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

The stench of blood on the Avenue of Truth has not yet dissipated.

The two guards, having received their money, were very efficient. They called in cleaners to clean up the bloodstains and also dispersed the crowd of onlookers.

To them, the death of an apprentice with no connections is as insignificant as the death of a stray dog; as long as someone is responsible for cleaning up the ground, they are happy to have some peace and quiet.

Tyron stood beside the carriage, watching the guards' departing figures, and gently exhaled a breath of stale air.

The pale blue screen on the retina was still flickering.

[Urgent Task: Don't Underestimate a Young Person's Potential]

Phase 1: Kill Hagrid (Completed)

[Rewards have been issued: 1500 experience points, 100 Knowledge Crystals]

Tyron was about to bring up the panel to view the detailed data and plan his next route.

Just then.

"Watch out behind you!!"

A sharp scream suddenly rang out, like a whistle piercing the air.

Tyronn's body reacts faster than his brain.

Without any hesitation, he suddenly exerted force in his waist and performed an extremely awkward but effective tactical roll forward.

call!

A gust of wind swept past the back of his head.

Tyron braced himself with one hand on the ground, quickly turned around, and crouched down in a defensive stance.

Behind where he had been standing, a thug with a fierce face was staggering and falling to the ground.

On the back of that thug was a boy dressed in coarse linen clothes.

The boy was clinging tightly to the thug's waist, clearly having rammed into him with all his might.

A crisp clang.

A sharp boning knife slipped from the thug's hand, bounced twice on the stone pavement, and gleamed with a chilling light.

That was one of Hagrid's four henchmen.

At this moment, the thug pinned to the ground had a ferocious expression on his face, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at Tyron with pity and greed, cursing wildly:

"You damned bastard! I was so close! So close to killing you!!"

Tyron stared at the boning knife that was less than half a meter away from where he had just been standing, and a cold sweat instantly broke out on his back, a chill running straight to the top of his head.

Careless.

We were really careless.

He thought that killing the bandit leader Hagrid, intimidating everyone, and dealing with the guards would be the end of it.

He thought these lackeys, now that the tree has fallen, would scatter and flee like startled cockroaches.

But he forgot that this was a cannibalistic wizarding world.

Tyron suddenly looked up, his gaze sweeping like a knife over the three other thugs who were making a move not far away.

"Are you all here to die too?!"

This low growl carried the lingering power of the recent killing and an undisguised murderous intent.

The three thugs froze instantly when Tyron's cold gaze swept over them, their movements, which were originally intended to coordinate a sneak attack, were instantly frozen.

They exchanged a glance, looked at their defeated companion on the ground, and without saying a word, turned and disappeared into the intricate alleyways nearby.

They disappeared in the blink of an eye.

With his malnourished little body, Tyron couldn't catch up even if he wanted to.

He took a deep breath, forcibly calming his wildly beating heart.

"Damn it, I really underestimated these lowlife scum who value money over their lives."

Tyron silently reflected on his actions, his fingers unconsciously rubbing his cuffs.

"That's true, these thugs are a bunch of ungrateful wretches."

"When Hagrid was alive, they were dogs; when Hagrid died, they became wolves."

"Now that I have the opportunity to curry favor with those wealthy and powerful core apprentices, how could I possibly be intimidated just because I killed someone?"

For desperados, the greater the risk, the greater the reward.

As long as you kill Tyron, you can go to that young lady Jane to collect your reward and rise to prominence.

"You must be absolutely careful in this regard from now on! Even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit; you must never be so arrogant and careless again."

Just as Tyron was reflecting on his actions, a timid voice sounded from the side.

"Brother Magnus... thank you for saving me just now."

"Otherwise, my brother and I would probably have been killed by Hagrid."

Tyron turned his head.

The speaker was a girl who looked about fifteen or sixteen years old.

She was wearing a faded gray dress, her face was covered in dust, and there were tear stains in the corners of her eyes, making her look pitiful.

When Hagrid drove over just now, it seemed he was chasing after these two people.

If they hadn't been in his way, the brother and sister would probably have been captured by Hagrid by now.

"Um."

