Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

Gray's last sentence was very well said: You also need to have a source substance within you.

"Thanks for the reminder." Gordon watched him leave, gently feeling the thin thread deep in his mind.

The unbroken string hangs there quietly.

Source matter is a very subtle concept.

Good news: Source energy can make people stronger.

Bad news: Everyone already knows the good news.

So robbery, deception, buying and selling, killing... everyone relied on their own abilities.

If Gordon wants to live a better life now, he must continue to pursue Source and Power. This is a path of no return.

The silverfish box is the next interface.

……

The Montfort family's carriage took Gordon and Charlotte back to the East End.

Gordon and Charlotte sat in the classroom for a full hour during their history class in the morning.

According to the teachers, the monarchs of the Logris Empire were all very wise, especially adept at spreading civilization, safeguarding treasures for other countries, and facilitating transoceanic labor migration.

Gordon thought it made sense.

Robbery is a crime if it happens on land. At sea, it's about competition and expansion. If it persists for generations, it can be written into textbooks.

When the bell rang, the students, like birds released from their cages, poured out of the classroom carrying their books, lunchboxes, and a deep-seated resentment towards their homework.

Gordon returned to the biomedical building.

  

The dissection room still smelled familiar: preservative solution, metal, wood... and those roommates in glass jars.

In the corner, the spider demon lay quietly.

[The corpse of the Spider Demon. It used to be very dangerous, now it mainly takes up space.]

Gordon adjusted the angle of his spider legs, displaying a tension that preceded an ambush, and then polished his carapace.

Now it has a certain solemnity.

[A spider demon specimen. Trying to prove its death wasn't in vain.]

This confirms a fact: whenever the state of an object is rearranged, the wording also changes.

When Professor Winslow walked in, he saw Gordon tidying up the dead spider's remains.

"You've been messing with that spider for a long time, ever since that open class," Winslow said.

"I'm advocating for academic sponsorship for the college," Gordon said.

"Use a dead spider?"

"To correct you, it's [an adult spider demon specimen that was once used in a public course at the Royal Academy of Natural Sciences University]. The only thing separating us from trash and treasure is now a certificate!" Gordon adjusted the spider leg to its most imposing position.

Winslow had to admit it.

From certain angles, it does indeed possess a kind of eerie beauty.

"...It sounds like it's going to be sold to someone," he said.

"The Monford family." Gordon found the newspaper the professor had brought.

The front page headline reads: "Blackwater River Governance Conference Concludes: His Majesty Approves Shocking Budget Plan."

Next to it was a tiny message that looked like a typesetting mishap: "A large amount of Deep Claw Demon materials have appeared in the Old Fish Market, source unknown."

"I heard that the emperor wanted to control the Blackwater River, and the Otherworlders went ashore and committed suicide?" The professor connected the two events with his thoughts.

"Well, almost there. Let me tell you—the Monford family has an old collection," Gordon said. "A silverfish box. It was empty when they bought it. Recently, it's started to ooze substances that have a lure effect on Deepclaws."

"Go on," Winslow said, becoming interested. "It sounds like some kind of spiritual response."

"The Montfort family is certainly not afraid of the Deepclaws; they are simply exceptionally enthusiastic about scholarship. So, as soon as they discovered the problems with the old collection, they prepared to donate it to the college," Gordon said. "But the nobles can't donate for nothing, and our college can't take it for nothing either. So I proposed a compromise."

"Ah, trading a silverfish box for a spider." Winslow instantly understood. "You're quite adept at finding jobs for corpses."

"Yes, that's fair. Spider goes to the Montfort Collection to serve his sentence. Silverfish comes to the academy for continuing education," Gordon said. "The paperwork is ready; all that's left is your signature, and it'll be settled."

Winslow took the cardboard clip.

Gordon had already written the explanation, with proper wording and a rigorous structure, fabricating an unbreakable friendship between the Monford family and the Royal College of Natural Sciences.

"I can sign this; you've done a really good job repairing it. Of course, whether the box can be replaced depends on whether the other party is willing," Winslow said.

