The Wizard Tower Also Needs to Reduce Costs and Increase Efficiency

After completing the ritual deduction, the time had already reached 10 PM.

That searing pain, as if his brain had been hollowed out and countless red-hot steel needles were stirring through his gray matter, made it nearly impossible for him to maintain his sitting posture.

"This damned low-magic constitution..."

A wizard's body had a wear-and-tear limit; consuming too much mental energy each day would cause physical damage.

It was like a gun barrel overheating from firing too many bullets.

Only this condition was far more pronounced for a Level 0 apprentice.

He cursed under his breath, then collapsed like a severed puppet, falling stiffly onto the hard plank bed covered with dry straw.

Eyes closed. Blackout.

Twenty minutes later.

Tyron's eyes snapped open, not a trace of drowsiness in his pupils—only a razor-sharp clarity, like a surgical scalpel.

The [Slacker Saint Body]'s 30x recovery efficiency allowed him, in that brief quarter-hour, to achieve the restorative effect of ten hours of deep sleep for an ordinary person.

He sat up, rolling his neck, which cracked with a crisp pop.

By the bright candlelight, he looked at the pile of bone fragments he'd ruined with his carving, then at his own hands—long-fingered but slightly rough.

"Can't let the craft slip."

Tyron picked up a piece of shoulder blade, rubbing his thumb over a crack that had split from too much force.

"No diamond, no porcelain work."

"Right now, my bone knife isn't hard enough. Magic Thorn Art is sharp, but its duration is too short and the cost too high."

"Without a proper carving tool, forcing practice will only waste materials and time."

He tossed the bone shard back into the basket, and with a thought, called up his status panel.

code
[Name: Tyron Arthas Magnus]
[Rank: Level 0 Apprentice]
[Physique: 1]
[Spirit: 3.6]
[Mana Control: 7.666]
[Ritual: Spirit Summoning Control Method (7666/100,000)]
[Skill: Magic Thorn Art Lv.2 (137/200)]
[Knowledge: Runic Studies Level 0.2]

Looking at the rapidly growing numbers, a self-deprecating smirk tugged at the corner of Tyron's mouth.

"Spirit shoots up like crazy, but my physique is still a pathetic 1."

"It's like strapping a Ferrari engine onto a tractor—it'll fall apart sooner or later."

"And..."

His gaze landed on his empty coin purse.

"Money."

"The Grand Monthly Card gives me a ton of experience and resources, but those are either bound or can't be shown in the light."

"It can't hand me ready Purple Gold Coins, nor can it give me high-energy nutrition meals I can just stuff into my stomach."

"With Magic Thorn Art, I've got offensive power now. Against those low-level apprentices who only know how to flail like turtles, it's a total stomp."

"But my defense is almost zero. If someone ambushes me or hits me with a ranged attack, this frail body of mine is just one fireball away from being toast."

"The Bone Domination rune could solve the defense problem, even give me protection like an exoskeleton armor."

"But the prerequisite is that I have to grind my Runic Studies level up."

"And grinding runes takes a ton of practice materials. Which means money."

It was a perfect vicious cycle.

To get stronger, you need money. To make money, you need to get stronger.

"Phew..."

Tyron let out a long breath, pushing down the anxiety about poverty swirling in his mind.

He walked to the table and spread out the hundred sheets of expensive rune paper.

This was his only legitimate source of income for now.

He picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and began to write.

Under 30x mental acceleration, his hand was steady as a rock.

Every line landed precisely where it was supposed to, without a single tremor, without a single deviation.

Ten minutes later.

One hundred perfect rune frameworks were neatly stacked at the corner of the table.

"Hopefully Ars will come through tomorrow and get me more orders."

"If the Fine Wine Gang can't take them, I'll have to try my luck at other magic rune shops."

After finishing all this, Tylen didn't rest.

He walked to the cleaning area of the morgue and began processing the three corpses due for delivery tomorrow.

Two adults, one infant.

He meticulously washed away the blood and grime from the bodies, stitched up the wounds with needle and thread, and even changed the poor baby into a clean little outfit.

"No matter what, product quality is the core competitive edge."

Processing the corpses took only five minutes.

Tylen returned to the table and pulled out a book as thick as a brick from his pocket: Alchemy Basics: Material Processing and Solvent Ratios.