Tyron's expression softened slightly, and he nodded: "You're welcome. I also owe a lot to your brother for reminding and helping me just now."

If it weren't for that boy's collision, I would probably have my head split open by the boning knife by now.

Tyron walked up to the thug who was pinned to the ground.

The boy had already stood up, panting, but he still held onto the thug's wrist tightly to prevent him from suddenly attacking.

Tyron looked down at the thugs on the ground, a hint of murderous intent flashing in his eyes.

However, the thug did not show the slightest fear.

He lay on the ground, grinning to reveal a set of yellowed teeth, his expression ferocious and defiant.

"Heh heh... What? You want to kill me?"

The thug spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, staring at Tyron with contempt:

"You just killed Hagrid."

"If you don't want to cause trouble, and don't want to be arrested and thrown into the dark dungeon by those guards who keep returning, you can kill me too."

"Come on! Do you dare?"

The thug stared intently into Tyron's eyes, as if he could see right through him:

"You're just a penniless wretch out to collect corpses. Don't think I don't know where you got that bag of money from when you gave the guards—it's money from above for collecting corpses!"

"If you kill me now, will you still have the money to deal with those soldiers?"

Hearing this, Tyron's expression remained unchanged, but he felt quite helpless inside.

That scoundrel is right.

The killing of Hagrid just now was a "duel" in full view of everyone, a "self-defense counterattack".

But now, the other party has been subdued and has no ability to resist.

If action were taken at this point, it would be "execution," or murder.

The nature of them is completely different.

More importantly, his wallet really couldn't withstand any more losses.

The 200 purple gold coins he just mentioned were already the limit he could reach while cutting costs.

Killing another one would not only cost money, but could also lead to being taken away for investigation for various reasons, delaying Professor Markley's mission. That would be a real loss.

This damned, low-level wisdom.

These thugs may not understand magic, but they have a better grasp of loopholes in the rules and weaknesses in human nature than anyone else.

Tyron took a deep breath, suppressing the murderous intent in his heart.

He bent down, picked up the sharp boning knife from the ground, glanced at the boy who was pinning down the thug, and did not intend to go closer to punish the thug further.

What if these two are in cahoots and it's all a ruse?

"I'll remember you."

Tyron's eyes were icy cold as he looked at the thug as if he were looking at a corpse.

"Get out!"

Upon hearing this, the boy who had been subduing the thug silently released his grip and stepped aside.

The thug got up from the ground and dusted himself off.

He muttered a curse under his breath, his face contorted with resentment. He glared at the boy for a moment, his hopes of getting rich just vanished!

He then turned and left quickly, filled with resentment.

Watching the thugs leave, the boy who saved Tyron muttered a curse under his breath:

"These damn bastards... do they really think they can bully us?"

Then, he turned around, straightened his disheveled clothes, and walked respectfully to Tyrion, bowing deeply in greeting.

"Thank you for your help, Brother Magnus. If you hadn't killed Hagrid, my sister and I would have suffered terribly today."

The boy spoke sincerely, his eyes filled with gratitude and awe.

Tyron sized up the boy in front of him.

With his blond buzz cut and high nose, he was somewhat thin, but the explosive power he displayed when he knocked over the thugs was quite impressive.

Moreover, they are grateful and courageous.

Tyron had a good impression of the boy who had just saved his life.

In this cold and indifferent wizard tower, such camaraderie and mutual assistance are all the more precious.

"You're welcome."

Tyron smiled gently, raised his hand, and placed it on the boy's shoulder, as if he were treating a friend worth making:

"Making a living in this outer ring area is not easy."

"By the way, why did Hagrid target you? If you need any help..."

Tyron hadn't finished speaking.

A sudden change occurred.

The moment Tyronn's hand touched the boy's shoulder, the boy, who had been all respect and tears of gratitude, suddenly changed his expression.

That gratitude vanished instantly, replaced by a chilling madness and resolve.

Snapped!

The boy suddenly reached out and grabbed Tyron's left arm, which was resting on his shoulder.

His strength was astonishing; his fingernails even dug deep into Tyrone's flesh.

Immediately afterwards, the boy turned his head and roared at the girl beside him with all his might:

"Sister! Do it now!!!"

