The Wizard Tower Had to Cut Costs and Boost Efficiency Too (4k)

After finishing the spell simulation, it was already 10 p.m.

The pain of feeling as if his brain had been scooped out, with countless red-hot needles stirring his brain matter, was so intense that he could barely keep himself upright.

"Damn this low-magic constitution..."

Wizards had a limit to how much wear and tear their bodies could take. Using too much mana in a day would damage them.

It was just like a gun barrel overheating after too many shots.

This was simply far more pronounced for a Level 0 wizard.

He muttered a curse, then toppled stiffly onto the straw-covered plank bed like a puppet with its strings cut.

Eyes closed. Lights out.

Twenty minutes later.

Tylen suddenly opened his eyes. There wasn't a trace of sleepiness in his pupils, only a sharp clarity like that of a scalpel.

The Slacker Saint Body's thirtyfold recovery efficiency let him achieve, in just this short span, what would normally take ten hours of deep sleep.

He sat up and rolled his neck, which cracked several times.

In the bright candlelight, he looked at the pile of bone fragments he had ruined while carving, then at his own hands, long-fingered but a little rough.

"I can't let my craftsmanship go to waste."

Tylen picked up a fragment of a shoulder blade and ran his fingertip over the gouge that had splintered from applying too much force.

"Without a diamond drill, you can't do porcelain work."

"The Bone-Cleaving Knife isn't hard enough yet. Magic Thorn Art is sharp, but it doesn't last long and takes too much out of me."

"Until I have a carving knife that feels right in my hand, forcing myself to practice will only waste materials and time."

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

[Name: Tyron Arthas Magnus]

[Rank: Level 0 Apprentice]

[Constitution: 1]

[Mental: 3.6]

[Magic Control: 7.666]

[Spell: 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, Tylen's mouth curled into a self-deprecating smile.

"My Mental Power is shooting up, but my Constitution is still a pathetic 1."

"It's like putting a Ferrari engine in a tractor. Sooner or later, the whole thing's going to fall apart."

"And..."

His gaze fell on his empty money pouch.

"Money."

"The Grand Monthly Card gave me tons of experience and resources, but either they're bound or they can't be shown in public."

"It can't give me ready-made Purple Gold Coins, or a high-energy nutritional meal I can just shove into my stomach."

"With Magic Thorn Art, I've got offensive power now. Against bottom-tier apprentices who only know how to swing their fists, it's a complete mismatch."

"But my defense is practically zero. If someone ambushes me or attacks from a distance, my frail body will go down to a single fireball."

"The Bone Domination rune could solve my defense problem, and might even give me protection like exoskeleton armor."

"But first, I have to grind up my Runic Studies level."

"And grinding runes takes a lot of practice materials. In other words, money."

It was a perfect vicious cycle.

He needed money to get stronger, and he needed to get stronger to earn money.

"Whew..."

Tylen let out a long breath, temporarily suppressing his worries about being poor.

He went to the desk and spread out the hundred expensive sheets of rune paper.

This was his only legal source of income for now.

He picked up his pen, dipped it in ink, and began writing.

With his thoughts accelerated thirtyfold, his hand was as steady as a rock.

Every line fell precisely where it belonged, without the slightest tremor or deviation.

Ten minutes later.

A hundred flawless Runic Frames sat in a neat stack at the corner of the desk.

"I hope Ars comes through tomorrow and gets me more orders."

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

With that done, Tylen didn't rest.

He went to the washing area in the Morgue and began preparing the three corpses he had to turn in tomorrow.

Two adults and an infant.

He carefully washed the blood and dirt from their bodies, stitched up their wounds, and even changed the poor baby into a clean little outfit.

"Product quality is the core of competitiveness, no matter the business."

Preparing the corpses took only five minutes.

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

The book was a full six hundred pages. It was heavy in his hands, and not only could it kill someone if thrown, it could kill brain cells too.

