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

After completing the surgical procedure simulation, it was already 10 PM.

The excruciating pain, as if his brain had been hollowed out and countless red-hot steel needles were churning inside, made it almost impossible for him to maintain his sitting posture.

"This damn low-magic constitution..."

Wizards have a limit to the amount of magic they can wear down; if their brains consume too much magic each day, it will damage their bodies.

It's like a gun barrel overheating after firing too many bullets.

However, this situation is more pronounced for level 0 wizards.

He cursed under his breath and collapsed onto the hard bed covered with hay, like a puppet with its strings cut.

Close your eyes, and you'll have a blackout.

Twenty minutes later.

Tyron suddenly opened his eyes, his pupils showing no trace of sleepiness, only a sharp clarity like a scalpel.

The 30-fold recovery efficiency of the "Slacking Off Body" allowed him to achieve the recovery effect that an ordinary person needs to achieve in ten hours of deep sleep in just fifteen minutes.

He sat up, stretched his neck, and made a series of cracking sounds.

By the bright candlelight, he looked at the pile of bone fragments he had carved into the table, and then at his own hands, which, though long, were somewhat rough.

"The craft must not be lost."

Tyron picked up a fragment of scapula and ran his fingertips along the crack on it caused by excessive force.

"You can't do a job you're not qualified for."

"The current boning knife is not hard enough, and although the magic stabbing technique is sharp, its duration is too short and it consumes too much energy."

"Practicing without a suitable carving knife will only waste materials and time."

He casually tossed the bone fragment back into the basket, and with a thought, brought up his attribute panel.

[Name: Tyron Arthas Magnus]

[Rank: Level 0 Apprentice]

[Physical Fitness: 1]

【Spirit: 3.6】

[Magic Control: 7.666]

[Spell: Summoning and Domination Technique (7666/10)]

[Skill: Magic Spikes Lv.2 (137/200)]

[Knowledge: Rune Literature Level 0.2]

Looking at the rapidly increasing data, Tyronn's lips curled into a self-deprecating smile.

"His mental strength is increasing rapidly, but his physical constitution is still terrible."

"It's like putting a Ferrari engine on a tractor; it'll fall apart sooner or later."

"and……"

His gaze fell on the empty money bag.

"money."

"Although the monthly card gave me a huge amount of experience and resources, those things were either tied to something or were shady."

"It can't give me ready-made gold coins, nor can it give me a high-energy nutritious meal that I can directly stuff into my stomach."

"With the Demon Thorn Technique, I now have offensive capabilities, which is a game-changer against those low-level apprentices who can only throw wild punches."

"But my defense is practically zero. If I'm ambushed or attacked from a distance, my small frame is no match for a fireball."

"The 'Dominate Bones' rune can solve the defense problem and even give me protection similar to an exoskeleton armor."

"But the prerequisite is that I have to grind up my rune literature level."

"And training runes requires a lot of practice materials. That is, money."

This is a perfect vicious cycle.

To become stronger, you need money; to make money, you need to become stronger.

"call……"

Tyron let out a long breath, temporarily suppressing the anxieties about poverty that were swirling in his mind.

He walked to the table and spread out the hundred expensive sheets of rune paper.

This is currently his only legitimate source of income.

Pick up the brush, dip it in ink, and begin writing.

With his thinking accelerated 30 times, his hands remained as steady as a rock.

Every line falls precisely in its place, without the slightest tremor or deviation.

Ten minutes later.

One hundred perfect rune frames were neatly stacked on the corner of the table.

"Hopefully, Arles can step up their game tomorrow and get me more orders."

"If the Wine Gang can't handle the demand, I'll have to try my luck at other magic rune shops."

After doing all this, Tyron did not rest.

He walked to the cleaning area of ​​the morgue and began to process the three bodies that were to be handed over the next day.

Two adults and one baby.

He meticulously washed away the blood and dirt from the corpse, stitched up the wounds with needle and thread, and even dressed the poor baby in a clean little outfit.

"Product quality is always the core competitive advantage."

The body was disposed of in just five minutes.

Tyron returned to the table and pulled out the thick, brick-like book, "Fundamentals of Alchemy: Material Handling and Solvent Proportioning."

This book has a whopping 600 pages and is so heavy that it could not only kill a person, but also crush brain cells.