"I've got his enchanted hand under control! Kill him!!!"

That roar shattered all the tenderness and affection.

Tyron's pupils dilated sharply.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the girl who had been standing to the side, looking pitiful and harmless, now had no trace of fragility on her face.

Her expression was twisted and ferocious, and her eyes flashed with a ferocity beyond her years.

Swish!

The girl pulled out a boning knife that she had hidden under her skirt with such practiced skill that it was appalling.

Without the slightest hesitation, she gripped the knife with both hands and, using the momentum, stabbed Tyron in the unsuspecting side of his waist!

This knife strike went straight for the kidney, a vital organ!

Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

Tyron looked at the brother and sister who worked together so well, and at the murderous intent and greed that were almost overflowing in their eyes.

stunned.

Heartache.

And... a deep, icy chill.

He thought he had met a fellow victim, and that he had met a kind person who would repay kindness.

As it turned out, he encountered only two hungry wolves in sheep's clothing.

Their warning and rescue earlier weren't for saving him at all, but for this sneak attack! To monopolize the bounty for killing him!

"How... pathetic!"

The last glimmer of hope in Tyron's heart was completely extinguished.

Instead, absolute rationality and cruelty prevailed.

Just as the boning knife was about to pierce his robe.

hum!

Tyronn's right hand was then covered by the Magic Thorn spell.

His experience of living two lives has made him quite adept at summarizing lessons: after seeing that thug was still preparing to launch a sneak attack, no one can be completely trusted.

Therefore, he instinctively maintained a basic level of vigilance towards the brother and sister.

"roll!"

Tyronn let out a low growl.

Then, his right arm, faster and more powerful than the girl's, swung out.

puff!

It's like a hot knife slicing through cheese.

The girl's arms, which were gripping the boning knife and about to pierce Tyron's body, were neatly severed at the elbow.

The severed arm, still gripping the knife tightly, flew off due to inertia and crashed to the ground with a clatter.

Fresh blood gushed out instantly.

"Aaaaaah!!!"

The girl froze for a second, then let out a heart-wrenching scream.

She clutched her bare, severed arm, staggered backward, and her face turned deathly pale.

The ear-piercing screams and spraying blood once again echoed along the Avenue of Truth.

The passersby who had just dispersed were once again drawn to the scene.

This time, however, they merely glanced at it indifferently, their eyes showing little surprise, but rather a numb "I knew it" attitude.

It seems they had anticipated this plot twist.

"younger sister!!!"

Upon seeing this, the boy who had grabbed Tyron's arm let out a desperate roar.

His face was filled with heartache and anger, as if Tyrion were the treacherous demon.

"I'm going to kill you!!!"

The boy did not back down because his plan failed.

He released Tyron's arm, pulled a dagger from his waist, and stabbed at Tyron's neck like a madman.

Faced with the boy's attack.

Tyron remained expressionless, his right hand slicing through the air in a graceful arc.

brush!

A flash of cold light.

The boy's right arm, which was holding the knife, was neatly severed from the shoulder.

Immediately afterwards, Tyron raised his foot and kicked the boy hard in the chest.

Unfortunately, Tyronn's physical attributes weren't much better than his opponent's.

After taking a few steps back, the boy lost his balance due to the loss of an arm and sat down helplessly on the ground.

The battle ended even faster than it began.

at this time.

The boy, who had lost an arm, was in so much pain that the veins on his forehead bulged and he was covered in cold sweat.

But he ignored his injuries.

He gritted his teeth, supporting his body with his only remaining left hand, and like a dog with a broken spine, desperately crawled toward the girl who was crying in pain and rolling on the ground.

"Little sister...bear with it...I'll stop the bleeding for you..."

The boy tore strips of cloth from the girl's clothes with his teeth and frantically tried to bandage her wounds, his tears mingling with blood as they dripped onto the ground.

Tyron stood there, watching this contradictory and ironic scene unfold.

His brows were furrowed.

Why are you doing this?

Tyron asked in a low voice, his tone revealing a hint of barely concealed disgust.

He hates seeing this scene the most.

If you're going to be bad, then be bad to the very end.

