The Irresistible Aroma from the Morgue

While Tylen was out collecting corpses...

The underground world of the Cain Wizard Tower was a gloomy maze, utterly unlike the dazzling world above.

There was no sunlight, no flowers, only enormous crisscrossing pipes and the unceasing sound of running water.

The wide sewers channeled fresh water from the Heaven Luck River, washing away the filth produced throughout the tower before returning the wastewater, after a simple magical purification, to the river downstream.

The air was thick with a revolting mixture of smells: fermented food scraps, the sour stench of alchemical waste, the rank odor of excrement, and the mustiness of a place that had not seen daylight in years.

And yet, even in this place people would do anything to avoid, a group of prospectors were hard at work.

More than a dozen apprentices wearing greasy leather aprons and thick linen masks advanced in pairs along the stone walkways on either side of the waterway, carrying long-handled iron hooks and enormous tongs.

It was a long-term task posted by the Wizard Tower: sewer inspection.

Although the conditions were terrible, it was one of the most coveted, well-paid jobs among the lowest-ranking apprentices.

There was only one reason: this was where the waste outlets from the upper world connected.

The young noblemen and ladies living at the top of the tower often accidentally flushed valuable little objects down the sewers.

Magic rings set with amethysts, discarded magic crystals imbued with powerful mana, and even fragments of broken magical artifacts...

These were all genuine finds made by their predecessors.

To those important people, these things might have been nothing more than accidentally dropped trash, not worth the trouble of retrieving.

Even if they were valuable, their noble dignity and instinctive disgust would keep them from wanting them back.

But to these poor apprentices who could not even scrape together their tuition, they were treasures that could transform their lives in the short term—or even change their fate forever.

If they were lucky enough to find just one, they could sell it on the black market in Lion City's western outer district and have a chance to rise another step.

"Ugh!"

A violent gag broke the stillness of the sewer.

Dutch bent over, bracing himself with the manure fork in his hand as tears and snot streamed down his face.

He had just fished a tangled clump of hair and unidentifiable fibers out of a clogged drain with his manure fork.

The strange stench, fermented after soaking in alchemical waste, had nearly blown the top of his head off.

"Damn it... What is that smell? It's even more disgusting than a rotting ghoul!"

Dutch complained as he wiped his tears with his sleeve. His square, bearded face had gone bright red.

Standing beside him was a tall young man with chestnut hair named Morgan.

He held a huge pair of iron shears and skillfully cut through the clog, then tossed it into the nearby trash bin.

Seeing his companion in such a sorry state, Morgan shook his head helplessly.

"Come on, Dutch. You've been in the tower for three years. Why are you still acting like a rookie? You can't even handle a smell like this?"

Dutch pinched his nose and answered in a muffled, tearful voice:

"You know what I'm like! I've had an Agile nose since I was a kid. This is pure torture for me!"

"If I hadn't heard you could find good stuff down here, I wouldn't come to this hellhole even if they beat me to death!"

"I had it so good these past six months, helping my mentor in the alchemy lab! Back then, I only smelled of sulfur. Now I smell like shit!"

"And my Alchemy is already level 0.2! I can make basic potions now!"

Hearing his fellow countryman and classmate brag for the fifth time that day, Morgan scoffed and mercilessly shot him down.

"What good is level 0.2? Alchemy is a bottomless pit. You have to feed it materials."

"If you can't afford materials, then even talent won't do you any good."

"Just stick to digging through shit with me. Maybe we'll find a ring today."

Dutch sighed, a flicker of resentment in his eyes.

He was an ambitious man. He did not want to rot in the mud for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, his black eyes darted around as if he had come up with a brilliant idea. He straightened up and raised a finger.

"Morgan! I've got a plan!"

"I—"

"Hold it, hold it!"

Morgan cut him off, looking thoroughly impatient.

"Not one of your ideas has ever been any good!"

"Last time, you said you were going to catch a black cat and use its fur to make potions. That cat nearly scratched your eyes out."