He stayed up all night last night and barely managed to memorize the first 200 pages.

But after a day of intense mental work, the 200 pages of content have started to blur, looking like a lump of paste.

"Reviewing the old helps one understand the new."

Tyron gave a wry smile, and then, with the blessing of the Slacking-Off Holy Body, he became like a tireless scanner, re-scanning the contents of the first 200 pages into his brain for reinforcement and indexing.

Then, I started tackling new content.

"The extraction of mercurywort requires a constant temperature of 70 degrees Celsius..."

"The thickness of mandrake root slices should not exceed 0.5 millimeters..."

Boring, tedious, and inhumane.

Tyronn saw it as a very difficult situation, but he had no choice.

It was just like those late nights I spent frantically doing practice questions before the college entrance exam.

Because he knew that these dry words were the ladder to truth and wealth.

……

As the first rays of dawn pierced through the basement vent and shone on Tyron's slightly pale face.

He closed the book.

"Alchemy... it really isn't something humans can learn."

Tyron rubbed his throbbing temples, feeling like his brain was about to boil.

Even with 30 times the efficiency boost, he only progressed 100 pages that night.

This level of knowledge density is ten times more insane than the postgraduate entrance exam in my previous life.

After a quick wash, I went out.

After hastily shoveling down a couple of mouthfuls of oatmeal porridge that tasted like paste in the cafeteria, Tyron pulled up the familiar flatbed cart, loaded with three sealed boxes, and headed towards the main tower of the Wizard's Tower.

7:30 a.m.

Tyron arrived at the door of his private classroom on the 17th floor right on time.

Push open the door.

The morning sunlight streamed into the classroom, and the air was filled with a faint scent of violets.

Professor Markley was standing by the window, holding a cup of black tea.

Standing beside him was the proud senior sister, Zi Xing.

She was still wearing her signature purple silk dress and a pointed wizard's hat, exuding a sharp yet elegant aura.

The two seemed to be talking about something, but stopped when they saw Tyron come in.

Tyron immediately put down the cart, straightened his robes, and strode forward.

He first faced Macley, bowed deeply, and performed a standard apprentice's salute:

Good morning, mentor. May the light of truth forever illuminate your path.

Then, he turned to Zi Xing and bowed respectfully in the same manner:

Good morning, Senior Sister Zixing. Your beauty makes even the morning sunlight pale in comparison.

The movements were fluid and flawless.

Zi Xing raised her chin, her pale purple eyes sweeping over Tyron, her tone carrying a hint of nonchalance:

"How's the preparation of the body going?"

"I have successfully completed my mission."

Tyron turned around and opened the three boxes.

"As per your request: Pure Spirit, Drug Carrier, Depleted Shell."

The lid of the box was opened.

There was no odor or filth.

The three bodies lay quietly on the velvet cushions, clean and tidy as if they were asleep.

Especially the baby, whose skin was wiped clean and pink, and who was dressed in a pure white dress, looked like an exquisite doll.

Zi Xing stepped forward and examined it carefully.

A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes when she saw the "depleted shell".

Such corpses, drained dry by evil spirits, are extremely difficult to preserve and usually decompose rapidly due to the collapse of their spiritual structure.

But this body was not only intact, even the grayish-white color of the skin was preserved extremely well.

"good."

Zi Xing nodded, a rare smile of satisfaction appearing on her face.

"To be able to gather all of this in such a short time and handle it so cleanly... it seems you really put your heart into it."

With a casual wave of her hand, three skeleton servants suddenly appeared and began to dispose of the corpse.

"I'll handle the rest. You may leave."

"Yes, Senior Sister."

Tyron respectfully stepped back.

Just then, Macley put down his teacup and waved to Tyron.

"Magnus, come here for a second."

Tyron's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly walked to the window.

Markley looked out the window at the bustling college avenue, his voice calm yet carrying a profound meaning:

"I have finished explaining things regarding Jane and Tom."

"They won't cause you any more trouble openly."

Tyron immediately bowed his head: "Thank you for your protection, mentor."

"but……"

Markley abruptly changed the subject, turning around to look intently at Tyron:

"To avoid unnecessary conflicts later, and to prevent them from using this as an excuse to target you in class... Starting today, you can no longer attend classes here."

