the Child" and "Professor Nabokov" to interfere with each other.

After all, "childhood love" represents all of Vladimir's unrealistic delusions, not Nabokov, who still needs to live a normal life.

"Maybe I'll get caught next time," Vladimir sometimes thought.

With this in mind, Vladimir, unrepentant, once again wreaked havoc in the city like a madman.

That was a completely reckless way of playing, always thinking "I'll get caught after this."

Five years passed in Vladimir's seemingly carefree attitude as he chased and fled.

At that moment, holding a can of juice in the bar, ignoring the curious and fearful gazes around him, Vladimir was thinking about something else.

"They'll be caught soon; they've run out of options to escape."

Even the most "responsible playfulness," when accumulated, becomes something beyond what Vladimir could achieve by using any strange means to escape.

Vladimir was well aware of how long he could hold out against this system called the state, and he knew clearly that it was impossible for him to escape from the government's blockade again.

Just as he was considering whether to end the game as Nabokov, a young man with heterochromia entered Vladimir's field of vision.

"Excuse me, are you Miss Vladimir Nabokov?"

How did Vladimir respond when his train of thought was interrupted?

"Hmm? That's me."

For a moment, Vladimir even wanted to laugh out loud, or even more outrageously, burst into laughter. Because he realized that this was exactly the kind of phrase he loved to use when he was still teaching at the university.

Nabokov, whose mood had improved because of this inexplicable coincidence, became a little more patient and listened to what the person in front of him wanted to do.

"I hope it's not going to be some kind of help transporting goods or torture again; that's not ladylike at all," were Vladimir's thoughts at the time.

What happened after that?

A guy whose interest was piqued secretly ran aboard a submarine belonging to a strange organization with only five members, because he thought there would be a lot of excitement to see there.

After that, Vladimir was pleasantly surprised to find that the organization was very good at evading capture, so he stubbornly stayed on the ship and continued his life as a "child lover".

He later learned that the organization had given itself a rather strange name: UN.

Did she join this strange organization?

From a procedural standpoint, there was no such thing. From beginning to end, she was nothing more than a stowaway who had slipped aboard the ship.

However, in essence, Vladimir is certainly a member of the UN.

Maintaining this strange relationship, the person who is immersed in the dream called "Lolita" has not yet woken up.