Sorcerer’s Handbook

“Bring over six bottles of Fording—it’s on me!”

“One lobster Lala Fatty, extra-large portion, I’ll pay with my Contribution points!”

“A glass of Malt wine for everyone in the house—this round’s on ‘Black Beast’ Tuke!”

By noon, the registration point had been dismantled, and the Volunteer recruitment had concluded.

The restaurant buzzed with life, as the selected Death row inmates hastily spent their Contribution points on a feast. These bad seeds, who had done their share of misdeeds, even volunteered to treat others, sharing their happiness. After all, as Volunteers, they would either leave prison alive or vanish without a trace. Either way, their Contribution points would be useless, so they might as well spend them while they could.

The most tragic thing in life is to die with money unspent.

If there’s anything worse, it’s having money left when you desperately wish for death.

Ronald Wade was the latter.

He looked at the lavish food before him, his stomach clearly famished, but he couldn’t muster any appetite.

The restaurant waiter brought over the chilled Malt wine, compliments of ‘Black Beast’ Tuke. It had been days since Ronald had touched a drop of alcohol, though before his imprisonment, he’d drunk daily as if it were water. Thirsty as he should have been, after a sip of Malt wine, he felt it was nothing more than slightly bitter water.

Uninteresting.

Everything was uninteresting.

Prison was uninteresting, living was uninteresting, and self-loathing was uninteresting. Now, the only thing that could send a strong signal from Ronald’s pituitary gland, the only thing that made him feel alive, was—

“Wuuuh!”

Suddenly, Ronald plunged his face into the food, frantically stuffing his mouth, chewing vigorously, his teeth grinding through the sinew in the meat as if this was the only way to temporarily forget that vile, irresistible primal craving!

“You’ve got quite the appetite, but you look pretty lean. Do you work out regularly?”

Ronald looked up to find two of the prison’s celebrities—’Beautiful Beast’ Igor, known for his prowess in stripping newcomers through Contracts with spirits, and also an Intelligence Broker within the prison.

Langna had warned him on his first day to be cautious of anything Igor said; you never know when you might inadvertently sign an unfair Contract with him.

However, since Ronald’s incarceration was relatively brief, he had yet to witness Igor’s ruthless side, so his guard was not particularly high. The other celebrity, ‘Demon’ Ashe, had made a more significant impression—first defeating Igor, then conquering Valcas, surviving the Blood Moon Tribunal, a situation that almost guaranteed death.

To Ronald, it seemed Ashe was bound to lose every time, but somehow he always came out on top.

From never fighting to knocking out Igor with a single punch, from never wielding a sword to piercing Valcas’ throat, in the Blood Moon Tribunal Valcas clearly intended to bring him before the Blood Moon Sovereign, yet his head remained firmly on his shoulders…

If this were the outside world, Ronald would have thought he was witnessing the birth of a new Legend.

Unfortunately, this was Shattered Lake Prison.

Here, even the most miraculous feats were just like bubbles rising to the surface of the shattered lake, destined to burst upon reaching the air, never to bask in the sunlight.

“No,” he replied simply.

“Why are you so thin?” Ashe picked up a sandwich and took a big bite. “Is it because the meat on your bones ran away by itself?”

Ronald raised an eyebrow, his face expressionless. “Seriously, if you’re looking for trouble with Langna, just go find him directly. I’m not interested in getting involved in your grudges.”

“No, we’re here for you,” Ashe said. “Are you still deflated because you didn’t become a Volunteer? Don’t worry, there are other ways to get out of Prison besides becoming a Volunteer.”

Ronald’s spirit perked up. “What ways?!”

“Escape from prison!” Ashe said mysteriously. “We have a big plan now, and the success rate for escaping is very high. We just need a few more people. Are you interested?”

Ronald paused, then sighed. “Seriously, can you guys stop messing with me, please? I beg you, okay? How about this: I’ll treat you to a meal, one Contribution point’s worth, if you’d just be so kind as to leave me alone, alright?”

Ashe helplessly exchanged glances with Igor, who sighed. “If all the Cult Leaders outside were as eloquent as you, it’s no wonder the Four Pillars have been so quiet for so long.”

Igor looked at Ronald. “You know you can’t keep staying here, right? You must leave Shattered Lake, you must escape from Langna, even if it means becoming a Volunteer with a slim chance of survival. Because if you keep staying by Langna’s side, the outcome will be worse than death, more painful than death.”

Ronald’s eyes flickered. “I don’t understand what you mean. All I know is that without Langna, I’d become a regular at the Blood Moon Tribunal until an Executioner smashes me into meat sauce.”

“It’s certainly tempting,” Igor laughed. “As long as you agree to maintain a close relationship with him, he’s willing to lose to you in the Deathmatch, allowing you to earn a large number of Contribution points, and thus temporary escape from the Blood Moon Tribunal. Especially after you lost five Deathmatches in a row, Langna became your only lifeline.”

Like most Death row inmates, Ronald’s means of earning money were basically written in the penal code. After coming to Prison, he was almost unable to contribute any social value, so naturally, his sights were also set on the Deathmatch Society—surviving by plundering others’ resources, which had been Ronald’s way of life for over twenty years.

