The first time he signed the unequal treaty, Wayne was a little nervous as he hurriedly flipped through the Book of Greed, wanting to see who the lucky big sap was.
The results were not very good. The contracting party was not only not a living person, but not even a person.
A dog!
The moment the contract was signed, a table of contents appeared on the second page. Opening the page where the Spirit of Revenge resided, the first servant's true form was revealed.
A half-rotted evil dog, gums exposed, one eye gray-white, the other side with only a dark eye socket, ribs exposed on the abdomen, the internal organs in the abdominal cavity completely disappeared.
The remaining black fur stuck to the decaying muscles, oozing black-yellow unidentified liquid like glue. Through joint efforts, this dilapidated body was barely glued together.
A nauseating scene, even though it was just an image, Wayne could still smell a disgusting stench.
"Yue~~~"
He retched twice, almost throwing up in the car.
"Buddy, if you dare to vomit in my car, I will throw you out."
The taxi driver was very dissatisfied; the car was his beloved, and he wouldn't allow anyone to mess it up.
"It's not my fault; your car smells too strong." Wayne immediately retorted, blaming it on the taxi driver's strong body odor.
The interlude ended, and Wayne continued to flip through the page where the Spirit of Revenge resided, receiving both good and bad news.
The Spirit of Revenge is a dependent. Strictly speaking, the moment the Spirit of Revenge becomes a dependent, the other party is no longer a grudge but a magical life transformed by the Book of Greed.
As Wayne's dependent, servant, and summon, all actions depend on Wayne's magic, and only Wayne's magic can feed the other.
Without magic, Wayne managed to open the Book of Greed and sign the first dependent solely because of the magic William had placed on him.
As a result, he could not summon the dependent and control it.
If the Spirit of Revenge does not receive the owner's magic for a long time, it will fall into madness due to hunger until it completely disappears.
At this point, the Spirit of Revenge has two choices.
First, to devour the master and gain freedom, wandering in the darkness and mist to become a new urban legend.
Second, to wait in place for extinction, offering the most sincere curse to the master before dying.
Seeing this, Wayne shuddered, fearing that the dependent would visit him in the middle of the night.
He comforted himself that dogs are loyal, the best friends of humans, and what ill intentions could a dog have? It was absolutely impossible for the dependent to devour the master.
The good news was that the contract and sacrifice had similar effects. Wayne gained some abilities of the dependent, two in total: smell and supernatural sense.
There was nothing much to say about smell; dogs are best at this. The supernatural sense was also easily understood; in humans, it's called the sixth sense, while in dogs, it's animal instinct.
These two abilities did not require magic to be displayed. The moment they were acquired, they instinctively integrated into Wayne as habits. If he used magic, he could amplify the coverage and intensity of these two abilities.
Unfortunately, he couldn't use them; he had no magic.
Why did it turn out like this?
The first time he opened the Book of Greed, signed a dependent contract, and became an extraordinary member, two joyful events coincided. And these two joys brought him more happiness, a time that should have been as happy as a dream...
But why did it turn out like this?
Why were they all support skills, without a single attacking skill?
Until the eve of dusk, until the taxi arrived at the warehouse district, Wayne was still blaming himself.
As a newbie, weak, helpless, and pitiful, the vast expanse of warehouse clusters appeared to him as ferocious beasts lurking on the land, ready to tear him to shreds once he stepped in.
The cult stronghold was at F-66, at least a twenty-minute walk away. Was there still time to learn magic now?
With a disheartened expression, under his silent gaze, Veronica took the lead, taking a detour towards the rear of Warehouse F-66.
Splitting forces in two steps, a pincer movement, this was the rhythm of being caught in a net!
"Wayne, I admire your courage and your determination to fight against the dark forces, even though you're scared to death, you still followed." William saluted with two fingers raised and dragged Wayne forward with his other hand.
"The human anthem is the anthem of courage. For justice, I am willing to contribute my humble efforts."
Wayne weakly replied. He followed to make sure he didn't miss Veronica and William. He didn't know when he would encounter the next magician; it was definitely not about courage and belief.
"Don't panic, Veronica is very strong, and with me here, you'll be fine."
Hopefully nothing will happen!
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
I have to say, William, although he's a bit of a gay, has a strong ability to reshape his relationships with the same sex. His strong physique also provides a great sense of security, making Wayne feel much more at ease with him around.
And William is right, Veronica is indeed very powerful. With her cute face and petite figure, she easily commands a high price after sleeping with someone. If anything unexpected happens, Veronica alone can attract all the firepower from the other side.
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The time had come to 6 o'clock in the afternoon. As the sun completely disappeared below the sea level, sporadic streetlights lit up the warehouse district.
Soon after, the mist rolled in, hazy like gauze, gently covering the entire city of Lundan.
Just as Wayne received a supernatural sense, a sense of foreboding arose due to the thin mist. His intuition told him that the nights in Lundan were truly dangerous. The solution was to quickly return home and seal himself under a quilt in bed.
However, the path home shrouded in mist was perilous. He didn't dare to walk alone at night and chose to stay by William's side.
"The smell of death... a barrier, it really is here..."
William looked at Warehouse F-66 from a distance, took out a black hooded cloak from his bag, covering his tall figure.
After a moment's thought, he pulled out another one and handed it to Wayne—a black robe of Veronica's, which didn't fit him well.
"Follow behind me, if a fight breaks out, just stay on the side..."
With the cover of darkness and mist, William calmly stepped into the barrier, a sparsely common perceptual barrier with low specificity, only serving as an early warning system. It indicated that the strength of the death cultists gathered in the warehouse was average and posed no real threat.
