Sorcerer’s Handbook

Red Mist Research Institute, Laboratory 13.

Lanen pushed the cart and swung open the laboratory doors, placing the three body bags on the long table and exhaling, “Professor, the new materials have arrived!”

“Good.”

Lorens emerged from the inner room, his eyes as large as copper bells briefly scanning the ten body bags on the table. He sniffed, detecting the stench of death and decay, and nodded, “What about the dolphin?”

“The female dolphin you requested has been delivered in a tank, but it was too large to move up here easily. Do you need to study a recently deceased dolphin, Professor? When will you need it?”

“Not for now, you take care of her.”

“Alright. Are you planning to study a live dolphin, Professor? Should we move the tank up here?”

“No need to bring it up.”

Not for research material, nor to be moved to the laboratory?

“Yes, of course,” Lorens replied indifferently, “but remember to send her to my house later.”

Damn!

As an exemplary human graduate student, Lanen felt his worldview was shaken—the rumors that Blue Scale Merfolk had a preference for dolphins were actually true!

“Come, let’s open the bags,” Lorens said, “You’re lucky. During my internship, there weren’t nearly as many materials. Watch closely, and learn.”

“Yes, sir!”

Lorens unzipped the first body bag: “Human, male, obese youth, non-sorcerer, Level 1 standard material. You practice with this one.”

“Orc, male, robust youth, non-sorcerer, Level 3 standard material, you practice with this one.”

“Human, female, average youth, non-sorcerer, Level 3 standard material, you practice with this one.”

“Elves, male, sturdy middle-aged, non-sorcerer, Level 7 rare material, mine.”

“The hospital, what are they doing… never mind. Dog, male, robust adult, non-sorcerer, Level 2 standard material, take it.”

After opening the last body bag, Lorens couldn’t help but shake his head: “Eight standard, two rare, and not a single sorcerer corpse, not the best of luck this time.”

“Tauton, this is already quite good,” Lanen couldn’t help but interject. “Typically, the hospital sends about twenty corpses a day to the Research Institute, and they are almost always Level 1 standard corpses that died due to severe illness or old age. Even then, these have to be shared across the entire institute. When I was studying with Oslang, sometimes we wouldn’t get new materials for a whole week.”

“It’s only in the past few days that we’ve had an abundance of materials, and even then, because of the ‘sevenday dissipation of deathly energy’ restriction, we can’t use them up fast enough, even working overtime.”

“Yeah, wow.” Lorens was actually in a good mood, his speech even carried some of the bubble sounds unique to Merfolk: “We really owe those Outer Realm sorcerers, they should come to Kaimon City every year… no, every month.”

“Professor!” Lanen exclaimed in shock: “Be careful what you say! The Sovereign will not be pleased!”

“Relax, we are of the sacred bloodline favored by the Sovereign. We won’t lose the Sovereign’s favor just for speaking out of turn.”

“But still, it’s not okay. What if someone hears and reports you—”

“Alright, alright, but do you think I’m wrong?”

“Of course it’s wrong, once a month is too damaging to the economy. Kaimon City can’t withstand such frequent devastation.” Lanen spoke seriously: “It would be more reasonable if they visited Feimeng City next door every month. A third of Kaimon City’s newly acquired materials are already sent to the Research Institute in Feimeng City.”

Lorens glanced at the new student—worthy of a former Human, certainly craftier than Merfolk.

The holographic screen suddenly popped up, signaling to Lorens that it was time for his appointment. He said to his student, “Lanen, you start the pre-processing of the materials, I need to step out for a moment.”

“Yes, Professor.”

After taking off his robe and spraying perfume to dispel the stench of corpses, Lorens left the laboratory with a spring in his step.

Passing by the water tank on the ground floor, he gazed admiringly at the graceful dolphins and their enticing eyes, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth before stepping onto the campus path bathed in the light of the Blood Moon.

