He cast a Cleaning Spell on Saul, finally helping him escape the mire of mud and sludge.
“I noticed you disappeared earlier, so I figured you might’ve fallen in. But you really stirred things up down there. I’ve never seen anyone make the Soul-Devouring Mire that lively before.”
What could Saul even say to that?
“Haha, I’m not really sure what happened—must’ve been an accident.”
The gardener gave an awkward laugh too, not pressing further, and instead changed the subject.
“Have you chosen your companion flower?”
“Oh, right. Yes, I’ve made my choice.”
Though he’d just gone through a little adventure, Saul hadn’t forgotten about the flower bud that had caught his eye—vigorous and full of life.
The gardener was efficient, bringing over a small square flowerpot and carefully transplanting the companion flower into it for Saul.
The freshly moved flower bud looked a little wilted. The gardener imdiately chanted a spell, casting a bit of magic to help the bud regain its vitality.
“This is a small bag of flower fertilizer.” He handed Saul a palm-sized bag.
Saul took it and peeked inside.
The fertilizer was a pale red loamy mix, speckled with fine granules.
Saul couldn’t help but recall one of his possible deaths—being turned into fertilizer.
He gave the fertilizer a silent two seconds of mourning, then tucked the bag away.
“Mr. Gardener, are you also an apprentice here?”
Saul thought tending the garden looked like a pretty good gig—seed relaxing, and it let you stay out of the sunless, oppressive Wizard Tower for long stretches.
But the man looked to be in his forties or fifties—could he be a Third Rank apprentice? That seed like a serious waste of talent.
The gardener just chuckled good-naturedly.
“Hehe, I was—when I was alive.”
Saul jolted so hard he almost dropped the flowerpot.
He quietly took two steps back and gave the gardener a respectful bow.
“Thank you for everything today. I’ll be heading back to find ntor Kaz now.”
The gardener didn’t seem to realize he’d just said sothing shocking. He simply smiled and nodded, watching Saul walk away at a brisk pace.
As he watched Saul’s retreating back, his eyes suddenly narrowed.
From the back of Saul’s neck, a black, slick tendril about the width of a thumb suddenly snaked out.
It swayed in the air twice before retreating again.
The gardener’s pleasant smile faded into nothing.
He opened his mouth slightly, as if he wanted to call out but in the end, no sound ca out.
He slowly turned and walked back to the little wooden cabin, sitting stiffly on the tiny bench inside, gazing at the garden with a serene smile.
As the sun set, the garden fell silent except for the rustling of wind and leaves.
The gardener remained stiffly seated, bathed in moonlight—
There was no gardener. He was clearly a scarecrow made of straw!
Tufts of grass protruded from the seams of his clothes and pants. His eyes were two gray stones, and his nose was a long tree branch.
The whole scarecrow had a waxy, yellow hue.
Soone had painted a garish smile on his face using blood-red paint.
The evening breeze swept through, and the companion flowers bobbed their heads in dance, while the scent of fresh bread filled the garden.
…
anwhile—
Saul returned to the morgue with his carefully chosen companion flower.
He decided to raise the flower here. Although the morgue wasn’t particularly filled with corpse gas, he figured its atmosphere suited the companion flower’s tastes—maybe it would grow faster.
The flower he’d chosen resembled a peony. Its bud was especially large, and its petals were a buttery yellow, tinged pink and white at the tips.
Saul placed it in a corner of the room and mixed in a little fertilizer.
The bud, previously drooping without sunlight, perked right up again.
Saul found it amusing. He playfully nudged the bud with his finger before returning to his experint table.
He resud his research on his left hand.
After all, this was a spirit resin even the journal had deed noteworthy—it had to be valuable. If it could absorb other soul fragnts, it might offer Saul another channel for gathering information about the world.
The problem was that spirit resin was far beyond his current knowledge. After a long ti studying, Saul still had no real direction.
He’d have to ask a senior or a ntor or maybe check the library for any related texts.
Even low-quality spirit resin had already brought him substantial benefits. If he could improve the quality of spirit resin produced from plastic bones, then his body modification projects could reach a whole new level.
Taking this opportunity to reconstruct his left hand and boost his magic again... if it worked well, Saul was even considering including his right hand in the upgrade.
Knock knock knock.
A knocking sound interrupted his research.
“Who is it?” Saul closed his notebook.
“It’s Hayden.”
His senior from next door?
Hayden hadn’t approached him directly before—was there an issue with corpse handling?
Saul walked over and cautiously opened the door.
Hayden wore a slightly forced smile. “I-I heard you ca in first during the entrance test. Congratulations.”
Just a friendly visit?
“Thank you. Is there sothing I can help you with?” Saul asked directly.
“Ah, we’re both First Rank apprentices now. No need to keep calling ‘senior’ all the ti. Just call Hayden.”
Saul smiled but didn’t answer.
“I actually wanted to ask if you’ve considered working in the second morgue?”
“Why do you ask? Are you planning to leave?”
“Not exactly. I just think there are better materials to be found in the second morgue. So if you’re interested, I’d be willing to swap with you.”
So it was a friendly offer.
Was a newcor’s first-place ranking really that influential?
No, it had to be more than that.
Saul thought back to Anze’s invitation, to Rum’s relatively sincere one, and to ntor Kaz deliberately using the flower selection trip as an excuse to warn him not to change ntors...
It must’ve been the ntors’ sudden interest that made Hayden want to trade jobs, hoping to curry favor.
Saul was tempted, but also wary of hidden motives.
Then he rembered—his current focus was on spirit resin, and its main component was plastic bones.
The key ingredient in plastic bones? Bones with spiritual properties.
If he stayed in the third morgue, then aside from the blind and deaf brute outside, no one else would know what condition the bodies were in after going into the big box.
But if he moved to the second morgue—Hayden’s downstream post—it’d be easy for Hayden to deduce what materials Saul was harvesting.
And spirit resin was the core of his body modification project. He didn’t want to risk exposing that to others.
With that in mind, Saul smiled politely and shook his head.
“No need, Hayden. Based on ability and experience, you’re much more suited for the second morgue. I’m fine right where I am.”
Hayden hadn’t expected a refusal. He was a bit surprised, but also sowhat pleased.
After all, from his perspective, the second morgue still offered more benefits.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Saul saw Hayden out.
At no point did he invite Hayden into the room.
Once the door closed, Saul returned to studying body modifications.
But if he really wanted to upgrade his right hand next, he’d need to prepare another material.
Tonight, Saul finally received a First Rank apprentice as a client. He packaged up the client’s brain and headed that night to Kongsha’s dormitory.
This was the first ti Saul had gone to see Kongsha voluntarily and alone since killing Sid.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous but Kongsha was still extrely useful.
When she opened the door and saw Saul, the eyeballs in her milky-white fluid swirled around a few tis.
“You ca quickly. I thought you’d be hiding out for a few days in regret.”
She stepped aside and gestured him in.
Saul walked to the center of the room and placed the box he was holding on the table, opening it to reveal a round object wrapped in pale yellow leather.
A faint stench imdiately drifted out.
(End of Chapter)
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