Contracts Should Not Be Signed Randomly

His throat was as dry as if it were on fire, but Du Pont simply closed his eyes and endured, continuing to sleep.

He hadn't gotten back until after 2 AM last night after entertaining clients with karaoke. He wanted to sleep in today, just waking up before lunch.

As a construction worker who had become a project deputy manager in his third year, taking it easy when he had a reason to wasn't a big deal. He didn't believe that the little finance girl, who was now even more tanned than him, would dock his salary based on his clock-in records.

But before he could fall back asleep, a series of shrill cries flashed through his ears, and a foul, metallic scent filled his nostrils.

This made Du Pont's heart race involuntarily.

Are there ghosts? But the thirsty guys under him, who could even fantasize about Auntie Gu Yan, were not pushovers. If a ghost dared to come alone, they would definitely teach it how to spell "Muzan."

Just as he was about to drift back to sleep, Du Pont suddenly felt something was off.

This smells like blood.

Thinking this, he abruptly opened his eyes.

Could it be that those careless guys were slacking off again and ignoring regulations, causing an accident?

His dorm was hundreds of meters away from the construction site. If the smell had reached him here, wouldn't that mean he was going to be on the news?

Du Pont quickly reached for his phone on the pillow, but there was nothing there. Even the ceiling above him was now made of wood.

The construction site dorms wouldn't be luxurious enough to use such high-quality wood that was nearly half a meter wide for the ceiling. Easy-to-install and remove colored steel panels were their standard practice.

The room wasn't large. The four walls were pieced together from dark wooden planks, and the marks of time had left cracks of varying depths in the wood grain.

There weren't many pieces of furniture in the room. Several handwritten books and parchments were piled on two wooden tables. Ink bottles and quills were casually placed by the window, and there were still a few drops of freshly dried ink on the table.

A birdcage hung in the corner of a bookshelf, but it was empty. Instead, a plump, gray bird with many spots on its neck was sleeping soundly in a flower pot under the sunlight.

Noticing his gaze, the fat bird seemed to sense something. It opened its beady eyes, tilted its head, and made three "coo-coo-coo" sounds, rising in pitch.

Smelling the fresh air that definitely didn't belong to the construction site, and looking at the roughly made linen underwear he was wearing, the overly fair skin, and the vanished beer belly, Du Pont guessed the most likely possibility.

"Damn it, did I transmigrate?"

The hour and minute hands of the wall clock in the room both pointed to 12. The bright, warm sunlight seemed to belong only to the time between spring and summer. Du Pont wiped the blood from his nose with a palm-sized round mirror on the table.

The teenager in the mirror had skin as pale as if he were sick. His thin cheeks were somewhat sunken, his lips were slightly purple, and the black hair that fell to his ears was a bit curly. The handsome face, which resembled a younger version of Keanu Reeves, made Du Pont reluctantly admit a fact.

Okay, he had indeed transmigrated.

He might never see his friends and family again, and he had lost the cheap and easily accessible pleasures of computers and the internet. The hard-earned position he had achieved had also gone down the drain.

The browsing history on his computer hadn't been cleared yet. He could only hope that his successor had a tight lip and wouldn't be shocked by his XP, preserving his innocence.

After reminiscing for a while, Du Pont began to think about his current situation.

He had transmigrated into a young man whose name was also Du Pont. This was the most similar thing between them.

Unlike the trendy name his Earth father had given him, Du Pont was just a common surname in this world.

However, the Du Pont family had some spare money. His father seemed to be a low-level noble, and he had spent money and found people to send him to this Mage Academy to become a glorious Mage apprentice.

The kind who could conjure lightning and fireballs.

But before Du Pont could try to cast magic, a transparent panel appeared before his eyes.

