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

clack.

The last layer of adhesion was severed by the tip of the knife, and a perfectly intact, grayish-white tremor gland fell into the tray. Several tiny nerve bundles remained at the edge, like loose threads on clothing.

Winslow examined it for a moment.

"First-class. Not the best, but first-class," he announced.

The students in the front row opened their eyes wide, even holding their breath, as they savored Gordon's actions.

There are no unnecessary movements or disastrous, frantic attempts to salvage the situation after a mistake; it's just the most ordinary operation, yet it gives people a feeling that is difficult to imitate.

Gordon breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the knife dry.

He could have done better, but he deliberately left some mistakes uncorrected so Winslow would know he was still the same student who had suddenly become eager to improve last night.

As he left, several eyes followed him. Good performance easily attracts attention at school.

The assessment will continue.

Without Gordon's exemplary performance as a precedent, this assessment would at best be considered a collective ordeal for medical students. However, Winslow had already set the "first-class" standard, leaving the others with no choice but to bite the bullet and challenge Gordon's record.

The second student made a cut, and the white rat monster's mind went completely wild.

The third student acted quickly, and the nerve bundle broke very quickly as well.

The fourth student dropped the tweezers into the tray, and the white rat twitched, as did the student himself.

When it was Charlotte's turn, she took a deep breath, clearly wanting to do things perfectly.

Her movements were more steady than the previous few. But when she was separating the nerve bundles at the end, the tip of the forceps trembled slightly, and the tremor gland flew out of the mouse's nape and hit Winslow's coat.

The entire class fell silent.

Winslow looked down at the gland, then up at Charlotte, before bending down to pick it up from the ground with tweezers.

"Third class."

Charlotte froze for a moment.

"No, you're not allowed to laugh." She passed by Gordon as she returned to her seat.

"What are you laughing at?" Gordon said. "Wasn't your ballistics test very successful?"

"!" Charlotte blushed deeply and walked away through gritted teeth.

For some reason, Gordon felt that Charlotte was very preoccupied today, completely losing her usual carefree demeanor.

……

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After the assessment, Winslow kept Gordon behind. Peter checked the equipment in the distance, worried that he would have to pay for even a single tweezer if it was lost.

"Great progress," Winslow said.

"Thank you, Professor," Gordon said. "That's the power of education."

"Don't give me that crap, what exactly did you do last night?"

"practise."

"Practice with a spider demon corpse bought for eighteen silver pounds?"

"High price means a steady hand. This thing is worth half a year's worth of my lunches... It's hard to get distracted when practicing."

Winslow stared at Gordon for a long time, his gaze becoming deep.

"This is a terrible world. I've met many incredible people who have done amazing things. You remind me of them," he pondered.

"You have such a vivid imagination about your students."

"I never underestimate any student, not even Peter," Winslow murmured.

Peter lifted his head and then lowered it.

Gordon didn't say anything.

"I've seen quite a few students suddenly have a breakthrough. Talent and ambition aren't uncommon, but where will they lead? Heroes, madmen, geniuses..." Winslow continued.

"I don't intend to become anyone else; I will only act according to my own will," Gordon said.

"Many people say that."

"Professor, the debt is making me anxious, and I can't understand grand narratives," Gordon said. "I really didn't understand what you were saying. Lately, I've even been having my dreams on installment."

Winslow seemed lost in thought.

"Starting today, you're no longer just a lab janitor," Winslow said. "You're also one of my assistants, helping to organize materials and record low-level demonic samples. You can give it a try."

"If someone wants to buy a spider carcass from me, I'll offer a high price," Gordon promised.

Peter looked up from a distance, then looked down again.

"I believe in your financial situation. Your next question will be, 'Will this get you a raise?'" Winslow said.

"Another inch."

"Three silver pounds per week."

Gordon's expression immediately turned serious.

"Professor," he said, "I suddenly saw the light of medicine pierce through the thick leaden clouds and shine upon my barren life..."

"Didn't you see it just now?"

"Just now it was forty perverted humans abusing rats. But now, this is a sacred exploration of truth."

"If your performance remains consistent, I can consider writing a scholarship recommendation for you," Winslow said slowly.

This time, Gordon did not respond immediately.

scholarship.

This word is important at the Royal Academy of Sciences University; it can't make you a star overnight, but it can bridge the desperate gap between Gordon and his £100 student loan.

"I praise the glorious tradition of the Academy," Gordon sincerely remarked.

……

Leaving the lecture hall, Gordon found Charlotte by the carved window in the corridor. The frosty mist climbed up the glass, making the reflection of her profile particularly hazy.

"I'm an assistant now," Gordon said seriously.

"Congratulations!" Charlotte said listlessly. "What's up? Assistant, are you ready for a meteoric rise?"

