I was an apprentice in Ferren

Chapter 1 Contracts Should Not Be Signed Randomly
DuPont's throat was so dry it felt like it was on fire, but he simply closed his eyes and endured it, continuing to sleep peacefully.

He finished singing with the client at 2 a.m. last night, so he's going to sleep in today and just need to get up before lunch.

As a civil engineer who became the deputy project manager in his third year, it's no big deal for him to slack off a little when he has a reason. He just doesn't believe that the finance girl, who is now even darker than him, will deduct his salary based on his attendance records.

But before he could fall asleep, a sound like a mournful cry flashed past his ears, and a foul smell of rust filled his nostrils.

This made DuPont's heart beat faster.

Is a female ghost here? But his group of lustful men, who can even fantasize about Aunt Lonely Smoke, are no pushovers. If they dare to come alone, they'll show you what the word "Muzan" really means.

Just as he was about to fall back asleep, DuPont suddenly sensed that something was wrong.

This smells like blood.
Thinking of this, he suddenly opened his eyes.

Could it be that those heartless guys are slacking off and not following the rules again, causing an accident?

His dormitory is several hundred meters away from the construction site. If this smell wafts over to him, he's probably going to make the news.
DuPont quickly reached for his phone next to his pillow, but it was empty; even the ceiling in front of him had turned into wood.

Construction site dormitories wouldn't be so luxurious as to use such high-quality timber, nearly half a meter wide, for ceilings; easily installed and disassembled corrugated steel panels are their standard practice.

The room was small, with four walls made of dark wood panels, the marks of time leaving cracks of varying depths in the wood grain.

The room was sparsely furnished. Several handwritten books and parchment were piled on two wooden tables, and an ink bottle and quill pen were casually placed by the window. A few drops of ink that had just dried remained on the table.

A birdcage hung in the corner of the bookshelf, but it was empty. Instead, a plump, gray bird with spots on its neck was sleeping soundly in the sun in a flowerpot.

Upon noticing his gaze, the fat bird seemed to sense something, opened its bean-sized eyes, tilted its head, and emitted three "coo coo coo" sounds, ranging from low to high.

Smelling the fresh air that was definitely not from a construction site, and looking at the poorly made linen underwear he was wearing, DuPont guessed the most likely possibility, given his overly pale skin and the disappearance of his beer belly.

Damn it, could I have time-traveled?
-
The hour and minute hands of the wall clock inside the room both pointed to 12 o'clock. The bright and warm sunlight should belong to the time when spring and summer are intertwined. DuPont wiped the blood from his nose in front of the palm-sized round mirror on the table.

The boy in the mirror had sickly pale skin, thin, sunken cheeks, slightly purple lips, and curly black hair that fell to his ears. His handsome face, which resembled a young Keanu Reeves, forced DuPont to reluctantly admit a fact.

Okay, he did time travel.

He may never see his relatives and friends again, and he will lose the cheap and readily available joys of computers and the internet. His hard-earned position will also be lost.

His browsing history hasn't been cleared yet; one can only hope that his successor will keep quiet and not shock his XP (computer bootloader), thus preserving his innocence.
After a moment of reminiscing, DuPont began to ponder his current situation.

The fact that the young man's name, which I also transmigrated into, is pronounced as DuPont is the most similar thing between the two.

Unlike the trendy name his Earth father chose, DuPont is just an ordinary surname in this world.

However, the DuPont family still had some spare money. His father seemed to be a low-ranking nobleman, and he went to great lengths, both finding people and spending money, to send him to this mage academy to become a glorious mage apprentice.

The kind that can conjure lightning bolts and fireballs with their hands.

However, before DuPont could even try to cast the spell, a transparent panel appeared in front of him.

Age: 14 years old

Race: human

Class: Level 2 Mage

Experience value: 400/2000
属性值：力量12（14-2）、敏捷12、体质12（16-4）、智力14、感知10、魅力16
Current Alignment: Neutral Good > Chaotic Good

Languages: Common (fluent), Elvish (beginner), Dragon Language (under learning)

Status: Moderate malnutrition (Strength -2, Constitution -2), Head injury (Constitution -2)

Spell strengths: Alteration spells, Necromantic spells
Specialty: Copying Scrolls (You can copy the spells you have learned onto scrolls. The success rate for spells of the current first level is 40%, and for spells of the 0th level it is 60%).

Resilient: You are born with a strong physique and gain bonus health.

Civil Mage Proficiency: You are a specialized architecture mage. You can learn architecture-related spells (including alteration and necromancy) and golem arts one ring ahead of time, but the power of ring-reducing spells and the quality of crafted items will decrease by 30%.

