The Wizard: Starting as a Corpse Collector Apprentice and Paying for a Monthly Subscription

Outside the warehouse, the midday sun was quite dazzling.

Tyron sat on the dilapidated cart, toying with a dark red pebble in his hand. He had picked it up from beside the gangster's corpse; it seemed to be the remnant of some kind of cheap amulet.

He didn't have to wait long.

About ten minutes later, a series of hurried and chaotic footsteps came from the alley entrance.

"Hurry! It's just ahead! That thing is still inside!"

The sound through the black glass betrayed an undisguised terror.

Tyron raised his head, his gaze calmly sweeping over the group of uninvited guests.

The one leading the group was Black Glass.

His left arm was wrapped in thick bandages, with faint traces of blood seeping out, clearly indicating that he had been injured in the chaos just now.

Behind him followed five thugs dressed in leather armor and wielding machetes, each looking tense and as if facing a formidable enemy.

Beside the black glass figure stood a young man dressed in a gray wizard's robe.

The man was around thirty years old, with messy blond hair that looked like a bird's nest, and he held a short magic wand inlaid with cheap amethyst.

Although he looked somewhat unkempt, the magical energy emanating from him was undeniably real.

"Sir, this has nothing to do with me!"

Black Glass ran while arguing, spittle flying everywhere.

"That old geezer didn't want to live anymore, who knew he'd turn into that monster after he died! Mr. Ars, you have to save us!"

The young wizard, called Ars, gave him a cold glance, his tone as icy as if he were scolding a dog:

"Shut up. How many times have I told you? Collecting protection money is fine, but don't go too far."

"Too much resentment will attract the covetousness of the abyss, and if it causes a zombie resurrection, you bunch of useless trash simply can't handle it."

"Yes, yes, you're right..." Black Glass nodded and bowed, completely losing his previous arrogance.

Just then, they turned the corner and saw Tyron sitting on the cart with a calm expression.

The pupils of the black glass suddenly dilated.

"It's you?!"

New and old grudges surged into my heart in an instant.

If it weren't for that body collector interfering yesterday, Old Jack would have been dealt with long ago, and there wouldn't be this trouble today.

And just now in the warehouse, this kid actually dared to ignore his cries for help!

"Damn it, I'll kill you!"

Black Glass roared, and with his only intact right hand, he swung his fist and smashed it down toward Tyrion's head without warning.

The punch was delivered with a whooshing sound, clearly intended to kill.

In his view, Tyron was nothing more than a corpse collector with some strength, and still a weakling in the face of real violence.

However, he was wrong.

That's completely wrong.

Tyron sat on the cart without even moving his buttocks.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a cold glint flashing within them.

"court death."

He silently recited the mantra, and magic surged forth instantly.

[Magic Thorn Technique]

hum!

A very faint buzzing sound rang out.

Ars, standing at the back, changed his expression. His keen senses as a wizard apprentice allowed him to instantly detect the fluctuations in magic.

"Stop! It's magical..."

But his warning came too late.

Tyronn raised his left hand with lightning speed, his five fingers joined together, and a layer of transparent blade, barely visible to the naked eye, condensed at the edge of his palm.

There were no unnecessary movements, just a simple wave.

puff!

It's like a hot knife slicing through butter.

The thick arm of the black glass, which was swinging in a wide arc, suddenly broke in two in mid-air.

Blood gushed out instantly, like a high-pressure water tap being turned on.

"ah!!!"

Black Glass didn't realize what was happening until the severed arm hit the ground with a dull thud.

He clutched his bleeding wound, letting out a pig-like scream, and staggered backward, his face filled with disbelief and terror.

He didn't even see what happened.

I only felt a blur before my eyes, and then my hand was gone.

"What...what kind of evil magic is this?!"

The thugs around were also terrified by this scene; their hands, gripping their knives, trembled, and they dared not take a step forward.

Tyron slowly withdrew his hand, casually flicking away the few drops of blood that had not yet congealed from his fingertips.

His expression remained calm, as if he had just severed not a human arm, but a withered tree branch.

"Sir."

Tyron raised his head, his gaze passing over the black glass where screams were heard, and looked directly at the blond youth.

"Aren't you wine enthusiasts a bit too domineering?"

Ars did not speak.

He stared intently at Tyron's seemingly ordinary hand, his eyes filled with apprehension.

The sharpness that burst forth just now even surpassed that of a regular level one wind blade technique!

"Save lives first."

Ars took a deep breath and waved his wand.

An invisible force pulled the severed arm from the ground into the air, precisely fitting it onto the wound on the black glass.

"The Light of Healing".

Accompanied by an obscure incantation, a soft white light enveloped the wound.

Granulation tissue moves and blood vessels connect.

In just over ten seconds, the horrific wound on the black glass miraculously stopped bleeding and healed. Although it left a hideous scar, the arm was saved.

"It seems to be some kind of healing magic."

Tyron secretly assessed that at his current level, he didn't have much information or knowledge about magic. He only knew that magic was divided into ten levels according to its power, with level one being the lowest and level ten being the highest.

But he didn't know how to classify them, and he didn't even know what level of magic his Demon Thorn Technique was.

But what Tyrone could be sure of was that the fact that he could master this healing magic meant that this guy was indeed quite skilled and should be a person of status in the gang.

After treating his injuries, Ars turned around and looked at Tyron with a serious expression.

"I am Ars from Winterglow Town, a sixth-level wizard apprentice. Who are you?"

