Sorcerer’s Handbook

“Well, if it isn’t the Tax Bureau’s executive secretary Edmund. I told you that you’d end up joining me sooner or later.”

“Guys, this one’s got a grudge with me, so don’t you all fight over him. I’ll let you have the last five Deathmatches, but I’m taking the first five for myself, alright?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, one big shot after another, eh? So, does that mean Andrei’s Eternal Wine Club has been completely wiped out? The mayor really went too far, not sparing a single one.”

“Kaimon City is now Fernand Snow’s kingdom.”

In the Central Hall, the death row inmates were crowded together, their laughter and cheers welcoming the new prisoner. Compared to the schadenfreude of the senior inmates, the newcomers were much calmer, one by one pressing their fingers onto a copper registry under the direction of the Prison Guards.

“It’s strange, I didn’t get such a grand welcoming Ritual when I was first incarcerated.” Ashe, observing from a distance, couldn’t help but remark.

“That’s because you’re special.”

Ashe turned around to find the Necromancer Harvey casually picking up the conversation as if they were old friends. “The infamy of the Four Pillars is too great. You are the first Cult Leader of the Four Pillars in a century. Before your permissions could be thoroughly modified, the prison wouldn’t dare let you near other Prisoners.”

“Modified permissions?”

“Have you seen that Catalog of Sinners?” Harvey pointed to the copper registry. “We all need to press our fingers onto it when we get incarcerated. Once we do that, the prison takes over our permissions, allowing them to control various privileges, such as attack permissions, arcane energy outputs.”

“Ah?” Ashe was surprised. “Weren’t those permissions already revoked when we were captured?”

“Yes, but before, our management permissions were in the hands of the Sin Hunter’s Hall. After incarceration, they need to be transferred to the prison.”

“Why such a hassle?”

“It’s necessary. First, if our permissions were still with the Sin Hunter’s Hall, they could remotely lift our restraints. If we were to cause trouble here, wouldn’t the prison be in trouble? Wouldn’t the Sin Hunter’s Hall be blamed? Therefore, both the Sin Hunter’s Hall and the prison must transfer jurisdiction.”

“Second, the Processor of the Sin Hunter’s Hall is too far from the prison. Over time, the restraints might wear down.”

Ashe was taken aback. “Restraints can wear down?”

“All shackles eventually face the day they rust.” Harvey said this and then suddenly stepped out of the crowd, grabbing the collar of one of the Snake Species: “Habron, where is Nalber?”

The Snake Species, seeing Harvey, turned pale in color: “Archibald, how… how can you remember me? You shouldn’t remember me!”

It took Ashe a moment to recall that Harvey’s full name was Archibald Harvey, but the name was so long that he only remembered the last name.

But what did the Snake Species mean by ‘you shouldn’t remember’?

“I am a Necromancer; for me, adding a backdoor to a Soul isn’t something impossible… Memories, they are things you can’t recall, not things you completely forget.” Harvey glared at the Snake Species: “Where is Nalber!? Why didn’t she come in with you!?”

For a moment, Ashe thought Harvey had a vendetta against that Nalber—the prison for Death row inmates wasn’t a place where normal people would hope their enemies would end up, right?

But the Snake Species’ response hinted at a soap opera-like twist, “Why would you want to remember her… You’re just asking for misery, aren’t you?”

“Did she betray you? Did she flee? Or did she—”

“She’s dead. Andrei’s regime has fallen; we were hunted down during our escape, and she was shot in the head. There was no saving her.”

Harvey’s lips twitched: “…You promised me, the boss promised me, you all…”

“The boss is dead too. I was the weakest, so I was captured first.” The Snake Species said: “The Sin Hunter’s Hall sent an entire Enforcement Squad… Fernand Snow deliberately leaked information to make us flee. They were intent on eradicating us root and stem; we were just ants they crushed incidentally.”

“I don’t care about that, I don’t care about all that…!” Harvey’s face contorted with anger, his teeth clenched, but his legs gave way, and he knelt down, his eyes reddening: “Impossible… That’s Nalber, how could she just…”

Nobody separated them, even the Prison Guards didn’t bother—with the Chip Restrictions, the most aggressive thing they could do was grab each other’s collars; a physical fight was impossible.

The commotion was quickly forgotten, not even worth gossiping about. Although Ashe was curious about Harvey’s dramatic past, it was clear that approaching him now would only lead to a Deathmatch. Seeing that it was about time, Ashe headed to the restaurant for a meal.

In the restaurant, a group of crew members and Blood Mad Hunters were already eating. They all sat on one side of the restaurant, while the Prisoners sat on the other side—apart from the fact that there were no troublemakers left in Shattered Lake Prison, even if there were, they couldn’t cause trouble or hurl insults, so what were they supposed to do, walk over and greet the hunters?

Today’s recommended menu was red bean Lala Fatty, Orc cheese lettuce, and coconut custard tart. Ashe had just sat down when a refined-looking young man took a seat opposite him.

Ashe felt like he had just seen this person at the registry: “New here?”

“Uh, yeah, hello, my name is Baraka.” The young man replied shyly.

“Hello, I’m Ashe.”