This book was a full 600 pages, heavy in the hand—enough to kill someone if thrown, and more than enough to kill brain cells.

Last night, he'd stayed up all night and barely managed to memorize the first 200 pages.

But after a full day of intense mental labor, those 200 pages had started to blur, turning into a mushy mess.

"Review the old to learn the new."

Tylen gave a bitter smile, then, with the boost of the Slacker Saint Body, he worked like a tireless scanner, reabsorbing the first 200 pages into his brain, reinforcing and indexing them.

Then he started tackling new content.

"Mercury Grass extraction needs to be done at a constant temperature of 70 degrees..."

"Mandrake root slices must not exceed 0.5 millimeters in thickness..."

Dry, tedious, inhumane.

Tylen struggled through it, but he had no choice.

It was like those late nights before the college entrance exams, frantically grinding through problems.

Because he knew these boring words were the ladder to truth and wealth.

When the first rays of dawn filtered through the basement window and fell on Tylen's slightly pale face, he closed the book.

"Alchemy... really isn't meant for humans."

Tylen rubbed his throbbing temples, feeling like his brain was about to boil over.

Even with a 30x efficiency boost, he'd only managed to push through another 100 pages that night.

The density of knowledge here was ten times more brutal than grad school entrance exams back in his past life.

A quick wash, then out the door.

After scarfing down some oatmeal that felt like paste in the cafeteria, Tylen pulled the familiar flatbed cart, loaded with three sealed boxes, and headed toward the main tower of the Wizard Tower.

7:30 AM.

Tylen appeared on time at the door of the exclusive classroom on the 17th floor.

He pushed the door open.

Morning sunlight spilled into the room, and the air was faintly scented with violet.

Instructor Makley stood by the window, holding a cup of black tea.

Beside him stood the proud senior sister—Violet Star.

She was still wearing her signature purple silk gown today, topped with a pointed wizard hat, exuding a sharp and elegant aura.

The two seemed to be in the middle of a conversation, but they stopped when they saw Tylen enter.

Tylen immediately set down the cart, straightened his robe, and hurried forward.

First, he faced Makley, bowed deeply, and performed a standard apprentice salute:

"Good morning, Instructor. May the light of truth forever illuminate your path."

Then, he turned to Violet Star and bowed with equal respect:

"Good morning, Senior Sister Violet Star. Your beauty makes even this morning's sunlight seem dim."

The whole sequence was smooth and flawless, leaving no room for criticism.

Violet Star lifted her chin, her pale violet eyes sweeping over Tylen as she spoke with a hint of nonchalance:

"How are the corpses coming along?"

"Mission accomplished."

Tylen turned and opened the three boxes.

"As you requested: Pure Spirit, Drug Overdose Body, Withered Shell."

The box lid opened.

No odor, no filth.

Three bodies lay quietly on the velvet lining, clean and tidy as if they were asleep.

The infant in particular—its skin had been wiped to a rosy pink, dressed in a small white garment, looking like an exquisite doll.

Violet Star stepped forward and examined them carefully.

When she saw that "Withered Shell," a flicker of surprise passed through her eyes.

This kind of corpse, drained dry by an evil spirit, was extremely difficult to preserve; it usually rotted quickly due to the collapse of its spiritual structure.

But this corpse was not only intact, even the gray-white pallor of its skin had been preserved with perfect precision.

"Not bad."

Violet Star nodded, a rare hint of satisfaction appearing in her smile.

"To gather these in such a short time and handle them so cleanly... it seems you truly put your heart into it."

With a casual wave of her hand, three skeletal servants suddenly appeared and began processing the bodies.

"I'll handle the rest. You may withdraw."

"Yes, Senior Sister."

Tylen stepped back respectfully.

Just then, Makley set down his teacup and waved at Tylen.

"Magnus, come here a moment."

Tylen's heart stirred, and he quickly walked to the window.

Makley gazed out at the bustling academy avenue, his voice flat but laden with meaning:

"I've already finished handling the matter of Jane and Tom."

"They won't cause you trouble openly anymore."

Tylen immediately bowed his head: "I am grateful for the Mentor's protection."

"But..."

Makley shifted his tone, turning around to fix Tylen with a deep, probing gaze:

"To avoid unnecessary conflict going forward, and to keep them from finding excuses to target you in class... starting today, you can no longer attend lectures here."