Level 6 apprentice.

This is already an unattainable level for Tyronn.

Tyron stood up, dusted off his robes, and gave a standard wizard's greeting:

"Magnus of Cairn Tower. An ordinary corpse-collecting apprentice."

"Just average?"

Ars's eye twitched.

He recalled the description of the black glass on the road earlier, saying that the kid was just a poor wretch with no connections.

Fuck you poor bastard!

What poor wretch could casually and precisely unleash such concealed magic?

What family apprentice who collects corpses could remain calm in the face of such a scene?

"I've never seen a corpse-collecting apprentice who possesses such sharp magic," Ars probed.

Tyronn shrugged, his tone relaxed:

"To make a living like this, you need some kind of survival skill. Otherwise, I would have been beaten to death by this guy with the black glass just now, wouldn't I?"

Black Glass, standing to the side, was deathly pale, clutching his newly reattached arm. Hearing this, he shrank back behind Ars in fear.

He's now kicking himself for it.

If I had known this kid was a cunning wolf in sheep's clothing, I wouldn't have dared to make a move even if I had ten times the courage!

In this world, those who can use magic and those who cannot are completely different species.

The former is the hunter, the latter is the prey.

Ars gave Tyron a deep look, but didn't dwell on the matter.

"What are you doing on our Wine Guild's turf?"

"Keep your promises."

Tyron turned around, took a package from the pile of junk on the cart, and threw it over.

Ars caught it instinctively.

"These are the one hundred rune frames I promised to draw for Black Glass."

Tyronn's tone suddenly turned cold, his gaze piercing like a knife as he looked at the black glass behind it:

"As payment for his promise to spare Old Jack's wife's body."

"While some people may be treacherous, I, Magnus, am different. I keep my word."

Upon hearing this, and combining it with what Black Glass had told him on the road, Ars instantly understood the whole story.

He glared fiercely at the black glass.

A fool who's good for nothing but causing trouble!

For the sake of two corpses, he not only killed so many underlings, but also offended a wizard apprentice with great potential!

Ars opened the package and pulled out several rune papers.

The next second, his pupils dilated sharply.

Shock.

This is not just acceptable, it's a work of art!

Every line is smooth and natural, every node is incredibly precise, and the layout of the Magic Loop is even more perfect than in textbooks.

This skill in brushwork, this mastery of the rune structure...

Ars asked himself, even he, a level six apprentice, couldn't do this!

"Did you draw all of these?" Ars asked curiously.

"Um."

Tyron replied casually, sat back on the cart, and pulled on the reins.

"I've dealt with Old Jack's evil spirit. There are four bodies in the car now."

"The bodies of the old Jacks are neutralized using these runic frames."

"The other two are your underlings. Consider it payment for cleaning up your messes."

After saying that, he flicked the reins and didn't even glance at Ars.

"drive!"

The old horse strode forward, and the cart slowly started moving.

"etc!"

Ars suddenly stepped forward and blocked the carriage.

This time, his face no longer showed the coldness and arrogance of before, but instead displayed a warm smile.

"Magnus, don't rush off."

"There might have been a misunderstanding before. I didn't have any ill intentions towards you."

Ars is a smart man.

From Tyronn's composed demeanor to his stunning hand-blade magic, and then to his precise rune-drawing technique.

Everything proves that this young man is no ordinary person.

The old mine is located right at the foot of the Wizarding Tower of Kane. Being able to make friends here with someone who might become a formal wizard in the future is definitely a worthwhile investment.

"Misunderstand?"

Tyron reined in his horse, looked down at Ars, and a mocking smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

"I was originally looking forward to cooperating with your gang on body recovery."

"But unfortunately, I will not give a second chance to someone who is treacherous and fails to keep their promises."

That's a very strong statement.

But it is precisely because of its weight that his confidence is evident.

Ars felt a chill run down his spine, but smiled and said:

"I understand your anger. It's all because that idiot Black Glass is so ignorant. I'll deal with him according to the gang rules when we get back."

"Don't worry, I will be your partner from now on."

"I know your excellence and value. Therefore, I believe we can establish a very promising prospect for cooperation."

Tyron did not answer immediately.

He watched Ars quietly, his fingers tapping lightly on his knees, as if weighing the pros and cons.

In reality, he was overjoyed.

This is exactly the effect he wanted.

By demonstrating military force to deter troublemakers, showcasing technology to elevate one's status, and finally employing a strategy of feigned indifference to gain the upper hand, the initiative is firmly grasped in one's own hands.

It's almost done.

Tyron's cold expression softened slightly, and he said accordingly:

"It is my honor that Your Excellency Ars holds me in such high regard."

"I believe that as a Level 6 apprentice, your character should be far superior to those thugs."

Hearing this, Ars breathed a sigh of relief, and his smile became even brighter:

"That's natural."

"Now that the misunderstanding has been cleared up, let's take the first step towards cooperation..."

Ars shook the rune paper in his hand, a glint of light flashing in his eyes:

"Could you draw another hundred rune frames of this quality for me today?"

"In return, I can give you 50 purple gold coins."

50 Purple Gold Coins.

Tyron quickly calculated in his mind.

On the market, the price for an average apprentice to draw one hundred basic frames is about 30 purple gold coins. Ars's price is nearly double that.

This is a rather generous offer for cooperation.

"If you can provide rune paper."

Tyronn nodded and extended his right hand:

"I can accept this cooperation."

"make a deal!"

Ars shook Tyron's hand with a smile.