The Wizard: Starting as a Corpse Collector Apprentice and Paying for a Monthly Subscription

The blowing river wind, carrying the distinctive stench of the sewers, howled and swept across the old riverbank.

The carriage swayed and rattled along the uneven cobblestone road, making a teeth-grinding "creak" sound.

Tyron didn't urge him on, but simply let the old horse stroll aimlessly along the riverbank for twenty minutes.

The carriage was deathly silent.

Finally, old Jack's hoarse voice broke the suffocating silence.

"Little Horse... I'm sorry."

Tyrone pulled on the reins and looked back.

He saw that Old Jack seemed to have had all his energy drained away in an instant.

His already hunched back was now bent into a fully drawn bow, and his wrinkled face showed a deathly, dejected look.

If Jack was a camel struggling to survive before, now the last straw has fallen.

"I'm not selling it anymore."

Old Jack's cloudy eyes held little luster, only an almost stubborn stillness.

"That little bit of money...it can't save my life, nor can it fill that hole."

"I... I still can't let go of Linda."

He stretched out his rough, cracked fingers and gently stroked the old woman's face, his movements as gentle as if she were simply asleep.

"At least let her leave with dignity and cleanliness."

Tyron watched this scene quietly.

As a rational wizarding apprentice, he should have calculated the time and cost of the journey.

In the eyes of a soul-based wizard, a corpse is merely a consumable item that has lost its soul.

But as a human being, or rather, as someone who retains the bottom line from his past life, he cannot be so cold and ruthless.

"it is good."

Tyron didn't offer any further advice, nor did he mention the so-called ransom he had previously advanced.

He simply nodded calmly, flicked his wrist, and the reins lashed out in a clean whip-like motion in the air.

"Hold on tight, we're going home."

……

In the dilapidated wooden houses of the old mining street, the air was filled with a musty smell and the stench of decaying old wood.

Old Jack laboriously carried his deceased wife's body back to the only wooden bed.

Although the sheets were old and faded from washing, they were laid out very smoothly.

Two elderly people, one alive and one dead, exist in this narrow space as if in two different times and spaces.

At that moment, poverty, hunger, and disease seemed to be kept out of this dilapidated little house.

Tyron stood at the door, not going in to disturb this last moment of peace.

"Little Horse, here you go."

Old Jack suddenly dragged a dusty wicker trunk out from under the bed, rummaged through it for a while, and tossed over a cube wrapped in layers of oiled paper.

"This was left behind by little Jack... that good-for-nothing brat."

When he mentioned his deceased son, old Jack's voice was devoid of hatred, only filled with endless weariness.

"There are a few books inside that I can't understand."

"I originally wanted to keep it as a memento, but now it seems... I'll be seeing them soon, so there's no point in keeping it."

"I can never repay the kindness you have shown me today."

"You are the wizard's student; these things might be useful to you."

Tyron took the package.

It feels heavy in your hand and has a distinctive, old paper smell.

"Is there anything else I need to do?" Tyron asked.

Old Jack shook his head, his back to the door, tightly embracing the cold corpse as if it were the only warmth he had left in the world.

"Close the door."

Tyron paused for two seconds, then said softly, "Take care."

Then, he gently closed the creaking wooden door, shutting out the world that was heading towards its end.

……

After leaving the old mining street, Tyren did not go straight back to the Wizard's Tower.

Now that we're out here, we should try not to go back empty-handed.

This is a habit left over from my previous life in sales—never make a wasted trip.

He skillfully drove the carriage through the border area between the docks and the slums.

"Hey, old Tom!"

Tyron tossed a cheap cigarette to a dockworker foreman, suppressing his inner sorrow and putting on a perfectly appropriate, familiar smile.

"Have any good finds floated up in the river lately? Or has any unfortunate soul been crushed by a shipping container?"

"Oh, it's Little Ma." Old Tom greedily sniffed the tobacco and chuckled.

"No, not today. The supervisors have been very strict lately, so everyone's being extra careful while working."

"Okay, remember to reserve it for me if you have any. Same rules, cash on delivery."

