If You Don't Fight, It Doesn't Mean Others Will Spare You

Old Jack cried quietly in the corner for a while, using his rough hands to wipe away the tears and snot on his face.

He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice from trembling, preserving the last shred of dignity of an old man.

"Little Ma... when will you be free?"

Tylen quickly ran through today's schedule in his mind.

"I have two mandatory basic theory classes in the morning. I'll be free after one in the afternoon."

"Good, good..." Old Jack nodded, a flicker of gratitude passing through his cloudy eyes. "Then I'll wait for you here at noon."

After saying goodbye to Old Jack, Tylen returned to the Morgue just as the pocket watch's hand pointed to 7:20.

"Time to work."

The Morgue was empty at the moment, and the activation conditions for [Slacker Saint Body] took effect once again.

Tylen swiftly dragged two specially made long black cases out from the corner.

The outer layer of these cases was wrapped in thick alchemically treated leather, while the lining was made from a rubber-like sealing material, specially designed to block corpse stench and prevent bodily fluids from leaking.

With practiced movements, he placed the stitched-up teenage corpse and the processed female corpse into separate cases, then fastened the locks.

Next, he found a smaller wooden box and carefully placed the meticulously cleaned skeleton inside, stuffing the gaps with soft fur as cushioning.

Everything was ready.

He loaded the three boxes onto the oddly shaped flatbed cart at the entrance.

It was a Magic Crystal Four-Wheeled Cart.

Its chassis came from an ordinary four-wheeled carriage, but its entire body was forged from black iron, making it light yet sturdy.

The complex gear assembly beneath the cart meshed together, connected to a fist-sized Magic Crystal Drive Device.

Inside the Wizard Tower, where horses were strictly forbidden from relieving themselves at will, this tool—with a maximum speed of thirty kilometers per hour and a load capacity of five hundred kilograms—was the logistics staff's only means of transportation.

Tylen climbed into the driver's seat, gripped the crude steering wheel with both hands, and pressed the pedal beneath his feet.

Buzz—

The gears turned with a low grinding sound.

The wheels, laden with death, slowly began to turn and rolled out of the gloomy Menial Worker District.

Once he passed through the gray wall that divided the classes, his view suddenly opened up.

The first thing he saw was a massive black tower piercing the clouds.

Cain Wizard Tower.

It was forged from a material resembling obsidian, over a hundred meters tall. Its body rose in an eerie yet elegant spiral, like a black dragon soaring toward the heavens.

Sunlight fell upon the tower, only to be swallowed entirely by its profound darkness, leaving nothing but cold, ghostly gleams refracting along its edges.

With this towering main tower at its center, countless white bluestone paths radiated outward, dividing the entire academy into distinct functional areas.

Massive oak trees and unknown magical plants were interspersed along both sides of the roads, their lush branches rustling in the breeze.

Groups of two or three apprentices in exquisite silk robes walked calmly among them, clutching thick parchment books.

They wore confident expressions as they discussed profound subjects such as "elemental arrangements" and "astral trajectories."

Beside the flowerbeds, several waist-high Brass Golems tirelessly picked up fallen leaves, keeping this ivory tower spotless.

Order, truth, elegance.

This was a hall of knowledge and a center of power.

Driving that black iron cart with its rough industrial style, Tylen looked like a boiler worker who had stumbled into Swan Lake—completely out of place.

"School, transcendence, youth..."

Tylen looked at those peers his own age, his eyes as still as a pool of stagnant water.

"Unfortunately, those glamorous words belong only to noble young masters who can afford the tuition."

The cart stopped before the grand entrance of the main tower.

Tylen jumped down and skillfully unloaded the cart.

Including the weight of the two corpses and the sealed cases, the total load was close to one hundred and fifteen kilograms.

Thanks to the pulley structure beneath the cart, Tylen had to strain somewhat, but he could still barely maintain his pace.

The moment he entered the spacious first-floor hall, a wave of noisy voices washed over him.

Quite a few apprentices waiting for class had gathered here.

They wore badges of different colors on their chests to represent their grades, while the numbers on them indicated their rankings among students of the same year.

Two clearly divided worlds met here.

One group was well dressed, chatting and laughing leisurely;

The other wore dull gray menial uniforms, carrying brooms and rags as they bent over to clean tiny specks of dust from the gaps between the crowd.

"How unlucky!"

The moment two apprentices entering the hall saw Tylen dragging that huge black case toward them, they immediately backed away with disgust written all over their faces.

"Another corpse collector."

Not far away, a pretty blonde, blue-eyed girl dramatically covered her nose, her brows tightly furrowed.

"You can smell that corpse stink from over ten meters away. It's absolutely disgusting."

The tall male apprentice standing beside her immediately seized the opportunity to show off.

He elegantly waved the Magic Staff set with a green agate and softly chanted an incantation.

"Floral Fragrance."

