A Hand Chopped Off an Arm!

Outside the warehouse, the midday sun was blinding.

Tylen sat on that battered cart, idly toying with a dark red stone he'd picked up beside a gangster's corpse—the remnant of some cheap talisman.

He didn't wait long.

About ten minutes later, a flurry of hurried, chaotic footsteps echoed from the alley entrance.

"Hurry! It's right ahead! That damn thing's still inside!"

Black Glass's voice carried undisguised terror.

Tylen lifted his head, his gaze calmly sweeping over the uninvited guests.

At the front was Black Glass.

His left arm was wrapped in thick bandages, faint blood seeping through—clearly wounded in the earlier chaos.

Behind him followed five thugs in leather armor, machetes in hand, all tense and on edge as if facing a great enemy.

And beside Black Glass stood a young man in a gray wizard's robe.

He looked about thirty, with a messy mop of blond hair like a bird's nest, clutching a short magic wand set with a cheap amethyst.

Though he seemed a bit unkempt, the mana fluctuations radiating from him were genuine.

"Sir, this has nothing to do with me!"

Black Glass ran while defending himself, spittle flying.

"That old bastard didn't want to live anymore—who knew he'd turn into that kind of monster after death! Mr. Ars, you've got to save us!"

The young wizard called Ars shot him a cold glance, his tone icy as if scolding a dog:

"Shut up. How many times have I told you? You can collect protection money, but don't push things too far."

"Too much resentment easily draws the Abyss's attention. If a corpse mutates, you useless lot can't handle it."

"Yes, yes, you're right..." Black Glass nodded and bowed, all his earlier arrogance gone.

Just then, they rounded the corner and saw Tylen sitting on the cart, utterly calm.

Black Glass's pupils dilated sharply.

"You?!"

Old grudges and new hatreds surged up at once.

If this corpse-collecting brat hadn't interfered yesterday, Old Jack would have been dealt with long ago, and today's trouble wouldn't exist.

And just now in the warehouse, this kid had the nerve to ignore his pleas for help!

"Damn it, I'll kill you!"

Black Glass roared, his remaining good right hand balling into a fist, swinging it at Tylen's head without a second thought.

The punch carried a whistling wind—clearly meant to kill.

In his eyes, Tylen was just a corpse collector with some strength, still a weakling against real violence.

But he was wrong.

Dead wrong.

Tylen sat on the cart, not even shifting his weight.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a cold gleam flashing through them.

"Looking for death."

He thought silently, mana surging in an instant.

[Magic Thorn Art]

Hum!

An extremely faint buzzing sound rang out.

Ars, standing behind, changed expression. As a wizard apprentice, his keen senses instantly detected the mana fluctuation.

"Stop! There's mana..."

But his warning came too late.

Tylen's left hand shot up like lightning, fingers pressed together, the edge of his palm condensing a barely visible transparent blade.

No extra movements—just a simple slash.

Pfft!

Like a hot knife through butter.

Black Glass's thick arm, swung with full force, snapped in two midair.

Blood gushed out instantly, like a high-pressure faucet turned on full blast.

"Ah!!!"

Until the severed arm hit the ground with a dull thud, Black Glass finally reacted.

He clutched the spurting stump, letting out a pig-slaughter scream as he staggered backward, his face filled with disbelief and terror.

He hadn't seen what happened at all.

All he felt was a blur before his eyes, and then his hand was gone.

"W-What kind of evil magic is this?!"

The surrounding thugs were also frozen in shock, their hands trembling as they gripped their knives, none daring to step forward.

Tylen slowly withdrew his hand, casually flicking off the few drops of still-uncongealed blood from his fingertips.

His expression remained calm, as if he had just cut not a human arm but a dry twig.

"This gentleman."

Tylen lifted his head, his gaze passing over the screaming Black Glass to lock onto the blond youth.

"Don't you people of the Red Wine Gang think you're being a bit too overbearing?"

Ars did not speak.

He stared intently at Tylen's seemingly ordinary hand, his eyes full of wariness.

The sharpness that had burst forth in that instant even surpassed a standard Level 1 Wind Blade!

"First, save him."

Ars took a deep breath and waved his magic wand.

An invisible force of magic pulled the severed arm from the ground, precisely aligning it with Black Glass's wound.

"Healing Light."

Accompanied by a string of obscure incantations, a soft white light enveloped the wound.

Flesh buds squirmed, blood vessels connected.

In just over ten seconds, Black Glass's horrifying wound miraculously stopped bleeding and healed. Though a gruesome scar remained, the arm was saved.

"Seems like some kind of healing magic," Tylen assessed inwardly. At his level, he had little intelligence or knowledge about magic, only knowing that spells were ranked by power into ten levels—one being the lowest, ten the highest.

But he had no idea how they were divided, nor did he even know which level his Magic Thorn Art belonged to.

What Tylen could be sure of, however, was that mastering such healing magic meant this guy had real skill and likely held a position of status in the gang.

After finishing the treatment, Ars turned around, his expression grave as he looked at Tylen.

"I am Ars of Winter Glow Town, a sixth-level wizard apprentice. Who are you, sir?"

Sixth-level apprentice.

To Tylen, that was already an unattainable existence.

