Chapter 46: “So What Should We Do?”

Life in the Underground Laboratory was quite boring, but the Wizard Apprentice Dormitory in the Wizard Tower was about the same. An Luo had already gotten used to it.

Aside from that first Knight Novel on the first day, Meieruita pulled out a few more dusty copies from other drawers today and gave them to An Luo.

They were all hardcover editions.

…It seemed the previous owner of this Underground Laboratory had been a “Knight Novel” enthusiast.

An Luo didn’t know who the previous owner of this Underground Laboratory was, since he hadn’t written it.

But in this world, even the details An Luo had omitted were filled in perfectly. This person, who never appeared in the original story, had left behind traces unique to him in the Underground Laboratory.

An Luo blew the dust off the book covers and wiped the surfaces clean.

Everything in this Underground Laboratory was sized for one person—whether the tables and chairs or the bed. Clearly, neither the previous owner nor the current Meieruita had any intention of bringing anyone else here.

And in the original story An Luo wrote, that was indeed the case.

Before killing the Wizard of this Wizard Tower, this Underground Laboratory had been Meieruita’s exclusive secret space. Later, for the sake of his experiments, Meieruita had even expanded the interior space a bit.

Of course the tables and chairs belonged to Meieruita. An Luo thought that was normal—after all, the protagonist was studying.

Whether on Earth or in this wizard world, studying was always an important and serious matter.

An Luo could only sit on the bed to read.

However, given the protagonist’s disdain for others, there was a high chance that once this was over, Meieruita would wash all the bedding from upstairs.

He looked up. The sounds from the Thorn Beasts overhead had quieted a bit.

If nothing unexpected happened, they would all disperse in at most another two days.

An Luo still couldn’t figure it out. Who had he offended? Why did every creature in this world seem to harbor such intense malice toward him?

Was it because they sensed the otherworldly aura on him and felt repelled?

After thinking it over, An Luo figured that was probably the reason.

He regretted writing that setting about souls influencing bodies.

Sigh.

“An Luo?”

Suddenly, Meieruita called his name.

“What’s up?” An Luo looked up.

Meieruita held a glass vial in his hand. “I’ve found a way to lift the Curse on you.”

An Luo: “…Huh?”

For a moment, he suspected something was wrong with his ears.

An Luo never doubted Meieruita’s abilities. He knew what he had written—the data he gave Meieruita was ridiculously overpowered.

That was a big reason his story had flopped.

The protagonist’s stats were already absurdly strong, and even when he hit setbacks, An Luo couldn’t bear to torment his own protagonist too much, so he glossed over them.

No building tension meant no satisfying payoff later.

An Luo’s approach resulted in a plot with zero ups and downs, flat emotions overall. It started off fine, but got boring fast—just the protagonist winning nonstop with nothing compelling to watch. Readers bailed one by one…

In short, as long as Meieruita put his mind to it, this Curse on An Luo was no challenge at all.

But the problem was right there.

Why would the protagonist—or rather, what right did he have—to research this for An Luo’s sake?

He didn’t even have enough time to study his own Witchcraft.

There had to be a catch.

An Luo: I’ve achieved a 0.1-second record in the “Guess Meieruita’s True Intentions from His ‘Kind Help'” challenge—come try it yourself!

He pretended not to notice anything and walked over.

“I need some of your blood to test if this method works.”

Meieruita produced a sterilized silver needle and gestured for An Luo to extend his hand.

An Luo: “…”

This was bad!

As the author, he didn’t hesitate to assume the worst of Meieruita.

He recalled Meieruita’s earlier words about wanting An Luo to cooperate with his experiments to figure out why An Luo provoked such hatred from the Magic Plants and Magic Beasts.

But now, another setting came to mind.

Blood was the best medium for casting Curses. With An Luo’s blood in hand, Meieruita could slap any Curse on him and make him die horribly.

His hesitation was too obvious. Meieruita glanced down at it, then firmly grasped An Luo’s dangling right hand without allowing refusal. “It won’t hurt much.”

An Luo: Big bro, this isn’t about pain—it’s life or death!

—Of course, less pain would still be better.

He wasn’t sure if Meieruita had seen through his thoughts, but An Luo leaned toward yes, though he hadn’t called him out on it.

” It won’t hurt much” was just a polite facade.

With tacit understanding, An Luo played along. “But I’m really scared of needles… Every checkup, they always hurt a lot.”

“Is that so?” The needle tip in Meieruita’s hand gleamed coldly, sharp as could be. “So what should we do?”

He said flatly, “How about I take it while you’re asleep? You won’t feel a thing before it’s done.”

An Luo: “…No need, no need. Let’s just do it now.”

