Never Sign Contracts Carelessly

Du Pont's throat was so dry it felt like it was on fire, but he merely closed his eyes, endured it, and continued sleeping.

He had accompanied the client party singing until after two in the morning last night. Today, he intended to sleep in properly and get up before lunch.

As a construction worker who had made deputy project manager by his third year, slacking off a little when he had a good reason barely counted as anything. He refused to believe that the young accountant, who was now even darker from the sun than he was, would seize on his attendance record to dock his pay.

But sleep did not come. Instead, something like piercing wails flashed past his ears, while an unpleasant rusty smell filled his nostrils.

Du Pont's heart began pounding uncontrollably.

Was a female ghost coming for him? But the thirsty bunch of guys under him could fantasize about even Auntie Lonely Smoke. They were no pushovers. If she dared come alone, they would definitely teach her how the words "utter misery" were written.

Just as he was about to go back to sleep, Du Pont suddenly sensed that something was wrong.

This smelled like blood.

With that thought, he abruptly opened his eyes.

Could those heartless bastards have slacked off again, ignored the safety regulations, and caused an accident?

His dorm was several hundred meters from the construction site. If the smell had drifted all the way here, wouldn't this end up on the news?

Du Pont hurriedly reached for the phone beside his pillow, but there was nothing there. Even the ceiling before his eyes had become wooden.

The site dormitories would never be extravagant enough to use premium timber nearly half a meter wide for the ceiling. Easily installed and dismantled prefabricated steel-sheet dorms were the usual setup.

The room was small. Its four walls were pieced together from dark wooden boards, and the traces of time had left cracks of varying depths across the grain.

There was little furniture inside. Several handwritten books and sheets of parchment were piled on two wooden tables. An ink bottle and quill pen had been casually placed by the window, while several drops of freshly dried ink remained on the tabletop.

A birdcage hung from the corner of a nearby bookshelf, but it was empty. Instead, a plump gray bird with quite a few spots around its neck was sleeping soundly in a flowerpot under the sunlight.

When it noticed his gaze, the fat bird seemed to sense something. It opened its tiny bead-like eyes, tilted its head, and let out three "coo, coo, coo" calls that rose from low to high.

Breathing in the fresh air that absolutely did not belong on a construction site, and looking at the poorly made linen undershirt on his body, along with his excessively pale skin and vanished beer belly, Du Pont arrived at the most likely explanation.

Damn it, had he transmigrated?

The hands of the clock on the wall both pointed at twelve. The bright, warm sunlight ought to belong to the transition between spring and summer. Du Pont wiped the blood from his nostrils with the palm-sized round mirror on the table.

The youth in the mirror had sickly pale skin, slightly sunken cheeks, faintly purple lips, and black hair that curled a little as it hung beside his ears. That handsome face, which looked remarkably like a younger Keanu Reeves, forced Du Pont to admit one fact helplessly.

Fine. He really had transmigrated.

He might never see his friends and family again. He had also lost cheap, easily accessible pleasures like his computer and the internet, while the position he had worked so hard to attain had gone down the drain.

He had not cleared his browsing history on his computer. He could only hope whoever took over after him had a tight mouth, would not be shocked by his tastes, and could preserve his innocence.

After mourning for a while, Du Pont began considering his current situation.

The young man whose body he had entered was also named Du Pont. That was the greatest similarity between them.

Unlike the fashionable name his father on Earth had chosen, Du Pont was merely an ordinary surname in this world.

Still, the Du Pont family had some spare money. His father seemed to be a low-ranking noble who had pulled strings and spent money to send him to this Mage Academy, where he became a glorious apprentice mage.

The kind who could rub lightning out of his hands and throw fireballs.

But before Du Pont could test whether he could cast magic, a transparent panel appeared before him.

Age: 14

Race: Human

Class: Level 2 Mage

Experience Points: 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 (Proficient), Elvish (Beginner), Draconic (Learning)

Status: Moderate Malnutrition (Strength -2, Constitution -2), Head Injury (Constitution -2)

Spell Specialization: School of Transmutation spells, Necromancy spells

Feat: Scribe Scroll (You can copy spells you have learned onto scrolls. Current success rate: 40% for first-circle spells, 60% for cantrips.)

Tenacious: You were born physically strong and gain additional hit points.

Construction Mage Mastery: You are a specialized School of Construction mage. You can learn construction-related spells (including the School of Transmutation and Necromancy) and golem techniques one circle early, but the power of reduced-circle spells and the quality of crafted items are reduced by 30%.

