The places Ritchie wishes to travel aren't easily accessible to a human. Dimensional travel takes time, practice and a level of discipline that he has thus far reached only under great duress and circumstance. A little reading may do him some good which prompt his visit to the library.

"Fuck," it's admittedly louder than the standard inside voice, but he continues flipping through his pages anyway should he have missed something.

Nothing.

Slamming the heavy book on ethereal dimension aside, he slides it across the table and picks up another beast of a book which he starts flipping through and pouring over, mumbling loudly to himself. It's the only way he can think with any clarity.