Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

"Good heavens," Lyle thought, looking at the three talented individuals before him. "You guys are going to build a Gundam, a Death Gundam?"

Have you thought of a name for the club yet?

"No, we plan to consider it further after we bring you on board."

"How about the Necromancer Figure Company?"

Chapter 154 The New Arnoin

"Necromancer Figure Company?"

Mr. Flexibility tilted his head slightly, as if he was pondering the possible meaning hidden in the name.

He ultimately chose to give up.

"No objections. You're the president, so you can choose the name of the club."

"??? How did I become the president?" Lyle felt absurd, like the strawberry jam spread on toast in the morning that tastes like toothpaste.

Unexpectedly, it was Mr. Manipulation who answered, still gripping the magic wand tightly.

"Because you are number one, your reputation and ability can support this position and attract more people who are interested in our future. Your inspiring speech at the graduation ceremony has motivated many freshmen who are still hesitating, like the dawn after darkness. We need your spirit and ideas as urgently as we need your brilliant ideas."

"Become the president of the Necromancer Figure Company, Mr. Plague Doctor."

Some things you can only truly feel when you're experiencing them firsthand. Like now, Lyle felt the encouragement and expectation emanating from them. This feeling, so easily acting on the body and controlling adrenaline secretion, turned Lyle's brain into a single, linear reflex. (There was only one choice.)

"I will do my best to make our club thrive."

"We have confidence in you, President."

……

Lyle wrote the name of the Death Figurine Company on the parchment. He looked at the three people around him.

Is that all?

Mr. Shining tapped the scales on his mask. "Next, all we need to do is wage a war against one of the clubs, force them to disband, and take their place, right?"

"Is a club rivalry still necessary?" Lyle recalled what the dean had said during the freshman orientation: Andrei no longer had space available for new clubs. It seemed a club rivalry was inevitable.

Is there a way to avoid fighting?

"How about we wait until Mr. Raymond has completely destroyed the Destiny Evangelist before we try to take that spot?"

Manipulate the first one to disagree.

"What we gain through opportunism is lost even faster. Even if we occupy a territory, if we don't establish our authority, there will be a constant stream of provocations waiting for us. It's better to find someone of similar skill level to practice against and see if our ideology is even necessary."

"Are you giving up on yourself?" Mr. Shiny teased, manipulating the gloomy face.

“I’m confident. You idiot, since the Plague Doctor can defeat me, as a member of his organization, I must also be invincible among my peers.”

Lyle raised his concerns, "Have you considered the issue of aid? Those existing organizations may have even higher-level predecessors. Even if we defeat those at the same level, what about those at a higher level?"

Mr. Flexibility laughed.

“Your concerns are unnecessary, Mr. Plague Doctor. Although our Death Figurine Club is just a new organization, the forces behind us are not young at all.”

"what do you mean……"

"The entire faculty and staff of Andrei Séance Studies are our support. They may not be interested in forming and managing a séance society, but they would certainly be happy to assist us. As for those seniors who want to suppress us by force, well, if they want to take on ten of us at once, they'll probably come after us instead."

"I see. Then the establishment of the club is settled. Next is the division of labor for our future. If we really want to create such a large-scale necromancy creation, our knowledge of necromancy must cover all areas. The specialization of necromancy has been divided into three schools. Are you all studying all three?"

Mr. Shining nodded. "Although it's a full course, I will focus on the skeleton system when there are conflicting parts in the curriculum. I want to be responsible for the exoskeleton part, and I may specialize in this part in the future."

Mr. Manipulation also made his own choice, "Full cultivation, mainly based on Mr. Scarlet's flesh and blood system, to study the control of muscle tissue over the body of creation. I don't want the Lord of Death I create to be just a big, dumb idiot."

"By the way, Plague Doctor, I want to become the first manipulator of the Lord of Death. I have the talent and can do my best."

"Okay, of course." The pilot of Unit-01, the operator, is now online.

"But then again, where is the cockpit of this creation?"

Who would have thought that Lyle's simple question would trigger such astonishment from the manipulation?

"Why didn't we think of this? We no longer need to worry about the accuracy of magic transmission. As long as we create a cockpit inside the creation and allow consciousness to connect directly to the creation, this is definitely the best way to connect! Mr. Plague Doctor, you are truly farsighted."

Lyle awkwardly accepted the pilot's praise, thinking to himself, "What can I do?" Seeing a Gundam, the first thing he did was look for the cockpit and figure out how to get in—that's a man's romantic side.

"Most methods of controlling the undead involve remote control using magic. We've fallen into a traditional mindset trap. The Plague Doctor's Spinal Wheel has already shown us that integrating necromancers into creations might be a new direction for development."

"But this means we also have to consider the location of the cockpit, the safety of the creation itself after its collapse, and how to activate the corpse explosion spell is also a problem."

"Was this supposed to explode in the pre-programmed settings?"

"Basically, all man-made creations are equipped with self-destruct mechanisms, both to harm enemies and to prevent their technology from being reused by others. But don't worry, Mr. Plague Doctor, my research focuses on the shapeshifting abilities of creations, and I will definitely find a solution to these things in the future..."

"I really look forward to Mr. Arnoin's course on flesh and blood, the pure transformation and fusion of flesh and blood."

Lyle heard a familiar name, which reminded him of the lingering image in his mind, the eerie and grotesque mocking smile that he had been dreaming about frequently lately.

"Arno has become a full professor? Wasn't he just a teaching assistant before?"

"That matter, Mr. Arnoin seems to have gone through something recently. He has regained control of the forbidden modification ability. His creations have been approved by the Flesh and Blood professor and are now capable of being taught publicly. The current content is exactly the opposite of Mr. Scarlet's, the unique shapeshifting ability of invertebrate flesh and blood."

