Allen turned and left. The sound of his footsteps echoed on the second floor of the workshop, gradually fading into the distance.
Behind him, Draven Craig remained frozen in place. The purple glow from his Energy Shield cast shifting, erratic shadows across his pale face.
"That kid... who in the hell is he?"
Draven muttered to himself, his voice hoarse.
He didn't begin to slowly recover from the shock of being so completely seen through until the main door on the first floor of the workshop closed behind him, shutting out the light and sound from outside.
'What just happened?'
He, Draven Craig, an Advanced Apprentice of the Alchemy school and a future Official Wizard, had just had all his pride and confidence shattered by a new student who'd only been enrolled for two months—and with just a few sentences.
He looked down at the newly signed Magic Contract on the lab bench.
On the parchment, two names glowed with a faint Magic Power, binding them together in an entirely new way.
He recalled the hand Allen had extended—steady, strong, and completely devoid of emotion. And those deep blue eyes, so calm they sent a chill down his spine.
He was supposed to be the Hunter, setting a trap to capture a valuable piece of prey.
But in the end, not only had he failed to snare his target, he had been analyzed and dissected in return. He'd even been led by the nose into willingly signing an agreement that turned him from the one in charge into a partner.
"Damn it!" Draven slammed his fist on the metal tabletop, producing a heavy, muffled THUD.
But his anger burned for only a moment before flickering out, replaced by a sense of powerless exhaustion.
He had to admit, Allen was right.
Every single word had struck a nerve. His research on the Soul Harmonization Potion, into which he had poured countless hours and a fortune, had long since hit a bottleneck.
Without exception, his test subjects experienced severe Spiritual Power backlash and model collapse after a brief period of Magic Power resonance. This was the exact consequence of what Allen had called "drinking poison to quench his thirst."
He had been throwing more and more money at the problem to cover up the fundamental flaw in his research, hoping for some kind of miracle.
Allen was that unexpected "miracle." Except, he hadn't come to prove Draven right. He'd come to deliver a death sentence—and hand him a survival guide.
"An individualized Spiritual Power model optimization plan..."
Draven mulled over the phrase, a flicker of conflict in his eyes. The future Allen had described was simply too tempting to resist.
'If they could really provide customized support plans for every apprentice, and even for Official Wizards… that wouldn't just be a small business selling a few potions. It would be a massive industry that touched upon the very essence of a Wizard's power. It could bring him the funding he needed and allow him to continue his research.'
"I'll just... have to take the gamble." Draven sat down wearily and carefully put the agreement away.
All he could do now was pray that Allen Wesren truly possessed the abilities he claimed. Otherwise, he hadn't just lost his dignity today—he had gambled away his entire future.
The day after the contract was signed, an announcement was posted within Allen's "Basic Rune Mutual Aid Group": The group would be expanding, increasing its membership from twenty to fifty people.
At the same time, its services were being upgraded. In addition to the weekly group tutoring and specialized Q&A sessions, all members would receive a "preliminary personal Spiritual Power model diagnosis" led by Allen Wesren himself.
They would also have the opportunity to purchase "customized support potions" from the Advanced Apprentice Draven Craig at a discount.
When this announcement leaked, it sent shockwaves through the new student body.
Who was Draven Craig?
He was an Advanced Apprentice just one step away from becoming an Official Wizard, the master of an H District Alchemy Workshop. The potions he sold were notoriously expensive and effective.
And now, Allen Wesren's study group had somehow formed a partnership with him?
The new students who had previously hesitated because of the fifteen-Magic-Stone monthly fee, or who hadn't been selected by Allen, could no longer hold back.
Draven's name was a powerful endorsement.
This meant that joining Allen's group not only offered personal guidance from the "genius" himself but also access to the resources of a top Advanced Apprentice.
The value for the price was simply off the charts.
Less than half an hour after the announcement was posted, Allen's personal terminal had received over a hundred applications to join the group.
Allen leaned back in his dorm chair, watching as DSeek generated analysis reports and suggestion tags for each applicant.
Like a meticulous chess master, he selected the pieces from the seemingly jumbled pile that best fit his strategic arrangement.
He prioritized his selections: "patrons" with high spending potential who could provide cash flow for Draven's potion business; "specimens" with classic problems who could be used as promotional success stories; and "nodes" with a certain degree of influence who could spread word-of-mouth among the new students.
In the end, the thirty new spots were quickly filled.
When the acceptance list was published, the laments of the rejected and the cheers of the chosen echoed from every corner of the new student dorms.
Overnight, Allen's "Learning Mutual Aid Group" transformed from a small, elite circle into an influential fifty-person organization among the new students.
Meanwhile, the few imitators that had popped up around the academy instantly felt an overwhelming pressure bearing down on them.
Their groups had three to five members at most, charged five to ten Magic Stones, and offered vague, unclear guidance.
Faced with the "regular army" formed by Allen and Draven's partnership, these "guerrilla squads" stood no chance. Within a few days, they had all faded into obscurity, and the market was completely swept clean.
Kael, a peddler of study notes, stared at his latest sales report, his expression thunderous.
His study note sales had plummeted by seventy percent this month.
The new students no longer needed outdated knowledge; they craved the kind of personalized, immediately effective guidance that Allen offered.
"That idiot Draven! How could he partner with a new student!"
Kael cursed under his breath. He had assumed Draven would see Allen as a competitor and crush him, just as he would have. He never expected the man to join the enemy instead.
"Boss, what do we do? Allen Wesren is flying Draven's banner now. We can't touch him," a companion said worriedly from the side. "And I heard their new partnership model is a huge success. Draven's workshop has been hiring recently. A few apprentices who work part-time in the Alchemy Workshop Zone said that Workshop No. 17 has more orders than they can handle."
Kael didn't speak, merely staring out the window in the direction of Public Practice Room A-7.
Twice a week, fifty apprentices would gather there.
They were no longer in their previous state of confusion and helplessness. Instead, under Allen's guidance, they were methodically practicing various force-field shaping and Rune construction exercises.
The aura of collective progress emanating from them sent a tremor of unease through him.