Just as Wayne Baker was lamenting that crows are black everywhere, the undulating, bumpy cover of the Book of Greed began to pulse like breathing, drawing away the gray and black. The pirated copy returned to Blu-ray HD, and the moonlight became sacred once again.

The goddess’s filter was back!

Perhaps it was because he had glimpsed the goddess’s true face, or maybe because the death goddess’s followers had surrendered so shamelessly, but Wayne Baker truly couldn’t respect the gods of this world. He paid no attention to the pure, flawless light, and instead turned his gaze to the Book of Greed.

Next to the big eyeball, a slightly smaller eye opened. Its eyeball was gray and dull, completely devoid of vitality.

Wayne Baker stared in surprise, not understanding what had happened. He suspected the Book of Greed had leveled up, but it hadn’t—the contents of the pages were exactly the same as before.

There must be something new...

The magic seed left by Monica Harris was still there. The Book of Greed had no desire for magic from anyone but its master, so it left this “potato” alone.

This made Wayne Baker breathe a sigh of relief. As expected of code he had written himself—even with new features, it still had integrity, just like him, never accepting handouts.

Monica Harris had transferred most of her magic into Wayne Baker, and the intense emptiness made her tired. She wanted to lie down and rest, but didn’t want to get too close to Wayne Baker. Taking advantage of the moment, William Johnson seized the opportunity and scooped her up in his arms.

“Monica Harris, up you go!”

Bang!

“Ouch!”

At this moment, just like before, Veronica Smith used her astonishing strength to subdue William Johnson and snatched the black cat from his arms.

Monica Harris didn’t want to comment on the two’s squabbling. She said to the silent, eyes-closed Wayne Baker, “Don’t rush. The condensation of magic isn’t something that happens overnight. If you’re too eager, it’ll backfire. Relax, don’t tense up. Sense the magic seed I left behind. The Moon Goddess will guide you to find your own magic.”

Hearing this, Wayne Baker opened his eyes, nodded, and closed them again to continue sensing.

Monica Harris was very attentive. It was her first time guiding someone in cultivation. Although they hadn’t formally established a master-disciple relationship, she was still nervous about being a teacher for the first time. She jumped out of Veronica Smith’s arms and circled around Wayne Baker’s feet.

Veronica Smith shot a jealous look, snorted coldly, and beckoned to William Johnson: “Clean up. Lock all these guys in the box, and make sure to knock them out.”

William Johnson nodded. They were still students, so fighting was fine, but killing was absolutely out of the question.

According to Veronica Smith’s plan, to prevent the Death Walkers from getting information, not a single follower of the death goddess could be let go. They would be locked in a box and stored in another warehouse. Tomorrow, they’d contact the school via messenger bird and let the instructors handle the aftermath.

As for the Death Walkers, they would hunt them down personally, in order to lift the curse on themselves.

The sooner, the better. Graduation was near—they couldn’t delay any longer.

Veronica Smith didn’t set out that night for the town of Cafuno on the outskirts of London. She was in a hurry, but Monica Harris needed to rest and recover her magic, so the earliest they could leave was tomorrow morning.

……

London, mist and cold lights.

When night fell over the land, the whole city quieted down at an astonishing speed. Or perhaps, at this hour, those making noise were no longer the humans of the day.

The warehouse district was even more so. The workers finished early and went home, or to crowded bars, or met love on the street, discussing the meaning of life together. Large areas were deserted, the flickering streetlights dimming and brightening in the mist, creating an eerie atmosphere.

The wind whispered through the warehouses and intersections, sometimes shrieking like ghostly wails.

Whether the crying was real or fake, Wayne Baker only knew that there were ‘people’ all around. He could clearly feel many eyes watching him.

Having such strong perception wasn’t always a good thing. Everywhere Wayne Baker looked, he felt there were ghosts—so close, it seemed he could reach out and pull one from the fog.

Out of double caution, he stuck close behind William Johnson.

After a while, William Johnson turned around and said awkwardly, “Wayne Baker, can you not walk so close? It makes me feel unsafe. How about this—you walk in front.”

Heh, no way!

Wayne Baker ignored William Johnson and insisted on walking behind him. At this moment, Veronica Smith, holding the black cat, asked, “Wayne Baker, do you have a car?”

You magicians need a car? Why not just steal one?

Wayne Baker shrugged and said realistically, “I don’t have a car, but I can get one. The speed depends on the money—the more you pay, the faster I can get it done.”

“Can you drive?”

“I can, but I’m not very skilled.”

“That’s good.”

Veronica Smith nodded, took out a wad of bills with the Queen’s portrait from her wallet, handed them to Wayne Baker without even counting, and gave him a list of supplies, telling him to have everything ready by ten o’clock tomorrow morning.

Wayne Baker took the cash and asked tentatively, “Do I have to go too?”

“You don’t have to, but if you miss this chance, who knows when the next opportunity to lift the curse will come? If you’re unlucky, this might be your only chance,” Veronica Smith said slowly.

That scary?

Wayne Baker didn’t understand. He instinctively looked at William Johnson, saw him nodding emphatically, and finally chose to trust Veronica Smith.

Wayne Baker: “……”

Oh no, I actually trust the guy over the pretty girl!