Chapter 90: The Seaweed Dumpling |
The last time Saul had seen Lokai, the latter had openly invited him to join the Mutual Aid Society.
If it hadn’t been for Mentor Kaz suddenly showing up and calling Saul away, he would’ve had to come up with a way to politely decline.
Now, running into him face to face—would Lokai bring it up again?
“Last time I asked if you wanted to join the Mutual Aid Society. Have you given it any thought?” Lokai smiled as he took a step forward, blocking the library’s exit.
He really didn’t beat around the bush—straight to the point.
Saul tensed instinctively, but quickly reminded himself that he was no longer just a clueless newcomer.
“Sorry, Senior Lokai. My job keeps me really busy—I don’t have the time to participate in any extracurriculars. I hope you’ll understand.”
His tone was respectful, but left no room for negotiation.
Yet Lokai stepped forward again, closing the distance between them to less than a meter.
“Are you really that busy? Or are you worried about this?”
He raised his hand and bent his index fingers twice—like two little worms.
The guy had actually admitted to the existence of the parasite!
Saul frowned slightly. This wouldn’t be an easy conversation.
But to his surprise, Lokai didn’t press the issue or extend another invitation.
“Hehehe, I get it. But you don’t need to be so nervous. That little thing is just a failsafe to make sure Mutual Aid’s internal information stays confidential. Talented apprentices like you, Saul—we trust your character. We wouldn’t use something like that on you.”
“Thanks, Senior. But I really don’t have the time these days.” Seeing Lokai ease up, Saul angled his feet and tried to squeeze past him and the door.
“Alright. But even if you don’t want to join the Mutual Aid Society, you’re still welcome at our exchange meetings. You work in East Block, Second Floor, right? If you’re still unsure, you can ask Hayden. He’s always had a great working relationship with us.”
Exchange meetings? Hayden attends too?
Saul replied casually, “If I get the chance.”
“Perfect. Just find Doze anytime, he’ll bring you along.”
With that, Lokai stepped aside and made way for Saul.
Saul glanced at the two of them, nodded, and picked up his pace out of the library.
Lokai remained where he was, smiling faintly as he watched Saul disappear down the corridor.
After a while, he suddenly spoke to the man behind him.
“Ever since all your friends died, you’ve gotten a lot quieter.”
Doze flinched and gritted his teeth but said nothing.
Lokai didn’t turn around. He simply raised his hand and tapped twice—accurately—on the top of Doze’s skull.
“That’s a good thing. To grow up, one must leave some things behind.”
…
Over the next few days, Saul poured all of his spare time into two books: How a Madman Teaches You to Raise a Soul Servant and Speculations on Soul Vessels.
Both books mentioned methods of preserving spiritual forms and discussed soul resin. The latter read more like a theoretical overview, while the former had more hands-on detail.
“Soul resin” was a broad term that covered many subtypes.
Depending on the type, a soul could be preserved for anywhere from a few days to several decades. With certain enhancements, its longevity could be further extended.
In addition to basic preservation, many soul resins had special side effects. For example, the plastic bone in Saul’s left hand could increase his sensitivity to dark-elemental particles and boost his mana.
Good-quality soul resins were highly valuable materials in the wizarding world.
Unfortunately, according to the classifications described in the books, Saul’s plastic bone was among the lowest grade of soul resins.
A soul could survive inside it for only one or two days—after that, it would dissipate.
Natural soul resins were rare. Most were synthetic, meaning their formulas could be continuously refined.
If Saul could improve his plastic bone, not only could he extend the soul’s preservation time, but he could also enhance his own mana and dark element perception.
Optimizing an existing body-modification formula was a lot easier than inventing one from scratch.
That moment, Saul knew he was on the right path. His pitiful little magic pool finally had the potential to grow again.
But this line of research was like reading far beyond his grade level. Words would occasionally pop up without even a footnote to explain them. To understand those terms, Saul often had to borrow other books or consult a mentor.
This deep dive gave him a wealth of knowledge and also deepened his understanding of the Soul Vessel book given to him by the Tower Master.
“The Tower Master must be a dark-attribute specialist. All the research he wants me to do is about souls and corpses. The Tower even has two whole floors dedicated to the corpse lab—clearly it’s a priority. I wonder what the Tower Master himself is studying—probably some ultra high-level wizard project.”
Two months later, Saul finally made a small breakthrough in optimizing soul resin.
He discovered that during the process of creating the solvent that dissolved the plastic bone, one of the ingredients could be swapped out to reduce impurities that harmed the soul.
He still needed to test which material would work as a replacement.
At this point, the diary wasn’t much help.
It could warn him which materials not to use, but couldn’t tell him which ones would actually help.
He had to rely entirely on his own knowledge and intuition.
Now, he truly understood what a regular wizard’s research process was like—
Step by step, forming hypotheses and testing them.
If a hypothesis failed or couldn’t be tested, it had to be shelved.
That day, he went to the registration office and swapped out a batch of materials for his next round of testing.
“This one’s static cloud… Why the hell did I request this? Was I brain-dead?” Saul slapped his forehead.
“I know the plastic bone is vulnerable to electricity—why would I add an electrical component?”
Grumbling to himself, a new idea suddenly sparked in Saul’s mind.
“Since the plastic bone is afraid of electricity, maybe I should prepare a countermeasure for that weakness in advance. If I end up fighting someone, it could be my fatal flaw! Note this down, note this down!”
Saul quickly jotted the idea into a different notebook.
He often came up with odd ideas during research, but since he didn’t have the time to explore them all in depth, he’d just log them for later.
After scribbling down the inspiration, Saul straightened up and looked over the remaining materials.
“Alright, which one should I try next…” he muttered, stroking his chin, deep in thought.
At that moment, a black tendril about as thick as a thumb coiled around a test tube and lifted it in front of Saul’s face.
“This one? It’s on the alkaline side—might it mess with the solvent’s corrosion properties…”
“Whoa!”
Saul suddenly realized something was very wrong and leapt out of his chair.
But instead of backing off, the black tendril was pulled even closer to his face—as if something was dragging it.
Slick black surface, sinuous motion, that familiar way it curled around objects…
“You—you’re a Soul Devouring Mire?!”
Saul looked behind him, trying to see the tendril’s origin—but it spun with him, always staying out of view.
He moved again, and the tendril mirrored his every motion.
His face froze. Slowly, he raised a hand and followed the tendril backward.
And at the back of his neck… he felt the base of the tendril.
The thing was growing out of his neck!
Saul immediately bolted toward the corpse lab’s main door, torn between whether to run straight to Mentor Kaz or just dash next door to the senior apprentice’s room.
Meanwhile, the tendril still held onto the test tube, calmly following alongside him.
Just as Saul’s fingers were about to touch the lab’s scarlet doors, he suddenly stopped.
He glanced at his left shoulder.
“Hey, Diary bro… you’re just gonna sit there?”
The Diary remained quiet, clearly enjoying the show.
Saul narrowed his eyes and grabbed the junction between the tendril and his neck.
The Diary didn’t respond.
Saul started pulling—
Pop!
The black tendril came right off!
He touched the back of his neck with his other hand—no wounds, no second tendril growing.
“So… maybe it wasn’t parasitic. I must’ve just dragged a piece of it out somehow. But then how is it still active, even detached from the body?”
The black tendril didn’t speak. Even after being plucked off, it still held the test tube and presented it to Saul.
Now a bit calmer, Saul snatched the test tube from its grasp.
“Fine. Before I figure out what the hell you even are, let’s see what this Seaweed Dumpling’s recommended potion is good for!”
(End of Chapter)
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