Should I Drop Out?

Dazed, Du Pont watched his body being carried onto a stretcher. He didn't even have the strength to say thank you, but when he saw the kind people helping him, he suddenly felt a chill down below.

They were two pale white skeletons, without a single crack on their bodies. Weak red lights flickered in their dry eye sockets, making one's heart turn cold.

Fortunately, these skeletons were not the undead creatures wandering in the dangerous areas. They simply obeyed the mage's orders to carry Du Pont to the school infirmary. Even the sound of bones rubbing together was absent as they walked, making Du Pont's heart grow cold with the silence.

It seemed that the Mage Academy he was in was not only avant-garde in its subjects but also unconventional in its use of magic, completely lacking the stereotypical impression of necromancy being taboo, as often seen in web novels.

As the door of the infirmary opened, Du Pont was carried into a spacious and bright room. The air was filled with the scent of unknown flowers. The skeletons carried him to a comfortable and soft bed. A realistic oil painting of a huge tree hung on the wall.

Du Pont faintly heard a somewhat nervous intake of breath, but then a steady female voice said, "Don't worry, there are only patients here. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"What you're experiencing isn't that scary. Physiologically, it's called menarche, and it's something every woman experiences as her body matures. It will happen every month afterward. In the future, you only need to keep warm during these days, drink more hot soup, and eat less cold food to reduce abdominal pain. It's not that you have a strange disease."

"Come, drink this cup of hot sugar water and go back to class."

In a daze, Du Pont seemed to see a silver-haired girl quickly leave, and then his name was mentioned.

"Du Pont, right? Are you still conscious?"

"Yes," Du Pont's voice was weak.

"Never mind, stay there and don't move. I'll be right there."

The crisp sound of footsteps fell into his ears, making Du Pont feel a strange sense of nostalgia.

It sounded like the sound of high heels.

Before he could think too much, a pointed-ear beauty in a white robe appeared before him.

Her delicate face didn't have much expression. Her somewhat slender body made her look very beautiful even though she wasn't tall. Her light makeup made her completely different from the girl he had seen before. The silver badge was a bit dazzling, with the name Sophie Morningstar engraved on it.

The only shortcoming was that she seemed to have very heavy dark circles under her eyes, which were obvious even with makeup.

Is she a Half-elf?

Before he could take a closer look, a slightly cool hand lifted his face.

"Coma... blood in the nasal cavity... the body is relatively weak, a bit like heatstroke with a bump on the head." The doctor's voice was a bit cold: "Can you hear me clearly?"

"Yes," Du Pont honestly replied, remembering another important matter.

Perhaps...

"Teacher, there's always a buzzing sound in my head." Du Pont looked at the other person's eyes weakly, his eyes filled with confusion and horror: "I shouldn't have been hit by some powerful curse, and I don't have much time left, right?"

"What are you thinking? Who would use such a powerful curse on an apprentice like you?" The doctor replied casually. She unbuttoned Du Pont's robe and began to examine him in detail. A trace of surprise flashed in her eyes for a moment, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. After two minutes, she replied, "Maybe hitting your head has affected your brain a bit. Rest well and take care of your body for a few days, and it should be fine in a few weeks."

Du Pont breathed a sigh of relief when he heard this, but he seemed to remember something and said in a panic, "But I haven't saved up the scrolls I need to submit this week..."

"I'll write a letter to explain the situation for you." As she spoke, the doctor snapped her fingers, and a tray slowly floated beside her. She picked up the silver pot on the tray and filled the glass on the tray, looking at Du Pont with a meaningful look: "But the academy has regulations. Sick leave can only be applied for one week without special circumstances. Your illness can be solved with Divine Magic. It's impossible to apply for long-term sick leave."

Hearing the female doctor's words, Du Pont knew that his little thoughts had been guessed. However, being able to ask for a week of sick leave was also good. He nodded obediently and drank the hot sugarcane juice in the cup, as if he hadn't heard the doctor's hidden meaning.

