Romans & histoires How Heavy Is A Book

"And I brought them along." She made a gesture and four guards walked in and in their arms they carried a stack of books. About twenty each. And they were all no less than five inches thick with thick hard covers made of hardened leather. She stood up –her trousers stained with blood around the knees– and took one of the heavy books from one of the men. It wasn't any thicker than a dictionary but her arms gave out and it pulled her to the ground. She was terribly drained and when she tried to muster all her strength to list it, she ended up being bent over in a hunch position but nonetheless, still walked up to André and handed him the book.

The tear was subtle, barely visible unless you were looking closely, but it seemed deliberate somehow, like it had been created to mark something specific. My heart started beating faster as I reached up and carefully took the book out of the shelf. It was heavier than I had expected, and as I held it in my hands, I could feel that the weight distribution was wrong for a normal book. There was something solid and dense inside that didn't feel like pages.

It has many colors that kept on changing. It was so dazzling that Feng Shaotian's eyes hurt. A few seconds later, the book lost its color and look no different from a normal book. What dumbfounded Feng Shaotian even more is that the book was so heavy. He had to put it on the table as his hand hurt. "Huh? The book was so heavy but it didn't even destroy this table. The system sure is mighty“. Staring at the book. Feng Shaotian can't understand what was written on it. He can't comprehend the words in it as it was written in a different way. ”What's the use of this book if I can't read it?“.

And moments later, a thick leather-bound book fell in my hand. *THUD* "Urgh!" My right hand couldn't hold the whole book up so it fell on my right foot. "Goodness! That hurt so much." I held my right foot with both my hands and winced in pain. Why is that book so heavy? After a few moments the pain slowly disappeared. I finally took the book from the ground and opened it. The leather binding has fancy marks in it and has title imprinted on the front.

“A copy will be made for the pack records. But the original should be with you.” I look at the book. Old and worn and real. I pick it up. It is heavier than it looks. Things that have been carrying history for a long time always are.

The book was a library hardback with a great white shark on the cover, opened to a page that was almost entirely photographed. “Lucas.” “This one is ten tonnes,” he said, without looking up. “It says ten. They thought it was too big to be real so they measured it twice.” “Lunch box.” “Yeah.” “Now.” “Just—” “Now, Lucas. The bus is in nine minutes.” He closed the book with his thumb marking the page, got up off the floor, opened his backpack on the counter, and started digging. Chloe came down the stairs behind me with one sock on and an opinion already forming.

Instead, I walked quietly to the small room Kaden had told me about earlier, the one where I would find the books. The moment I opened the door, a strange smell of old paper and dust hit my nose. The books were nothing like I imagined. They were much bigger, heavier, and older than I thought they would be. Their covers were worn out, and the leather bindings were cracked in several places. Some of them looked like they could fall apart if I wasn’t careful.

The air is still and quiet, filled with secrets waiting to be uncovered. I select another volume and add it to my ever-growing pile. The worn leather spines creak as I pile another stack of books into my arms. Their dusty pages call to me, begging to be opened and explored. I hoisted the stack of books higher in my arms, struggling to keep them balanced. There must have been at least two dozen volumes weighing down my arms, ranging from gothic horror to historical romances, all consists of something dark.

His eyes widened and his arms dropped a little at the weight of it. "What the hell have you got in here?" "Books." I rolled my eyes. "They're the weights I was talking about. I've been running with those ones for the past year. I'm about to move onto the next mass. I usually go up in fives or tens, it depends what I feel like doing. You can have those ones since I don't need them anymore."

Hence, if someone must be held accountable, it should not be him. Then, Maisie traced her finger along with the weight inscription's pattern. There was still a faint smile on her face, but the solemness in her eyes was gone. Soon, Maisie turned to William and asked, "Uncle William, how much weight can a weapon gain if it's engraved with your weight inscription?" "About six to eight times heavier." William thought about it and gave a rough estimation.