William easily bypassed the barrier's perception, but Wayne couldn't. The death aura on him was strong, causing the barrier to identify him as one of their own, unable to trigger an alarm, with no need for concealment.
Wayne thought about how the barrier could provide him with magical power. All magic was the same; if the Book of Greed could absorb William's magic, it could certainly absorb the magic barrier of the death cultists. He sealed a second contract, hoping to find an excellent attendant with attack skills.
But it didn't happen. The Book of Greed successfully opened, expanding his horizons. He couldn't just absorb everything; from now on, if Wayne wanted to control the book, he could only use his own magic power.
This brought him back to the starting point: Wayne had no magic power!
At that moment, Wayne had an unprecedented desire to become a magician.
At the entrance of the warehouse, William pressed his ear against the door, showing a mix of courage and caution, or perhaps a lack of experience in infiltration.
Wayne frowned as he watched. He felt inadequate and voiceless, believing that this was how magicians operated—crudely.
A moment later, William heard the murmurs of prayers, confirming that the cultists were collectively praising the Goddess of Death. He gently pushed open the warehouse door and slipped inside.
[Image: Gesturing.JPG]
Wayne stared at the waving hand, wanting to comment but afraid of disrupting the order of the gathering. He looked around the mist-covered warehouse area, feeling lost, and eventually followed suit and entered.
William politely closed the door, muttering incomprehensible words confidently as he joined the cultists' collective chant.
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In the center of the warehouse, around twenty people gathered, all wearing hooded black robes. They stood in a circle around a pattern made of candles, crossing their fists over their chests. The dim candlelight couldn't elongate their shadows, leaving half of their faces in alternating light and darkness. Together with the eerie prayers, everything made Wayne particularly uncomfortable.
By their style, the death cultists were clearly not the kind-hearted type.
As Wayne passed by a shelf, he casually picked up a pry bar and held it in his hand, pretending to pray with a sneaky smile, pretending to join the camp of prayers.
The cultists were too focused; they didn't notice the two unfamiliar faces among them.
Pretending to praise the Goddess, Wayne's gaze fell on the candle pattern, a familiar inverted triangle, nothing too complicated.
There was no blood, no sacrifice, no scenes of pure maidens being torn apart.
As the cultists fervently prayed, death responded to them. The candlelight turned to darkness, the inverted triangle symbol momentarily went black, and eight tentacles spread out from the left and right, pointing towards the warehouse ceiling and writhing in disorder.
Wayne was mesmerized. In a trance, he seemed to hear something, a deep voice whispering, asking if he would offer everything without reservation.
Wait a minute, why did the voice of the Goddess of Death sound so manly?
Wayne was astonished and puzzled. Could it be that the Goddess of Death is actually a man who chose to cross-dress for a better harvest of leeks?
As Wayne's thoughts wandered off track, the murmurs in his ear were suddenly interrupted, bringing him back from his reverie. He noticed that the surrounding worshippers had stopped their prayers and were all looking towards him.
In that moment of becoming the center of attention, Wayne couldn't help but swallow nervously.
The dim surroundings, coupled with the worshippers mostly covering their faces, made it impossible for Wayne to discern their expressions. He could only guess at the fierce faces and angry eyes that surrounded him.
To his disbelief, William sneered and joined the others, taunting while retreating behind the crowd.
"You promised to protect me!"
"Intruder, this is not the place for you," a figure stepped forward from the crowd, possibly the leader, gesturing for his companions to restrain Wayne.
Perhaps sensing the aura of death emanating from Wayne, the leader, with a sinister grin, threatened to ensure that Wayne received the Goddess's blessing that night, completely transforming him into one of their own.
"Stop fooling around, your Goddess is a real man, with a voice as rough as gravel!"
Wayne stepped back repeatedly, holding a crowbar across his chest. Seeing the worshippers standing firm, his courage surged.
Retracting his earlier words, Wayne thought to himself, "A crowbar is indeed mankind's best friend."
Then, Wayne witnessed the worshippers picking up steel pipes from the shelves, about twenty of them, with sinister grins making their way towards him.
Wayne sweated profusely, and in a dry voice, he said, "It's not that big of a deal, no need for a collective brawl. How about... we use our fists instead, maybe we can cut down on a few years."
Crash!
At the end of the warehouse, a high window shattered, and a slender figure leaped in, sprinting at a speed of a hundred meters to the center of the warehouse.
It was Veronica. She did not waste the opportunity Wayne fought for, taking advantage of the worshippers moving away from the candle array. She viciously smashed a glass jar at the center of the inverted triangle symbol.
After a crisp shatter, a green mist surged forth, vibrant greenery rapidly growing, disrupting the rhythm of death, causing the eight spider legs to wither and droop.
"Damn it, it's nature's minions!"
"Capture the heretic, she has ruined the sacred ritual and must pay the price."
Enraged, the leader and the worshippers turned their attention towards Veronica, brandishing steel pipes and charging at her.
At that moment, the lights inside the warehouse suddenly turned on, as William found the switch on the wall.
Veronica narrowed her eyes, facing the twenty burly men charging towards her with steel pipes. Unperturbed, she opened her personal bag and gripped a delicate and small handgun.
"Don't move, one move and I'll shoot."
The worshippers collectively paused, their actions uniform. At William's command, they grumbled and reluctantly dropped their steel pipes, pressing their hands against the wall in a row.
Wayne thought to himself, "Is this it? Just like that?"
Is this the brutal struggle of faith? Is this the battle of the sorcerers?
A bunch of cowards. Aren't you all followers of the Goddess of Death, ready to embrace death? Why are you so afraid of dying?
Mere bystanders, that handgun has at most ten bullets, and there are twenty of you. Attack together, she can't win!