Chapter 66: Hello, Senior. Goodbye, Senior.
Rocky was placed into the large storage box designated for corpses.
Next was Duke.
Duke also carried a curse.
The explosive firestone he wielded contained the most dangerous of the three-layered curses: the Shadow Curse Insect.
And Duke’s death was the final step required to awaken the insect.
“Sid likely planned it so that, even if Duke failed to kill you with the explosion, his death would still trigger the curse, ultimately achieving the same goal of cursing you to death.”
As he spoke, Byron touched his Adam’s apple in puzzlement.
“I’m not surprised you avoided the explosive firestone. I’m only slightly amazed that you evaded the curse insect. But how did you even manage to simulate vomiting black blood so convincingly?”
“Uh…” Saul retrieved a small vial of dark red liquid from his locker.
“This is a byproduct of my body modification research. I call it ‘Concentrated Plasma.’ Once activated, it turns into a large quantity of blood, and I can even add pigments to change its color as needed.”
Non-toxic, harmless, and essential for faking death.
Commonly known in television dramas as a blood pack.
“As for why it was black blood…” Saul couldn’t exactly say that the diary had told him. “Rocky’s dagger was poisoned, so I thought feigning poisoning might make future enemies drop their guard.”
In reality, Saul had taken a pseudo-death potion that slowed his breathing and lowered his heartbeat—just in case.
After looting Duke’s wallet, Saul placed his body into the storage box to accompany Rocky.
Byron informed Saul that both Rocky and Duke’s corpses were contaminated by the three-layered curse, just like Jenna’s.
Their deaths were all designed to implicate Saul. Once all were dead, the Shadow Curse Insect hidden in the explosive firestone would emerge and attempt to burrow into Saul’s body, consuming his flesh and blood.
This was something neither Byron nor Kongsha had foreseen.
They lacked one key piece of information: Sid could not attack Saul, the diary’s owner, directly.
Unless Sid was willing to relinquish the Diary of a Dead Wizard.
So, Byron and Kongsha had considered the strongest possible attack to be Sid risking punishment to kill Saul personally.
But in reality, Sid had chosen an elaborate and resource-intensive method to eliminate Saul.
Perhaps this was why Kongsha had grown curious about the entanglement between Sid and Saul.
Had Saul not been wary of Kongsha, ensuring that the now Level Three Apprentice Byron served as his hidden ace, today’s incident might not have ended so well.
Since learning from the diary that Kongsha would exploit him without regard for his life, Saul had never intended for her to be his long-term backer.
This arrangement was better—an exchange of interests.
Kongsha had probably realized by now that Saul had never taken the potion she had given him.
After wrapping up the aftermath, Byron jotted notes in his small booklet, deducting his fees for explaining curses and inspecting the morgue.
Once they confirmed there were no further threats, Byron bid farewell to Saul and went off to process his gains from the day.
The Third Morgue was finally left with only Saul.
Saul walked over to Sid’s broken corpse and placed it on the teleportation platform.
Turning back, he picked up a few sharp tools from the messy operating table and respectfully addressed the severed remains.
“Hello, Senior.”
Pausing for a moment, he gave a pale smile.
“Goodbye, Senior.”
...
Saul shivered.
He opened his eyes, his entire body feeling icy cold. The sensation of bare skin against the surface beneath him made him realize he was completely naked.
Above him, a stark white candlelight illuminated the ceiling.
Unknown symbols danced before his eyes, swirling with a chill, accompanied by faint sobbing sounds, like tiny worms burrowing into his skin.
Tap. Tap. Tap…
Footsteps approached.
For some reason, a wave of fear seized Saul.
He sat up abruptly, finding himself lying on the teleportation platform in the morgue.
The black leather surface beneath him felt firm—he had been treated like a guest of the morgue.
Tap. Tap. Tap…
The footsteps grew clearer.
Saul swallowed dryly, his throat parched and aching.
Turning his head, he saw that the morgue’s crimson door was not fully closed.
Beyond the palm-wide gap lay an abyss of darkness.
And beyond that darkness lurked an encroaching fear.
Tap. Tap. Tap…
The footsteps were nearly at the door!
A jolt of alarm shot through Saul, and he leapt barefoot to the ground, ignoring the confusion of why he was on the platform.
He had a strong premonition: if the owner of those footsteps found him, the consequences would be terrifying!
“I need to hide!”
He scanned the room.
No corpses, no blood, no scattered tools.
From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a pale hand pressing against the crimson door.
Saul hesitated no longer. He dived into the large storage box under the operating table.
The door must have opened silently.
Because he could hear the footsteps inside the room now.
“They’re looking for me!”
He was certain of it, though he still couldn’t figure out who they were.
“I should’ve closed the lid.” Lying flat against the ground, Saul felt uneasy. “But I didn’t have time.”
The footsteps wandered through the room. Reaching for the lid now would only expose him.
“This box is right under the operating table, with four sides blocking the view. As long as they don’t peek inside, they won’t see me.”
Saul lay utterly still, breathing as shallowly as possible.
Suddenly, the footsteps approached.
Closer.
And closer.
Stopping right beside him.
Above him, faint noises sounded on the operating table, then quickly fell silent.
“Why is there no movement?” Saul wanted to lift his head and peek.
But he didn’t dare.
“No footsteps… Wait, did they realize I’m here?”
“Are they bending down?”
“Are they about to peek under the operating table?”
“Are they…”
...
“Whoosh!”
Saul sat up with a jolt, drenched in cold sweat.
“Another nightmare.” He frowned, changing into fresh sleepwear and wiping his forehead with his discarded clothes.
“For two nights in a row, I’ve had the same nightmare. And in the dream, I never realize something’s wrong—I don’t even know I’m dreaming. In the dream, I lack the courage to resist, only the fear remains, like when I first became a servant.”
The terror of waiting for the unknown was crystal clear.
Even now, awake, he could vividly recall the helplessness in the dream.
A lingering sense told him—this dream was no ordinary dream.
If he were found in the dream, something terrible would happen.
For two nights, nearly identical dreams. And tonight, the dream progressed further—the owner of those footsteps seemed to have discovered him.
Had he not awakened in time, a face might have appeared above him!
“If I have the same dream tomorrow, will I be found?”
Even though it was just a dream, unease crept over Saul.
He turned to his left shoulder, where the diary lay.
The diary slept soundly.
“If I encounter danger in a dream, will the diary warn me?”
“I’ll go see Byron in the afternoon for a checkup.”
Why the afternoon?
Because he couldn’t skip class in the morning.
Tomorrow morning was the first official test for their batch of Level One Apprentices.
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