Having said this, he quietly observed Tylen's expression.

It was a test.

A test of this young man's character, to see if he would resent losing this hard-won opportunity.

A perfectly measured flicker of disappointment did pass through Tylen's eyes.

It was an instinctive reaction to having his thirst for knowledge cut off.

But he quickly composed himself.

He bowed deeply once more, his tone devoid of any resentment, filled instead with gratitude and understanding:

"This student understands."

"I thank the Mentor for the protection he has given me."

Makley raised an eyebrow and asked flatly: "In your heart... you must blame me, right?"

"After all, this was your only chance to access higher-level knowledge."

Tylen lifted his head, his gaze clear and open.

He shook his head, a bitter yet rational smile tugging at his lips:

"How could I blame you? This is your protection for me, and also a form of care."

"To those young masters and ladies of noble birth, a low-level apprentice reeking of corpse stench appearing in this classroom is like a muddy stray dog suddenly barging into their lavish living room."

"My very existence would cause them physical discomfort and offense."

"By not letting me attend class here, you're isolating me from them, preventing them from finding more reasons and excuses to attack me."

"This is a great wisdom born of care for me."

Hearing these words, the corners of Makley's mouth couldn't help but curl up.

The admiration in his eyes could no longer be concealed.

"It seems you are also a clever and perceptive child."

"That you can understand this level of reasoning brings me comfort."

In this Wizard Tower, full of overgrown infants and delusional fools, having an apprentice who knew his place so clearly and could empathize with the difficulties of those above him was nothing short of a pleasure.

Makley patted Tylen on the shoulder and said in a low voice:

"Don't worry. I won't shortchange a student who truly seeks knowledge."

"From now on, every evening at 7:00, I will give you individual lessons through my avatar, just like yesterday."

Upon hearing this, Tylen's face instantly bloomed with ecstatic joy.

His voice trembled with excitement as he bowed deeply once more: "Thank you for your great kindness, Teacher! Your student... your student will serve you to the utmost!"

This was no act.

Individual lessons! This was the treatment of a personal disciple!

Makley nodded with satisfaction, then his expression turned serious as he got down to business: "Alright, enough idle talk."

"Today is the 30th. The month-end audit is about to begin."

"Is there any shortfall or trouble on your accounts?"

Tylen's heart tightened.

Here it comes.

He immediately put on a slightly embarrassed look, scratching his head like a child who had done something wrong: "Reporting to you, Mentor... there is indeed a small problem."

"The day before yesterday, while collecting corpses, I ran into a troublesome group of mercenaries."

"To secure that high-quality corpse, I... I overspent by 98 Purple Gold Coins."

"I haven't had time to balance the books yet..."

This was, of course, complete nonsense. Those 98 public funds had been used by him to top up the Small and Large Monthly Cards.

Makley grunted, his expression unchanged.

98 Purple Gold Coins was nothing more than the cost of an afternoon tea to him.

"98 isn't much. I'll make it up to you later," Makley said flatly, a hint of warning in his tone. "But from now on, you need to be careful when spending money."

"Make a budget in advance and learn to plan."

"If you truly need it, I can approve extra funds. But I will never tolerate you coming to me after the fact, telling me the money isn't enough."

"That is a sign of incompetence."

Tylen immediately grasped Makley's deeper meaning.

He was setting rules, but also delegating authority.

In the future, tasks involving financial power would gradually be handed over to him, but only if he demonstrated sufficient control.

"Rest assured, Mentor!" Tylen nodded respectfully, his gaze firm. "This kind of thing will never happen a second time. I will draft a detailed budget for your review."

Makley nodded with satisfaction.

Then his expression turned serious, even grave.

"Also, you need to be careful going forward."

"Due to policy changes from above, the quotas for corpse-collecting apprentices assigned to official wizards inside the Wizard Tower, as well as the corpse resources, are going to be redistributed."

Hearing this, Tylen's heart skipped a beat.

He was all too familiar with this kind of rhetoric.

In his past life at the company, whenever his clients brought up "policy changes" or "resource restructuring" with a heavy face, it usually meant four words...

Cost reduction and efficiency improvement.

"It looks like a bloody storm is about to sweep through the entire Wizard Tower from the inside," Tylen thought to himself.