Covered in slime and clutching the box in his arms, Saul continued ascending.
Perhaps he’d broken some illusion because he suddenly realized he’d already reached the sixth floor of the East Tower. To his left was the same runic wall that had once left all the newcomers dizzy and disoriented.
Even with his current mental strength, Saul didn’t dare look too long.
He wasn’t sure why the previously blurry world had suddenly become clear again—but only now did he notice a stinging pain on his forehead.
Probably from bowing too hard in front of the wall earlier, scraping his skin a bit.
"Wound the enemy for a hundred, lost 0.1 myself. Worth it."
Then another serious thought crossed his mind. “Gotta get back and shower fast. Who knows if this stuff’s gonna cause an infection.”
But he had to deliver what was in his arms to Kongsha first—no way was Saul sleeping with a severed head beside him.
He passed back through the corridor to the West Tower and kept walking up the sloping ramp.
Floors six through nine were the activity areas for First Rank apprentices.It was just past eight. The East Tower was as silent as a grave, but the West Tower still buzzed with some life.
Some people noticed Saul trudging upward and began whispering softly.
Others were eyeing the yellow leather bundle in his arms, curiosity flaring—but thanks to Saul’s current reputation, no one dared to approach.
Saul ignored the stares around him and walked on, step by steady step.
Once he left the First Rank area, the tenth floor—home to Second Rank apprentices—fell into silence again.
No one lingered in the corridors, chatting or exchanging insights from the day.
The dormitory doors lining the hall were all shut tight, no matter the hour.
Saul tilted his head slightly.
He still remembered when he’d been a servant, coming here to clean the halls.
The crying behind the doors, the scattered garbage, and… that puddle of blood.
That puddle had changed his life.
But before Saul could sink further into thought, a faint sound echoed from ahead.
He snapped back to attention and looked up the slope.
At the bend leading to the twelfth floor, just where the shadows grew thick, a pair of black leather boots appeared.
Who knew how long the person had been standing there?
Saul didn’t stop walking, only raised his guard as he moved forward—his gaze slowly trailing up from the boots.
A man emerged from the shadows at the bend.
It was Sid, who had been away from the tower for over a month.
He stared silently at Saul, shadows clouding his eyes.
But as Saul approached, Sid’s lips suddenly curled into a cold, exaggerated smile.
"Seeing your senior and not even offering a greeting?"
“Hello, Senior,” Saul greeted dutifully, even bowing slightly.
“…”
Sid hadn’t expected Saul to be so obedient—so unlike the terrified kid from a month ago, the one who had nearly been killed by him in panic.
After offering his greeting, Saul kept walking calmly.
His face wore a polite smile, but internally, he was on high alert.
The two passed close, nearly brushing shoulders…
"You really think the mentor cares about a First Rank rookie’s life? As soon as someone more useful comes along, you’re just garbage to be thrown away."
Saul turned to look at him. Standing chest-level to Sid, he had to tilt his chin up high just to meet his eyes.
He smiled sweetly. He had no idea how the slime on his head made that smile look, but he kept his tone respectful.
“Thank you for the advice, Senior. I’ll work hard to keep increasing my value.”
Sid let out a sneer, clearly unimpressed by Saul’s lack of self-awareness.
“If talent could be replaced by effort, the path wouldn’t be littered with so many hopeless bones.”
Saul didn’t argue back—he only stared quietly at Sid.
“Is he going to attack me directly? It’s not that late… no one’s around. It’s a good chance.”
But the Hardcover Book didn’t react.
“Sid doesn’t dare to strike.” Saul grew more composed.
The man didn’t say another word, hands in his coat pockets as he swaggered back down the path—almost in a good mood.
Saul waited until Sid’s figure vanished before turning and continuing his ascent.
“He doesn’t dare—or rather, he can’t touch me.” Saul thought as he walked. “I should’ve figured it out earlier. He couldn’t kill me in the library, and even sent Brown after me later. Sid’s been trying to get me killed this whole time!”
“But he’s never done it himself.” Saul’s eyes lit up. “It can’t be because of the mentor. Back when I was just a servant, he could’ve killed me without consequences—and yet, he didn’t.”
“Could it be that Sid… can’t kill?”
Saul immediately dismissed that idea.
Sid had killed that chubby kid who bribed his way through the test—right in front of all the new recruits.
“So maybe he… can’t kill me?”
The more Saul considered it, the more it made sense.
His eyes flicked toward the Hardback Book. “Sid’s looking for the book—and that book is the Hardcover Book on my shoulder. Maybe he’s not trying to silence me. Maybe he wants to kill me just to get this book!”
It was an absurd thought. Wild. Unfounded.
But it would explain Sid’s bizarre behavior all this time.
He wanted Saul dead—but refused to do the deed himself.
Saul stopped walking, staring dazedly at the small bundle in his hands, mind drifting far away.
Tonight had been the perfect chance for Sid.
Saul was carrying a forbidden, dangerous severed head. His own hair was still slimy and disgusting.
If Sid had struck then, he could’ve easily blamed Saul’s death on some supernatural incident.
But he hadn’t done a thing—just tossed a few insults.
"Killing the owner of the Hardcover Book means you can’t obtain it."
That sentence popped into Saul’s head.
“If I’m right, Sid knows a lot about the Hardcover Book. But… if that’s true, why’d he throw it on my head?” Saul frowned. The book was too mysterious, never introduced itself, and most of the time, Saul had to figure things out on his own.
“Doesn’t matter. Whether Sid knows about the death-predicting power or not, we’re already enemies. Right now, I’m too weak—I can only play it by ear and hang on to my patron for dear life.”
Saul resumed climbing.
“Sid will definitely act again.” He had barely taken a few steps before stopping again.
“Something’s off. Sid’s attitude today was strange.”
He’d been dark and brooding at first—but after their exchange, he’d walked away almost cheerful.
He’s already made his next move.
Saul recalled Sid’s words earlier.
"You really think the mentor cares about a First Rank rookie’s life? As soon as someone more useful comes along, you’re just garbage."
Mentor. Rookie. Someone more useful…
Saul narrowed his eyes.
“Sid left the tower to recruit a new rookie… someone to replace me in the corpse room?”
If Kaz hadn’t taken Saul under his wing, he would’ve never had this month of breathing room.
But that protection likely came with a price—his work in the corpse room.
Kaz probably didn’t want his new worker dying too quickly.
But if someone even better suited to the job appeared…
Kaz might not insist on keeping Saul.
And Saul didn’t believe the mentor had any real affection for him.
Especially now—Kaz rarely came by the corpse room anymore, ever since Saul’s dissection skills improved.
Counting on Kaz’s sentiment to protect him again? Not realistic.
Saul glanced down at the package in his hands and picked up the pace.
He needed to find the person he’d just begged for protection.
I did the job. No way you’re just gonna let me die, right?
You still need a brain, don't you?
Kongsha was not pleased that Saul had come straight to knock on her door.
She yanked him inside, the boy stumbling to the floor as the eyeballs in the glass dome all pressed against the surface—bloodshot, bulging, and ready to burst.
“What the hell are you doing coming straight up here like this?!”
(End of Chapter)