A cluster of dazzling magical flowers appeared out of thin air in his hand, releasing a rich fragrance that instantly diluted the nonexistent odor around them.

"Jane, may your beauty always remain as pure as these flowers, untouched by the filth of the mundane world."

"Thank you, Tom! You're so thoughtful."

The girl accepted the flowers, surprise blooming into a smile on her face. The way she looked at Tylen became even more contemptuous.

Tylen dragged the cart past them without expression, as if he had heard none of the harsh comments and seen none of that clumsy courtship display.

In a world where strength reigned supreme, a weak person's anger was the cheapest emotion.

He headed straight for the teleportation array on the left side of the hall.

The one guarding the teleportation array was a green-skinned Goblin less than a meter tall.

It wore a ridiculous tiny uniform, with a pointed mouth and monkey-like cheeks, idly picking at its nails.

Tylen respectfully handed over the pass issued by Mentor Makley.

The Goblin glanced at the parchment and muttered something in Goblin language that Tylen could not understand, probably a complaint of some sort, before impatiently waving a hand.

Tylen pulled the cart onto the teleportation array.

A flash of light.

When his vision cleared again, he had arrived on the twenty-third floor of the Wizard Tower.

This was the teaching and office area for Official Wizards, and the air was filled with the faint scents of various strange potions.

The corridor walls on either side were built from huge bluish-gray stones, each brick polished as smooth as a mirror.

The morning sunlight slanted in through tall lancet windows, cutting bands of light and shadow across the floor.

Tylen lightened his footsteps and pulled the cart down the corridor until he reached door number 2318.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Three knocks, neither too soft nor too heavy.

"Come in."

Mentor Makley's steady voice came from inside.

Tylen pushed open the heavy oak door. The first thing he saw was a spacious, brightly lit laboratory.

At the lectern stood Markley Kane, the middle-aged man in a spotless white wizard's robe and crystal spectacles.

He was just over forty, with a square face and neatly combed brown hair, giving off the impression of a refined scholar.

But at the moment, this mentor's situation did not seem particularly good.

Across from him stood three other Official Wizards in white robes.

Two men and one woman. Though they wore smiles, there was no concealing their aggressive manner.

"Greetings, esteemed mentor."

Tylen first gave Makley a respectful bow before turning to the other three and bowing slightly.

"Greetings to the three of you as well."

"Mentor, the experimental materials you required have been prepared."

Makley nodded slightly, a trace of barely noticeable exhaustion flashing through his eyes. "Bring them in."

Tylen turned and laboriously dragged the two heavy sealed cases into the classroom.

His weak body, combined with the continuous hauling, caused a layer of fine sweat to form on his forehead, and his breathing became labored.

"Oh, Makley."

The middle-aged witch standing by the window, wearing delicate makeup, suddenly spoke.

She covered her mouth with an emerald folding fan from the Elf Race, her tone carrying a touch of sighing pity.

"Is this your only Corpse Collector Apprentice? Looking at how frail the child is, I'm worried he'll collapse and die in your laboratory any second now."

The long-faced male wizard beside her smiled and took over.

"No wonder the higher-ups sent us to inspect your use of supplies."

"How could an apprentice who struggles even with carrying things possibly handle so many experimental materials properly?"

"If the Wizard Tower's reputation suffers because the experimental materials are improperly handled, affecting the experimental results, that would be terrible."

As he spoke, he exaggeratedly took a step back and waved a hand in front of his nose, as if he could already smell some unbearable stench.

"I'm truly worried that once he opens the cases, the smell from that pile of rotten flesh inside will knock us unconscious."

"Makley, you know I'm terribly allergic to corpse stench."

The corner of Makley's eye twitched slightly.

He was a typical scholarly wizard who kept to his duties. His personality was somewhat detached, he was not good with words, and he was even less willing to participate in the factional struggles within the tower.

But in this Wizard Tower, where resources were limited, not fighting did not mean others would spare you.

Clearly, these two colleagues had come with a mission.

The so-called inspection of material consumption was merely an excuse. Their real goal was to cut his resource allocation for the next quarter.

"The materials are all here."

Makley's expression remained unchanged as he tried to maintain his authority as a mentor, but his confidence was clearly lacking.

He knew the old dull and clumsy Tylen too well. Bringing the corpses here intact was already the limit of what he could manage. As for how well they had been processed...

He could only pray that they would not look too bad.

"Tylen, open the cases."

Makley's voice carried a helpless resignation, as though he were leaving it to fate.

The higher-ups had only sent notice yesterday. He had not known someone would come looking for trouble today, so he had not given any special instructions.

Tylen lowered his head, the corners of his mouth lifting in an almost imperceptible curve.

He had keenly caught the scent of tension in the air and seen through his mentor's awkward situation.

This is an opportunity.

Tylen murmured to himself inwardly.

He slowly walked over to the cases, his fingers resting on the cold lock.

"As you command, Mentor."