"Don't be surprised, Mr. Plague Doctor. Mr. Arnoin's reputation seems to have improved a lot recently. Many teachers and students who have come into contact with him have a very high opinion of the new Mr. Arnoin. He will also be one of our instructors."

"His teaching quality is quite good."

"It's like... a completely different person."

Chapter 155 Kevin's Hamlet Journey

Cassandra's mornings were much cleaner than she remembered, from the still-thin clouds in the distance to the smooth, rain-washed stone walls passing by.

Well, maybe it's Lyle's imagination, but nothing about Cassandra has changed.

At best, it only appeared much brighter in comparison to Mr. Ralph.

Before dawn, less than twenty minutes after Lyle returned from Andrei and lay in bed, his uncle Ralf knocked on his door. The shadow beneath his top hat was like a bottomless abyss, and his originally lake-blue eyes had taken on a bright yellow hue, as if something was hidden beneath the clear surface of the water.

Ralph's power had increased again, and Lyle wasn't sure if it was because of his guilty conscience about sneaking out in the middle of the night.

"You've got a new job, your vacation is over."

"Okay, Uncle, where are we going this time?"

"It's not 'us,' it's 'where are you going.'"

Independent mission? It wasn't that Lyle had become dependent on Ralf, but Ralf didn't seem like the type to let Lyle go it alone.

“A private commission disguised as a business,” Ralph clicked his tongue, his eyes filled with displeasure as he looked at Lyle. “You should be more careful about who you befriend in the future.”

For no apparent reason, Lyle followed Ralph to the police station.

"Hamletshire, that's the Duke of Hamlet's private territory, in another country. Logically, it shouldn't have any connection with us. However, one of our noble families recently received a letter informing them of the Duke of Hamlet's impending death. The letter explained that the Duke is troubled by his successor, and his research into the genealogy has revealed that a branch of the family has migrated to this side. The wealth and power of the ancient Hamlet family are enough to tempt even the Stone Heart, and that fortunate noble family is discussing how to secure the position of heir. They need a capable guide to protect their successor."

"Am I the outstanding person who was chosen?"

Lyle returned to calm under Ralph's disdainful gaze.

Ralph looked up at the sky, his gaze fixed on the tower's spires. "Hopefully that brat will do something worthwhile this time. I really want to strangle you both. There's a limit to joking around."

Lyle, who was unjustly accused, did not refute his uncle until he entered the police station, where his doubts were finally answered.

The handsome young man sat reservedly in the police station's reception room. His golden hair, like shimmering gold, reflected the light, and he wore a charming smile that could captivate any young girl. His impeccable suit accentuated his tall, youthful physique. He possessed an aura that brought joy to everyone around him; even Mr. Garrett, who was usually unfriendly, stopped working, sat opposite the young man, and chatted pleasantly with him over a cup of fragrant tea.

This hypocrite.

"You've come at the perfect time, Mr. Buller. This is your client, Mr. Kevin Borey, the son of Baron Borey."

Kevin stood up, displaying an air of aristocratic nobility towards his companion, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sheriff Lyle Bouler." Then his gaze swept over the gloomy-faced Ralf, and his lips twitched, "And...and Mr. Ralf Bouler..."

"Alright, you can discuss the specific details of the commission privately. Ralph, don't interfere with them."

Kevin appeared nonchalant, but his expression was tense as he brushed past Ralph.

“Mr. Kevin…” Ralph turned to look at his nephew’s former classmate.

"Yes!" Kevin stopped where he was, turned around, and sweat slid down his shiny cheeks.

"Is there any danger in your commission this time?"

Kevin took out a handkerchief and wiped his cheek. "It's probably impossible to be without danger. Everything in Hamletshire is unknown. I just have a gut feeling that we won't have any problems. My gut tells me that we'll be fine, Uncle Ralph."

Ralph seemed to have let him off the hook for the time being.

As Kevin breathed a sigh of relief and continued forward, Ralf's gloomy voice came from behind him again, like a cold wind sneaking into his sleeves in winter.

"Kevin, I hate being lied to. You're a good kid, aren't you?"

"Yes!" Kevin gestured to Lyle, took the cane and hat from the coat rack, and ran out in a flash.

……

Lyle looked at the spot where Kevin was resting and catching his breath.

Our aristocratic friend seems to have a unique fondness for playing in the mud. He often chooses locations that are untouched and unkempt, in dark corners.

He took two deep breaths, brushed the hair that was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and gave Lyle a lingering smile. "Mr. Ralph is still the same as always... well... always appears at just the right time."

Lyle perfectly tore off Mr. Kevin's disguise. "If you want to say he's a persistent ghost, just say so. Using a positive term to describe Ralph is like... well... putting a pig's head on someone's neck."

"Is Mr. Ralph a pig's head?"

"...I will give him your honest feedback."

"Hey! My brother, we don't need to fight to the death!"

"Let's get down to business, Kevin. I didn't know you had relatives in another country."

Kevin loosened his collar slightly and leaned against the stone wall without any decorum.

"What a coincidence, I don't know either. When I asked my father with some doubt, he just looked at me with a half-smile and then arranged for me to begin my journey to Hamletshire."

“I suspect that our family has absolutely no connection to Hamlet. My father just wanted this windfall. A fabricated identity as an heir, an inherited ducal title. Like those wealthy merchants who desperately want to become nobles, my father was also a man driven by profit.”

“I remember that Baron Borre’s affection for you went beyond mere indulgence; otherwise, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to become such an anomaly among the nobility. Why would Baron Borre let his only son take such a risk? Even with a well-equipped private army, your safety couldn’t be guaranteed.”