Having only returned to the Research Institute a few days ago, he was quickly assigned a laboratory.

Although Lorens considered himself weak and incompetent, his source blood talent ranked within the top five in the entire institute. Therefore, even though he had offended some ‘reservists’ from the four major research institutes, the institute still spared no effort in allocating resources to him.

Lanen was a Graduate Student assigned to him by the institute. Although Lorens was reluctant, firstly, it was a strict requirement for young Researchers to mentor Graduate Students, and secondly, with the many miscellaneous tasks involved in experimental research, he indeed needed a Graduate Student to help with the work.

Lorens had also been a Graduate Student for someone else, a necessary step before undergoing a Blood Transfusion, akin to a ‘trial period’ or ‘internship’ before changing Race.

Although Preparatory Bloodline candidates have passed the Graduate Student exams and their qualifications are assured, many projects at the Research Institute conflict with universal values, and the institute needs to be sure that newcomers can integrate into their ‘smart crowd’ rather than being ‘model citizens’ shaped by propaganda.

Of course, the ‘trial period’ is nominally to allow Graduate Students early exposure to Sorcerer research and to advance their Faction Realm to Silver Rank as quickly as possible. However, if a newcomer cannot fit into the ‘big family’ of the Research Institute, their fate is generally not very good—there’s a joke within the institute that goes, ‘Today you are my student, tomorrow you are my material.’

The Research Institute doesn’t intentionally break the law, but the law also doesn’t reach inside the Research Institute.

By the way, the Red Mist Research Institute’s main research areas are ‘Blood Magic Faction’ and ‘Necromancy Faction,’ both of which require a large number of corpses as research materials. Lorens, who majors in Necromancy, has made rapid progress thanks to the abundance of materials. He has even summoned a new spirit and is on the verge of reaching the Silver Realm limit in the Necromancy Faction.

If he were still in prison struggling with source blood, he wouldn’t have caught up with such good times. Fate is truly wonderful.

Upon arriving at the Tavern, Lorens greeted the Snake Boss, who smiled and hissed, “Sss, back again? We’ve got some fine new blood in. How about a cup of ‘Elves’ Song’?”

“You have elf blood? What’s the percentage?”

“60%!” The Snake Boss glanced around and whispered, “Sss, besides Elves’ Song, I’ve also got ‘Wolf’s Kiss’ for sale.”

Lorens’s eyes widened in shock: “I didn’t hear about the Church being attacked!”

“There was a Moonshadow Priest out in the suburbs at the time, ran into the main force of the attackers, may the Sovereign have mercy on that unfortunate soul… How about it, 10% Wolf’s Kiss?”

“One Elves’ Song, one Wolf’s Kiss!”

“Sss, you sure know how to drink.”

Lorens returned to his usual spot, waiting quietly for the Blood Moon Tribunal to begin. For some reason, after watching the Blood Moon Tribunal once, he suddenly took a liking to the show, even though he never bothered to watch it while he was in prison.

Maybe it’s because he was kicked out of prison.

Maybe it’s because he knows he’ll always be underfoot of those [222], and they won’t even notice him.

Maybe it’s because he has accepted his own mediocrity.

Throughout his studies, his internship, and the ritual period in prison, Lorens always maintained high spirits. He was satisfied with just self-inspiration and didn’t need any entertainment programs to enrich his spirit.

However, now he has placed his once negligible sexual needs back in front of him, going to the Tavern for a few drinks every night, and he has even developed a fondness for watching the Blood Moon Tribunal… The reason being that he can no longer derive joy from ‘striving.’

For Lorens, learning, researching, practicing, and Exploring in Virtual Realm have all become ‘must-do’ tasks.

Because he has seen his own limits, he knows that no matter how hard he tries, it won’t make a difference.

Faced with an insurmountable high wall, he only thinks about lying flat and getting by.