After saying goodbye to the foreman, Tyron stopped by the public laundry tub and chatted with a few women whose hands were covered in soap suds about the recent flu and typhoid fever.

Finally, he used a piece of cheap brown sugar to trick a few wild children running around in the alley into revealing that a stray dog ​​had just died in the next block.

"Looks like my luck isn't so good today."

Tyron sat on the carriage shaft, looking at the shimmering Tianhe Canal, and let out a long sigh.

Although he gained nothing, he was not anxious.

This seemingly useless social interaction is actually weaving a web.

In this information-isolated, underprivileged society, these people are his eyes and ears.

As long as this friendship is maintained, he will always be the first to know if a body is found.

……

It was already 2 p.m. when I returned to the basement of the Wizard Tower in Kane.

In the cold morgue, the candlelight still flickered.

Tyrone settled the carriage, washed the handles, sat down at the workbench covered in knife marks, and took out the package that old Jack had given him.

"Hopefully it's not some kind of erotic book."

Tyron sighed self-deprecatingly and untied the thin string from the oil paper package.

The package contained two yellowed notebooks and a dark blue hardcover book.

He first opened the two notebooks.

"Rune Fundamentals Class Notes", "Experiences in Magic Sensing"...

The handwriting was illegible, and the content was a jumbled mess.

For example, the tutor said "mental power is like mercury flowing on the ground," and Little Jack remembered it as "thinking about mercury in your mind."

"No wonder you failed the exam." Tyron shook his head.

"With this level of comprehension, he's basically said goodbye to bicycles."

The second book is a diary.

Tyron quickly flipped through the book, which was filled with the complaints, fantasies, and daydreams of a lowly apprentice about a female apprentice, as well as the despair he felt at the end due to being in debt to loan sharks.

It has absolutely no nutritional value.

Tyron casually tossed the diary aside, his gaze falling on the last blue book.

The book cover had no text, only a faint silver scratch.

Turn to the first page.

Tyron, who had been nonchalant, suddenly widened his pupils.

The book features densely packed rune diagrams, complex magic circuit analyses, and a sharp, thorn-like magic configuration located in the very center of the page.

"This is……"

Tyron took a deep breath and quickly flipped to the next page.

With the 30-fold acceleration of his thinking brought about by the [Slacking Off Sacred Body], those obscure words and patterns were instantly disassembled and reassembled in his eyes.

Three minutes later, he closed the book, his eyes sparkling with unbelievable surprise.

"magic?!"

"This is actually a skill book that records formal magic!"

In this wizarding world where knowledge is strictly sealed, every spell has a clear value.

Even the lowest level of "Small Fireball" can fetch a high price of thousands of purple gold coins on the black market.

And Little Jack, this good-for-nothing who can't even pass the apprentice assessment, actually has such a good thing hidden away?

"The Art of Assassination..."

Tyron looked at the cover and whispered the name.

This is not the kind of elemental magic that can summon wind and rain, but rather an extremely rare, even obscure, type of auxiliary magic.

The effect is simple: it consumes 1 point of magic power to attach a layer of high-frequency oscillating magic blades to the surface of the weapon.

The book describes it as: "Giving ordinary iron the sharpness to tear through steel, eliminating friction that hinders penetration."

"Isn't this just a high-frequency particle vibration knife?"

Tyron instantly grasped the underlying physics.

Through the high-frequency vibration of magic, the coefficient of friction of the contact surface is greatly reduced, thereby achieving the effect of cutting iron like mud.

"No wonder Little Jack didn't succeed."

As Tyron looked at the complex vibration frequency formula in the book, he made a rational assessment.

"This thing requires extremely high precision in controlling magic power. With his terrible basic skills, it would be a waste of his whole life to practice it."

Daily Quest: Complete two magic skill practice sessions.

"Perfect, I'll use you as practice."

Tyron closed his eyes and adjusted his breathing.

With the blessing of the "Slacking Off Sacred Body," his consciousness sank into the sea of ​​his mind, and the contents of the blue book were frantically poured into his memory palace like a flowing stream of data.