Age: 14 years old
Race: Human
Class: Level 2 Mage
Experience: 400/2000
Attributes: Strength 12 (14-2), Dexterity 12, Constitution 12 (16-4), Intelligence 14, Wisdom 10, Charisma 16
Current Alignment: Neutral Good > Chaotic Good
Languages: Common Tongue (Fluent), Elvish (Basic), Draconic (Learning)
Status: Moderate Malnutrition (Strength -2, Constitution -2), Head Injury (Constitution -2)
Magic Aptitude: School of Transmutation spells, Necromancy spells
Feats: Scribe Scroll (You can scribe the spells you have learned onto scrolls. Current success rate for 1st-level spells is 40%, 0-level spells 60%)
Tough: You were born with a strong physique, gaining extra hit points
Construction Mage Expertise: You are a specially trained School of Architecture Mage. You can learn architecture-related spells (including School of Transmutation and Necromancy) and golem techniques 1 level earlier, but the power of spells and the quality of manufactured items are reduced by 30%.
When you cast a spell using a spell slot that matches the spell's level, the spell is automatically upgraded by 1 level and can be stacked with other metamagic schools.
0-level Spells: Message, Mage Hand, Light Spell, Repair Building, Repair Construct
1st-level Spells: Mage Armor, Shield Spell, Grease, Expeditious Retreat, Animate Skeleton Servant
Magical Skills: Architecture (Beginner), Golemancy (Beginner), Engineering (Beginner), Necromancy (Beginner)
Property: 6 Silver Coins, 90 Copper Coins, 8 Blank 1st-level Parchments, Two Expeditious Retreat Spell Scrolls, Two Mage Armor Spell Scrolls, Steel Dagger, One Messenger Turtledove.
Note: Your potential is not bad, but why your parents didn't let you become a Paladin and instead signed you up as a Mage is clearly a thought-provoking question.

Seeing this, Du Pont immediately felt relieved. He had a System. This was definitely good news.

But ten minutes later, Du Pont was speechless.

The System had absolutely no instructions on how to activate, nor did it seem inclined to issue any quests. After quite some study, all he discovered was that the System could observe item information.

Wooden Cup: A plain, unremarkable poplar wood cup, capable of holding 350ml of liquid. Worth five copper coins.

That was it.

Unable to figure it out for the moment, Du Pont could only try to analyze something useful.

He had a vague idea about spells, which seemed very similar to the Dungeons & Dragons tabletop RPG he used to play. However, as a construction worker, his time wasn't very flexible, and his campaigns always ended with someone flaking out, rarely reaching a conclusion.

But what the hell was a Construction Mage? Why was he still studying civil engineering even after transmigrating?

In some ways, it was a good thing, but no matter how he looked at it, his current identity was only that of a half-baked technician.

An un-tenured one at that.

This couldn't help but remind Du Pont of his first year on the construction site.

During inspections, he was a safety officer; when pouring concrete, he was a construction technician; when compiling documents, he was a data clerk; when laying out lines, he was a surveyor; when arranging work for the laborers, he was a foreman; when submitting plans and buying materials, he was a material handler; when signing documents, he was a company leader; when paying wages, it was always delayed; and when something went wrong, he was the first one held responsible.

If he hadn't quickly figured out what to do, and if he didn't have some connections at home, he probably wouldn't have made it to the second year before packing his bags and running.

But every cloud has a silver lining. After transmigrating, he was much younger, and also a promising Mage/Paladin in the making?

But right now, he had nothing to do with the infinitely glorious image of a Mage. His dormitory was as crude as a worker's shack on a construction site.

Two rough wooden beds, a set of well-worn tables and chairs, and a dusty bookshelf were all the furnishings.

Coming to the window, which was made of several thin strips of wood, he could see the elegant courtyard paved with marble slabs outside through the glass. Occasionally, students in robes would walk by, carrying huge, heavy books.

They were in a hurry, and no one was even chatting.

Withdrawing his gaze, the most valuable things in the room should be on the bookshelf, which was filled with handwritten books, the titles on the spines upright and forceful.

However, Du Pont found the font familiar but difficult to understand.

His memory was a bit fragmented, and he probably needed some time to review before he could recognize these characters.

But what the hell were Elvish and Draconic? Did this fourteen-year-old kid have to learn two foreign languages?

This was too competitive.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but shiver, touching the flat money bag at his waist.

Six silver coins were all he had to his name, which probably wouldn't last long in this academy...

But he still had a few completed scrolls in his pocket, which were definitely hard currency that could be sold. How could he let himself become malnourished?

Just as Du Pont was pondering, he heard a knock on the door, and a clear female voice came from outside: "Du Pont, are you in there? We should go, or we'll be late."

"Coming."

Opening the door, he saw a long-haired ponytail girl with a somewhat immature face, wearing a robe and small leather shoes.

The girl's face wasn't very beautiful, but her smile was sweet. The youthful air unique to girls, combined with her curved eyes, made her very attractive. The copper nameplate engraved with "Annie" on her chest shone brightly in the sunlight: "How was your nap today? Or were you copying scrolls again?"

"Not bad." Du Pont responded vaguely. He glanced at her, vaguely grasping something important in his mind, but his eyes couldn't help but drift downwards.

The students here actually wore stockings, and white ones at that.

"I took a nap. I haven't written any scrolls yet."