"Okay, drink this sugar water and go back to the classroom. Missing one class is a big loss for a third-year apprentice like you. But your body is a bit too weak. You can come to me tomorrow for a more detailed full-body examination. If the situation doesn't improve, you must find a priest to solve it."

"Priest?" Du Pont felt a little unsure when he heard this. In his two sets of memories, there was nothing good associated with religious fanatics.

"Don't worry, the price of Divine Magic in the academy is relatively favorable. The Lady of Magic's messengers naturally won't be harsh on their own people." The female doctor stretched out a finger: "According to my observation, you'll only need a Lesser Restoration at most. This Divine Magic only costs fifty gold coins in the academy. If you don't have it now, you can also delay it and repay it when you graduate, but there will be interest if it takes too long."

Hearing the number of fifty gold coins, Du Pont, whose entire fortune was only six silver coins, didn't hear the words that followed.

At this time, only one sentence echoed in his mind.

How did this poor guy come here to learn magic?

The mage courses were a bit boring and tedious. The lecturing mage obviously didn't understand what service awareness was, and his face was as stinky as if everyone owed him a lot of money.

Throughout the class, he kept talking about how to construct the spell model of the second-circle spell Fox's Cunning as soon as possible, and how to connect the constructed spell model to the Weave.

In an hour and a half, the blackboard had been rewritten three times. The teacher didn't care what the students had learned. He picked up the spell book and turned to leave, leaving behind students who were either thoughtful or confused.

Du Pont belonged to the latter.

Although he could fluently understand the Elvish on the blackboard, he didn't understand how to construct the spell model at all. Only the system wrote two messages:

[You have gained 5% understanding of the spell Fox's Cunning] [Experience +24]

.

However, he had an idea of how to connect to the Weave.

It could be understood as treating the Weave as the Internet, using one's mental power to construct electromagnetic waves similar to WIFI. After one's mental power connected to the Weave, one could use the correct password (spell model) to download the spell into one's brain, and then use the corresponding gestures and incantations to cast it.

However, how to turn one's mental power into electromagnetic waves and connect to the Weave was still a difficult task for Du Pont.

According to his previous memories, this seemed to require meditation to complete.

While he was thinking, a short, chubby boy with short hair came to his side furtively and asked mysteriously, "Hey, Du Pont, did Annie go to you at noon?"

"Yes." Du Pont looked at this person and felt a little familiar. The name on the other party's badge was Charles: "What's wrong?"

"Be careful, I saw her with Conner next door a few days ago." Charles's lips moved slightly, but his voice reached Du Pont's mind directly. It was a Message spell: "That guy named Conner is now the vice president of the Apprentice Association. He speaks as if his family has a priest. Last night, I went to the dormitory to fetch water, and he used school rules to talk to me. If they didn't have more people, I would have beaten him up already."

"...We just won't associate with them. He can't be so idle that he comes to cause trouble for us." Although he wasn't sure how close he used to be with this chubby boy, they should be considered relatively familiar. But Annie was still willing to lend him scrolls, so their relationship should be good too, right?

Du Pont replied, "By the way, I haven't been feeling well recently, so it might be difficult to make scrolls..."

Hearing this, Charles also looked bitter: "You can't ask me about this. Now it takes me an hour to concentrate on making a scroll. I'm so tired after writing it, and the success rate is only about 50%. It's almost the weekend, so I can only help you with one scroll at most."

Du Pont smiled: "What are you thinking? Borrowing still needs to be repaid to solve the problem. I want to ask if you have any ways to make some money..."

"Make money? Copy scrolls."

"What, do you think I'm asking if I didn't understand how to copy scrolls?"

