Ruthless to Others, Even More Ruthless to Himself

Tolia held her hands above her head, presenting the Meditation Method.

Before Ahab could do anything, a large hand reached out from the side, snatched away the Meditation Method, and stuffed it into its owner's clothes.

It was Bill, a muscular blond man standing over six feet three.

Before Tolia's Meditation Method had even warmed his hands, Bill turned to Ahab aggressively and said:

"You hand over your Meditation Method too. I'll study it after I become group leader."

Gray shook out his hand and stepped aside to observe in silence.

What affected a wizard's development was not merely aptitude and knowledge, but also one's command and use of rules.

"Same old rules. No killing. The rest is up to you."

"Even when you reach the academy, the rules will still be the same."

Bill cracked his knuckles and advanced toward Ahab one step at a time.

Ahab could not help recalling what he had seen in the Future Diary not long ago.

[The next day, the instructor gave the Meditation Method to the apprentices who had survived the disaster and announced that the first three to master it would become the group leader and deputy group leaders.]

[My aptitude was terrible, and there were still twenty people left on the ship. Naturally, I wasn't qualified to compete.]

[Ah, being group leader was such a wonderful thing. The Magic Stone allowance was three times that of an ordinary apprentice—the difference was like earning 3,500 a month versus 10,000.]

The moment Ahab saw that description, he had already made up his mind—

Being an honest deputy group leader would not be bad, but becoming group leader would give him far more room to flourish.

[Yet the final result was unexpected. The first person to master the Meditation Method was not Tolia, who had the highest aptitude, but someone named Bill.]

[Aptitude had a huge impact on learning the Meditation Method. Tolia's aptitude was leagues ahead of Bill's, who ranked second. Under normal circumstances, she would definitely have been first.]

[But Bill pried open Tolia's cabin door with wire and beat her up every so often.]

[Poor Little Potato was barely five feet tall. How could she possibly be a match for a six-foot-three blond brute? She hid in the washroom, bawling in pain. Her Meditation Method progress reset several times, and she nearly failed to secure even third place.]

Ahab had only one assessment of this:

Bill was quite the character!

He just wondered whether a character like Bill would bawl after taking his full combination of punches.

As Bill drew closer, Ahab bent deeply at the waist in a thoroughly humble manner.

"Strong sir, my aptitude is poor. My progress is slow to begin with, and one slow step leads to every step being slow. I might not even learn many spells by the time I reach the academy."

"Please pity me and let me start studying as soon as possible."

After speaking, Ahab puffed out his cheeks as though he were swallowing nervously in fear.

"Don't give me that act!"

Bill rolled up his sleeves and refused to let the matter go.

"If you don't want a beating, hand over the Meditation Method obediently!"

Bill came from a knightly family and had trained both his combat skills and physical fitness well.

At the same time, Bill was not some simple-minded brute. Beneath his rough exterior lay a careful mind, and he had his own considerations.

Wasn't someone like Ahab exactly the sort of sinister, crafty coward who bullied the weak and feared the strong?

People like that had to be dealt with using thunderous methods and made to suffer.

He had to be taught fear!

Even if Ahab obediently handed over the Meditation Method, Bill still planned to beat him up badly enough that he would not be able to get out of bed for three days.

If he did not make Ahab suffer a little, the fellow would keep thinking about scheming against people every other day. It was truly irritating!

Bill deeply understood the principle that throwing one beautiful punch could save a hundred more.

Bill came closer and closer, but Ahab, whose cheeks had remained puffed out and whose face was beaded with sweat, suddenly raised his head.

He calculated the distance precisely, opened his mouth, and spat out a mouthful of blood that splashed across Bill's face.

At the same time, the horrifying wound on Ahab's tongue could be seen through the corner of his open mouth.

Ahab had been biting his tongue the entire time he had puffed out his cheeks!

Bill's vision was obstructed, forcing him to reach up and wipe the blood from his face.

By the time Bill regained his sight, Ahab had already run to the corner at the end of the corridor.

"Humph!"

Bill snorted and strode after him.

Trying to compete with someone trained as a knight in stamina, Ahab Gul? You're quite interesting, kid.

"Bill lost."

Gray, who had been observing in silence nearby, said that.

As soon as the words fell, he took out an Imaging Crystal Ball and pressed his hand backward.

The moisture in the air swiftly condensed and froze into two chairs.

"Tolia, come over and see why Bill lost."

Instructor Gray tilted his chin, signaling for Tolia to sit.

There was not even a title on the document about Ahab becoming a Demon Hunter Wizard, while Bill's aggressive personality might get him killed someday.

Tolia had to be cultivated properly. In the end, she was still the one most likely to achieve something.

Tolia obediently felt along the edge of the chair and sat down, instinctively wanting to cross her legs.

Then she quickly remembered her mother's teachings. Girls could not be so inelegant.

Tolia pulled a strip of white silk from her sleeve, pressed her feet together, tied her ankles with the silk, and made a pretty bow.

That way, she would not cross her legs.

The lower deck.

The wooden corridor was pitch-dark, with never-extinguishing candles embedded in the walls.

As the candle flames flickered, Bill's shadow looked exceedingly strange.

"Damn it, where did that brat Ahab run off to?"

There was only one spiral staircase leading down to the lower deck, yet after Ahab entered it, he had vanished without a trace.

"There's no point searching endlessly. Even if you can go without eating, you'll have to come out for water eventually!"

Bill decided that over the next few days, he would guard the dining cabin on the first level, where all the food and water were gathered.

The dining cabin was also where Ahab Gul had poisoned a large number of apprentices.

Bill intended to give Ahab a show of force there.

The tapping footsteps faded into the distance. Another seven or eight minutes passed, and a shadow flashed across the ceiling of the lower-deck corridor.

A small, thin figure landed steadily on the ground.

It was Ahab Gul.

Not long ago, he had gripped protrusions with both hands, braced his feet against the walls, and hung directly above Bill.

His back had even been only two or three fists' distance from the top of Bill's head.

"Tall people are used to looking down, so they rarely look up."

Ahab calculated silently.

Clearly, Bill did not know how King of Western Hello had contracted tuberculosis.

But it would take some time for the poison to act. For now, he had to...

Ahab entered a small room at the end of the lower deck. The reason he had run down here was for this storage room.

Before long, Ahab found what he needed: needle and thread.

"To ensure there was enough blood to spray, I bit two large wounds into my tongue. Their combined length had to exceed five centimeters."

"I need to make do with needle and thread first, then remove them later and have the wounds stitched again with medical supplies."

Using the faint candlelight, Ahab threaded the needle. He inserted the pad of his index finger into his mouth and slowly located the wounds along the tip of his tongue.

Then the needle tip lifted.

Pierce, pick open, stitch.

Finally, he tied the fine thread into a knot, bit down on it, and pulled hard.

It was done.

The nerve endings on the tongue were sensitive and densely distributed, but the pain was not unbearable overall.

Thinking back to the last year before his transmigration, he had gone to Mexico to break new ground and had his thigh shot through by an AK.

To stop the bleeding and save his life, he had no choice but to pour out the gunpowder from the bullet and cauterize the wound with it...

But everything had meaning. He would never suffer for the sake of suffering or seek out pain for no reason.

"Mr. Bill, my friend, in order to fight for the position of group leader, I bit through my own tongue and stitched it up myself. I've already suffered this tiny bit."

"So tell me, what kind of suffering should you endure next?"

Ahab muttered to himself. Then he reached behind his back, took out a wood-chopping knife, and tucked it behind his waist, his voice thick with a lisp.