"Then you have to hurry. It gets dark before 7 o'clock now. Using candles costs money and the effect isn't good." Saying that, she looked at Du Pont: "In my memory, you've only copied four scrolls this week. Saturday is the day after tomorrow. Will you be able to complete the task of ten scrolls by then?"

"." Hearing this, Du Pont finally knew why he couldn't use the finished scrolls in his pocket to improve his life.

So, he couldn't sell them, and he had an obligation to hand them in every week, coupled with his success rate of about 50%...

"What happens if I can't hand them in?"

"We're already third-year apprentices. If we can't do this little thing well, the first time is a warning, the second time is a punishment, and the third time is expulsion." The girl beside him looked at him strangely: "If you're really under too much pressure, you can buy a few from other students. I remember those Netherese sell them cheaper, and the teacher hasn't investigated where the scrolls came from."

Saying that, she seemed to remember something: "What, do you want to graduate early? But apprentices at our level aren't easy to find jobs. Even if you go to be an adventurer, I'm afraid no team will want you. According to the investigation, the mortality rate of Mage apprentices following adventure teams exceeds half. It's very risky."

"The mortality rate is so high?" Du Pont was a little surprised. This was more dangerous than going down a well to retrieve a drill bit: "Really?"

"Half of the newly formed adventure teams disappear in the year they're formed. After all, everyone doesn't have much practical experience, and when we apprentices are in a dangerous situation, our ability to protect ourselves isn't strong, so the mortality rate is of course very high."

The girl pouted as she spoke: "I remember you don't even know Burning Hands. Without a ranged attack spell, no adventure team will want you. You should still study here peacefully, and the salary will be not low after you become a formal Construction Mage."

Du Pont was silent after hearing this. The girl knew that the boy might not be in a good mood, and comforted him in a low voice: "If you really can't complete the task, I'll try to copy one more for you to borrow later. You should be able to do it if you work harder these two days."

"Okay." Du Pont nodded in agreement, but he was a little anxious inside.

I need time to learn the words of this world. How am I supposed to copy spell scrolls?

He didn't have many parchments on him. If this thing was a little expensive, his wealth wouldn't be enough for practice.

But just as Du Pont was freaking out, the System, which had been silent all along, suddenly issued emotionless characters.

[Does the user want to activate the mainstream linguistics of Toril? Includes the Common Tongue of various human regions, Elvish, Dwarvish, Orcish, Celestial, Infernal, and Draconic, seven categories of common languages. Fluency in reading and writing will be greatly improved after learning. Ancient Elvish and Draconic are incorporated into it.]

Seeing this prompt, Du Pont was immediately extremely excited.

So, his System wasn't just a decoration.

But just as he agreed, a scroll that was so obscure that it was impossible to distinguish appeared in front of him again. He didn't recognize any of the characters on it. In his memory, only Draconic seemed to be related to these symbols.

'Knowledge will arrive after signing the contract, but please abide by the relevant terms of the contract, and you will be responsible for the consequences of any breach.'

When Du Pont heard the System refer to the content in front of him as a contract, a dangerous signal immediately flashed in his mind. He saw before him the kind smiles of those old bastards in the bureau when they tricked newly arrived graduates into signing contracts to become responsible parties.

"What are the contents of this agreement?"

"Please confirm whether the user will sign? You have ten seconds to decide whether to sign. At the end of the countdown, refusal to sign will be assumed, and the contract will be voided. Countdown begins: 10, 9, 8..."

Du Pont couldn't help but feel a chill in his heart after hearing this.

Damn it, they're making me sign a contract without even dangling a carrot in front of me??

Even scam companies give you a benefit fee for taking the blame as the legal representative. This is completely treating me like a graduate with no social experience to fool!

"6, 5, 4..."

Watching the countdown about to end, and thinking about his weak intelligence and empty wallet, Du Pont finally hardened his heart: "I sign."

Slacking off at work naturally involves reading novels, and the System's reputation is naturally well-known. It would be stupid not to try this thing.

As Du Pont spoke, he only felt his head become dizzy. After a while, he finally saw the girl's somewhat frightened face clearly.

'Contract completed. Please gather 1000 Gold Coins within one month to pay for the Toril Mainstream Linguistics course. After one month, each day of delay will increase the principal by 1% interest. If the principal and interest cannot be collected within three months, your soul will no longer belong to you.'

Du Pont's vision went dark after hearing this, and a sentence flashed in his mind.

Aren't System abilities supposed to be free? How is his a little different??

Using DND 2nd edition-5R rules, some classic DND webnovel settings will be used. Some overly simplified 5th edition settings will not be adopted. There is no level cap.