"Definitely, they would change it just for your signature."

That sounds like a compliment. But Professor Winslow likes compliments that are backed by facts.

The professor signed his name and then stamped his seal.

Noah Winslow.

His handwriting is beautiful and neat; every letter is well-written and doesn't run off the page.

As the pen made its final stroke, the price of the spider demon corpse began to rise.

You can't change the fact that the spider is dead, but you can change the way everyone sees it.

"Thank you, Professor."

"Don't thank me yet. Actually, there's something you mentioned that I'm concerned about: you said this 'Silver Fish Box Extract' attracts otherworldly demons. I need to reproduce it. If it can't be reproduced, it doesn't apply to me." Professor Winslow said skeptically.

Gordon's heart sank.

He suddenly had a premonition that it would be difficult for him to graduate from this school.

"We'll have to go to the river," Gordon said.

"Let's go then. Just treat it as fishing. I haven't gone fishing in ages."

Going fishing with Professor Winslow is a rare opportunity.

"But Professor, the river isn't just inhabited by Deepclaws, but also by Poisonous Eel Demons, Giant Claw Demons... and even Sea Dragon Demons at the estuary. Professor, if I may be so bold, you don't seem like someone who would use a harpoon," Gordon said.

"Kid, I never worry about that kind of thing," Winslow said.

Yes. Gordon understood.

Someone of a professor's caliber must have connections.

……

Gordon walked through the campus.

The afternoon sun shone on the stone pavement, and students poured out of the buildings, chatting about lunch, prayer, tennis, and how to spend the Eid holiday next month.

Charlotte sat on the steps drawing. She had blonde hair, wore a ribbon, and looked youthful and lovely.

She's easy to spot in a crowd. Charlotte is so bright; if the gaslights ever go out one night, you could invite her into your room for the night.

And other people will avoid her.

Although she was quite amiable in front of Gordon, she was very harsh on other classmates. If you angered her, her trained eye-rolling could instantly destroy your self-esteem.

Gordon greeted her.

"What's this?" she asked, noticing the large box in Gordon's arms.

"A rare collectible," Gordon smiled.

Charlotte stopped writing and turned her gaze from the box to his face.

"I have a bad feeling."

Gordon opened the box.

[A specimen certified by Professor Winslow. It happens to look like a spider.]

"Isn't this... the one I bought for you for 18 silver pounds?" Charlotte said, both amused and exasperated.

"Its value has increased many times over." Gordon handed her the cardboard holder.

Charlotte's expression slowly changed when she saw Winslow's signature.

"Yes, my father will accept this." Charlotte's expression was complicated.

“He wants a respectable reason,” Gordon said. “I’ll give him one.”

"And you?"

"I want the silver fish box."

"Where's the professor?"

"He needs something he can research."

Charlotte was quiet for a moment.

"So you sold a stinky spider three times," she said.

"Don't put it so harshly," Gordon said. "Besides, it has very important significance."

"What?"

"Do you remember that collection room?" Gordon looked at her. "There were things left by your ancestors, things your father bought, things from all sorts of people with the surname Monford desperately trying to prove they existed. But there was nothing of yours."

"..." Charlotte pursed her lips.

"Things are different now, Charlotte. This is for you; it's part of your collection."

Charlotte fell silent.

She saw the documents Gordon had written line by line.

I saw Winslow's seal and signature in the corner, and a line hidden between the lines that read "Dedicated to Charlotte Monford".

She looked again at the spider that had been restored to perfection.

It's really ugly.

It's ugly in a serious way, and expensive in a sudden way.

But at this moment, it was like a bouquet of flowers that Gordon had gone through a long process to finally deliver to her.

"Next time you give a girl something, don't give her something so frightening," Charlotte said.

"I'll have a higher budget next time," Gordon said.

Charlotte accepted it readily, and Gordon felt the weight in her hand lessen, but he sensed her gaze growing heavier.

It seems that some things, once given away, bring back more than just money.

[Charlotte Monford's collection. It now holds many meanings.]