Ironically, when he first arrived at the Research Institute, Lorens often looked down on those researchers who were just getting by, thinking they were no different from the Corpses in the coffins, always telling himself that he would never become one of them.

‘Maybe the night I was thrown into Shattered Lake, I was already dead.’ Lorens calmly reflected on himself: ‘Without ambition, all I have left is a heart that won’t beat.’

Suddenly, a noisy commotion erupted outside the Tavern, and someone ran in excitedly shouting, “There’s been a breakout at Shattered Lake Prison! A death row inmate has escaped!”

“Is that true? How did they escape? And what about the Prison Guards?”

“It seems the guards were locked up. The inmates seized today’s Transport Ship to the prison and took the chance to escape. It was discovered when the port noticed the Transport Ship hadn’t returned, and after escalating reports, they realized something had gone wrong with the prison!”

“Shattered Lake is going to be embarrassed nationwide this time. Isn’t this the first death row inmate escape incident?”

“Wait, aren’t there Medics in the prison? Could they also have…”

“Pfft, hahaha, that’s hilarious! Come on, let’s toast to the escapees, wishing them to bring some fun to the Blood Mad Hunters!”

“Cheers!”

Another person called out, “Let’s toast to the recently increased supply of materials! The last few days have provided more than several months’ worth!”

“Cheers!”

“To the Outer Realm Sorcerers…”

“Hey, hey, hey, we better not recklessly toast to that.”

“Here’s to the fallen!”

“Cheers! Woohoo~”

Lorens also joyfully raised his glass and downed his Elves’ Song in one gulp.

Although unrelated to him, the Medical Team [222] must still be at Shattered Lake Prison. The Medical Team couldn’t shirk responsibility for the escape from prison and might even bear more blame than the Prison Guards—after all, guards are the visible targets, whereas medics are like bats hidden in the shadows.

Lorens even felt secretly relieved to have been kicked out early—he couldn’t accept the disgrace of a sacred bloodline Sorcerer being controlled by a Death row inmate.

“So, no Blood Moon Tribunal to watch tonight, huh? How boring.”

“Snake Boss, how about starting a betting pool on the escapees? Bet on when they’ll get caught, or if they’ll get shot during their escape. I have a friend at Sin Hunter’s Hall who can send updates as they come!”

“Sssss…” mused Snake Boss: “Let me think…”

Just then, eight Holographic Screens suddenly appeared in the center of the Tavern!

Everyone was stunned and turned to look at Snake Boss, who remained calm: “I set up the screens to automatically turn on at 8 o’clock to watch the Blood Moon Tribunal, but now there’s no show—”

“If hurt enough, use both hands, joyfully sever, yesterday’s curse…”

There was even an opening theme song!?

Amid the crowd’s confusion, surprise, and anticipation, a uniformed Prison Guard appeared on the screen. He was holding the Catalog of Sinners, which covered his mouth, revealing only a pair of indifferent eyes.

“Good evening, everyone, I am Ashe Heath, the host for this Blood Moon Tribunal.”

Ashe Heath?

Ashe Heath!

No one would forget that name in just a few days, especially when many were eagerly anticipating his performance at this edition of the Blood Moon Tribunal!

“Because the tribunal could end at any moment, let’s not delay and introduce the list of the Redeemed.”

The scene shifted, and the camera focused on Shattered Lake outside the prison. There, eight slender crimson Pillars had risen from the waters of Shattered Lake, each with a Stone Seat upon which sat a Prisoner.

“This is Edmund Moken, former executive secretary of the Tax Bureau.”

“This is Bernard Laidor, former Director of the Project Office at the Government Affairs Hall.”

“This is Ernest Andrei, former councilor.”

As the camera pointed to the last contestant, people in the Tavern, Research Institute, Church, Nursery, and Sin Hunter’s Hall, everyone watching the Blood Moon Tribunal, stood up in shock.

“This is Arandor Fernand Snow,” Ashe said: “The current mayor of Kaimon City.”

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