I became a god through archaeology in the Wizarding World.

The Necromancer's Tower is located at the northernmost end of the academy and is shrouded in a layer of gray mist year-round.

The air here is a few degrees colder than elsewhere, carrying a lingering, strange stench of formaldehyde mixed with rotting flesh and blood.

Even at midday when the sun is at its strongest, there are more crows than sparrows here.

Rod pushed a heavy, black-cloth-covered wheelbarrow to a stop in front of the rusty, thick iron door of the laboratory building.

This is the new job he's taken on.

It was only after he learned how expensive things were on the black market that he decided he needed to work even harder to earn money.

Although he has the opportunity to become a beginner apprentice, he still needs more magic stones to buy spellcasting materials and auxiliary potions.

In the academy, besides serving as experimental consumables for the instructors, the highest-paying and most accessible job is dealing with the failed experiments of the necromancy department.

"Knock knock knock".

Rod knocked on the iron gate.

After a while, the observation window on the door was opened, revealing a pair of bloodshot, somewhat neurotic eyes.

"Who is it? Don't you know it's break time?" The voice inside was shrill and impatient.

"I'm Rhodes from the History Department, here to pick up this batch of... scrap," Rhodes said in a low voice, trying to appear humble and submissive.

The iron gate opened slowly with a screeching sound.

An apprentice emerged, wearing a stained gray robe and with hair as greasy as seaweed.

He held a half-eaten sandwich in one hand and a notebook in the other.

This is Tom, a mid-level apprentice in the Necromancer class.

It is said that he has been stuck in this position for five years because of his limited talent and timidity, and can only be responsible for such logistical tasks.

"Oh, it's you, the teaching assistant who picks up trash."

Tom glanced at Rhodes, a sneer playing on his lips, and mumbled between chews of his sandwich, "I thought Kane kicked you out. What, your history department salary isn't enough to buy you bread?"

"Life forces me to do this, Mr. Tom," Rhodes said, bowing his head without rebuttal.

"Hmph, you're lucky. You have a large batch of fresh goods today."

Tom turned to the side and pointed to the dark, damp corridor behind him: "They're all in morgue storage room number three. My mentor's been researching a new type of Frankenstein's monster lately, and the failure rate's a bit high... Go in and move them yourself, and be quick, don't get the floor dirty."

After saying that, Tom leaned against the door frame, showing no intention of helping at all.

In his view, it was an insult to have a noble wizard apprentice carry those disgusting pieces of corpse.

This kind of dirty work should be done by these lowly mortals.

Rod nodded and pushed the cart into the corridor.

Upon entering the laboratory building, the chilly feeling intensified instantly.

Green phosphorescent lamps hung on the walls, turning everything a ghastly green.

Rhodes' senses are now much sharper than before.

He could smell a faint, burnt sulfur-like odor in the air, in addition to the preservatives—the lingering scent of a dark magic ritual.

"It seems the Necromancers have been making a lot of moves lately..." Rhodes thought to himself.

He went to warehouse number three and pushed open the door.

A strong, fishy stench wafted over.

The room was filled with severed limbs, some sewn together, others looking as if they had been torn apart by wild animals.

These are the products of failed experiments, now devoid of magical sustaining them, and are rapidly decaying.

Rod put on thick leather gloves and began to work.

He didn't show any disgust; instead, his eyes held a hint of scrutiny.

As a surgeon in his previous life, he had an excellent understanding of human anatomy.

The process of moving things is not just about doing manual labor, but also about panning for gold.

The Species Atlas is currently in standby mode.

Although most of the corpses were ordinary humans or common wild animals and did not elicit a response from the Pokédex, Rhodes was not discouraged.

As long as the base number is large enough, you'll always find good things.

"This body... has abnormal bone density; it must be a barbarian who took a berserk potion."

"This body... has burn marks on its skin, caused by lightning magic?"

As Rod carried the load, he mentally performed an autopsy.

Just as he picked up a corpse wrapped in a white sheet, the encyclopedia in his mind suddenly flickered very faintly.

It wasn't the shock of discovering a new species, but rather the sense of danger bestowed upon him by the Iron-Beaked Raven!

Rhodes' movements froze instantly.

This corpse...something's not right.

Although it looked completely dead, its body stiff and its skin bluish, Rhodes sensed an extremely subtle energy accumulating in the corpse's spine.

"Hey! What are you dawdling about?"

Tom's impatient voice came from the doorway.

He seemed to have finished his sandwich, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief as he walked in with a look of disgust: "It takes this long to move a corpse? If you delay the next batch of experimental materials from being stored, the supervisor will skin you alive!"

Tom strode over, seemingly wanting to kick Rod to demonstrate his authority.

Just as Tom walked to within a meter of the body...