Unfortunately, there were too many plunderers in Prison and too few producers.

When Ronald came to the Deathmatch Society, he chose an old man who looked weak for a Deathmatch, only to be beaten to a pulp—’Diamond’ Taig had successfully stolen one Contribution point from a newcomer yet again.

The results of the next four Deathmatches were similar. Ronald had done his best to collect information and tried every trick in the book, but almost everyone willing to Deathmatch with him could crush him.

After losing 15 Contribution points, Ronald became the bottom of the Prison food chain. He didn’t dare accept any more Deathmatches. His confidence had been shattered in the first five fights, and he felt that everyone here was stronger than him.

If he couldn’t find a way to earn Contribution points, he would appear in every Blood Moon Tribunal hereafter, until one day the citizens’ generosity (or boredom) prompted the Blood Moon Sovereign to take away this Woodpecker Golden Beak killer seeking Redemption.

Just then, Langna appeared.

He was willing to intentionally lose in a Deathmatch to Ronald, allowing Ronald to gain Contribution points. This was a long-term agreement; Langna had a way of earning Contribution points, and as long as he was willing, both he and Ronald could maintain high Contribution points and live comfortably in Prison for several years.

He had only two demands. The first was that Ronald maintain a close relationship with him. Although Ronald was not very willing, he wasn’t particularly against it either; after all, he had seen a lot on the outside, so in order to survive, he could accept sacrificing a bit of his dignity.

And his second demand…

“Langna needs you as ‘ingredient,’ right?” Igor said. “He applies for a Deathmatch with you, and of course, you have to accept to get Contribution points. During the Deathmatch, all restrictions are lifted, so he can do whatever he wants to you… And just when you’re about to die, Langna will end himself to let you win… That’s the process of your deal, isn’t it?”

Ronald was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly: “As long as I don’t die, my body can recover. Although it may reduce my lifespan in the long run, without Contribution points, I wouldn’t even know if I could survive the next Blood Moon Tribunal.”

Igor laughed: “Yes, if the ‘contents of the trade’ are just this, then it’s indeed a very profitable deal, even I would be tempted.”

“What do you mean?”

“You should be clearer than I am, after all, I’ve only guessed Langna’s true purpose through collecting information from his previous ‘friends.’ Yet you are the Sacrifice in the Ritual, you must have felt the essence of this trade, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in such a hurry to become a Volunteer, trying to escape from Langna.”

Ronald’s pupils dilated: “Ritual? What Ritual?”

Igor’s lips curved up slightly, revealing the truth to the victims was one of his favorite parts of the act. If possible, he would tell the plan to every fool he had deceived—this world’s most joyful tragedy is making a fool realize their folly.

“You don’t think that Langna has made such demands just because he’s gluttonous, do you? And you must feel it, Langna doesn’t treat you as an item, a tool, or a stranger, he truly loves you… with all his heart, unreservedly.”

Ronald’s expression grew even paler, his hand trembling slightly as it grasped the meat patty.

It sounded ridiculous, Langna threatening Ronald to agree to his demands, and treating him like ribs to gnaw on in each Deathmatch; no matter how you looked at it, Langna seemed to only consider him a Slave to be taken advantage of.

If it were really so, then Ronald might feel relieved, because that was a relationship he could understand.

However, he felt that Langna’s love was genuine!

Ronald was not some solitary killer; he had been in love before, he knew what love felt like.

That’s why he was so afraid—every glance, every move of Langna’s revealed sincere affection!

Even when Langna was feeding, there was not a hint of Killing Intent in his eyes!

Deep affection and feeding—Langna was actually able to achieve a perfect unity of the two, as if both could coexist at the same time!

Ronald had always been afraid to think deeply, but now that Igor had brought it to light, he was forced to face this cruel truth!

He swallowed hard and asked with difficulty, “What, what kind of Ritual is this?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I only know the outcome for the Sacrifice of the Ritual,” Igor said. “Langna’s previous ‘friends,’ without exception, all died in their own dormitory.”

Ronald turned pale, “How is that possible!? How could they possibly die in their dormitories?”

Ashe also realized something—unless it was in the Arena Area, Chips prevented Death row inmates from self-harm or suicide!

If Death row inmates starve themselves, once the body reaches a certain level of hunger, the prison would notify the Prison Guard to assist the Prisoner with eating! Therefore, it is impossible for Death row inmates to die in their dormitories, unless they die of old age!

But clearly, Langna was not a twilight romance enthusiast.

“It is said that the body showed no abnormalities, it looked very normal, but all organs and tissues had stopped functioning.” Igor speared a strawberry from the strawberry cake with his fork, “It’s like… the Soul suddenly vanished, so the body collapsed right after.”

Ronald’s face was as white as paper, his lips trembling non-stop.

Igor delivered the final blow.

“Right now, you should be disinterested in everything, but you are full of anticipation for Langna’s Ritual, aren’t you? Even though your Contribution points are already enough, you still accept Langna’s Deathmatch invitations… Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because only during the Ritual does your Soul get a brief moment of wholeness—your incomplete Soul is desperate to escape from your body.”

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!