Chapter 230

Chapter 230

"Be careful!"

A shout rang out, causing magicians to dodge and shuffle. Garrett had just squeezed past two people and was making his way to the innermost end of the long table, where a seat had been reserved for him. Seeing the mishap, he instinctively paused, reflexively leaning inward to avoid the impending disaster.

The problem was, there wasn’t much space to dodge. The long table by the window, which normally seated only ten people, now had fourteen magicians crowded around it. Leaving room for the server to deliver dishes, they were packed shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg, like falling dominoes.

Then, Garrett saw a brimming basin of shellfish soup cascade down onto Chris’s head at the far end of the table.

The soup was thick, so thick that it barely emitted any steam when served. It was only when the soup poured down, with steam rising from the fish and shells, that it blurred the face of the server.

Through the steam, Garrett saw the wide-eyed server suddenly light up. His gaze was fixed forward, not attempting to save the spilled soup or even looking at Chris, who was about to be drenched, but staring directly at—himself!

In an instant, a chill ran down Garrett’s spine, and he instinctively took a step back. Feeling a slight pain in his back as it hit the wall, his attention was momentarily distracted. When he looked up again, several incantations were simultaneously bursting out at the innermost end of the long table:

"Mage Armor!"

"Shield spell!"

"Shield spell!"

"Levitation Disk!"

Transparent, translucent layers of magical energy surged up, forming a solid shield around Chris, who had crossed his arms over his head.

Garrett stood rooted to the spot, gaping in astonishment. The magicians who cast the protective spells were one thing, but whoever cast the levitation disk, well, their creativity was truly remarkable... Why was the levitation disk tilted like that?!

Thus, these protective measures successfully shielded Chris from harm. The spilled soup, shells, and fish meat all poured down onto the server...

"Quick, get out of the way!"

Garrett reflexively shouted. The server, upon hearing the shout, froze for a moment, then tried to dodge. But as he moved to the side, his legs went weak, and he couldn’t step away in time. The basin of shellfish soup came crashing down onto his legs.

"Ah—"

The server cried out in pain, gritting his teeth and crouching to the ground. Garrett hesitated for a moment, then squeezed back in the opposite direction, shouting as he went:

"Quick, get some water! Cold water! Rinse off everything on your body! Let me see, how bad is the injury?"

"..." The server glanced up at him. Then, Garrett saw the server, with a leg covered in soup, hobble away like a wounded rabbit, limping away. In that fleeting glance, his face still wore the same dumbfounded expression, neither flushing nor paling, not a drop of sweat even on his forehead.

Garrett: "..." Strange, was this guy wearing a human skin mask, or did he apply too much makeup? He didn’t seem like someone who had suffered burns in the past; his facial pores weren’t ruined, right? But it didn’t look like it at all!

Lost in these thoughts for a moment, the server had already clattered away on the wooden floorboards. Garrett shrugged, then squeezed his way back. The emergency room was filled with patients who didn’t want treatment; as long as it wasn’t life-threatening, doctors wouldn’t insist too much.

After all, hospitals weren’t law enforcement agencies, and they couldn’t detain people for treatment...

Later on, he wasn’t interested in other desserts, but whenever he saw egg tarts, he just couldn’t resist.

Even though he knew they were excessively high in sugar and fat.

"What does this gentleman mean by egg

tarts? What kind of dessert is that?" In a moment of distraction, the boss had already approached him, smiling and inquiring politely: "Please tell me in detail, and when the shop succeeds in making it, I’ll invite you to taste it!"

"Never mind..." Garrett shook his head. He knew nothing about making desserts, and even if he did explain, it would probably be tens of thousands of miles away from successful production. Why make a small shop spend so much cost? Besides, even if it succeeded, it wouldn’t taste the same as it did when he was a child.

However, the boss, still bending at the waist and unwilling to leave, kept pestering him with a smile, asking:

"How should I address you, sir? Where do you live? When the shop successfully produces it, I’ll deliver it to your door for you to taste—"

"Ah, no need!" Garrett waved his hand repeatedly. Beside him, a classmate with a quick mouth answered for him:

"He’s called Garrett Nordmark..."

This dinner lasted until late into the night. The students each returned to their lodgings, some living far away or simply lazy—like those living on the mountain peak, and Garrett, who decided to enjoy the accommodation provided by the magic academy.

And as they left, the boss quickly went downstairs, finding the server who had been drenched earlier:

"I’ve found out his name, Garrett Nordmark. I’ll continue to investigate tomorrow. How are you? Is the burn serious?"

The server looked up from under the lamp. He still had that dumbfounded expression, but his eyes flashed with cold light, and he tightly gripped his thigh with his right hand:

"Okay. Hiss..."

"Your injury looks very serious!"

The boss frowned.

Under the dim light, the server’s leg, from thigh to calf, had a burned area the size of three palms, with shiny blisters connecting into one. Near the side of his thigh, closer to his knee, there was even a deep black area, almost revealing the bone.

If it were on an ordinary person, this wound would fester, causing fever, and after half a month of suffering, they might recover safely. This server was a professional, and a mere burn might not knock him down, but, coupled with that deep black wound...

"Well, it’s quite serious indeed." Being seen by someone, the server no longer acted tough, gasping for breath with each short intake. His thumb turned white as he pinched his thigh, finally looking up to ask:

"Do you have any medicine left?"

"... This is the last bottle of Holy Water." After hesitating for a moment, the boss took out a small glass bottle and handed it over with trembling hands:

"The sea has been heavily patrolled recently, and I don’t know when the next supply will come. Well, when are you going to act? After this is done, can you take me back with you?"

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