The stinging sensation on the back of Rod's head instantly intensified.

"Don't come any closer!" Rod shouted suddenly.

"What?"

Tom was taken aback, then flew into a rage: "You dare order me around? You lowly..."

Before he could finish speaking...

The corpse, which should have been dead, suddenly opened its eyes.

Those were terrifying eyes, with only the whites showing and bloodshot veins.

"Roar~~!!"

The corpse let out a roar that was not human. Its previously stiff arm sprang up at an angle that defied the structure of the joints. Its claws, covered with black nails, whistled through the air as they reached straight for Tom's throat!

This is a failed living corpse. Although its soul has dissipated, its killing instinct remains!

They're too close!

Tom was completely terrified. As a hothouse flower who only knew a few basic spells and had spent most of his life in the laboratory, his mind went blank in the face of this sudden threat of death. He even forgot to cast the most basic mage armor.

The sharp claws were about to pierce Tom's neck.

A hand wearing rough linen sleeves suddenly emerged from the side.

That hand wasn't large, but it was as steady as a rock.

"Bang!"

Rhodes's hand precisely gripped the zombie's wrist.

The instant they made contact, Rhodes's mind stirred, and a layer of grayish-white rock-like texture instantly appeared on the skin of his palm.

【Stone Skin】Activated!

The undead's strength was enough to tear tigers and leopards apart, but under the grip of Rhode's rocky hand, it remained completely still.

"Click."

Rod, expressionless, twisted the metal with force.

A crisp cracking sound rang out as the zombie's wrist was snapped, hanging limply at its sides.

Immediately afterwards, Rod raised his foot and kicked the zombie hard in the chest.

This kick was devoid of any fancy moves; it was purely an outpouring of power.

The zombie was kicked away like a tattered sack, crashing heavily against the wall. It twitched a few times and then went completely still.

The whole process happened in the blink of an eye.

Tom didn't realize what had happened until the zombie hit the ground.

"Ahhh!!"

Tom let out a belated scream, his legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground.

A warm liquid flowed down his trouser leg, spreading into a puddle on the floor.

Rhodes withdrew his hand, and the petrified patterns on his palm quickly faded away.

He turned around and looked at Tom, who was sprawled on the ground.

"Mr. Tom."

Rhodes' voice remained humble, as if he weren't the one who had just snapped the zombie's wrist with his bare hands: "This corpse seems to still have some... residual reactions. Are you alright?"

Tom's face was as pale as paper, his lips trembled, and his eyes were filled with terror and... a hint of confusion as he looked at Rod.

What just happened?

This mortal teaching assistant... blocked the zombies?

No, I must be seeing things. This living corpse must have been weak to begin with.

But the sound of bones cracking just now was real.

"You...you..." Tom stammered, pointing at Rhodes, trying to put on the airs of a wizard, but he couldn't stand up no matter what he did.

"It seems that experiments in the necromancy field are indeed fraught with risks."

Rod walked over, seemingly wanting to help Tom up, but in reality, he subtly observed his surroundings to make sure no one else had witnessed what had just happened.

"For the sake of your reputation, I think it's best if we all forget about this. After all, it wouldn't sound good if the professor knew you were intimidated by a piece of trash."

This statement struck a nerve with Tom.

If this gets out, he'll be completely finished in the Necromancer Department.

Tom swallowed hard and, with Rod's help, managed to stand up.

He looked at Rhodes with a complex expression, a mixture of gratitude for being saved, shame and anger at being seen in such a state by mortals, and a hint of fear of Rhodes' power.

"Cough... Of course."

Tom straightened his wet robes, trying to appear calm: "That was just an accident. I was about to cast a spell when...you reacted quite quickly. Looks like you've developed some strength from moving stones in the history department."

He quickly found a way to save face, attributing Rhodes' performance to brute force.

"Yes, it's just a lot of strength." Rod nodded obediently.

Tom pulled a money pouch from his pocket, his hands still trembling slightly.

He took out a magic stone, which was much more than the agreed reward, and threw it to Rhodes.

"Take this! Clean this place up! Especially that... damn thing, throw it into the deepest part of the mass grave!"

Tom roared, sounding fierce but actually weak, and then fled the room as if his head was about to turn back.

Rhodes caught the magic stone and weighed it in his hand.

A magic stone.

Add to that the psychological advantage gained from saving this fool's life, and this deal is a win-win.

He turned around, looked at the living corpse whose sternum he had kicked and broken, and a smile appeared on his lips.

"Danger perception...it's really useful."

In that split second, if it weren't for the warning from the encyclopedia, he might have reacted, but he could never have saved Tom so calmly.

Rhodes threw the zombie onto the cart and covered it with a black cloth.

As I pushed the cart out of the laboratory building, the fog outside seemed even thicker.