Chapter 138: Uncle and Nephew

Arriving on the street all the way, looking at the bustling crowds, Luge felt slightly at ease in his heart.

Recalling what those three said on the road, it seemed that living on that mountain peak required handing over more blood, while those broken mountain caves were unmanaged, free to stay or leave as one pleased. Although they didn't say it, Luge thought that a place requiring a greater price to stay must have certain benefits, otherwise no fool would stay there.

Speaking of benefits, Luge naturally recalled the comfort of that blood light shining on his body.

The people around in twos and threes included quite a few Wizard Apprentices, among them also quite a few of strange appearance; Luge was even dazzled. Although these weird-looking people weren't as exaggerated as him, completely a Kobold in appearance, he felt that his own looks here didn't seem like a big deal, at least they wouldn't draw onlookers.

Are all these people Bloodline Wizards? Or are they all Bloodline Modifiers?

But isn't the proportion of Bloodline Modifiers here a bit too high, he thought.

His previous experiences, and Kalu's advice to him, actually gave him an impulse to join some large organization; stepping onto the Teleportation Array and choosing that Snail Plate Academy was also because of this idea, wanting to try his luck. Pity plans can't keep up with changes.

His footsteps paused; in those crooked alleys, a shop selling Potions caught his attention.

First arriving in the Upper Realm, perhaps he should settle down first, observe the situation, then make other plans, he thought.

Luge turned into the alley; the clamor on the street instantly dropped by half.

He touched the rough old wooden door, pushed it lightly, and the door panel brought a burst of pleasant-sounding bells.

The narrow shop was slightly messy, piled full of various tall shelves and bottles and jars; the door closed behind him, and the shop instantly became extremely quiet.

The shopkeeper behind the old counter raised a fat Dog Head, staring blankly at Luge.

Luge had already taken off his Face Cover at the Street Side.

The reason he came here was because a sign recruiting Potion Apprentices was slanted in front of the shop door.

"Kobold?" the shopkeeper said.

Luge nodded.

At this time Luge also saw that this shopkeeper should not be a Kobold, just simply having a dog head.

Seeing Luge standing there dumbly, with no intention of selecting Potion goods, the shopkeeper understood his purpose.

The shopkeeper frowned; on his fat head the loose skin squeezed out wrinkle after wrinkle: "Who sent you to play me, little guy? Did they give you Sun Coins or Magic Stones? I have a Potion here that can make a person speak only the truth for three consecutive days; as long as you're still a Wizard Apprentice, one bottle takes effect……"

"I want to work here, become your Potion Apprentice." Luge said, choosing his words carefully.

Old Dog Head narrowed his eyes at him; Luge met his gaze equally sincerely.

"Go, that shelf over there, fetch a bottle of Truth Potion." Old Dog Head said.

Following his words, following his gaze Luge came to a crooked shelf that looked like it was made of old tree roots; from top to bottom, only at the very last corner did he find the Truth Potion the dog-headed shopkeeper spoke of.

"Drink it." Old Dog Head's voice came from behind.

Luge thought for a moment, looked at the label again, raised his head and drank the Potion.

Holding the empty bottle he just returned to the counter.

"Thank you for your patronage, twenty-five Standard Magic Stones." The shopkeeper stretched out his hand.

Luge took out twenty-five Magic Stones and placed them on the counter.

The shopkeeper casually swept his arm under the counter: "A few annoying guys spread the word that I only hire those with dog heads, so my place has stirred up quite a few jokes recently."

He curled his big dog mouth, seeming very helpless.

"That feeling must be very unpleasant." Luge chimed in.

"You just arrived here?" Old Dog Head said.

"Yes."

Luge didn't know what changes would happen after drinking that potion, so he decided to keep all replies as brief as possible.

"You really want to become my Potion Apprentice?" Old Dog Head said.

"Yes, sir." Luge said.

"What level is your Potion Studies at?" Old Dog Head thought for a moment, sizing him up and down.

"I can drink them," Luge subconsciously said, then hurriedly added, "I've only drunk Potions, never made them myself."

The wrinkles on Old Dog Head's forehead increased.

Luge even saw sparks popping from his sharp teeth.

Looks like these twenty-five Magic Stones of mine are wasted for nothing, only moistened my throat, and a bit bitter too, Luge thought.

Suddenly, a simple contract was slapped in front of Luge; the old counter even let out a creak.

"Lowest-rank contract, but also Wizard Council certified; leave your Secret Technique Mark, and you're this place's Potion Apprentice. Also the contract costs ten Magic Stones." Old Dog Head said.

Luge was instantly filled with surprise and joy, nimbly tossing over ten Magic Stones.

Old Dog Head swept his elbow on the counter, brushing the Magic Stones off the counter, eyes fixed on Luge, waiting for him to leave his Secret Technique Mark.

Luge concentrated, looking at the few simple clauses on the palm-sized contract.

Different goals, naturally different requirements; Luge's current situation, he didn't care about many things, or rather couldn't afford to care.

While reading, he also checked the contract for any suspicious patterns or the like; these were a bit of shallow experience mentioned early in Kalu Diary, but his flipping back and forth only earned a snicker without malice from Old Dog Head behind the counter.

The first clause of the contract was no salary.

Immediately following was that the taught Potion recipes required him to pay Magic Stones, and must not be passed on externally.

Successfully refined Potions belong to the shop; wasted materials from failures still require him to pay a certain amount of Magic Stones.

Until he masters three kinds of low-rank Potions, and both refinement success rate and quality reach Excellent rank, can he have a certain Potion profit share.

The rest miscellaneous clauses mostly involved Magic Stones; there were no restrictions on his person that Luge feared most.

Luge saw the last clause and also learned this place's name, Burning Blood City.

The contract finally also required a deposit of one hundred Magic Stones.

Luge looked at that city's name, pondering, and was about to take out more Magic Stones, but was suddenly stopped by the shopkeeper.

"This clause, and this one, and the last one hundred Magic Stones, can all be removed, as long as you agree to add one clause," Old Dog Head brought his big face close and said, "During your time in the shop, if anyone asks about you, you must tell outsiders you are my Nephew."

Luge laughed, continuing to fish out Magic Stones.

This unreasonably exceptional hiring should be aimed at that last added clause.

"Increase your practice opportunities every day, plus a low-rank potion recipe unique to me." Old Dog Head stared at him and said.

"Then I'll add a condition too: neither party may deliberately cause trouble for the other." Luge said with a laugh.

"Deal!"

The dog-headed boss pursed his lips, swiped a finger, and wrote the newly negotiated terms on the contract.

Simultaneously, Luge was also using his Spiritual Power to sense this contract; this was the first time he had seen a contract being modified, and one could only say it was worthy of being the lowest rank — under the perception of Spiritual Power, if a few more clauses were modified, this contract would shatter before it could even take effect.

After confirming there were no mistakes, the two people each left behind their own Secret Technique Marks; the contract floated up before the two people, slowly burning until only the characters of the terms remained in midair, and then they also gradually faded away.

This counted as the contract being completed.

"My uncle, I still don't know what your name is!" Luge said, looking at the gradually fading contract.

"You can call me Lun Se, Eggshell brat." The dog-headed boss said.

"Eggshell?" Luge said in surprise.

"Your Secret Technique Mark — isn't that an eggshell cracked open at the peak? It looks like a dragon egg..." Old Dog Head Lun Se pursed his lips and said; his Secret Technique Mark was a broken bone, which had made things very embarrassing for him in his early years.

"I always thought it was a flower bud." Luge said pensively.

(Chapter End)