"Don't say that," Gordon said. "The professor just discovered that I still have the potential to be exploited further."

"Then let's reconcile the accounts."

Can I pay in installments?

"I haven't told you to pay me back now."

"You sounded like a creditor just now."

"Because I am."

Charlotte pulled a folded piece of paper from the delicate lace cuffs.

"I lent you eighteen silver pounds yesterday...based on your income..."

"I have three coins," Gordon counted out. "That'll give you a symbolic victory."

Charlotte looked at the three copper coins and raised her eyebrows.

"You, you really dare to take it out. I haven't handled any currency smaller than a silver pound since I was 3 years old."

"Oh, let me tell you, I once lived on a single copper coin for a day..."

"That's not it." Charlotte sighed. "I just want to know, since you've read more books than I have, could you help me understand some things related to the Otherworldly Demons?"

Gordon recalled the headlines in the morning newspaper.

Nighttime Lockdown of the Montfort Family Mansion...

He looked at Charlotte.

"Has something happened to your family?"

"It's much more serious than that." Charlotte's smile faded.

"Let me explain in detail," Gordon said.

"It's a house left by our ancestors. I remember that old, grand mansion, rich and solemn, proudly standing firm on the banks of the Blackwater River... I spent my childhood in that old house, shrouded in the shadow of rumors. Last night, the people at the ancestral home suddenly stopped me from going in. The housekeeper said it was just a water pipe malfunction, and the basement was flooded," Charlotte said.

"Savings money".

"It might be the interference of the Otherworldly demons. Some people say they've seen it. Based on the servants' descriptions, I drew this." Charlotte took out a folded note from her small bag.

[Abstract painting. Do not look.]

Gordon stared at it for two seconds, barely managing to make out that the thing had a fish head, a human body, four or five hands, and a tail that he tried hard to draw but couldn't quite make out.

"Your art papermaking is truly improving day by day."

"It's scary. They're being evasive. What can I do?" Charlotte said, somewhat embarrassed and annoyed.

"It seems your family doesn't want to make a big fuss, alarm the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs, and leave a criminal record," Gordon said.

"Yes, it will affect my ability to take the civil service exam."

Gordon understood.

In the Logris Empire, the Department of Otherworldly Affairs is not some charitable organization that "eliminates evil for the people".

Why do these demons attack your house instead of other people?

Are you hiding any contraband in your house?

Their intervention will only result in sealing off the scene, registering the contamination, thoroughly investigating the victims' names and personal information, and finally releasing the details to the public. In the end, aside from making a few lawyers rich, no one will benefit.

"Don't kill me when I get ashore," Gordon lamented.

"I'm serious, there are some important things in the ancestral home, and I want to do my part, but they all treat me like a child. You're different; you... you do things for people sometimes. Will you help me? Come with me to take a look."

"Your family won't stand idly by."

"They hired a Source Hunter," Charlotte said.

"Then what should I do there? Cheer on the hunters?"

"She was very capable, or at least she seemed very capable. But after she went in, she only said that there were things dead inside, and things that weren't dead yet. She was vague and just asked us to pay more."

That's very professional.

Fighting without an official bounty, agency registration, or workers' compensation, dying in a basement, makes even writing an epitaph difficult.

More money, absolutely more money!

Only those with money have the courage to face danger.

"I know that what happened to your family is unusual; there must be a dark and profound secret behind it," Gordon said.

"Hmph, then you don't have to come help me." She said, then turned away from Gordon.

Gordon suddenly realized that this usually aloof young lady was actually prepared to be rejected.

If he says "I'm not going," she will say disappointedly, "I understand," and then return alone to the entrance of that gloomy old house, facing a group of servants who refuse to say anything.

"I'm a man who always repays kindness," Gordon said. "You generously lent me eighteen pounds, which was a lifesaver. A friend's help in an emergency is a debt we can settle later."

"Hmm!" Charlotte turned her head sharply, her dull eyes instantly lighting up with an astonishing light. "You owe me money, and I happen to need someone who understands otherworldly beings. Gordon, you better make me look like you have good taste."

"But let me make this clear first," Gordon said, holding up a finger with an extremely serious expression. "I'm not a professional hunter. I don't charge in, I don't tank monsters, I'm not responsible for swearing allegiance before your ancestors' portraits, and I can run faster than you when danger comes."

"Then what can you guarantee?" Charlotte laughed in exasperation.

"I can promise..." Gordon gazed into her eyes, "that I will be absolutely honest with you under any circumstances."

Charlotte smiled slightly.

That's exactly what she wanted to hear.

"Then next, we'll go to my house. It's right here..."

"Wait," Gordon said, "you don't want me to walk over there, do you? Charlotte, I have to ride in the same car as you."