The Untethered Soul Book Review の小説・ストーリー

My sweat stopped coming ages ago, and my skin, once flushed from the heat, had turned into a sickly, pallid gray. But my fingers were still curled around the vocabulary list, refusing to let go of the paper that was wrinkled from my earlier sweat and now covered in dirt as well. Hovering in the air, I looked down at the piece of paper. The words were beyond recognition. I didn't know how much time had passed before my body stopped moving completely. At that very moment, it felt as if my soul had been set free. I no longer had that hazy feeling, as if I were hovering on the brink of life and death. My soul had truly detached itself from my body.

Sometimes, the body remembers what the soul tries to forget. It wasn't the pain that broke me, but the way my body stopped belonging to me. Every unwanted touch was another crack. A piece of me vanishing without a sound. I arrived to Chicago months ago, and I still struggle to breathe. This city doesn’t embrace me—it watches me. Everything is clean, cold, precise. Neon lights flicker like fake stars, and the rain hits the windows with military discipline. It’s a world built to function, not to feel.

If he had not studied it before, he would not have recognized it too. The words Mystical Soul Technique were written on the cover. It felt extraordinary; Henry could not help but use his consciousness to open the book and read it. He managed to open the book. The content of the book attracted his attention immediately. The Mystical Soul Technique turned out to be a method of cultivating mental power and improving soul power. Moreover, there were some applications of the technique in the book, such as soul capture, which could make the other party unconscious for a short period. There was also the method of soul control.

Ilana felt the weight of the man’s body lift away from her but she didn’t move, still pressed against the wall as if some invisible weight was holding her in place. She heard yells and grunts and curses but it wasn’t enough to penetrate the numbness that had settled over her. Her soul still hovered somewhere far far away from her body, detached and unanchored, leaving her a helpless, spectral observer of her own trauma. She felt a shiver run down her spine, a painful reminder of how naked she was; both body and soul.

It carries the weight of my deadpanned soul awaiting a release in the atmosphere of hell. I envy the demons who are alloted to travel across the realm without any obligation or signing the exit contract in Satan's chamber. That red book levitating beside Satan's bed is like a pet to him; he takes it while he is on his rounds in the realm. Only the hardcore tainted souls who have killed and died with the victims should sign the book of exit... especially, me for he has placed me on the lowest pedestal.

he said. I held the book tighter, “Power like this isn’t stored in people for a reason,” I said, slowly opening the book. “It’s stored in inanimate vessels for a reason—books, stones, crystals—because they don’t have souls to corrupt.” I paused, saying through gritted teeth, “they don’t feel.” My heart pounded but I continued, “They don’t break under the weight of it.” Silence at first and then suddenly he understood. He already knew what I was going to do. He saw it in my face.

He is the Passing the swimming pool on his left and the fire pit on his right, he kept walking until His footsteps stopped when he was at the end of the garden way around tip toe in his boots, his eyes stared at the clear blue water in front of him as his eyes blinked distractedly with a butterfly passing by, turning to the direction the butterfly was leaving, he glanced at a beautiful gazebo surrounded by flowers and more covered with curtain drapes around it, not thinking too much his heart took him there as he stopped right step on top of the solid wooden floor which he didn't notice with his head tilted as he was distracted when his eyes were fixed on a book that the butterfly had landed

The least I could do was try. I pulled open a few books with cracked leather covers and turned past yellowed pages with trembling fingers. Most of it was nonsense—symbolic poetry, dried-up spells that sounded more like superstition than fact. But something about the shape of the letters still felt heavy. Real. My eyes caught on a passage inked in rust-red: To sever the bond between soul and shadow, one must first expose the tether that binds them. “Oh, what on earth?” I cursed in frustration. “Soul and shadow? What…”

It was like something straight out of my daydreams, but with dark undercurrents pulling me in further. Just as I was starting to get lost in the story, the term "Fated Mate" caught my eye, jerking me out of the daydream. It shone on the page, glowing like a lighthouse. The idea that two halves of one soul could be in separate bodies and that they were meant to find each other was thrilling. My fingers tingled at the thought, each pulse echoing through the chaos of my emotions. Could it be real? My thoughts whirled like a tornado—not entirely because of the book, but because of the desperate longing buried in my chest.

" I feel myself being disconnected, the tethers that have held me in Charles’s mind are breaking. I feel my body seize and shake as the bonds are broken. I panic when I look down and realise I’m not attached to anybody, I’m floating and looking at the scene below me. Am I drifting away, never to be heard from again? I feel no attachments or anchors, my spirit is free and there is a purple glow. Looking down at the pack members who have attended, I see Joe looking up. It feels like he is looking straight at me. “The tether is not strong enough, we must repeat,” he says, his voice sounding distorted.