Chapter 200: How Could I Not? Let Big Brother Give You a Check-Up
Duodenal Butterfly Knot Spell.
Oral Ulcer and Wisdom Tooth Proliferation Spell.
Physiological Tides: Incontinence Torrent Spell.
"Three spell slots filled. Gotta find a chance to level up."
Allen was quite satisfied with the innovative magic he'd just comprehended.
The first spell, Duodenal Butterfly Knot, was akin to a binding spell—it tied the target's small intestine into a bow. Just taking one step would make it feel like their guts were being yanked, effectively rooting them to the spot.
The second, Oral Ulcer and Wisdom Tooth Proliferation, functioned as a silencing spell. With a mouth full of ulcers and inflamed sores, even a light lick of the tongue would trigger a sour sting, not to mention the agony of wisdom teeth bursting through the gums. No way the target would be able to say a single word—let alone chant a full spell.
The third, Physiological Tides: Incontinence Torrent, was more of a mental-damage spell, aimed at preventing the enemy from silently casting spells.
Naturally, it worked best on female targets.
"What a pity… If only I had mastered the Kunkun Expansion Spell earlier. I could've paired it with the Incontinence Torrent—cause the target's balls to explode on the spot. Heh heh heh..."
"Mmmrph..."
While Allen cackled over his sinister spell combos, the Hellhound let out a choked whimper.
If it weren't for the fact that it was a high-grade magical beast, the way Allen had treated it would've killed any normal creature ten times over. Thankfully, its vitality was freakishly tough—it still clung to a sliver of life.
"Hang in there, buddy. I'm a Priest—I have healing spells."
"Shame Ray of Failure!"
A radiant light of healing shot from Allen's palm, bathing the near-dead Hellhound.
"Awoo—!"
A second later, it let out an even more agonized scream as searing white flames engulfed its body.
"Ah! Oops, my bad!"
Allen winced. "I forgot—Priest skills damage dark-type creatures."
The dog writhed in the blaze, howling like it was being roasted alive in hellfire. Allen quickly threw a blanket over it to smother the flames. When he pulled it off again, the Hellhound was scorched pitch black and silently smoking—completely mute from the pain.
"You can't die on me yet. I'm counting on you to help me research more spells," Allen said anxiously.
The Hellhound wheezed, breathing more out than in. It barely lifted its eyelids to look at Allen, as if it were seeing its great-grandmother being dragged into hell by a three-headed dragon.
If a summoned creature died, the summoner would also suffer mental backlash. Allen wasn't into self-harm.
He immediately pulled out needle and thread, and began stitching the wounds closed. After that, he left the bedroom and headed to the herb room to brew a few bottles of healing potion.
While he was out, three female mages slipped into the room to snoop around.
When they saw the Hellhound—charred black on the outside, tender and blistered on the inside—they were utterly stunned.
"This guy's a complete psycho… He tortured a dog to this extent?"
"He's inhuman. He must have a terrifyingly dark mind."
"I kinda wanna run back home... What if one day we end up dismembered like that?"
"…"
One after another, the three women started spiraling into panic.
Women are emotional creatures—easily slipping into their imaginations and jumping to the worst conclusions.
"You actually saw my latest masterpiece."
A voice rang out, low and cold like it came from the depths of the abyss.
All three women flinched simultaneously, trembling as they turned around—only to find Allen blocking the door, his head tilted down with a slow, deliberate smile.
Eek—
He's definitely a deranged killer!
All three arrived at the same horrifying conclusion.
"What a shame. I was planning to surprise you."
Allen's smile stretched almost to his ears.
Surprise? More like a heart attack!
He totally plans to torture us to death!
In their minds, the scene began to unfold:
On a moonlit night, a madman holding a butcher knife stalked a group of helpless young girls. Blood spattered across the walls. Shattered limbs littered the floor. Harrowing screams pierced the sky.
At that moment, Allen took a step forward.
"Don't come any closer!"
The three women backed away in fear.
"Relax. I'm just grabbing something." Allen's tone was calm and steady.
That's how all killers act right before they strike!
The chill ran down their spines. The girls trembled like quail.
Allen took another step forward. The women scurried around the table, one of them stammering, "C-Calm down! We—we have no feud with you! We're just passing by!"
"I am calm. I've been calm this whole time."
As he spoke, Allen picked up a butcher knife from the table and held it up.
"Wanna try out my latest creation? I guarantee it'll leave you begging for more."
"HELP! MURDER!"
"I don't wanna die! Somebody save me!"
"Wait for me! Don't leave me behind—waaahhh...!"
The three of them cracked. Just as they reached the doorway, they tore the door open and sprinted out, screaming and sobbing as they ran.
Allen stood there, utterly baffled.
"What's wrong with them? I just wanted to show off my new spell combo. Was that really such a big deal?"
Looking genuinely innocent, Allen blinked, then muttered, "Huh… maybe they're the ones with a few screws loose."
"So young, so pretty, but their brains are messed up. What a shame."
Of course, Allen would never admit that he was the crazy one. He considered himself merely "spiritually unwell." Totally different concept.
As for the knife?
It was borrowed from the kitchen. He just needed to return it—how else were the chefs supposed to cook?
The dramatic flight of the three women naturally caught the attention of the others.
"They're really committing to the act."
"Trying to scare people off again, huh?"
"Their clan's always been scheming. If I didn't know better, I might've actually believed them."
"…"
Being born into noble families, these women were all well aware of the potential of natural-born mages. Even if they had no personal feelings involved, the benefits alone were enough to consider them as leverage for clan power struggles—even potential heirs.
Allen returned the knife and fed the Hellhound some healing potions. Before long, the medicine kicked in. Bandaged from head to toe, the dog suddenly sprang to life and began tearing up the bed sheets with wild energy.
From its behavior—and its defiant, glinting eyes—there was no doubt. This was a classic Hellhound with the soul of a purebred husky.
Only its head remained uncovered. The rest of it was wrapped in bandages like a canine mummy.
Night fell.
Knock knock knock...
A knock came at the door.
"Come in."
Allen set down his spellbook, puzzled. Who would visit him this late? He wasn't exactly close with the other female mages—showing up at night was rather bold.
The door opened to reveal a delicate and lovely girl, her figure perfectly accentuated by the tight-fitting mage's robe.
"Big Brother Allen, I'm Senahi Spencer. I transferred to Silent Castle yesterday. I just wanted to pay a visit—I hope I'm not being rude."
She walked gracefully into the room and sat by the bed with elegant poise.
"How could it be rude? Senahi, you've grown so much. Let Big Brother give you a check-up, heh heh heh…"