Chapter 4: The Power of the White Bones

Chapter 4: The Might of the White Bone

All the boys in the room stared at Saul in shock.

The entire room fell silent for a moment.

But soon, three boys exchanged glances and stepped forward.

“You’ve got some guts, huh!” The first one picked up a stool from the ground and swung it hard at Saul. “Let’s see if your hand is tougher than wood!”

Saul raised his white-bone left hand and punched the stool.

With a crash, the stool shattered, splinters flying into the other boy’s face.

But the boys didn’t attack again.

Everyone fell completely silent.

The shock on their faces turned into fear.

Even Brown, who was groaning on the ground, stared at Saul’s left hand in disbelief, instinctively scooting backward.

There was no way to hide the left hand.

Servants didn’t have gloves, and they did a lot of manual labor—it was impossible to keep the left hand hidden all the time.

So Saul simply revealed it to shock everyone—and to divert attention away from his right hand.

“You… you’re cursed?”

That was the first thought they had—a curse.

“Could it be contagious?”

“Quick, tell the steward!”

Saul didn’t explain. He turned to Brown, and his left hand suddenly lunged forward to grab him.

“Wahhhh!!”

Brown was so terrified he forgot his injured hand. He scrambled backward, rolling and crawling.

Saul waved his left hand around again in front of everyone.

The group of boys screamed and yelped, backing away in panic.

Saul suddenly felt like he was being childish—but it did help him vent a little.

“Starting tomorrow, I will no longer clean the hallway.”

No one in the room dared to refute Saul

“You’ll rotate—among yourselves!”

He pointed his white-bone index finger at Brown.

“You’re first.”

Brown’s face turned pale in an instant.

“Steward! It’s him—he’s cursed and hasn’t reported it yet!”

A boy’s voice came from behind.

Saul turned around to see another boy who often mocked him, entering the room with a middle-aged man in a black uniform.

The steward saw Saul’s hand but didn’t show any fear.

He just furrowed his brow slightly.

“Come with me.”

Saul gave the snitch a glance, then silently followed the steward out.

They went to the storage room.

“Speak.”

“I helped Second-level Wizard Apprentice Lady Kongsha with a live experiment.”

The steward was startled

“You volunteered?”

Saul was confused—what, if he hadn’t volunteered, would the steward go file a lawsuit for him?

“Ahem…” The steward cleared his throat. “I mean, did Lady Kongsha compensate you? If not, you can apply to the chief steward for reimbursement. After all, servants are property of the Tower Lord—even apprentices can’t consume them without reason.”

Saul didn’t believe that for a second.

Before he transmigrated, the previous Saul was killed by an apprentice with a book to the head. And now that he was dead and replaced by Saul, no one ever demanded justice for it.

Clearly, the steward was just testing whether Saul and Kongsha had any personal connection.

So Saul replied calmly, “No.”

When he saw the steward’s expression shift, he added:

“Lady Kongsha and I… don’t need something like payment between us.”

The steward’s face changed again.

He had been half a second from getting angry, but now had to force a smile.

“Ah, haha, alright then. If that’s the case, I won’t interfere. Go back and rest. No work for the next two days—take time to recover.”

He glanced at Saul’s left hand with unease.

Saul gave a slight bow. “Thank you, Steward.”

As he opened the door to leave, he saw a group of boys crowding the dorm door, peeking out at him.

When Saul walked over, they scattered back into the room.

“You.” Saul pointed at the snitch. “You’re on duty the day after tomorrow.”

The boy’s face instantly turned as pale as Brown’s!

For the next two days, Saul lived quite comfortably.

No one gave him any tasks. He could wander freely through most areas of the fourth floor. No one dared fight him for food—he could finally eat hot meals, and sometimes even see meat.

Even the steward personally sent him a potion the next day, saying it was to heal his head wound.

How ridiculous.

His forehead didn’t even have a scar anymore.

Still, Saul gratefully accepted the potion and thanked the steward repeatedly.

Because everything he was enjoying now came from people’s speculation about his relationship with Kongsha.

But if Saul failed to become a wizard apprentice, all of this would disappear like a bubble—and he’d be back to square one.

Didn’t Kongsha not even care to know his name?

Without the status of a wizard apprentice, Saul had no right to act arrogant. He could only scare off those cowardly boys for now.

On the third day, something happened.

That morning, the boy who went to clean the hallway didn’t return.

Eventually, the steward came out and brought the body back.

One of the boys excitedly described the gruesome scene to Saul:

The dead servant’s entire head had turned into a flower.

The skull was the stamen, and the flesh on the face bloomed layer by layer—as vivid as fire.

After the steward brought the corpse back, he handed it off to the garbage house. The trail of blood was so long that even the resting Saul was called to help mop it up.

Saul squatted on the ground with the other boys, scrubbing the blood-stained floor.

No wizard apprentice passing by paid them any attention.

They were always in a hurry, never caring which servant died today.

Saul even saw Kongsha’s chin.

But her head was hidden inside her dome, so it wasn’t as scary as at night.

After returning, the steward came by again.

“Looks like you’ve rested enough. Back to work starting tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Saul agreed without hesitation.

There were whispers behind him.

Clearly, someone had noticed Saul’s brief encounter with Kongsha.

Since she didn’t even spare him a glance, some had started to suspect Saul was bluffing all along.

The steward frowned even more when Saul agreed so quickly.

Just as he was about to speak again, the door suddenly opened.

The chief steward walked in.

“Chief Steward!” The steward bent down in a deep bow. “What brings you here?”

The chief ignored him completely and turned to Saul with a cold expression.

“You’re Saul?”

Saul knew—this was the opportunity Kongsha promised him.

The hand hidden in his sleeve quietly clenched.
“Yes, Chief Steward.”

“Come with me.”

The chief steward turned and left—never speaking another word to the steward.

Saul stepped aside and walked past the steward, nodding and smiling politely.

Sweat beaded instantly on the steward’s forehead.

…

Saul followed the chief steward all the way to the sixth floor.

Floors six to nine housed most junior wizard apprentices, as well as some higher-ranked ones who hadn’t moved out yet.

Normally, the wizard tower was quite empty. But today—the corridor was packed.

All were children around ten years old, neatly dressed. But none of them looked innocent. Their faces were pale, their expressions filled with fear.

“Go stand at the back.” The chief steward brought Saul to the end of the line, pointed with his chin, and spoke coolly.

“Yes.” Saul knew—this was the selection of new apprentice candidates.

He pressed down his excitement, walked calmly over, and quietly took his place at the end of the line.

The boy who had been last turned around when he heard the noise, looked at Saul, first confused—then angry.

Saul didn’t know why, but he glared back fiercely without backing down.

After a few days of living with those boys, Saul had figured it out:

This world wasn’t like his old one.

If you acted kind and peaceful, people saw you as weak and easy to bully.

So—Saul chose to be strong.

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(End of Chapter)

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