When you cast using a spell slot matching the spell's level, that spell is automatically heightened by one level. This can stack with other metamagic schools.

Cantrips: Message, Mage Hand, Light Spell, Repair Building, Repair Construct

First-Circle Spells: Mage Armor, Shield, Grease, Expeditious Retreat, Animate Skeleton Servant

Magical Techniques: School of Construction (Beginner), Golemology (Beginner), Engineering (Beginner), Necromancy (Beginner)

Property: 6 Silver Coins, 90 Copper Coins, 8 blank first-circle parchments, 2 Expeditious Retreat spell scrolls, 2 Mage Armor scrolls, steel dagger, 1 turtledove messenger.

Description: Your potential is fairly good, but why did your parents not have you become a paladin and instead enroll you as a mage? This is clearly a question worth pondering.

Seeing this, Du Pont immediately relaxed. He had a system. That was genuinely good news.

But ten minutes later, Du Pont was speechless.

He had no idea how to activate the system at all, nor did it seem inclined to issue quests. After studying it for a long time, he only discovered that it could inspect item information.

Wooden Cup: An utterly ordinary poplar cup. It can hold 350 milliliters of liquid and is worth five Copper Coins.

That was all.

Unable to make sense of it for the moment, Du Pont could only try to analyze some useful information.

He vaguely had some answers regarding spells. This was extremely similar to the Dungeons & Dragons tabletop campaigns he had played before. But as a construction worker, his time had never been very free, and the campaigns he joined always ended because someone flaked. Few ever reached a proper conclusion.

But what the hell was a School of Construction mage? Why had he still ended up studying civil engineering after transmigrating?

In a sense, this was a good thing, but no matter how he looked at it, his identity only counted as that of a half-baked technician.

The kind without an official position.

It reminded Du Pont of his first year after entering the construction site.

During inspections, he was the safety officer. When pouring concrete, he was the construction supervisor. When patching up paperwork, he was the document clerk. When laying out and surveying, he was the technician. When assigning workers, he was the foreman. When making plans and buying materials, he was the materials officer. When signatures were needed, he was company management. When money was due, it was delayed again and again. When something went wrong, he was the first person held responsible.

If he had not quickly figured out how to handle things, and if his family had not possessed the tiniest bit of connections, he probably would have quit and run away before making it to his second year.

But fortune and misfortune went hand in hand. After transmigrating, he had become much younger, and he was even a promising candidate for a mage-paladin?

Yet right now, he had nothing to do with the glamorous image of a great mage. His dorm was about as shabby as housing for migrant workers at a construction site.

Two rough wooden beds, a set of polished old table and chairs, and a dust-covered bookshelf were all the belongings there were.

He walked to the window. It was assembled from several thin wooden strips, and through the glass he could see an elegant courtyard paved with marble slabs. Occasionally, students dressed in robes walked past with enormous, heavy books tucked under their arms.

They hurried along, without even anyone to chat with.

Drawing back his gaze, the most valuable things in the room were probably on the bookshelf. It was packed with handwritten tomes, and the titles on their spines were bold and upright.

But while the script looked familiar to Du Pont, he could not really understand it.

His memories were somewhat incomplete. He probably needed time to review them before he could recognize the writing.

But what the hell were Elvish and Draconic? This little brat was only fourteen and already had to learn two foreign languages?

That was way too intense.

At that thought, he could not help shivering. He touched the flat coin pouch at his waist.

With only six Silver Coins to his name, it seemed he would not last long at this academy.

But he still had several completed scrolls in his pocket. Those were definitely hard currency that could be sold for money, so how had he ended up malnourished?

Just as Du Pont was pondering this, someone knocked on the door. A crisp female voice came from outside. "Du Pont, are you there? We should go, or it won't be good if we're late."

"Coming."

When he opened the door, he saw a long-ponytailed girl with a somewhat youthful face, dressed in robes and small leather shoes.

She was not particularly beautiful, but her smile was sweet. The youthful air unique to a young girl, paired with her crescent-shaped eyes, made her especially pleasant to look at. The bronze nameplate engraved with Annie on her chest glittered in the sunlight. "How was your lunch break today? Or were you copying scrolls again?"

"Not bad," Du Pont replied vaguely. He glanced at her, vaguely feeling that he had caught something important, but his gaze could not help drifting downward.

The students here actually wore stockings. White ones, too.

