The experiments continued—was it really useless, or was there some good way to use it? Well, at the time, I was also just genuinely having fun playing around with time magic.

Even though I kept thinking, Man, this is kinda useless…, there was no denying it was a fascinating spell.

During the experiments, I figured out a few things pretty quickly.

Test #1
This time magic can only be used 10 times a day.

By around the 7th use, I started getting a slight headache, and by the 9th, it was really bad.

On the 10th try, I got as far as “Time, halt—” before the pain made me throw up. No way I could push further.

The next day, I could use it normally again, but by the 8th cast, the headache returned, and by the 10th, I was completely spent. That pattern never changed, so it’s pretty clear the daily limit is 9-10 uses.

And no, it doesn’t seem like repeatedly exhausting the limit increases it over time.

You’d think only 10 times a day is too little, right?

But honestly? It’s not that bad. Because when would you ever need to use it 10 times in a day…?

Test #2
Since all objects seem to freeze in time, even soft things become rock-hard during the stoppage. I guess it’s because their time is stopped, so they can’t deform?

For example, pudding turns into a literal brick—completely inedible while time is frozen.

So no, you can’t use time-stop to sneak a bite of someone else’s school lunch pudding. Just this alone makes time magic’s existence highly questionable. What’s even the point of time magic if you can’t steal other people’s pudding?!

Theoretically, you could try to shove the entire hard pudding into your mouth without chewing, then start munching once time resumes—but that’s way too hard to pull off.

And you’d have to do it in one second.

By the way, things you’re touching don’t seem to freeze, so if you’re already eating pudding, it stays soft. If you stop time mid-bite, the pudding won’t suddenly harden and break your teeth—so rest easy, I guess?

And for all you gentlemen out there thinking, “One second is plenty to cop a feel of that pretty lady’s chest as I walk past!”—sorry, but those would be rock-hard too.

Test #3
Things that run on fuel or electricity—like cars or trains—seem impossible to operate while time is stopped. I’ve never actually driven one, though, so I’m not sure.

On the other hand, bicycles do work.

A simpler example: pressing a TV remote during time-stop does nothing.

So no, you can’t desperately input a fighting game combo mid-time-stop when you’re about to lose.

Test #4
This one made me realize just how useless this time magic really is.

When I stop time and move, then time resumes after one second, to everyone else, it must look like I just teleported.

Once, I accidentally used it in front of someone—they rubbed their eyes and stared at me hard. They definitely noticed, but probably just couldn’t believe what they saw.

That was close!

I also tried moving slowly during the stoppage, but since time is completely frozen, no matter how slow I go, it still looks like teleportation. Such a disappointing mechanic.

Some of you might be thinking, “If you can stop time for a second, you could cheat on tests!”

But no. In that one second, you’d have to peek at someone else’s test and return to nearly the exact same position. If your hand or head is even slightly off, it’ll look like you suddenly jerked around—and in a dead-silent exam hall, that’s way too suspicious.

The proctor would mark you instantly.

Cheating? Also a no-go!

Ughhh. Time magic really is useless! What am I supposed to do now?!

No, wait—it’s time-stop, the dream of humanity! There has to be something!