Chapter 80: Prosperity

“Kuku, I thought you’d disappear.”

“Gaga. No rush. No rush.”

After exiting the elevator, the senior brother walked ahead while Li En followed behind.

The scenery inside the lower levels of the mage tower was unremarkable—the familiar wooden floors and furniture reminded Li En of an office.

But seeing Kusla slowly walking up to him, Li En was surprised.

He had assumed that entering the mage tower would make Kuku vanish without a trace. Even though he could now only cast first-ring spells, Li En still felt this tower couldn’t hold him back.

Didn’t this guy already rush off to the tower’s library to “read books”?

“Here. Eventually. Not yet.” Kuku walked steadily, step by step, swaying slightly as he moved, pretending to be a low-intelligence mechanical construct.

In other words, since Li En could enter this mage tower, the library inside was effectively already Kuku’s own!

So, a little patience was indeed unnecessary right now—rushing would only alert others. But did Kuku have patience?! Could he suppress his craving for new spells and wait for a better opportunity?!

“To be honest, if you don’t explain clearly, I won’t cooperate with you.” Li En sighed. He already knew how to deal with Kuku.

No socializing, no emotional appeals—just say it straight. If it works, fine; if not, no amount of flattery or favors would help.

Li En had confirmed: once the spirit soul could manifest, that satisfaction meter had truly become a mere decoration.

“Uh, outside… it’s fun. The streets… super interesting! Looking forward to it.”

Now, Li En fully understood.

The street outside was filled with non-humans and all kinds of shops, naturally featuring new-era technologies and goods. Compared to the familiar mage tower, the unknown tech and merchandise of the non-humans were far more intriguing.

Once a new toy appeared, he naturally abandoned his original plan—this was very Kuku, very goblin-like.

But at that moment, Li En immediately recalled the self-destructing steam locomotive—many of those shops were likely run by dwarves and gnomes.

Instantly, Li En’s scalp prickled—he sensed impending disaster.

"Don't cause trouble. At least, don't drag me into it." The longer Kuku possessed him, the more Li En felt he was being corrupted—his hard-won moral bottom line, instilled by Su Er’s brother, was rapidly slipping.

“Gak. Trust my skills! You won’t get caught! Even if you do, you won’t be implicated!”

Fine—you’re not denying you’ll cause trouble, just confident you won’t get caught yourself.

Li En nodded. He decided to trust Grand Mage Kuku’s integrity—he forgot his own morning vow: “Never trust a goblin’s confidence.”

Goblins know no fear! Dragon-blooded ones fear whom? Whether you can win is one thing; whether you charge ahead is another!

“Young Master Li En.”

“Just call me Li En, Master Skor.”

“You’re a sorcerer?” The senior brother looked at the small creature who had started off normal but now scampered around curiously, deep in thought.

Mechanical familiars were rare, but not unheard of. This level of self-awareness couldn’t be a manufactured golem—it must be a mechanical lifeform from the Mechanical Realm.

To summon such a rare familiar, this junior brother might not just be a sorcerer—he could have special bloodline.

Could he be an alchemical lineage? A half-breed from another plane? In today’s arcane world, alchemists and potion-makers were highly sought after.

“Hmm. I’m a first-ring sorcerer.” Practitioners often described their level by the highest spell they could cast.

“That’s good. Remember to add it on the form later—it’ll earn bonus points.” Master Skor accepted this calmly and offered Li En advice on his development.

Hard workers often resent those who gain without effort, but millionaires rarely envy someone who finds a wallet.

Times have changed. In today’s beast-human world, magical civilization is strong enough, and mages are confident enough to face practitioners of other systems—at least, low-tier sorcerers don’t concern them.

This is also because, aside from a few sorcerer families with unique lineages, many sorcerers now voluntarily come to mage towers to learn spellcasting—like Salliman, the psychic sorcerer.

His surface identity as a first-ring sorcerer was also the result of discussion between Li En and Kuku.

