Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 138 Uncle and Nephew

As he walked down the street and saw the bustling crowds, Ruger felt a little more at ease.

Recalling what the three men had said on the way, it seemed that living on that mountain peak would require paying an even higher price in blood, while those dilapidated caves were unattended, and anyone could come and go as they pleased. Although they didn't say it, Ruger figured that a place where one had to pay a higher price to stay must have some benefits; otherwise, no fool would stay there.

Speaking of benefits, Ruger naturally recalled the comfortable feeling of the blood-red light shining on his body.

There were groups of people around, including some wizard apprentices, and quite a few of them with peculiar appearances. Ruger was even dazzled by the sight. Although these strange-looking people were not as exaggerated as him, and looked exactly like dog-headed people, he felt that his appearance was not a big deal here, at least it wouldn't attract any attention.

Are all these people bloodline wizards? Or are they all bloodline modifiers?
But isn't the proportion of bloodline modifiers here a bit too high? He thought to himself.

His previous experiences, along with Karyu's advice, actually gave him an urge to join a large organization. When he stepped onto the teleportation array, he chose the Snail Disc Academy because of this idea, thinking he would try his luck. Unfortunately, plans don't always go as expected.

He paused, and in the winding alley, a shop selling medicine caught his attention.

Having just arrived in the Upper Realm, he thought he should perhaps settle down first, observe the situation, and then make further plans.

As Ruger turned into the alley, the noise on the street immediately decreased by half.

He touched the rough, old wooden door and pushed it gently, causing the door to ring out with a pleasant bell sound.

The narrow shop was a bit cluttered, filled with all sorts of tall shelves and bottles and jars. The door closed behind us, and the shop became extremely quiet.

The owner behind the old counter raised a large, fat dog's head and stared blankly at Luger.

Ruger had already removed his face covering while standing on the street.

He came here because there was a sign in front of the shop advertising for apprenticeships in medicine.

"Kobolds?" the boss said.

Luger nodded.

Ruger then realized that the boss was probably not a dog-headed man, but simply someone with a dog's head.

The shopkeeper saw that Luger was standing there blankly, not showing any intention of choosing any medicines, and he understood why Luger had come.

The shopkeeper frowned, his large, fat head creased with wrinkles from the loose skin. "Who sent you to play me, kid? Did they give you Sun Coins or Magic Stones? I have a potion here that will make someone tell the truth for three days straight. As long as you're still a wizard apprentice, one bottle will do the trick..."

“I want to work here and become your pharmacy apprentice,” Ruger said, carefully choosing his words.

The old dog squinted at him, and Luger met his gaze with equal sincerity.

"Go over there on that shelf and get a bottle of truth serum," Old Doghead said.

Following his gaze, Luger arrived at a crooked shelf that looked like it was made of old tree roots. He worked his way down to the very corner before finally finding the Truth Potion that the dog-headed boss had mentioned.

"Drink it." Old Dog's voice came from behind.

Ruger thought for a moment, then looked at the label again, tilted his head back, and drank the potion.

He had just returned to the counter with the empty bottle in his hand.

"Thank you for your patronage. Twenty-five standard magic stones." The shopkeeper held out his hand.

Ruger took out twenty-five magic stones and placed them on the table.

The boss casually swiped his arm under the counter: "A few annoying guys have spread rumors that I only hire people with dog heads, so I've been the subject of a lot of jokes lately."

He pursed his big dog mouth, seemingly very helpless.

“That feeling must be awful,” Ruger chimed in.

"You just arrived here?" Old Doghead said.

"Yes."

Ruger didn't know what changes would occur after drinking the potion, so he decided to keep all his replies as brief as possible.

"Do you really want to become my potion apprentice?" Old Doghead asked.

“Yes, sir,” Ruger said.

"How good are you at pharmacology?" Old Doghead asked after a moment's thought, looking him up and down. "I can drink potions," Ruger said instinctively, then quickly added, "I've only ever drunk potions; I've never made one myself."

Old Dog's forehead had even more wrinkles.

Ruger even saw sparks coming out of the tips of his teeth.

It seems my twenty-five magic stones will be wasted; they only moistened my throat and were still a bit bitter, Luger thought to himself.

Suddenly, a simple contract was slapped in front of Luger, and the old counter creaked.

"It's the lowest level contract, but it's still a contract certified by the Wizarding Council. Leave your arcane mark, and you'll be a potion apprentice here. The contract is also worth ten magic stones," the old dog said.

Luger was instantly filled with surprise and quickly tossed over ten magic stones.

Old Doghead swept his elbow across the counter, knocking the magic stone off. He stared at Ruger, waiting for him to leave his arcane mark.

Ruger stared intently at the few simple clauses on the palm-sized contract.

Different desires lead to different requirements. In Luger's current situation, he doesn't care about many things, or rather, he can't care about them.

As he looked at it, he also checked the contract for any suspicious patterns or anything like that. These were some basic tips mentioned in the early part of Karyu's diary. But his repeated actions only earned him a harmless sneer from the old dog behind the counter.

The first clause of the contract is that there is no salary.

Next came the potion recipes, which required him to pay with magic stones and were forbidden from being shared.

The potion that is successfully made belongs to the shop, but the shop still has to pay a certain amount of magic stones for the materials wasted in the failure.

Only after mastering three low-level potions and achieving excellent success rate and quality in both refining can one receive a share of the potion profits.

The rest of the story mostly involves magic stones, but it doesn't involve the personal restrictions that Luger fears most.

When Luger saw the last line, he also learned the name of this place: the City of Burning Blood.

The contract also required a deposit of one hundred magic stones.

As Ruger looked at the name of the city and pondered, he was about to take out another magic stone when he was suddenly stopped by the shopkeeper.

“This one, and this one, and the last hundred magic stones, can all be removed, as long as you agree to add one more,” the old dog-headed man said, bringing his big face close to his mouth. “During your time in the shop, if anyone asks you, you must tell them that you are my nephew.”

Luger laughed and continued to pull out magic stones.

The unusual and exceptional recruitment was probably due to this last added condition.

“I’ll increase your practice opportunities every day, plus one of my unique low-level potion recipes,” the old dog-headed man said, staring at him.

“Then I’ll add one more: you must not intentionally cause trouble for the other party,” Ruger said with a smile.

"make a deal!"

The dog-headed boss curled his lip, flicked his finger, and wrote down the newly negotiated terms on the contract.

At the same time, Luger was also sensing the contract through his mental power. This was the first time he had seen a contract modified. He could only say that it was indeed the lowest level. Under the perception of mental power, if a few more clauses were modified, the contract would shatter before it was established.

After confirming that everything was correct, the two left their own secret mark. The contract floated up in front of them, slowly burning and leaving only the characters of the terms in mid-air before gradually disappearing.

This is considered the agreement reached.

“My uncle, I don’t even know your name!” Ruger said, watching the contract gradually disappear.

“You can call me Lenser, Eggshell Boy,” said the dog-headed boss.

"Eggshell?" Luger asked in surprise.

"Your arcane mark, isn't that an eggshell with a cracked top? It looks like a dragon egg..." Old Doghead Lunser said with a sneer. His arcane mark was a piece of broken bone, which had embarrassed him in his early years.

“I always thought it was a flower bud,” Luger said thoughtfully.

(End of this chapter)