He had stayed up all night yesterday and managed to memorize the first two hundred pages.

But after a full day of intense mental work, the contents of those two hundred pages had already started to blur, turning into a mess.

"Reviewing the old helps you learn the new."

Tylen smiled wryly. Then, boosted by his Slacker Saint Body, he became a tireless scanner, sweeping the first two hundred pages back into his brain to reinforce and index them.

Then he started chewing through new material.

"Mercury Grass must be extracted at a constant temperature of seventy degrees..."

"Mandrake roots must be sliced no thicker than 0.5 millimeters..."

Dull, tedious, and inhuman.

Studying was agonizing for Tylen, but he had no choice.

It was just like the nights he had spent frantically doing practice problems before the college entrance exam.

He knew that these tedious words were the steps leading to truth and wealth.

When the first rays of dawn shone through the basement window and fell on Tylen's slightly pale face,

he closed the book.

"Alchemy... really isn't something people should study."

Tylen rubbed his throbbing temples, feeling as if his brain matter was about to boil.

Even with a thirtyfold boost to his efficiency, he had only made it through another hundred pages that night.

The density of this knowledge was downright ten times more brutal than preparing for graduate school entrance exams in his previous life.

After a quick wash, he headed out.

He hurriedly shoveled down a couple of bites of oatmeal in the cafeteria. It was as thick as paste. Then Tylen hitched up his familiar flatbed cart, loaded with three sealed boxes, and headed for the Wizard Tower's main tower.

7:30 a.m.

Tylen arrived at the door of the private classroom on the seventeenth floor right on time.

He pushed the door open.

Morning sunlight spilled across the classroom, and the faint scent of violets hung in the air.

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

Beside him stood Violet Star, the haughty senior apprentice.

She was wearing her signature purple silk dress and pointed wizard's hat as usual, radiating a sharp yet elegant presence.

The two seemed to be discussing something, but stopped when Tylen entered.

Tylen immediately set down his cart, straightened his robes, and hurried over.

First, he faced Makley and bowed deeply, giving the standard apprentice's salute:

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

Then he turned to Violet Star and bowed just as respectfully:

"Good morning, Senior Violet Star. Your beauty makes even the morning sun seem dim."

The whole routine was smooth and flawless.

Violet Star lifted her chin. Her pale violet eyes swept over Tylen, and she asked nonchalantly:

"How are the corpses coming along?"

"I've done my best not to disappoint."

Tylen turned and opened the three boxes.

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

The lids came off.

There was no stench or filth.

The three corpses lay quietly on their velvet cushions, clean and tidy as if they were asleep.

The infant in particular had been wiped clean until its skin looked rosy. Dressed in a tiny white outfit, it looked like an exquisite doll.

Violet Star stepped forward and examined them carefully.

When she saw the Withered Shell, surprise flashed in her eyes.

Corpses drained by evil spirits were extremely difficult to preserve. Their spiritual structures collapsed, and they usually rotted very quickly.

But this corpse was not only intact; even the grayish pallor of its skin had been perfectly preserved.

"Not bad."

Violet Star nodded, and, unusually, a hint of satisfaction appeared in her smile.

"You managed to gather all of these in such a short time, and you prepared them so neatly... It seems you really put your heart into it."

With a casual wave of her hand, three Skeleton Servants appeared and began handling the corpses.

"I'll take care of the rest. You can leave."

"Yes, Senior."

Tylen stepped back respectfully.

Just then, Makley set down his teacup and beckoned Tylen over.

"Magnus, come here for a moment."

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

Makley gazed out at the bustling academy avenue. His voice was calm, but carried a deeper meaning:

"I've finished dealing with the matter of Jane and Tom."

"They won't openly cause trouble for you again."

Tylen immediately lowered his head. "Thank you for protecting me, Mentor."

"But..."

Makley changed tack and turned around, fixing Tylen with a deep gaze.