On one hand, he needed the sorcerer identity to conceal his uniqueness; on the other, this was a seller’s market—the mage tower had no shortage of apprentices, and Li En needed to prove his potential and distinctiveness to gain more opportunities.

“Tsk.” Kuku was displeased. Comparing past and present, he increasingly felt he was suffering racial discrimination.

“...Don’t play pranks. At least while I’m around.”

“Then wait a moment. First, take me to the gnome shop!”

“Fine.”

Soon, Li En realized his planning had been overthought.

Even after easily passing the initial screening, he still had no right to meet his master, the Grand Mage.

The senior brother merely led him to a logistics warehouse and handed him a set of items.

“If you come down this street, you’d better wear this robe. Here’s your spellcasting material kit, here’s the universal textbook. The next Generalist class starts tomorrow afternoon—you’re just in time. Tuition, miscellaneous fees, equipment costs total 136 gold coins. Round down to 130.”

Instantly, Li En was stunned.

Tuition was one thing—but this expensive?! This tuition could buy property!

“...You can use it for now. Just make up the payment within a month. If you’re having trouble, uh, the goblin bank at the end of the street offers loans—though the interest is steep.”

For apprentices who couldn’t pay, the senior brother felt nothing—most apprentices from common families couldn’t afford it anyway. They typically worked while studying, and many apprentices working in nearby shops carried “student debt.”

Considering this junior brother’s background—he’d once been a paladin—it was normal he couldn’t pay... Wait, he won’t go slash those goblin loan sharks, will he?

But it wasn’t his concern. He just needed to do his job.

“It’s not that your master is being aloof—he’s genuinely busy. Recently, the royal court and the city lord’s office have been holding daily meetings with mages. The Generalist class is also an opportunity—if during your studies you develop other interests, you can adjust freely. When you graduate, if you still wish to join us, you can formally become a disciple then.”

Li En understood—they were likely discussing underground ruins and the beasts.

The so-called Generalist class was, in fact, “Accelerated Basic Knowledge Training for Mages,” a joint training program organized by the Mage Guild and several mage towers.

In the past, mages each took on a group of apprentices and selected the most talented among them. But with insufficient resources and growing numbers of apprentices, this one-to-one or one-to-few system had become inefficient.

Often, an entire cohort produced no standout talent (which was the norm), wasting effort and energy—Grand Mages no longer wished to expend their time on this.

Thus, whenever enough mages gathered, this mature training mechanism naturally emerged.

Mid-tier mages served as instructors, gathering new apprentices for short-term training; only those who stood out earned the right to seek a master.

Of course, from another perspective, if you were exceptionally talented, you could gain fame during this phase—and then a suitable Grand Mage would come to you to take you as a disciple.

Mutual selection—less personal, but far more efficient.

And this system worked only because mages had become numerous enough to form a two-way market.

“Good! Good! Progress!”

Kuku was satisfied. But Li En, now walking the street in his white mage robe, felt increasingly odd.

It felt like a cram school and postgraduate prep course.

“It’s good. That master isn’t suited for you.”

Salliman’s master was an “Enchanting Grand Mage,” whose spell school didn’t suit Li En. In Kuku’s view, Li En’s red dragon bloodline clearly favored Evocation and Conjuration.

But classes could wait until tomorrow. For Li En, the immediate issue was:

“Where do I get money?!” 130 gold coins were a true astronomical sum in this era.

A few gold coins could support a family for a year—130? Even selling his house might not cover it.

If he had a choice, Li En wouldn’t dream of borrowing money—even without knowing the goblins’ nature, he could guess it was usury.

“I have a way! I have a way!”

At that moment, Kuku suddenly exclaimed gleefully.

“I—” Li En wanted to refuse; his experience told him trouble would follow. But considering the astronomical sum of 130 gold coins...

“Fine. Try it. Just don’t drag me into it.”

(End of Chapter)