In the deep zone, within a certain gloomy cave, extremely discordant commotion was currently echoing.
"Help! Help us! Let us go!" Bound tightly by fungal strands until they could barely move, the lanky thug and his accomplices huddled together like pigs and sheep awaiting slaughter, letting out terrified wails.
"Scream! Scream all you want! You can scream your throat raw and no one will come save you! Hahahaha!" A terrifying inhuman voice rang out. The cave fell into brief silence, then erupted with even more miserable crying and pleading.
Piggy crossed her arms in distaste, furrowing her brow. "So noisy. Boss, do you really have to mess with them like this?"
"You really don't appreciate the finer things!" Though complaining, Lin Jun still accommodated Piggy's request.
Hallucinogenic spores quietly dispersed. The cries in the cave rapidly weakened, soon falling completely silent, leaving only heavy breathing and occasional unconscious mumbling.
After a brief period of "processing," before long, a "delicious lanky thug" radiating strange allure was freshly prepared.
Piggy carefully collected a thread of crimson liquid and brought it to her mouth.
The instant the liquid touched her throat, Piggy's entire body jolted violently, trembling as if electrocuted!
She squeezed her eyes shut, tilted her head back, as if savoring some ultimate delicacy, and remained motionless for a long time.
Lin Jun hurriedly asked: "How is it?"
Piggy slowly opened her eyes. When she looked at the unconscious lanky thug again, her gaze had completely changed—her eyes burned with intensity, as if staring at a peerless treasure without equal in the world!
"Boss," her voice trembled slightly with excitement, "I can say without any exaggeration that if you sent this person to the empire, there really might be a high-ranking duke willing to trade an entire city for him! Of course, more likely they'd fight each other over him..."
"Really worth that much?" Lin Jun was shocked too.
Piggy nodded vigorously, her tone absolutely certain. "Boss! This is unprecedentedly delicious blood!"
And it was [Tastiness LV8]!
Lin Jun thought it over and felt this assessment made perfect sense.
He filled several containers inscribed with preservation magic spells with the blood, sending them back through the duke's spy network with the highest priority classification.
Meanwhile, inside Crimson Spire.
Sigismund sat with furrowed brow, flipping through an ancient tome emanating an archaic aura, concerning the essence of souls and extraction techniques.
On his large desk, books on similar topics were already piled as high as a small mountain.
His newly appointed aide stood respectfully at the side, reporting the latest progress on "recruiting practitioners of abyssal magic."
The previous aide who had grown suspicious of him had long been transferred by Sigismund through a seemingly-promoted-but-actually-demoted maneuver to handle tedious and unimportant logistics work in the rear.
This new aide knew nothing of the duke's "abnormality" and instead felt honored to be trusted with core affairs.
Regarding the "cohabitant" inside his body who constantly used his name for personal purposes, leaving him to clean up the mess—Sigismund chose to turn a blind eye, temporarily enduring it and allowing the other party to mess around.
In return, as part of this tacit understanding of "mutual non-interference," Lin Jun also didn't prevent Sigismund from consulting this soul knowledge, even though Lin Jun knew Sigismund was searching for a method to completely eliminate or at least expel him, this unwelcome guest.
The two maintained their "roommate" relationship under this strange and fragile balance, taking turns using the body and each carrying out their own plans.
As for the fate of those low-tier evil mages, no one cared.
But in reality, this recruitment plan that had been issued was proceeding unexpectedly smoothly.
Half-demon Varen pulled tight his worn mage robe with frayed edges. His gaunt face was etched with exhaustion and a desperate, all-or-nothing anxiety. In his sunken eye sockets, a pair of eyes gleamed with an unusual light sparked by the recruitment notice he'd seen not long ago.
Duke Sigismund... was openly recruiting evil mages, with no level restrictions!
This news struck like a boulder thrown into stagnant water, creating massive ripples among them—these low-tier evil mages struggling in the shadowy corners of the empire.
Varen decided almost without hesitation—he had to go!
The evil mage profession, while not explicitly banned in the empire like in human nations where they were hunted down, certainly didn't mean they enjoyed any good reputation here.
"Glorious deeds" of blowing themselves up and taking out half a laboratory or an entire squad in the process occurred constantly, making them appear in most people's eyes as nothing more than a bunch of walking unstable explosive runes.
Especially low-tier evil mages.
Evil mages who survived to reach high tier had mostly figured out relatively reliable casting methods. Those the empire was truly willing to accept and cooperate with were usually this batch.
And Varen clearly didn't belong to the high-tier evil mage category.
Just last week, he'd spent almost all his savings to purchase seven sturdy slaves from a black market merchant, dragging them back to his secret laboratory.
He'd been full of confidence, preparing to perform a ritual he'd deciphered from some fragmented ancient text—supposedly capable of summoning and controlling some kind of evil entity.
The result... was a complete and utter disaster!
The ritual energy spiraled completely out of control at the final moment, backfiring catastrophically. Those seven slaves didn't even manage to let out complete screams before they exploded.
The laboratory still reeked of that lingering bloody stench. Cleaning up those scattered remains nearly made him vomit.
Not only were the experimental materials a total loss, he didn't even have money left to purchase new "consumables."
Creditors had already started knocking on his door. He knew if he couldn't get money soon, his fate would be no better than those slaves.
At this desperate juncture, he saw the duke's recruitment order.
Work for the duke!
This meant stable funding, sufficient precious materials, and—most importantly—protection!
Danger?
Varen scoffed. Could it be worse than now?
Dying on the duke's mission might even be better than getting caught by loan sharks and turned into a slave.
As for the duke actively setting him up—he didn't even consider it!
Even in the empire's dog-eat-dog environment, a major figure's public reputation was still a weighty intangible asset.
A noble duke surely wouldn't sacrifice his reputation just to deceive insignificant low-tier evil mages like them who couldn't be squeezed for two ounces of oil, right?
What he worried about more was competition!
The announcement said no limit on numbers, but anyone with half a brain knew the duke couldn't possibly support a huge group of failures like him.
Those who could ultimately stay would probably only be the most excellent or most fortunate one or two.
Looking at those around him who had come to sign up with the same hope, he saw the same wariness and calculation in their eyes.
No matter what, this was already his last chance. He would definitely seize it!
(End of Chapter)
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