What would it hurt to have one less creep in the world? No, I shook my head, that's a dangerous game. I mean, that was like playing god, and I knew I was no god, no matter what sort of notebook was dropped on my doorstep. I shouldn't substitute my own judgment for the justice system. I reached for the notebook, then paused again.
What if I didn't substitute my own judgment? The justice system finds incontrovertible evidence against people all the time: video, DNA, or other evidence that isn't faked. And some people admit their crimes. Revel in them, even. What if I didn't substitute my judgment for anyone else's; instead, I simply enforced justice where the system was lacking? I mean, why else did I go into law? I wanted to change the world for the better. And getting off creeps like Edgars was not making the world a better place, no matter what the system said. What if I only used the notebook to help people?
As I fiddled with the notebook, flipping the pages back and forth while I pondered my own ethics, the page that contained the illegible writing happened to flip open. My eyes suddenly focused. The rest of the page remained the same, but without warning, I could read the first line of the document. It was like the words went from being chicken-scratch to real letters. It said:
"How to Use It:
The facts of the reality which is altered in this note shall change."
Instructions? Like, a how-to manual? What the heck was the use of a manual I couldn't read? And why was I suddenly able to read the first sentence? Was it because I had used the notebook to change reality? Maybe more rules would reveal themselves the more I used the book? If there were rules, what if there was a punishment for breaking them?
I looked back at the file showing the evidence against Edgars. So what if there was a catch? What if reality could be unbelievably changed for the better? It's not like I was going to make wide-sweeping changes. I had already thought better of that. I mean, all I did was scrawl a random thought into the notebook and it changed Edgars in a way I never truly contemplated. Or had I? How did the notebook come up with the way to change Edgars in the first place? My statement was awfully vague, and could be interpreted so many different ways. But suddenly turning into a human-sized earthworm? Was that my will, or that of the notebook?
I would have to test it out, and carefully. I couldn't help but shake my head at the thought. It meant I had decided to keep the notebook, despite the risks. If so, I would have to come up with a method to verify the way it worked. But doing something flashy like turning another person into a creature might get me unwanted attention. Better to try something low-key first, but it had to be something that could not be mistaken for coincidence.