After he finished speaking, he quietly observed Tyron's expression.

This was a test.

Test the young man's character, and see if he will feel resentful for losing this hard-won opportunity.

A perfectly timed hint of disappointment did indeed flash in Tyron's eyes.

That's an instinctive reaction to the thwarted desire for knowledge.

But he quickly recovered.

He bowed deeply again, his tone devoid of any dissatisfaction, but rather filled with gratitude and understanding:

"The student understands."

"Thank you to my mentor for protecting me."

MacLehley raised an eyebrow and asked casually, "You...you must be blaming me, right?"

"After all, this is your only chance to access higher-level knowledge."

Tyron raised his head, his eyes clear and open.

He shook his head, a bitter yet rational smile appearing on his lips:

"How could I blame you? This is your protection of me, and also a form of love for me."

"To those noble young masters and ladies, for a lowly apprentice like me, covered in the stench of corpses, to appear in this classroom is like a muddy stray dog ​​suddenly barging into their luxurious living room."

"My very presence makes them feel physically uncomfortable and offended."

"You're preventing me from taking classes here to isolate me from them and prevent them from finding more reasons and excuses to attack me."

"This is a great wisdom in caring for me."

Upon hearing these words, Markley couldn't help but curl up his lips.

The admiration in his eyes could no longer be concealed.

"It seems you are a smart and thoughtful child."

I'm glad you understand this.

In this wizarding tower filled with immature and delusional individuals, having an apprentice who has a clear understanding of his own position and can empathize with the difficulties of those in power is truly a blessing.

Mackley patted Tyron on the shoulder and whispered:

"Rest assured, I will not mistreat students who are truly eager for knowledge."

"From now on, every evening at 7:00, I will give you a private lesson through my avatar, just like yesterday."

Upon hearing this, Tyron's face instantly lit up with ecstatic joy.

His voice trembled with excitement as he bowed deeply once more.

"Thank you so much, teacher! I...I will repay your kindness with my life!"

This is not acting.

Individual instruction! This is the treatment reserved for a direct disciple!

Markley nodded in satisfaction, then straightened up and got to the point:

"Alright, enough chit-chat."

"Today is the 30th, and the end-of-month audit is about to begin."

"Are there any discrepancies or problems in your accounts?"

Tyron felt a chill run down his spine.

coming.

A look of embarrassment immediately appeared on his face. He scratched his head, like a child who had done something wrong.

"Reporting to my advisor... there is indeed a minor problem."

"The day before yesterday, while collecting the body, we encountered a group of troublesome mercenaries."

"In order to snatch that high-quality corpse, I... I spent 98 purple gold coins beyond the limit."

"I haven't had time to settle the accounts for this money yet..."

That's obviously nonsense; he used that 98 yuan of public funds to buy monthly subscriptions.

Markley hummed in response, his expression remaining unchanged.

For him, 98 gold coins were just the price of an afternoon tea.

"98 isn't a lot, I'll give you the rest in a bit."

Markley said calmly, with a hint of warning in his tone:

"However, I need to be more careful when spending money in the future."

"Make a budget in advance and learn to plan."

"If you really need it, I can approve extra money for you. But I absolutely will not allow you to always come back to tell me afterward that you don't have enough money."

"That's a sign of incompetence."

Tyron immediately understood Macley's deeper meaning.

This is setting rules for him, but also delegating authority.

In the future, tasks involving financial authority will be gradually handed over to him, but only if he demonstrates sufficient control.

"Please rest assured, Professor!"

Tyronn nodded respectfully, his eyes resolute.

"This will absolutely not happen again. I will prepare a detailed budget for you to review."

Markley nodded in satisfaction.

Then, his expression turned serious, even somewhat solemn.

"Also, you need to be careful from now on."

"Due to the policy changes mentioned above, the quotas for corpse-collecting apprentices and the resources for corpses among the official wizards within the Wizard Tower will be redistributed."

Upon hearing this, Tyron's heart skipped a beat.

He's all too familiar with this kind of rhetoric.

In my past life at the company, whenever my clients mentioned "policy changes" or "resource restructuring" with heavy expressions, it usually meant just four words...

Reduce costs and increase efficiency.

"It seems that a bloodbath is about to sweep through the interior of the wizard tower."

Tyron thought to himself.