"And the time before that, you said you were going to send a love letter to a female apprentice and marry into money. Her suitor beat you until you were begging on your knees."

"I'd rather pray I find a magic ring in this pile of silt than trust one of your stupid plans!"

With that, Morgan paid Dutch no more attention and turned to search for the next likely treasure trove.

Watching his companion walk away, Dutch felt nothing but disdain.

"Tch. A mere mortal."

"How could anyone get ahead by relying on dumb luck? You need a plan! You need to take the initiative! You need to make luck come to you!"

As he thought this, he took off the mask that was already soaked through, ready to take a breath of fresh air.

But the moment he drew a deep breath—

Dutch froze.

His nose twitched twice, and disbelief appeared in his eyes.

"Hm? That smell... Something's not right!"

In the reeking air of the sewer, there was an exceedingly faint yet incredibly powerful aroma.

It was unlike anything he had ever smelled before.

It was sweet, like onions brought alive by high heat, mixed with the charred fragrance of sizzling fat and an indescribable meaty aroma that struck straight at the soul.

"Grrr..."

Dutch's stomach let out an utterly traitorous growl.

Just one sniff had left him feeling ravenous, his stomach empty and his mouth flooding with saliva.

"That smells incredible!"

Dutch's eyes widened. Deep down, he swore it was the most delicious smell he had ever encountered in his life—even a hundred times better than the roast suckling pig he had smelled outside the fanciest tavern in the city!

"Rich people really know how to enjoy themselves..."

Dutch couldn't help sighing.

"What kind of delicacy could send such a rich aroma all the way through those long pipes and into this stinking sewer?"

Curiosity instantly overpowered his fear of the stench.

Like a hound on the scent, Dutch kept sniffing as he followed the faint aroma, feeling his way forward.

After passing several intersecting drains, he finally stopped before a smoke vent high on the wall.

That irresistible aroma was drifting out from behind the black iron grille.

Dutch looked up at the vent, his brow furrowing slightly as a trace of doubt crossed his face.

"Wait a minute..."

"This place... doesn't seem to connect to the pipes from the nobles' dormitory area."

He didn't usually come down to the sewers, but after three years as an old apprentice in the tower, he knew its general layout.

The nobles' district was on the east side, while this place... was on the west side.

"Morgan! Morgan! Come over here!"

Dutch turned and shouted. His voice echoed through the empty pipes.

Far away, Morgan had just picked up a shining shard of glass with his tongs. When he realized it was a bottle, he looked disappointed, then came over with an impatient air.

"What is it now? Have you come up with another harebrained idea?"

But when he drew near, his nose twitched and his expression changed instantly.

"Holy Father above... What is that smell? Why does it smell so good?!"

Morgan swallowed, feeling the craving in his belly come alive.

Dutch pointed at the smoke vent and asked solemnly:

"Morgan, you know this area well. Where does this vent lead?"

Morgan looked carefully at the vent's position, then checked the direction of the pipes around it.

He closed his eyes and quickly pieced together a three-dimensional map of the Wizard Tower in his mind, comparing the layout.

After a moment, he opened his eyes and answered with certainty:

"This kind of ventilation duct on the west side... If I remember right, it should lead to the Morgue."

"The Morgue?!"

At those three words, Dutch, who had just been gazing dreamily at the vent and imagining delicious food, felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over him.

His pupils dilated, and a chill ran down his back.

Morgan's expression turned just as awful, as though he had swallowed a dead fly.

"How could such a rich, meaty smell be coming from the Morgue?"

The two stared at each other, seeing deep fear and disgust in one another's eyes.

Normally, the smells from the Morgue were either the stench of corpses or the scent of preservatives. It produced the most revolting gases in the entire sewer.

But now...

Dutch swallowed with difficulty. His voice trembled as he ventured a disbelieving guess:

"Could someone be in there..."

He didn't dare finish the thought, but its meaning was clear enough.

In this Wizard Tower, full of forbidden knowledge and deranged experiments, any perverse act was possible.

Morgan's long face took on a ghostly expression, and he shook his head over and over.