"To avoid any further unnecessary conflict, and to keep them from finding excuses to target you in class... starting today, you can't attend lessons here anymore."

After saying this, he quietly studied Tylen's expression.

It was a test.

A test of the young man's character, and whether he would resent losing this hard-won opportunity.

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

It was the instinctive reaction of someone whose thirst for knowledge had been thwarted.

But he quickly regained his composure.

He bowed deeply again. There wasn't a trace of resentment in his voice; instead, it was full of gratitude and understanding.

"I understand, Mentor."

"Thank you for protecting me."

Makley raised an eyebrow and asked mildly, "You must blame me, deep down... don't you?"

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

Tylen lifted his head, his gaze clear and frank.

He shook his head, a bitter but reasonable smile appearing on his lips.

"How could I blame you? You're protecting me. It's a sign of how much you care."

"To those young ladies and gentlemen of noble birth, an apprentice like me, reeking of corpses, showing up in this classroom is like a muddy stray dog suddenly barging into their luxurious living room."

"My very presence must make them feel physically repulsed and insulted."

"You're keeping me out of class to separate me from them, so they won't have more reasons and excuses to attack me."

"That's a great act of wisdom, and it shows how much you care about me."

Hearing this, the corners of Makley's mouth lifted despite himself.

He could no longer hide the admiration in his eyes.

"So you're a clever and thoughtful young man, too."

"I'm glad you understand."

In this Wizard Tower full of spoiled brats and delusional obsessives, having an apprentice who understood his place and could appreciate the difficulties of those above him was a genuine pleasure.

Makley patted Tylen on the shoulder and said quietly:

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

"Every day at 7:00 p.m. from now on, I'll give you private lessons through my avatar, just like I did yesterday."

At those words, Tylen's face lit up with joy.

His voice trembled with excitement as he bowed deeply again.

"Thank you for your boundless kindness, Teacher! Your student... Your student would gladly give his life for you!"

He wasn't putting on an act.

Private lessons! That was the privilege of a personal disciple!

Makley nodded with satisfaction, then straightened his expression and got down to business.

"All right, enough small talk."

"Today is the 30th, and the end-of-month audit is about to begin."

"Are there any shortfalls or problems in your accounts?"

Tylen's heart tightened.

Here it comes.

He immediately put on an embarrassed look and scratched his head, like a child who'd done something wrong.

"Reporting to you, Mentor... There is a small problem."

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

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

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

Of course, that was all nonsense. He'd used the 98 coins of public funds to buy the Small Monthly Card and the Big Monthly Card.

Makley gave a quiet hum, his expression unchanged.

Ninety-eight Purple Gold Coins was no more than the cost of afternoon tea to him.

"Ninety-eight isn't much. I'll reimburse you in a moment."

Makley spoke calmly, though there was a hint of admonishment in his tone.

"Still, you need to be more careful with money from now on."

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

"If you really need it, I can approve additional funds. But I won't have you keep coming to me after the fact to say you're short on money."

"That would be a sign of incompetence."

Tylen immediately understood Makley's deeper meaning.

He was setting rules for him, but also giving him more authority.

Tasks involving financial control would gradually be handed over to him, but first, he needed to demonstrate that he could manage things properly.

"Please rest assured, Mentor!"

Tylen nodded respectfully, his gaze resolute.

"This will never happen again. I'll prepare a detailed budget for you to review."

Makley nodded with satisfaction.

Then his expression grew serious, even grave.

"Also, you'll need to be careful in the days ahead."

"Due to policy changes from above, the Wizard Tower is going to reallocate the corpse collector apprentice quotas for the formal wizards, as well as the corpse resources."

Tylen's heart sank.

He knew that kind of talk all too well.

Back in his previous life, whenever his clients at the company solemnly brought up "policy changes" or "resource restructuring," it usually meant four words...

Cut costs and boost efficiency.

Looks like the Wizard Tower is about to be swept by a storm of bloodshed.