Tylen stood up, brushed the dust off his robe, and performed a standard wizard's greeting:

"Magnus of Cain Tower. An ordinary corpse-collecting apprentice."

"Ordinary?"

Ars's eye twitched.

He recalled Black Glass's description on the road, saying this kid was just a poor nobody with no background.

To hell with poor nobody!

What poor nobody could casually release such a precise and concealed spell?

What corpse-collecting apprentice could face a scene like this without changing expression?

"I've never seen a corpse-collecting apprentice master such a sharp magic," Ars probed.

Tylen shrugged, his tone light:

"In this line of work, you need some means to protect yourself. Otherwise, I would have already been beaten to death by this Brother Black Glass just now, wouldn't I?"

Beside him, Black Glass, pale-faced and clutching his newly reattached arm, shrank even further behind Ars at these words.

He regretted it to the core now.

If he had known this kid was a ruthless player pretending to be weak, he wouldn't have dared to make a move even with ten times the courage!

In this world, those who could use magic and those who couldn't were entirely different species.

The former were hunters; the latter, prey.

Ars gave Tylen a deep look, not dwelling on the matter.

"What business does this sir have on Red Wine Gang turf?"

"Fulfilling a promise."

Tylen turned, pulled a bundle from the pile of junk on the cart, and tossed it over.

Ars caught it instinctively.

"This is the hundred rune frameworks I promised to draw for Black Glass."

Tylen's tone turned icy, his gaze stabbing like a blade at Black Glass, who was hiding behind:

"As payment for him agreeing to spare Old Jack's wife's corpse."

"Though some people break their word, I, Magnus, am different. I keep my promises."

Hearing this, Ars pieced together the situation from what Black Glass had told him on the road.

He shot Black Glass a vicious glare.

A useless fool who ruins everything!

For two corpses, he got so many underlings killed and offended a wizard apprentice with immense potential!

Ars opened the bundle and pulled out a few sheets of rune paper.

The next second, his pupils dilated sharply.

Shock.

This wasn't just passable—it was a work of art!

Every line flowed naturally, every node was precise, the layout of the magic circuits even more perfect than a textbook.

Such brushwork, such control over rune structure...

Ars asked himself, even as a sixth-level apprentice, he couldn't achieve this level!

"These... you drew all of these?" Ars's voice carried curiosity.

"Mm."

Tylen replied flatly, sitting back on the cart and picking up the reins.

"Old Jack's vengeful spirit has been dealt with. There are four corpses on the cart now."

"Old Jack and his wife's bodies are covered by these rune frameworks."

"The other two are your underlings. Consider that payment for me cleaning up your mess."

With that, he flicked the reins without even glancing at Ars.

"Giddyup!"

The old horse stepped forward, and the cart slowly began to move.

"Wait!"

Ars suddenly stepped forward, blocking the cart.

This time, his face no longer held the cold arrogance from before, replaced by a warm smile.

"Classmate Magnus, no need to rush off."

"Perhaps there was a misunderstanding earlier. I never had any ill intentions toward you."

Ars was a clever man.

From Tylen's composed demeanor, to that stunning hand-blade magic, to this precise rune-drawing skill—

Everything proved this youth was no ordinary talent.

The Old Mine was right at the foot of Cain Wizard Tower; making connections here with someone who might become a full wizard was an investment well worth it.

"Misunderstanding?"

Tylen reined in the horse, looking down at Ars with a mocking curl to his lips.

"I was actually looking forward to cooperating with your gang on corpse retrieval."

"But unfortunately, for someone who breaks promises and fails to keep their word, I won't give a second chance of trust."

These words hit hard.

But precisely because they were heavy, they showed his confidence.

Ars's heart tightened, but he smiled and said:

"I understand your anger. This is all Black Glass's foolishness. When I get back, I'll deal with him according to gang rules."

"Please rest assured, from now on, your partner is me."

"I recognize your excellence and value. So I believe we can establish a very promising cooperative future."

Tylen didn't answer immediately.

He quietly watched Ars, fingers tapping lightly on his knee, as if weighing the pros and cons.

In truth, he was already overjoyed inside.

This was exactly the effect he wanted.

Show force to intimidate the petty, display skill to raise his value, then play hard to get, keeping the initiative firmly in his own hands.

The timing was right.

Tylen's coldness eased slightly, and he went along with it:

"To be so valued by Lord Ars is my honor."

"I believe that, as a sixth-rank apprentice, your character should be far nobler than those street thugs."

Hearing this, Ars let out a sigh of relief, his smile growing even brighter:

"Naturally."

"Now that the misunderstanding is cleared, as the first step in our cooperation..."

Ars shook the rune paper in his hand, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes:

"With rune frameworks of this quality, can you still draw a hundred more for me today?"

"As a reward, I can offer you fifty purple gold coins."

Fifty purple gold coins.

Tylen quickly calculated in his mind.

On the market, the price for an ordinary apprentice to draw a hundred basic frameworks was about thirty purple gold coins. Ars's offer was nearly double that.

It was a rather generous cooperation term.

"If you can provide the rune paper."

Tylen nodded and extended his right hand:

"I can accept this cooperation."

"Deal!"

Ars shook Tylen's hand with a beaming smile.