"Surely not. The corpses in the Morgue are assigned to specific apprentices, and the audit office checks the records every month."

"Who would dare do something like that? They'd be risking their life!"

But Dutch's black eyes were darting around again.

His fear gradually faded, replaced by the excitement and fervor of someone who had discovered a new continent.

"Anything is possible here, my dear Morgan."

Dutch lowered his voice, speaking with a conspiratorial edge.

"If someone really is secretly doing something disgusting, blasphemous, or forbidden..."

"Then this is our chance!"

Morgan rolled his eyes at that and waved dismissively.

"Give it a rest! You're always talking about chances. How many chances do you think are going to fall into your lap?"

"Even if someone really is roasting... whatever in there, what does that have to do with us? Are you going to report them? They might silence you!"

With that, he turned to leave. He clearly wanted no part of anything that sounded so dangerous.

"Don't go!"

Dutch grabbed his old friend and fellow countryman by the sleeve, fixing him with a fervent gaze. His voice was utterly serious.

"Think about it, Morgan."

"A mysterious cannibal hiding in the Wizard Tower, secretly performing blasphemous rituals in the Morgue, possibly even stealing the tower's property..."

"If we investigate and get to the bottom of this—even if we only find out where that smell is coming from..."

"It'll be huge news!"

"If we expose it, we'll definitely become famous!"

"In a place like this, reputation is a resource! With enough fame, we can attract a mentor's attention and prove we're capable of more than just digging around in sewers!"

At those words, Morgan stopped.

He fell silent.

Though he was always putting Dutch down, didn't he also want to climb the ladder?

Who would want to spend their whole life in a sunless sewer, dredging up trash and hoping for some illusory stroke of luck?

If they really could pull this off...

It really was an opportunity.

By now, the aroma from the smoke vent had gradually faded, as if it had appeared only for a moment.

Morgan turned and looked at Dutch's calculating face, then asked tentatively:

"You... have a plan?"

At the sight of Morgan's reaction, a smug smile immediately curled the corners of Dutch's mouth.

He raised a finger and made a few gestures in the air, as if he were a sage directing the course of the world.

"First, we need to figure out when this smell appears."

"Is it every day? Only at certain times? How long does it last?"

"Then we need to find out which Morgue it's coming from—and who's in charge!"

Dutch's eyes grew brighter and brighter, and he spoke faster and faster.

"Next, we can spread this around among the apprentices as a 'mysterious legend.'"

"The main draw is this: a mysterious ogre hiding in the sewers can cook food with an aroma more tempting than a royal banquet, luring poor apprentices in."

"A bizarre, terrifying story like that will spread faster than the plague!"

"Once it becomes big news and catches the attention of the higher-ups or the enforcement squad..."

"We can step forward as the first people to discover it and provide the leads, then show them the results of our investigation!"

"Then we'll not only earn merit, we'll get noticed throughout the whole tower!"

Morgan was stunned for quite a while after hearing the plan.

In the end, he couldn't help giving Dutch a thumbs-up and saying with heartfelt admiration:

"Dutch, your ideas... finally sound reasonable for once."

"This one actually seems feasible."

Dutch lifted his chin smugly.

"Of course! I'm a future Alchemy Master!"

He clapped Morgan on the shoulder and quickly assigned the tasks:

"You figure out which morgue this air vent leads to. No need to rush, but make sure you're quick!"

"I'll put this story together and spread it through the entire circle of bottom-tier apprentices in the shortest time possible!"

"This time, we brothers are finally going to make it big!"

At those words, Morgan was already imagining himself surrounded by countless apprentices, basking in their praise and winning his mentor's favor.

"Let's do it!"

Meanwhile, elsewhere...

Achoo!

The sneeze nearly sent Tylen stumbling into a spectacular face-plant, but he kept running at full speed.

Because a pack of wild dogs was hot on his heels.

Tylen was on the verge of tears. "Damn it! The mantis catches the cicada, and now the cicada's chasing the mantis!"