Analytical model, simulation loop, frequency adjustment, error correction...

Magic that would normally take an ordinary apprentice at least three days to barely get the hang of and half a month to master was accelerated 30 times in Tyron's mind.

One hour... two hours...

Two and a half hours later.

Tyron suddenly opened his eyes, and with a swift grab of his right hand, the boning knife he usually used to dispose of corpses fell into his palm.

"Demonic Needle Technique"

With a soft murmur, a faint yet pure amount of magic flowed down his arm and into the hilt of the sword.

hum-

There was no blinding light, nor any loud noise.

The boning knife, which was originally somewhat blunt, was suddenly covered with a layer of almost invisible transparent ripples.

Tyron raised the knife and gently blew on it.

The breath of air was neatly sliced ​​apart by an invisible force just an inch before it touched the blade.

"This level of sharpness..."

Tyron's eyes narrowed, and he turned to walk towards a corpse behind him.

He was a burly mercenary with arms thicker than an average person's thighs, bulging muscles, and hard bones.

Tyron didn't gather any strength; he simply stabbed the boning knife lightly, as if cutting butter.

puff.

There was no sense of obstruction.

I didn't even feel the blade cutting into my flesh.

That ordinary boning knife silently pierced through the mercenary's thick forearm, cleanly severing the ulna and radius bones inside.

Only when the blade was completely submerged did a trickle of blood seep from the wound.

"hiss--"

Tyron gasped, pulled out his knife, and stared at the smooth, mirror-like cut of the bone.

"The friction is... almost zero."

"If used in combat, this knife can easily pierce leather armor and even chainmail."

"But if it's used for work..."

Tyron looked at the room full of corpses, a glint of fanaticism flashing in his eyes.

"It used to take half an hour to process a body, now? One minute!"

This isn't a killing technique; it's clearly a working-class superpower!

With this, his work efficiency will experience another qualitative leap!

Without stopping, Tyron immediately began the subsequent tests.

He gathered various materials: wood, sheet metal, and stone.

Half an hour later, the test report took shape in his mind:

Duration: A single enhancement lasts for 5 minutes.

Cost: 1 point of mana.

Scope of application: Any sharp or pointed object, including scalpels, daggers, and even dinner knives.

"Perfect."

Tyrion dispelled his magic, looked at the still intact boning knife in his hand, and nodded in satisfaction.

Just then, a familiar notification popped up on my retina.

Daily Quest Completed: Perform two magic skill practice sessions.

Experience gained: 300

Congratulations! Your Monthly Card level has been upgraded to Lv.1.

The experience points from the monthly pass immediately reached 900.

Tyron then immediately meditated, and his spirit level increased from 3.2 to 3.3. At the same time, the 2 spirit points he had consumed while practicing magic were fully restored!

"I see. The Sacred Body of Slacking Off can't affect the phases of the moon, but it can affect the recovery efficiency of meditation!"

"Normally at my current level, one cycle of meditation only restores 1 point of mental energy, but I didn't expect it to be fully restored!"

"As expected, the strong always bring surprises!"

While sighing, Tyron also completed his daily meditation task and gained another 300 experience points.

Accompanied by a pleasant sound effect, the previously grayed-out level icon finally lit up.

Tyronn eagerly clicked to claim it.

slam-la-

A bunch of tempting items instantly appeared in the void backpack.

[Received: Apprentice Experience Book x4]

[Received: Wizard's Experience Book x1]

[Received: 5 Basic Alchemy Materials Selection Packs]

Looking at the experience books that were emitting a faint glow, Tyron licked his slightly chapped lips.

"Good deeds are rewarded; the ancients were right."

If it weren't for helping Old Jack, he wouldn't have been able to get the "Magic Assassination Technique." Without the skill, he wouldn't be able to complete all the daily quests every day, and therefore wouldn't have been able to upgrade his monthly card so quickly.

This is a perfect closed loop.

"So now..."

Tyrion took out a "Wizard's Experience Book," which contained a full 1000 points of universal experience. He used it directly!