Don't engage in murder, robbery, and treachery while simultaneously feigning familial affection and life-or-death bonds.

Why pretend to be innocent? Why pretend to be a victim?

Upon hearing Tyron's words, the boy who was trying to stop his sister's bleeding suddenly looked up.

His face was as pale as paper, but his eyes burned with a chilling hatred and desire.

"Why bother? You ask me why I should?!"

The boy roared through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse and shrill:

"Not everyone is like you! Not everyone can gain a mentor's favor! Not everyone has magical talent!"

"We people at the bottom... if we don't fight tooth and nail, if we don't climb up by any means necessary, we'll just rot in the mud!"

"Do you know what kind of life we've been living for the past six months?"

"Do you know how many times I've been beaten? Do you know how many times my sister has been violated and abused by men like Hagrid in the past six months?!"

The boy pointed at the girl beside him, who was on the verge of fainting from the pain, his face filled with desire and greed:

"If we kill you... if we kill you, we'll get a sum of money! That man named Tom promised us!"

"If we kill you, we'll be qualified to be dogs for those core apprentices!"

"This is our only chance to change our destiny! Our only chance!"

The boy's voice grew softer and softer, seemingly due to excessive blood loss, and his eyes began to glaze over.

"If we can become the dogs of those rich young masters and ladies... we can use our masters' power to kill all those who bully us..."

"Kill them all..."

At this moment, the girl, pale-faced, leaned against the boy, staring blankly at the sky, muttering to herself:

"Brother... I'm tired..."

"I want to go home... I miss my parents..."

People come and go on the road of truth.

Most passersby who saw this scene simply frowned, covered their noses with disgust, and left quickly, finding the smell of blood too strong.

No one sympathized with the brother and sister.

No one blamed Tyronn either.

This is the law of survival in Lion City.

The law of the jungle prevails; the winner takes all.

Tyron stood in the pool of blood, silent for a few seconds.

Then, he slowly took off his outer linen robe.

The robes were stained with the blood of Hagrid, the boy, and the girl, and their original color was no longer visible.

After taking off his robe, he revealed the apprentice's uniform underneath, which, although somewhat old, was only stained with a small amount of blood.

Tyron walked expressionlessly to the roadside, picked up all the boning knives and daggers scattered on the ground, and threw them onto his carriage.

These are all ironware; they can't be sold for much money.

Then, he folded the blood-stained robe and placed it under the body in the car to prevent it from being blown away by the wind.

After doing all this, he sat back on the carriage shaft and pulled the reins.

He didn't look at the brother and sister again.

There was no follow-up attack.

There are no dead people now, two living people are there, and he doesn't need to take responsibility for what happens next.

As for whether the brother and sister are alive or dead, whether they will be retaliated against by their enemies, or whether they will die from excessive blood loss...

He wasn't interested in knowing.

"drive!"

The old horse spurred its horse forward, and the cart slowly started moving, rolling over the bloodstains on the ground as it headed towards the White Cloud Eye Rune Shop.

The sun was still shining brightly, illuminating Tyron's young face.

But those eyes held an unprecedented coldness and hardness.

Through today's events, Tyron has truly come to realize the cruelty and madness of this world.

Here, humanity is a luxury, and conscience is a burden.

Those at the bottom of society are willing to abandon everything, even turn their knives on the very person who just saved them, just for the chance to be a dog for the rich.

Or rather, in that scene just now, Hagrid, his brother, and the siblings who were used as bait all had their own schemes, each hoping to reap the benefits.

If it weren't for his experience of living two lives, if it weren't for his restraint in upholding human nature at the last moment...

The one lying on the ground bleeding profusely right now is probably Tyron Magnus.

"Be careful from now on. In my previous life, the wickedness of people mainly stemmed from their scheming and greed for your money. This godforsaken place is more like a knife to the heart, meant to take your life..."

Tyron thought to himself, then pulled a piece of dry, hard black bread from his pocket and took a big bite.

The exertion he had just consumed made him feel a little hungry.

It tasted awful, a mixture of stinky socks and blood, but he chewed it with great effort.

Only by surviving can one have the right to talk about the future.