Chapter 169: Negotiation
Saul fixed his remaining right eye on Hayden, watching as the color drained from his face.
From what Saul knew, Hayden had been hiding in the morgue, avoiding classes, research, and progress—probably just waiting until he turned thirty so he could leave the Wizard Tower and live a free, low-profile life.
But reality wasn’t as simple as he had imagined.
Now, the reclusive Hayden had finally come face-to-face with a truth he had never understood.
His entire demeanor collapsed; his body wavered, and he placed a hand on the tool bench, scattering the neatly arranged instruments into disarray—just like his current state of mind.
"I told you not to hide. Don’t hide, you coward. Now look, it’s over! It's all over!" Despite his pale face, Hayden suddenly spoke words completely at odds with his expression.
Seeing him like this, Saul pinched his own chin, deep in thought.
After living as neighbors for two years, Saul had long noticed Hayden’s personality issues—he seemed to have developed a second persona. Whether it was the result of sorcery radiation or some deep-seated psychological disorder, Saul couldn’t say.
At first, Saul hadn’t intended to get involved, but during their recent collaboration, he suddenly realized that Hayden was actually a pretty good assistant.
No unnecessary curiosity, solid foundational knowledge, and a near-perfect mastery of Tier-0 sorcery. His hands had processed an uncountable number of "clients," giving him a wealth of experimental experience.
Most importantly, Hayden had no backing.
Saul lowered his hand, intertwining his fingers.
"Senior Hayden, I’ll give you a choice. Do you still want to leave the Wizard Tower at thirty, or do you want to spend the last two years pushing for Tier 3?"
Saul’s words shook the restraint Hayden had maintained for years, but then he remembered his own limitations and deflated.
"Saul, I’m already twenty-eight. When you say two years, you really mean only two years."
Saul didn’t press him. He glanced at the wall filled with human specimen cabinets. "If you change your mind and want to give it a shot, you can come find me."
As Saul walked toward the door, he added, "If you decide to try, just leave an eye outside my door. If I see it, I’ll come find you."
"You? You’re going to help me?" Hayden gasped, staring at the fourteen-year-old Saul, finding it absurd—yet he couldn’t help but want to believe him.
"I’ll do my best." Saul shrugged and pulled open the morgue’s scarlet door, his pale knuckles standing out starkly against the red.
Leaving the morgue, Saul checked the time. It was about right—time to head to Kujin’s dormitory for a meeting laced with hidden schemes.
---
Kujin opened the door and immediately noticed Saul’s missing eye.
"Your eye…"
"Just a minor experiment mishap. It’s fine," Saul replied casually.
As Saul stepped inside, Kujin suddenly shut the door from the outside, leaving himself in the hallway.
Saul hesitated, then immediately turned back to open the door.
Before his hand could touch the doorknob, a voice came from inside the bedroom.
"No need to be nervous. Kujin isn’t coming in because the person who wants to talk business with you is me."
Saul turned back and saw the man from last night—the one who had taken off his pants—Ferguson.
Saul put on a look of appropriate confusion and caution. "Senior, who are you? And what do you want from me?"
"Sit down," Ferguson gestured to the table and chairs in the living room. "I prefer to talk while seated."
"Because you can’t stand properly?" Saul thought to himself, hesitating for a moment before taking the seat closest to the door.
Ferguson sat across from him, ready for negotiation.
"I don’t know what kind of skills you have to take Kuqin’s place for all these years," Ferguson said, lifting his chin to examine Saul, "but Kujin and I have always had an agreement—I provide academic credits or whatever else he needs, and he provides me with materials exclusive to the Second Warehouse."
So straightforward?
Saul straightened his back. "That was your deal with Kujin. Now that he’s left the warehouse, I don’t have the same capability to continue that transaction with you."
Saul wasn’t foolish enough to blurt out, "So you guys have been smuggling materials?"
Feigning ignorance was one thing—being completely clueless was another.
Ferguson didn’t beat around the bush. "What are your concerns?"
"The metal door. If you’ve been doing this, you should know it automatically verifies all outgoing items. Anything not logged through the communication pen can’t be taken out."
"We can handle the transportation problem. What else are you worried about?"
We?
Was he subtly implying Kujin was also involved, or did he have other partners?
Saul pondered for a few seconds. "What do you have to offer?"
"The basics—magic crystals, academic credits. Also, since you’ve taken on a warehouse duty, you probably can’t leave the Wizard Tower for long periods, which means external missions are out of the question for you. If you ever need something that’s not available within the tower, you can ask me—I can help you find it."
Saul leaned back, crossing his arms. That’s a tempting offer.
"And what exactly do you need me to transport? Let me be clear—anything with a serial number is off-limits. I won’t touch it, even if you promise to handle the consequences."
Ferguson tapped his fingers on the armrest. "We won’t deal in forbidden materials. Just some ordinary things—we’re looking for long-term cooperation."
Now it was Saul’s turn to consider.
"How do I know I won’t be secretly reported after our deal?"
"Hahaha…" Ferguson leaned back. "And what if you were? As long as you claim you used the materials yourself, do you think the mentors will go through every single missing item?"
Ferguson raised a finger and wagged it. "And don’t even think about reporting us. We’ve been doing this for years. Besides, the mentors are already aware—it’s just that we don’t overstep their boundaries."
So they really had been smuggling materials for a long time. But Saul knew Ferguson wasn’t telling the whole truth.
Even if he hadn’t overheard the conversation between him and Kujin, Saul wouldn’t have taken Ferguson’s words at face value.
"I understand, but I need some time to consider." Saul glanced at the sand timer on the wall and stood up. "It’s almost three—I’m heading back to the warehouse."
Ferguson didn’t get up, but his face darkened slightly as he clasped his hands together, partially covering his mouth.
"Saul, you need to understand something. We’re not rogue wizards, not lone wolves wandering the wastelands. Cooperation—whether short-term or long-term—is the norm. Otherwise, why do you think Master Gorsa built the Wizard Tower? One person’s strength will always be limited."
Saul lowered his head slightly. "I understand your point. But since I’m considering collaboration, I have to be cautious. If I agreed too easily, you’d be suspicious too, wouldn’t you?"
He added, "What exactly do you want?"
Ferguson pursed his lips, hesitated, then said, "For secrecy, I’ll only tell you when you enter the warehouse. If you take too long inside or come out empty-handed, our deal is over."
They weren’t giving Saul any time to prepare—obviously to prevent him from pulling any tricks.
But they didn’t know he had already overheard their plan.
Saul pressed his hands against his knees and stood up. "Alright, sounds like what you want isn’t simple."
Ferguson stiffened. He didn’t want Saul thinking that, so he quickly clarified, "Anything stored in the Wizard Tower isn’t simple. We just don’t tell you in advance to avoid unexpected incidents."
He tried to shift the topic.
"Don’t keep us waiting too long. Give us an answer by tomorrow night, or we might have to find another partner."
Saul’s smile instantly turned cold. "Find another? How? Are you threatening me?"
Being questioned by a Tier-2 apprentice infuriated Ferguson. He gripped the armrests, as if ready to rise, but then stopped and clenched them instead.
"No threats," he said through gritted teeth. "Just a necessary reminder."
Seeing Ferguson back down, Saul immediately switched to a cheerful smile. "Thanks for the reminder, Senior. I’ll be going now."
This time, he didn’t bother promising to consider the offer.
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