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

"Then you should hurry. It gets dark before seven now, and using candles costs money besides not working very well." As she spoke, she looked at Du Pont. "If I remember correctly, you've only copied four scrolls this week. The day after tomorrow is Saturday. Can you finish the quota of ten scrolls by then?"

"..." Hearing that, Du Pont finally understood why the completed scrolls in his pocket could not be used to improve his life.

So these things could not be sold. He had to submit a fixed amount every week. Coupled with his success rate of around fifty percent...

"What happens if I can't turn in enough?"

"We're already third-year apprentices. If you can't even handle something this small, the first time is a warning, the second time is disciplinary action, and the third time means expulsion." The girl beside him looked at him strangely. "If the pressure is really too much, you can buy a few from other students. I remember those Netherese students sell them fairly cheaply, and the teachers have never investigated where the scrolls actually came from."

Then she seemed to recall something. "What, are you thinking of graduating early? But apprentices at our level have a hard time finding work. Even if you become an adventurer, I'm afraid no party would want you. According to the surveys, more than half of mage apprentices who join adventuring parties die. The risk is very high."

"The death rate is that high?" Du Pont was startled. This was more dangerous than going down a well to retrieve a drill bit. "Seriously?"

"Every year, half of newly formed adventuring parties disappear in the same year they were formed. After all, nobody has much real combat experience. Once we fall into danger, apprentices like us have weak self-preservation abilities, so naturally the death rate is high."

The girl pursed her lips. "I remember you don't even know Burning Hands. Without an area-of-effect attack spell, no adventuring party will want you. You should just stay here and study properly. Once you become an official construction mage, the salary is quite good."

Du Pont fell silent after hearing that. Seeing the silent boy, the girl guessed that he was probably in a bad mood and softly comforted him, "If you really can't finish your quota, I'll see whether I can copy an extra one to lend you later. If you work a little harder over the next two days, it should be fine."

"Mm." Du Pont nodded in agreement, but inwardly, he was anxious.

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

He did not have many sheets of parchment on him. If those were expensive, his entire fortune might not even be enough for practice.

But just as Du Pont was tearing his hair out, the system, which had been silent until now, suddenly displayed emotionless text.

Would the user like to activate Toril Mainstream Linguistics? Includes seven categories of widely used languages: Common Tongue from all human regions, Elvish, Dwarvish, Orcish, Celestial, Infernal, and Draconic. After learning them, reading and writing fluency will greatly improve. Ancient Elvish and Draconic are included.

Seeing this prompt, Du Pont's heart immediately surged with excitement.

So his system was not just a decoration after all.

But just as he agreed, another scroll appeared before his eyes, its contents so obscure that he could not distinguish any of them. He did not recognize a single character on it. In his impression, only Draconic seemed to have symbols that resembled these.

Knowledge will be delivered after the contract is signed, but please abide by the relevant terms of the contract. You will bear the consequences of any breach.

When the system called the thing before him a contract, danger signals immediately flared in Du Pont's heart. Before his eyes appeared the kindly smiles of those old bastards at the bureau when they tricked newly arrived graduates into signing papers to become responsible persons.

"What are the terms of this contract?"

"Would the user like to sign? You have ten seconds to decide whether to sign. When the countdown ends, it will be considered a refusal, and the contract will be voided. Countdown begins: 10, 9, 8."

Du Pont's heart sank.

Damn it, it wants me to sign a contract without even giving me some sweet talk first?

Even scam companies gave people a fee for taking the fall as their legal representative. This thing was plainly treating him like some fresh graduate with no social experience!

"6, 5, 4."

Watching the countdown near its end, thinking of his pathetic intelligence and shriveled wallet, Du Pont finally made up his mind. "I'll sign."

Slacking off at work naturally involved reading novels, so he was certainly familiar with systems. If he did not try this thing, he would be the idiot.

As Du Pont answered, his head immediately became dizzy. It was only after quite a while that his vision cleared enough for him to see the girl's frightened face.

Contract complete. Please gather 1,000 Gold Coins within one month to pay the tuition fee for "Toril Mainstream Linguistics." After one month, interest equal to 1% of the principal will be added for each day of delay. If you fail to gather the principal and interest within three months, your soul will no longer belong to you.

Du Pont's vision went dark, and a single thought flashed through his mind.

Weren't system abilities supposed to be free? Why was his a little different?

DND 2nd Edition to 5R rules will be used. Some classic DND webnovel settings will be used, while certain overly simplified 5th Edition settings will not be adopted. There is no level cap.