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

Old Jack cried silently in the corner for a while, his rough hands haphazardly wiping away the tears and snot from his face.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice from trembling too much, maintaining the last vestiges of dignity of an old man.

"Little Ma...when will you have time?"

Tyron quickly went through today's schedule in his mind.

"I have two required basic theory classes in the morning, and I'll be free after 1 p.m.

"Okay, okay..." Old Jack nodded, a hint of gratitude flashing in his cloudy eyes: "Then I'll wait for you here at noon."

After saying goodbye to old Jack, Tyrone returned to the morgue, and the hands of his pocket watch pointed to 7:20.

"Let's get to work."

The morgue was empty at this moment, and the conditions for the "Slacking Off Holy Body" were applied again.

Tyron quickly dragged two specially made black trunks out of the corner.

The outer layer of this box is wrapped in heavy leather that has been treated with gold, while the inner lining is a rubber-like sealing material, specifically designed to isolate the odor of corpses and prevent leakage of bodily fluids.

He deftly placed the stitched-up boy's body and the treated female corpse into the box respectively, and fastened the lock.

Next, he found a small wooden box, carefully placed the meticulously cleaned skeleton inside, and stuffed the gaps with soft velvet as cushioning.

Everything is ready.

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

This is a magic crystal four-wheeled vehicle.

Its chassis is derived from a regular four-wheeled carriage, but it is made entirely of black iron, making it both lightweight and sturdy.

The complex gears under the vehicle mesh together, connecting to a fist-sized magic crystal drive unit.

Inside this wizard's tower, where horses are strictly prohibited from defecating at will, this tool, with a maximum speed of 30 kilometers per hour and a load capacity of 500 kilograms, is the only mobile vehicle available to the logistics personnel.

Tyron sat in the driver's seat, gripped the simple steering wheel with both hands, and pressed the pedal.

hum-

The gears turned, producing a low, grinding sound.

The wheels, laden with death, turned slowly, driving out of the dark, menial quarters.

Passing through the gray wall that separates social classes, the view suddenly opens up.

The first thing that catches the eye is that colossal black tower that pierces the clouds.

Kane's Wizard Tower.

It is cast entirely from obsidian-like material, and is over 100 meters tall. The tower has a strange yet elegant spiral structure, like a black dragon soaring into the sky.

Sunlight shone on the tower, but was swallowed up by its deep blackness, only reflecting cold, eerie light at the edges.

Centered on this majestic main tower, countless white flagstone paths radiate outwards, dividing the entire academy into distinct functional areas.

On both sides of the road, huge oak trees and unknown magical plants are interspersed, and the lush branches and leaves rustle in the breeze.

Apprentices dressed in exquisite silk robes, carrying heavy parchment books, strolled leisurely among the crowd.

They looked confident as they discussed profound topics such as "the arrangement of elements" or "astronomical trajectories."

Beside the flowerbeds by the roadside, several half-human-sized brass statues tirelessly pick up fallen leaves, keeping this ivory tower spotless.

Order, truth, elegance.

This is a temple of knowledge, and also a center of power.

Tyron, driving that rugged, industrial-style black metal car, looked like a boiler operator who had wandered into Swan Lake, completely out of place.

"School, extraordinary, youth..."

Tyron looked at his peers, his eyes as calm as a stagnant pool.

"Unfortunately, these glamorous words belong only to the young noblemen who can afford the tuition."

The car stopped in front of the main tower's magnificent gate.

Tyron jumped off the truck and skillfully unloaded the cargo compartment.

Including the weight of the two corpses and the sealed box, the total load was close to 230 pounds.

Thanks to the pulley structure at the bottom of the carriage, Tyron was able to maintain a decent speed, even though he was pulling with some difficulty.

Stepping into the spacious first-floor lobby, you are greeted by a cacophony of voices.

There were many apprentices gathered here, waiting to start their classes.

They wore badges of different colors on their chests, representing their grade level, and the numbers on them indicated their ranking within that grade.

Two distinct worlds converge here.

A group of well-dressed people were chatting and laughing leisurely.

Another group of people, dressed in drab rags, carried brooms and rags, bending over to clean the fine dust from the gaps in the crowd.

"What bad luck!"

The two apprentices who had just entered the door saw Tyron pulling that huge black box as he approached and immediately retreated with disgust.

"Another corpse collector."

Not far away, a pretty blonde girl with blue eyes dramatically covered her nose, her brows furrowed:

"You can smell the stench of this corpse from more than ten meters away, it's absolutely disgusting."

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

He gracefully waved the wand inlaid with green agate in his hand and whispered a spell.

"The fragrance of flowers".