He felt like this was Meieruita’s threat.

If you won’t let me now, I can still get it when you’re asleep.

Meieruita’s hand was much larger than An Luo’s. An Luo instinctively curled his fingers, but Meieruita effortlessly gripped the base of his fingers, straightened his hand, and jabbed the needle down—quick and ruthless.

A sharp but not unbearable sting.

A crimson bead of blood swelled on An Luo’s fingertip, trembling lightly.

Meieruita squeezed gently, then collected the blood in a small empty glass test tube.

He placed the tube on the rack on the desk. An Luo tried to pull his hand back, but Meieruita didn’t let go. Puzzled, An Luo looked at him.

Meieruita’s gray-green eyes met his, then he lowered his head and took the wounded spot into his mouth.

The warm, wet mouth and the tongue lapping at the wound—this sudden sensation made An Luo’s scalp tingle, fireworks exploding in his brain.

He stared at Meieruita in disbelief, frozen solid.

After a moment, Meieruita released his hand, looked up, and wiped the wound clean. “I just suddenly wanted to taste what the Creator’s blood is like.”

An Luo got it.

In his settings, after gaining poison resistance, Meieruita often tasted materials to gauge their properties and effects.

Fearless of poison, he casually “sampled a hundred herbs.”

And as the Creator, An Luo obviously looked like prime material. Meieruita probably wanted to check first if he was “treasure from head to toe.”

An Luo, tense: “…So, did you taste anything?”

Please don’t say my blood has special effects! I don’t want to be a blood bag!

“No practical effects,” Meieruita said. “Just blood.”

An Luo breathed a sigh of relief.

Good!

I must be the most ordinary person possible!

Meieruita turned back to the desk, drew the blood with a syringe, performed a series of intricate steps, and finally produced a vial of mixed agent.

There were still a few frogs in the nearby experimental cage. Meieruita donned gloves and grabbed one.

He explained, “I’ve found the way to lift the Curse, but I don’t know about side effects yet. Need to test first.”

Meieruita secured the frog and focused, injecting the freshly made agent.

An Luo watched from the side, starting with curiosity and wariness, but gradually mesmerized by Meieruita’s fluid, masterful movements.

After half a minute, a black flower mark identical to the one on An Luo’s hand slowly appeared on the unlucky frog’s back.

Then, Meieruita fed it some purple potion.

The black flower mark on the frog vanished.

But at the same time, the frog showed some abnormalities.

Meieruita observed for a bit, checked it over, and concluded, “For now, the Curse-lifting agent has the side effect of making the creature feel cold.”

“But needs ongoing observation to see if the cold is lethal.”

Meieruita put the frog in a separate small cage. “Still need to watch how long the side effect lasts.”

An Luo gazed at Meieruita admiringly for a moment, feeling that rush again—like seeing the top science score on the red list.

The only difference was that this time, the genius was his own protagonist.

So besides admiration and shock, there was pride and fondness.

But soon, survival instinct snapped him back.

An Luo came to his senses and asked cautiously, “Meieruita, I have a question.”

Meieruita removed his gloves. “What?”

An Luo paused. “Why are you helping me research this Curse?”

He glanced at Meieruita’s expression and quickly added, “I mean, you’ve already temporarily controlled it, right? It’s not urgent. Shouldn’t you focus on your own Witchcraft first?”

“I remember you said you were going to refine the Fireball Spell again—that should take a lot of time, yeah?”

Meieruita looked up, staring fixedly at An Luo. An Luo squirmed uncomfortably and was about to speak when the other man looked away, saying flatly, “It will take a lot of time.”

Then he stopped there, without answering An Luo’s earlier question. He sat in the chair, no longer looking at An Luo, flipped open a book, picked up a pen, and the scratch of nib on paper resumed.

An Luo stood there a bit, realized he couldn’t understand what Meieruita was writing, and the attitude was silently telling him to leave. He could only slink away dejectedly.

He sat back on the bed, idly flipping open a Knight Novel, but his eyes weren’t on the pages at all.

An Luo could feel that Meieruita was angry, but why?

Because of his question?

Wasn’t that normal?

Normally, Meieruita would brush it off with some excuse, not get mad.

Meieruita knew emotional fluctuations were pointless anyway.

So, was this an act?

An Luo should have immediately pegged it as Meieruita’s performance, but he hesitated.

In his uncertainty, his gaze accidentally fell on the open Knight Novel in his hand.

The left page featured a black-and-white illustration with quite explosive content.

He slammed the book shut with a “bang.”

“What is it?” Meieruita asked, without turning around.

An Luo: “Nothing, nothing…”