But having been at Shattered Lake Prison for so long, Ashe had developed a sense of caution. It’s often said that the prettier the exterior, the darker the interior; this shy young man might be a lawless thug with a laundry list of crimes, “How come you’re here for a meal?”

“Because… it’s noon?”

“Shouldn’t you be restricted to your dormitory on your first day here, waiting for meal delivery?”

“Not at all, we were taken to see our dormitories and then given free roam immediately, no restrictions.”

Ashe understood; it seemed that being confined on the first day was a special treatment reserved for Cult Leaders.

“Did you end up here because of political strife? To become a political prisoner at such a young age, you’re quite accomplished!”

“No, no, no, I’m actually… a writer.”

When Baraka mentioned his occupation, he became even more shy.

“…Is it really that strict outside, to the point where writing a book can get you sentenced to death? Political content? Adult material?”

“Actually, I haven’t written anything yet.”

“Huh?”

“I had just finished a novel a few months ago when I came up with a brilliant idea. So I discussed it with my editor, and he told me that if I insisted on writing it, he would have no choice but to report me to the Sin Hunter’s Hall. ‘Go to prison and write there,’ he said, ‘don’t get our publishing house in trouble.’”

Ashe blinked in surprise: “And then you just came here?”

Baraka nodded: “After hearing about the subject of my book, the Sin Hunter’s Hall sent a Memory Master to investigate my memories. Following a judicial decision, I was charged with ‘endangering public safety’ and sentenced to Redemption. During the Blood Moon Tribunal, they aimed to Purify my thoughts.”

“Couldn’t you just not write it?”

“After the Memory Master examined my memories, it was clear I had no repentance; my mind was full of details of the new book. They believed that as long as I was alive, I would find a way to write it. Indeed, that’s true because I’m not a creator; I’m a narrator. I can’t let such a good story rot away in my head.”

Ashe gave a thumbs up: “Keep it up, I’ll support you! By the way, does it have any erotic content?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll support you in spirit, I’m actually not much into books.”

While they were chatting, Ashe finally saw Igor enter the doorway. He quickly placed his tray in the return area, dumped his food into the swill bucket, and hurried over to Igor, slinging an arm around his shoulder: “Have you eaten yet? The hunters have almost finished, and the action signal will appear soon. Where are Langna and Ronald—”

“They won’t be coming.”

“Huh?”

“I told them, the plan is canceled.”

Ashe didn’t show any surprise or hysteria, no confusion in his eyes, just looked calmly at Igor, saying nothing.

“Ashe, you know the effect of a Contract; unless absolutely necessary, I cannot go against your wishes,” Igor said. “And deep down, I’m not really resisting—if I really were, I wouldn’t have proposed a plan that I’ve been concocting for years.”

“For me, this plan was also a long-awaited stage, and it was you who filled the last gaps in it. To be honest, even if you hadn’t made that wish to me, I might have been unable to resist going along with you in planning this operation.”

“Believe me, I want to leave this manure pit that suffocates even the air just as much as you do.”

Igor placed his hand on Ashe’s shoulder: “But today really isn’t the day, the plan must be canceled.”

“Why?”

“Because every critical link in the plan has become impossible to realize. Too many special events have occurred this week; I failed to account for their impact, leading to a reality that is far from what I had envisioned.”

Suddenly, the sound of a commotion echoed from the entrance as the first group of hunters finished their meals and began to leave, while the second group started to enter the restaurant.

Ashe glanced at them and sighed: “The action signal has arrived.”

Igor shook his head gently: “This is a danger signal… You will soon see the first unstable factor that destroys the plan.”

Suddenly, all the Blood Mad Hunters stood up, bowing in unison to the newcomer at the door: “Greetings, Captain!”

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

The White-haired Hunter, wearing the Sin Hunter Half-sleeve, glanced at the death row inmates and said with a smile: “Scum, good afternoon to you too.”

One of the death row inmates looked up dissatisfied: “I will complain about you to the Sin Hunter’s Hall—”

“It’s rare to insult so many pieces of scum at once; I’m willing to accept the punishment. It’s just losing a month’s salary for one insult. Hmm, now that I’ve insulted twice, there go two months’ salary.”

The White-haired Hunter snapped his fingers and revealed a disdainful smile: “But I prefer the number three, so let’s add one more—How does it feel, scum, to be insulted by me and not be able to retaliate? Isn’t it annoying, hahaha! I especially love to see the helpless expressions on the scum’s faces when they are angry but can do nothing about it!”

Another death row inmate with a grim expression said: “I will remember you, you’d better—”

“You should indeed remember me, because many of you were caught by me!”

His eyes gleamed with a bloody light as he casually swept his gaze across the inmates in the restaurant. His look was like a sharp sword, making everyone he stared at shudder with fear, and Ashe, in particular, remembered the last time he met him—

The fear of being pierced through the chest with a sword spread throughout his body again.

“I am Gerard Wessminster, a Blood Mad Hunter from the Sin Hunter’s Hall, Hunter Number 307791.” Gerard said with a mocking laugh: “When you meet the Blood Moon Sovereign, don’t forget to send my regards.”

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