Inside the Dispatch Bureau office at the White Wizard Association headquarters in the Southeastern Corner Region, an ordinary Formal Wizard from the Conjuration School sat behind his desk, looking in surprise at the three Formal Wizards who had entered his office today. He lowered his head and muttered, "Strange. Really strange. So many people actually came today."
"In past years, hardly anyone came by all year."
"But this time, three showed up at once."
He set aside the idle book in his hand, moved his cup of Wizard fragrant tea with unicorn milk to one side, then looked seriously at the three Formal Wizards who had entered his office.
He was already quite old, nearly five hundred years old, with no room left for improvement. Otherwise, he would not have chosen to pull strings and enter the White Wizard Association's Dispatch Bureau to do such leisurely work.
The White Wizard Association's staff could generally be divided into two types.
One type consisted of people with no room left for advancement, or those who did not want to compete, did not want to deal with students, and did not want to shoulder responsibility—people who had completely given up. The second type consisted of Wizards with strong career ambitions who wanted to take charge of some specific White Wizard Association affair, thereby obtaining magical resources indirectly and gaining leadership positions.
Work at the White Wizard Association could sometimes become a shortcut to quickly advancing one's academic rank.
But that required mastering quite a bit of hidden information and planning carefully. Otherwise, the losses would outweigh the gains.
The old Wizard from the Dispatch Bureau looked at the three young people in his office. A barely perceptible trace of envy flashed through his eyes, but his mood soon settled completely, calm as an