Chapter 268

Chapter 268

Three o’clock in the morning.

Twenty necromancers were staggering.

Most of them had finished flipping through the records in their hands and were now lying on the table, heads buried in their arms. The remaining two poor souls were struggling to keep their eyes open, flipping pages in rhythm with the flashing blue light, page by page, page by page...

Garrett was about to fall asleep too.

Bless the heavens, ever since he crossed over, he had almost stopped staying up late. Spellcasters needed adequate sleep! Otherwise, there would be no magic or spells tomorrow! Even in the wild, unless absolutely necessary, only fools let spellcasters stay up late!

Over the past year, his ability to stay up late, trained in the emergency room, had almost deteriorated...

"We’re done flipping!"

"Last page!"

Even the shouts of completion sounded weak. Garrett regained his senses, struggled to lift himself off the table, and raised his voice:

"Thank you all for your hard work! On the seventh floor of the Thunder Tower, I have arranged rooms for everyone. You can take this opportunity to get some sleep! I will express my gratitude to Archmage Edgar—"

The necromancer apprentices stumbled out one by one. Garrett seized the last hour, spread out the forms on the table, and made requests to the tower spirit:

"Mr. Gregory! Regardless of the year, the number and percentage of deaths in each age group!"

A blue light fell. Then, the ink in the bottle rose automatically, filling in the numbers on the forms line by line.

"Specifically, the number and percentage of deaths in each age group, each gender!"

"The number and percentage of deaths for each cause!"

"The percentage of each cause by gender!"

"The average lifespan of each income group!"

Garrett racked his brains and exhausted his tongue. He had the tower spirit calculate every possible statistical method—not to mention doing it for nothing. Even after copying the numbers, he had to do the calculations himself later. Besides, there were no calculators available in this otherworldly realm...

A thick stack of forms was filled out, and the clock in the calculation chamber pointed to 3:55 a.m. Garrett put away the forms and left the calculation chamber. The hall was empty, and the old wizards on the night shift were already asleep with their heads on the table, snoring loudly.

In the corridors, in the elevators, there was no one. Except for invisible servants sweeping the floor with brooms, the entire Thunder Tower seemed to be asleep.

For some reason, Garrett suddenly had a question in his mind:

Have you ever seen the Mage Tower at four in the morning?

Now, I can finally say that I have.

Not only have I seen the Mage Tower, but I have also seen, at four in the morning, the city of Nevis—

Garrett walked to the edge of the mountain, looking down. At four in the morning, the whole city was still asleep, shrouded in darkness. However, even in the dark foothills, there were scattered lights twinkling.

Garrett watched intently.

Some lights were far away by the sea, perhaps fishermen sorting sails and nets, preparing to go fishing when dawn broke?

Some lights were in the southeast corner of the city. When he studied the map, he remembered that many workshops were gathered there. Were they preparing to start work before dawn?

And there were lights moving on the streets of the city or moving from outside the city. What were they doing? Bringing vegetables, meat, milk, and clean drinking water to the city? Or removing the waste accumulated by the city last night?

Spellcasters have the right to sleep soundly in the deep night, but in this city, in this world, many people do not have it—

By this time, they had crossed the city’s midpoint. Nevis City was a seaside city, naturally growing into a U-shape along the bay. Crossing to the eastern side of the city meant entering the outskirts from the core area.

Walls lined the roadside, with houses inside towering high and large, far exceeding residential needs. Chimneys spewed out smoke of various colors—black, yellow, white, red—in abundance. When the wind blew, a sour, foul, and peculiar smell assaulted them instantly, covering them from head to toe.

Garrett quickly cast a bubble spell around himself: "What’s that smell?"

"It’s probably from the winery." Aurora shrugged. Given that her own family sold wine, she didn’t react as strongly as Garrett did. "Probably from dumping wine dregs—the winery is quite large, so it probably takes a while to dump them."

"Where do they dump them?"

Garrett inquired. He quickly shut his mouth: Two men emerged from a side door of the winery, bare-armed despite the cold winter, steam rising from their bodies. Together, they lifted a large wooden barrel and, with a forceful pull, poured its contents into the nearby river with a splash.

"They just dump them into the river?" Garrett couldn’t believe his eyes. Aurora shrugged again, "What else can they do?—Oh well, it doesn’t matter, it’ll just flow directly into the sea anyway..."

How can it not matter! This pollution is serious! Garrett was about to retort when another door across the river opened, and a barrel was swiftly tipped over, flooding the ground with deep blue water that flowed directly into the river. Before long, the gently flowing stream turned half indigo and half murky yellow, a bizarre and nauseating sight.

"That’s the dye house over there. You see, wine dregs are still considered mild..."

Garrett remained silent, urging his horse downstream. Along the river, he saw blood and entrails pouring from slaughterhouses, tanning agents from tanneries, and pig manure from pig farms... The further down they went, the more foul-smelling the river became, until various pollutants floated and sank, visible to the naked eye.

"So... where do they get their drinking water from?"

Aurora didn’t know how to answer. Garrett circled around but didn’t find any wells. Row upon row of three-story buildings lined the roadside, their structures flat and extremely cramped, with hands extended between buildings easily clasping each other. After looking up for a while, Garrett jumped off his horse, intending to go inside and inquire.

He had barely taken a few steps when there was a sudden splash. Aurora, quick-witted, immediately conjured a shield, deflecting most of the dirty water. However, the shield was only a plane, not all-encompassing, and the cuff of Garrett’s right leg and his shoe were instantly soaked.

"Oops—forgive me, my lord mage! Please forgive me, my lord mage!" The laundress who had splashed the water fell to her knees with a pale face. Garrett glanced at her, waved his hand, and intended to avoid the situation. Before he could lift his foot, a man rushed out from the door and kicked the laundress without a word:

"Old whore! Blinded by your eyes! How dare you offend the lord mage—"

He kicked and cursed, kicking several times in a row, causing the laundress to roll around on the ground in distress, not daring to flee. Garrett was startled for a moment, hesitated, and finally reacted:

"Stop!"

"My lord mage, you see this—"

"Don’t hit her." Garrett sighed and waved his hand. He didn’t even look at the man with the black face, bent slightly, and faced the laundress on the ground:

"You take me inside, help me wash my pants and shoes, and dry them—can you dry them here? This matter ends here. Don’t worry, you won’t have to compensate."

"Do you hear me! Hurry up and accompany the lord mage inside!" The man with the black face shouted again. The laundress looked up at him lying on the ground, then at Garrett, her face pale, and finally moved slowly, carrying the wooden basin inside.

Aurora’s face looked strange, wanting to speak but stopping herself, and in the end didn’t stop Garrett, letting him follow behind the peasant woman. Passing through a dark alleyway, bending over under the wet clothes and sheets hanging from the corridor, Garrett couldn’t help but urge:

"Are we there yet?"

With half of his leg soaked, each step made a "creak, creak" sound, making Garrett extremely uncomfortable. It didn’t matter if the place was small or the houses were cramped, as long as they could dry him quickly—

"We’re almost there, almost there! Lord mage, it’s just ahead!"

"Lord mage?"

A small head suddenly popped

out in front. The peasant woman’s voice suddenly rose in pitch, sounding panicked, almost breaking:

"Jennifer! Go back!!!"

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