Uh-oh, I've Been Caught Copying!

Knight Balen left after thanking Gret profusely. Even though he hadn't been cured—not even treated yet—Gret had already put in enough effort to earn his heartfelt gratitude.

Gret didn't care much for his thanks. Before he left, Gret held Knight Balen's hand and reminded him over and over:

"Don't smoke! Whatever you do, don't smoke when you get back! If you smoke, your hand won't heal as easily!"

"Why?"

"Just listen to me!" Gret hurriedly pushed him out the door. Tobacco, nicotine—nicotine caused blood vessels to spasm, making wounds harder to heal. Most notably, fingers were prone to necrosis after reattachment. Knight Balen was only having surgery on the tendons in his wrist, so even if smoking had less of an effect, it was still better to avoid it.

But did I really need to explain what nicotine was?

Thanks, but no. Just do as you're told!

After seeing his guest off, Gret returned to his desk and began drafting. It was great to have money! He had two thousand sheets of paper at home and could write whatever he wanted. He could even tear off a sheet after using it once. No more squeezing every last word into every inch of paper!

He organized his thoughts, quickly writing up the medical record, then dipped his pen in ink and listed everything on a sheet of draft paper:

Anesthesia, hemostasis, sterilization, surgery.

Anesthesia: Ask the Temple of the God of War whether they have any ready-made Divine Arts. If so, conduct experiments to determine the results; if not, ask an apothecary. Hemlock, mandrake, henbane, belladonna; ask whether there are any corresponding spells.

Hemostasis: Tourniquet, hemostatic forceps, Divine Arts for stopping bleeding

Sterilization: Wash hands, prepare strong liquor, sterilize all instruments and clothing in advance with high heat

Gret put a question mark beside the word "instruments." He swore by Hippocrates that he really wasn't asking for too much. He'd only requested two pairs of hemostatic forceps and three pairs of tissue forceps. What if something went wrong and the instruments got contaminated, but he still had to use them?

Sterilize them with Holy Light?

Sterilize them with fire?

If only he could use Mage Hand instead of tissue forceps... It wasn't a physical object, so contamination probably wouldn't be a concern...

I really need to keep working on my magic!

He reviewed the vocabulary lists he'd copied yesterday and today, then collapsed into bed. The next morning, he went to the City Guard barracks to pick up a horse, swung into the saddle, and rode straight to the Magic Tower.

He'd borrowed the horse from the City Guard—or rather, Captain Flynn had done him a favor and assigned one to him. He left it at the Magic Tower's stables and paid the gatekeeper five Silver Coins a month to look after it. When he returned to the city, he'd take it back to the barracks. The time he saved meant he could copy twenty more pages of vocabulary every day!

I've got money!

I can afford to board a horse!

And my quality of life has improved!

His monthly pay had gone up from five Silver Coins to fifteen Silver Coins. He'd also received a hefty one-time payment of ten Gold Coins, so he wouldn't have to worry about the cost of copying books for a while! Gret took a bite of his white bread and cheese, then another of his cured meat, savoring every mouthful.

Once he finished lunch, he'd get right back to copying the dictionary! After he finished, he'd translate the spellbook and see what magic it contained that might be useful for surgery!

Just as he was enjoying the thought, the door behind him creaked open. Gret turned and saw a little boy bouncing into the room. He looked like a rich man's son, dressed in a collared shirt and bow tie, breeches and leather boots, with a row of silver buttons glittering on his velvet jacket.

When the boy noticed Gret looking at him, he immediately slowed down, straightened his face, and clasped his hands behind his back. He wasn't even ten yet, but he was already putting on the airs of an old man. Gret couldn't help wanting to laugh.

A newcomer?

Oh no, I can't copy books today!

Who knows how long this kid will be here? If he stays, I'll have to find another way to copy books... Good thing I put everything away while I was eating lunch...

Gret thought quickly and casually greeted him with a "Hello." Then he looked up and saw the person behind the boy, and immediately stood.

"Magister Eliot."

Magister Eliot nodded to Gret, then turned and left. The boy watched him go, then suddenly dashed over to Gret and made a face at him.

"Who are you?"

"I'm—"

The boy clearly had no intention of waiting for an answer. After making his face, he darted over to the corner and started rummaging through Gret's backpack without asking. After a couple of tries, he pulled out a stack of sheets and flipped through them with a rustle.

"What are you doing? Whoa, you're copying a book!"

"Shh!"

Gret hurried to stop him. He wanted to grab the papers back, but was afraid of tearing them, so he raised his hand and then stopped. He turned around abruptly. Outside the library, Magister Eliot happened to be looking over. Their eyes met, but Eliot acted as if nothing had happened and calmly walked away.

Gret felt a little reassured. When he looked back into the room, the boy was already giggling, shaking several sheets of draft paper so they rustled loudly. He held them in front of himself, then hid them behind his back, running all over the room.

"You're copying a book? You're finished! The Magister said you're only allowed to read, not copy!"

The paper wasn't very sturdy to begin with. After all that shaking back and forth, one sheet ripped with a sharp tear. Gret panicked.

"Hey, give that back!"

He lunged for it. The boy dodged left and right, giggling, then suddenly slipped under the desk. Before Gret could bend down after him, the boy shouted:

"You're still trying to grab it? You're copying a book, and you're still trying to grab it! Mr. Eliot, someone's secretly copying books! Mr. Eliot!"

The child's voice was loud and shrill. As he shouted, echoes rang throughout the ground floor of the Magic Tower. Gret couldn't stop him in time. He was just about to cover the boy's mouth when a stern voice sounded outside the library.

"What's going on?"

Gret stopped and turned around. Outside the door, Eliot was already bowing.

"Teacher."

Oh no... I've been caught red-handed by the person in charge. Gret groaned inwardly, but could only bow as well.

"Your Excellency the Magister."

"What are you making all that noise about?" Magister German strode inside. He was still wearing that red robe pulled tight over his belly, and his eyes still glinted sharply. With a single glance, several sheets of paper scattered across the floor floated up and flew into his hand.

There's no way out now... I'd planned to show some results first, then ask someone to put in a word for me. It's only been two and a half days! Can anyone even tell what I'm doing after two and a half days? Can I convince this Magister?

Or could I still defect to a necromancer? Maybe I'd get taken out by a fireball? No, he probably wouldn't use a fireball. This is a library, after all. He wouldn't want to set it on fire...

Gret's thoughts went every which way. His heart pounded wildly, his breathing grew more and more rapid, and a faint sheen of cold sweat broke out on his back. It seemed he really was nervous. His adrenaline was surging, constricting his blood vessels and raising his heart rate...

Gret was surprised he still had time to think about all that. He stepped forward, stood tall, and looked Magister German straight in the eye. His voice was steady as he defended himself:

"I wasn't copying directly from the book. I was just organizing and taking notes to help myself remember."

"That's still copying!" the boy shouted. But Magister German raised a hand to stop him from arguing. Frowning slightly, he looked over the sheets of paper in his hand, then suddenly said:

"What about the rest? Bring it out."

He really didn't forget about the smoking thing. Give yourself a pat on the back.

The protagonist's about to learn his first spell! Show him some support!

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