A strange world

What Annan was thinking was that not long after, he had mastered the common language, had saved enough money, had an amazing test result, and had the potential to practice both magic and martial arts. Beautiful tutors, top-notch mythical beasts, divine gods, and wealth and status would follow one after another.

But even when he was able to talk to Victor about the beauty of poetry, the beauty of collected works, and discuss philosophy and history all night long, the money he saved was not enough to test his qualifications.

The gray-robed mage described it as "a mage spends money like running water." Annan hasn't even opened the door yet.

Besides the library and the tavern, Annan had to find other things to do.

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, Annan got up and started a new day.

Went to the library on a Sunday, which was much noisier than usual. I still cleaned the dust, and then chose a biographical novel about a magician as the protagonist.

The birch wood bookmark he bought for 1 copper coin is still sandwiched on page 12 of "Rekaner Geography", but at this moment Annan urgently needs something of interest to offset the gradual decline in interest due to boring knowledge.

Soon, Annan was immersed in biographical novels without much rhetorical polish, following the childhood footsteps of the legendary mage. When he raised his head again, the minute hand of the clock had dropped to half past.

Mr. Victor didn't come.

Annan thought about how to make fun of Victor for a while and continued reading. When he raised his head again, it was already more than ten minutes later. Mr. Victor still hasn't come.

This is simply unbelievable to an old man who is punctual and orderly.

Annan stopped sitting still, tore off a page of notebook paper, crookedly wrote "Business suspension, find Victor" and stuck it on the door.

Just as he closed the library door, a shadow overlapped. She is the wine lady's niece.

"Mr. Victor hasn't come yet. Do you know where he has gone?"

"I don't know." The lead-grey eyes of the girl in the robe that showed color in the sunlight glanced at the note on the door and returned to Annan, "But I know where he lives."

"take me."

Fortunately, the cheap niece did not shirk and led Annan to Victor's residence.

At the same time, Annan was observing the only way to avoid missing him lying on the roadside. For example, the weird old man got his head smashed by a bad boy, or his foot slipped in the gutter.

Arriving at a single-family mansion on a wealthy street, nicknamed "Guard Street" by the townspeople, "Little Winchet" indicated that this is where it was.

Annan stepped forward and knocked on the door, and soon there were familiar footsteps behind the door.

Click——

Mr. Victor's always serious face appeared behind the door.

"Didn't you go to the library?" Annan put down his worries.

"Because the library is closed today."

"You didn't tell me." Annan had no idea that there was a day off.

"Didn't I say that?"

"No."

"I'm saying it now."

As if an illusion, Annan seemed to feel a touch of cunningness from his slightly cloudy eyes. He could not say anything, he could only say "I wish you a good day" to bid farewell and leave, and then looked at him suspiciously as if he had known this for a long time. Little Winchet.

"Did you know that the library would be closed today?"

"You didn't tell me or my aunt either."

"We..." Annan swallowed back the "nothing", what if there really is something...

Regardless, it's nice to have a day off without the same salary.

Annan and Little Winchet, who was still following him, returned to the library. He pulled off the note on the door, checked the windows and the basement door, and said to Little Winchet, who was still in the library, "I'm going to close the door."

After watching the silent little Winchet leave, Annan returned to Aunt Susan's house.

"Aunt Susan, I'm going to go out to visit a friend."

"Our little Annan has also started to have friends." Aunt Susan, who was drying clothes, was about to call Martin, who was still sleeping, but Annan stopped her.

Carrying some copper coins, he asked Aunt Susan to help smear some dust on his face.

"Are you coming back for dinner?"

"return."

Waving his hand, Annan walked out of the yard, left Pinglin Town, and then followed the winding road to the hills of the haunted gold mine.

Even after the bloody incident a week ago, the Haunted Gold Mine remains open and even more bustling - after the attack they unexpectedly found a nearly depleted vein - and even so can yield hundreds of benefits.

After asking, he learned that Tasia was still here, and Annan walked towards the woods with peace of mind. He sat under the grass-free roots of Tasia's usual seat and waited.

The spots of light shining through the canopy moved slowly, and as noon arrived, the miners began to walk out of the haunted gold mine.

Tasia, who is nearly two meters tall, stands out among them.

But as she approached, Annan frowned.

"You are hurt?"

The steps of Tasia's left leg were short and awkward. Annan asked her to stand still and squatted in front of her dirt-covered legs, lifting the shackles.

The thick ankle showed a circle of eroded wounds.

Annan, who smelled the rot, said: "Your wound is rotten...wait for me here."

Annan ran to the shack, quickly brought a bowl of water, tore off the corner of his clothes, wetted the wound and wiped it, then bandaged it.

Tasia lowered her head and watched quietly as he performed the despicable work that only a servant would do to her alien slave.

"Huh...alright."

Annan tightened the bandage and stood up wiping the sweat from his forehead: "Don't let the shackles touch the wound. Keep it ventilated and exposed to the sun. It's best to find a way to unlock the shackles."

"Why do you want to help me?" the quiet Tasia asked. The dull sound is neither crisp nor pleasant.

"You're my first friend here."

As for Aunt Susan's family...they were family.

Annan sat back under the tree roots and patted the side. After some hesitation, Tasia sat next to him and listened to Annan's account of what happened after he left the haunted gold mine.

"...Now, I work in a tavern and a library to save money...What about you?"

It's Tasia's turn: she says her foreman died under a kobold warlock's fireball, but the slave contract is still there and she was sold to another foreman for 70 silver coins.

"You need money?"

Tasia put her hand into her pocket, and there were about a dozen copper coins lying in her muddy palm.

"I ripped it off the corpse."

"...No need for the time being." Annan shook his head, stood up and said, "I'm going back, and I will find a way to buy you."

That evening, Annan came to the tavern and found that the gray-robed mage Michael was also there.

"Look at your condition." Michael greeted him.

But Annan's focus today is not on him. Run and ask the bard for the world's most popular story.

"Very... popular," the bard said.

This was verified by Annan in the library the next day.

These literary works lack twists and turns and dangers, and the content of best-selling works is also lackluster. What was written hundreds of years ago will be written hundreds of years later.

Thinking of the qualification test and Tasia's injury, Annan thought that he might be able to write a book to get out of the predicament.

Then show it to the bard for appreciation.

As a bard who sells songs and stories, he knows which stories are the most popular.