When you cast a spell using a spell slot that matches the spell's level, the spell automatically advances by 1 level and can be stacked with other metamagic schools.

0-level spells: Message, Hand of the Wizard, Light, Repair Building, Repair Construct
First-level spells: Mage Armor, Shield, Grease, Oil the Feet, Summon Skeleton Minions

Magical Arts: Architecture (Beginner), Golem Studies (Beginner), Engineering (Beginner), Necromancy (Beginner)
Property: 6 silver coins, 90 copper coins, 8 blank parchment scrolls, 2 scrolls of the Foot Oil spell, 2 scrolls of the Mage Armor, a steel dagger, and a dove messenger.

Note: Your potential is quite good, but why did your parents not let you become a paladin, but instead enrolled you as a mage? This is clearly a question worth pondering.

Upon seeing this, DuPont felt a sense of relief. He had a system; this was truly good news.

However, ten minutes later, DuPont was speechless.

He had no idea how to activate the system, nor did it seem to be issuing any tasks. After studying it for a while, he only discovered that the system could observe item information.

Wooden cup: An ordinary poplar wood cup that can hold 350 milliliters of liquid and is worth five copper coins.

Gone.

For now, DuPont can only try to analyze some useful information because it doesn't understand the situation.

He had a vague idea of ​​what was going on with the spells, which was very similar to the content of the Dungeons & Dragons tabletop role-playing games he had played before. However, as a player who fought the Greys, his schedule wasn't very flexible, and the games he played often ended with someone canceling, rarely forming a cohesive group.

But what on earth is this architecture-major mage? How come he transmigrated here and is studying civil engineering?

In some ways, this is a good thing, but judging by his background, he can only be considered a half-baked technician.

It's the kind of job that's not officially part of the government staff.

This inevitably reminded DuPont of his first year working on a construction site. During inspections, he was the safety officer; when pouring mortar, he was the construction supervisor; when supplementing documents, he was the data clerk; when laying out and measuring, he was the technician; when assigning tasks to workers, he was the foreman; when submitting plans and purchasing materials, he was the materials clerk; when signing off, he was the company leader; when it came to paying wages, he was always delayed; and when accidents happened, he was the first person held responsible.
If I hadn't quickly figured out what to do, and if I hadn't had those few connections in my family, I probably wouldn't have made it to the second year and would have had to quit.
However, every cloud has a silver lining. After transmigrating, he became much younger and was a promising mage/saint.
But right now, he has nothing to do with the glamorous mage; his dormitory is as simple as a construction worker's room.

Two rough wooden beds, a set of patina-covered tables and chairs, and a dusty bookshelf were all the items.

Arriving at the window, which was made of several thin wooden strips, one could see an elegant courtyard paved with marble slabs outside through the glass, where occasionally students in long robes would walk by carrying huge, heavy books.

They were in a hurry, without even a person to chat with.

Turning my gaze away, the most valuable items in the room were on the bookshelf, which was filled with handwritten classics, the titles on the spines of which were upright and powerful.

However, DuPont found the font familiar but couldn't quite understand it.

His memory is somewhat fragmented; he will probably need some time to review before he can recognize these characters.

But what's with Elvish and Dragon languages? This fourteen-year-old kid has to learn two foreign languages?

This is too curly.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but shudder and touched the empty money pouch at his waist.

With a savings of six silver coins, it seems like it won't take long to spend it all at this academy.
However, he still had several copied scrolls in his pocket, which were definitely valuable commodities that could be sold for money. How could he allow himself to become malnourished?
Just as DuPont was pondering this, he heard a knock on the door, and a clear female voice came from outside: "Is DuPont here? We should go, or we'll be late."

"immediately."

Upon opening the door, one is greeted by a somewhat youthful-looking girl with a long ponytail, dressed in a long robe and small leather shoes.

The girl wasn't particularly beautiful, but her smile was sweet. Her youthful charm, combined with her bright, crescent-shaped eyes, made her exceptionally attractive. The bronze nameplate engraved with Annie's name on her chest gleamed in the sunlight. "How was your lunch break today? Or were you copying scrolls again?"

"It's alright," DuPont replied vaguely. He glanced at the other person, vaguely grasping the key point in his mind, but his eyes couldn't help but drift downwards.

The students here are wearing stockings, and they're even white.

"I took a nap, and I haven't written on the scroll yet."