"Well, there's not much we can do about it. Helping out in the academy kitchen only pays 30 copper coins an hour. If you work four hours after class, you only get a little over one silver coin. You'd have to work a whole month to earn enough for one scroll." Charles patted Du Pont on the shoulder, encouraging him, "Don't think about all that nonsense. If we work hard this year, we should be around level 3 by the end of the year. Copying scrolls will be much easier than it is now. You won't get rich, but it'll be enough to get by."

Du Pont thought for a moment. The currency ratio in this world must be 1 gold = 10 silver = 1000 copper. So, the value of a spare scroll is about 3 gold coins.

If one copper coin is equivalent to one yuan in my previous life, then I have to pay the academy 30 gold coins a week, which is nearly 30,000 yuan, to avoid being kicked out of this Mage Academy?

This number made Du Pont's teeth ache.

Leaving aside the fact that his old man had already paid the tuition when he enrolled, this price for paid classes is too damn high, right?

Thinking of this, a bold idea sprouted in Du Pont's mind.

Should he drop out?

Although he's just a level 2 apprentice, he should still be able to make one scroll a day if he works hard. According to the kitchen helper's salary just now, ordinary people in this world don't earn much. Earning 3,000 a day should definitely be considered above average.

With the ability to make money, he could totally find a quiet and peaceful town to retire in. This world doesn't seem to have a one-man-one-woman system. He could buy a big house and marry several wives of different races, have a bunch of kids, and teach them to be mages. Then, they could become successful and come back to support him. Wouldn't that be better than working his ass off and burning brain cells here?

Wait, could the principal of this magic academy be thinking the same thing? That's a bit too much like being born into privilege.

Thinking of this, Du Pont's desire to live the good life grew stronger, but suddenly a memory flooded into his mind.

To get him into the academy, his family had paid a total of 3,000 gold in tuition over six years, much of which was borrowed at high interest, all so that he could become a mage and one day cross social classes and restore the family's glory.

Even if his cheap old man is responsible for this money, let alone whether he can teach people to be mages if he drops out now, he still owes this damn system 1,000 gold coins.

In other words, he crossed over and didn't do anything, and he's already burdened with high-interest debt that can snowball into millions?

And there's no way to get out of it?

Thinking of this, Du Pont gnashed his teeth in hatred.

As an experienced construction worker, how could he not know the principle of never signing contracts he doesn't understand? But the system's temptation was too great, and he took a gamble. He didn't expect this thing to be even more unscrupulous than a safety officer, going straight from jail to life-threatening.

Looking at Du Pont's constipated expression, Charles, who was next to him, only thought he was too stressed and comforted him, "Don't be so gloomy. If you can't, buy a few to get by first, and just work overtime on Sundays without rest."

Then he looked around furtively and whispered, "By the way, I recently found a good aromatherapy massage parlor. They just got a new batch of Half-elf ladies who are beautiful, have sweet voices, and delicate hands. An hour's massage is only 5 silver coins, and they have fruit and honey wine to eat. After class, we can go relax and rejuvenate, and copying scrolls will definitely be more efficient."

Ah, 5 silver coins to get a massage from a Half-elf lady?

Du Pont had already seen what Half-elves looked like in the infirmary. Their faces would definitely be considered celebrity-level on Earth, and their figures were comparable to Victoria's Secret angels. The only flaw was that they were relatively slender. If they had children, they might not have enough milk.

Although he didn't know what the Half-elves in the massage parlor looked like, the boss wouldn't hire anyone too ugly to work in such a place. They should at least meet the general aesthetic standards.

In the past, he had a client who liked collecting stamps, and he was very interested in the unique beauties of ethnic minorities and other countries. Even if his own hardware wasn't working so well as he got older, he would grit his teeth, take medicine, and try to persevere.

"It's just this one hobby, what's wrong with having some fun?"

Now that he's in another world, will the details of these other races be very different from humans?

Du Pont's heart rate accelerated slightly, but he was quickly discouraged by the cruel reality.

He only has six silver coins in his pocket. If he spends them all, even eating will be a problem, let alone having the mind to experience the local customs of another world.

So poor!