A cluster of dazzling magical flowers appeared out of thin air in his hand, emitting a rich fragrance that instantly diluted any non-existent odors in the surroundings.

"Jane, may your beauty always be as pure as this flower, untouched by the filth of the world."

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

The girl accepted the flowers, a delighted smile spreading across her face, while her gaze toward Tyron became even more disdainful.

Tyron pulled his car past them expressionlessly, as if he hadn't heard the jarring comments or seen the clumsy courtship performance.

In this world where might makes right, the anger of the weak is the cheapest emotion.

He walked straight to the teleportation array on the left side of the hall.

The person in charge of guarding the teleportation array was a green-skinned goblin who was less than a meter tall.

It was dressed in a ridiculous little uniform, with a pointed snout and monkey-like face, and was picking at its nails with utter boredom.

Tyronn respectfully handed over the pass signed by his mentor, Markley.

The goblin glanced at the parchment, muttered something in goblin language that Tyrion couldn't understand, probably complaining about something, and then waved his hand impatiently.

Tyron pulled the carriage onto the teleportation array.

A flash of light.

When his vision cleared, he had already reached the 23rd floor of the Wizard Tower.

This is the teaching and office area for formal wizards, and the air is filled with faint, strange aromas of various potions.

The walls on both sides of the corridor are made of huge piles of bluish-gray rocks, each stone brick polished smooth as a mirror.

The morning sunlight streamed obliquely through the tall, willow-leaf windows, cutting out streaks of light and shadow on the ground.

Tyron slowed his pace, pulling the carriage along the corridor to the door of number 2318.

"Thump, thump, thump."

Three knocks on the door, each with a moderate volume.

"Come in."

The steady voice of Professor Markley came from inside the door.

Tyron pushed open the heavy oak door, and the first thing that caught his eye was a spacious and bright laboratory.

On the stage, the middle-aged man in a pristine white wizard's robe and crystal glasses was none other than Macley Kane.

He was in his early forties, with a square face and meticulously combed brown hair, giving him the impression of a refined scholar.

But at this moment, the mentor's situation doesn't seem to be very good.

Opposite him stood three other formal wizards dressed in white robes.

Two men and one woman, though smiling, couldn't hide their aggressive aura.

"Greetings, esteemed mentor."

Tyron first bowed respectfully to Markley, and then turned to the other three and bowed slightly.

"I also extend my greetings to the three lords."

"Mentor, the experimental materials you requested have been prepared by your student."

MacLehley nodded slightly, a barely perceptible hint of weariness flashing in his eyes: "Bring him in."

Tyron turned around and laboriously dragged the two heavy, sealed boxes into the classroom.

His weakened body, coupled with the continuous carrying, caused a fine layer of sweat to seep from his forehead, and his breathing became rapid.

"Oh, Mackley."

The middle-aged witch leaning against the window, wearing delicate makeup, suddenly spoke.

The elven woman covered her mouth with her emerald green folding fan, her tone tinged with a sigh:

"Is this your only apprentice for collecting corpses? Looking at this child's frail body, I'm worried he'll work himself to death in your lab any second."

The long-faced male wizard next to him also smiled and chimed in:

"No wonder the higher-ups sent us to check your supplies usage."

"How could an apprentice who struggles even to move things possibly handle so many experimental materials?"

"It would be terrible if the Wizard Tower's reputation was affected by the unsightly experimental materials, thus impacting the experimental results."

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

"I'm really worried that when he opens the box, the smell of all that rotten meat inside will knock us out."

"Markley, you know I'm terribly allergic to the smell of corpses."

Markley's eye twitched slightly.

He was a typical, conscientious, academic wizard with a somewhat Buddhist personality. He was not good at speaking and was even less inclined to participate in factional struggles within the tower.

But in this resource-limited wizard tower, just because you don't fight for resources doesn't mean others will let you off the hook.

Clearly, these two colleagues came with a mission.

The so-called inspection of material waste is just an excuse to reduce his resource allocation for the next quarter.

"The materials are all here."

Markley remained expressionless, attempting to maintain his mentor's authority, but his confidence was clearly somewhat lacking.

He knew the clumsy, awkward Tyron from before all too well; bringing the body back intact was already the limit, as for how well it was disposed of...

He could only pray that it wouldn't look too bad.

"Tyron, open the box."

Markley's voice carried a sense of resignation and helplessness.

Yesterday, he was only given a notice and didn't know that someone would come to cause trouble today, so he didn't give any special instructions.

Tyron lowered his head, a barely perceptible smile curving his lips.

He keenly sensed the tension in the air and saw through his mentor's awkward situation.

"This is the opportunity."

Tyron silently recited this in his mind.

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

"Yes, Master."