"Then you'd better hurry up. It'll be dark before 7 o'clock, and using candles is not only expensive but also ineffective." She then looked at DuPont: "I think you've only copied four scrolls this week. The day after tomorrow is Saturday. Will you be able to complete the task of copying 10 scrolls by then?"

Upon hearing this, DuPont finally understood why he couldn't use the few finished scrolls in his pocket to improve his life.

Feelings are something you can't sell; you're obligated to hand them over every week, and that's coupled with his roughly 50% success rate.
What if I can't pay the full amount?

“We’re already in our third year of apprenticeship. If we don’t do this little thing right, the first time will be a warning, the second time will be a punishment, and the third time will be expulsion.” The girl next to him looked at him strangely: “If you’re under too much pressure, why don’t you buy a few from other classmates? I remember those Nesser people sell them for a cheaper price, and the teacher never investigated where the scrolls came from.”

As she spoke, she seemed to remember something: "What, do you want to graduate early? But it's not easy for apprentices at our level to find jobs. Even if we become adventurers, I'm afraid no team will want us. According to surveys, the mortality rate for mage apprentices following adventure teams is over 50%, it's very risky."

"The mortality rate is that high?" DuPont was somewhat surprised; this was even more dangerous than going down into a well to retrieve a drill bit. "Really?"

"Every year, half of the newly formed adventure teams disappear in the same year they are formed. After all, none of us have much practical experience, and our apprentices are not good at protecting themselves when we are in danger, so the mortality rate is naturally very high."

The girl pouted and said, "I remember you don't even know how to use Burning Hand. Without area-of-effect spells, no adventure team will want you. You should just stay here and study. Once you become a formal building mage, the salary won't be low."

DuPont remained silent after hearing this. The girl looked at the silent boy and knew that he might not be in a good mood. She comforted him in a low voice, "If you really can't finish your task, I'll try to copy out an extra one for you later. If you work harder these next two days, you should be fine."

"Hmm." DuPont nodded in agreement, though he was inwardly a little anxious.

I need time to learn even the relationships between words in this world, how am I supposed to copy spell scrolls?
He didn't have many parchments on him; if they were more expensive, he probably wouldn't have enough money for practice.

However, just as DuPont was going crazy, the system, which had been silent until now, suddenly emitted a string of emotionless characters.

[Has the user activated the mainstream linguistics of the Toril world? This includes seven categories of common languages: universal languages ​​of various human regions, Elvish, Dwarven, Orcish, Celestial, Infernal, and Dragon languages. Learning these will greatly improve reading and writing fluency. Ancient Elvish and Dragon languages ​​are also included.]

Upon seeing this notification, DuPont was immediately filled with excitement.

So his system wasn't just for show.

However, just as he agreed, another obscure scroll appeared before him, one that was impossible to decipher. He didn't recognize any of the characters on it; he seemed to only remember dragon language and symbols that could be attached to it.

Knowledge is acquired upon signing the contract, but please abide by the relevant terms and conditions. You will be solely responsible for any consequences arising from breach of contract.

When the system referred to the content in front of him as a contract, DuPont immediately felt a sense of danger. He pictured the kind, smiling faces of those old bastards in the bureau when they tricked the new graduates into signing contracts to become their managers.

What are the contents of this treaty?

"Do you wish to sign? You have ten seconds to decide whether to sign. The contract will be voided if the countdown ends at the end. Countdown begins: 10, 9, 8"

DuPont felt a chill run down his spine upon hearing this.

Damn it, they're getting me to sign a contract without even offering any promises?

It's a scam company that makes someone take the blame and act as the legal representative, even giving them a kickback. They're just trying to fool you into thinking you're a recent graduate with no social experience!
"6, 5, 4"

With the countdown almost over, and considering his lackluster intelligence and empty wallet, DuPont finally hardened his heart: "I'll sign."

Reading novels is an essential part of slacking off at work, and the name of the system is naturally familiar to everyone. It would be foolish not to try this.

As DuPont replied, he felt a sudden dizziness, and it took him a while to see the girl's frightened face clearly.

'Contract complete. Please gather 1000 gold coins within one month to pay for the course "Toriel World Mainstream Linguistics". For each day of delay beyond one month, interest will increase by 1% of the principal. If you fail to gather the principal and interest within three months, your soul will no longer belong to you.'

Upon hearing this, DuPont felt a wave of dizziness, and a thought flashed through his mind.

Aren't all system capabilities supposed to be free? Why is his a little different?

　It uses the D&D 2nd edition -5R rules, which will be used for some classic D&D web novel settings, but will not be used for some overly simplified settings in the 5th edition, and there is no level cap.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)