High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 1237: Chapter 299: Korma’s Lab Assistant

Upon hearing Korma’s question, the gray-robed witch took small breaths and only after a while, gathered enough courage to speak again.

However, this time, her voice was much weaker, lacking the previous ease and naturalness, ”...I was wondering, would you like some Green Bee? You look a bit pale...”

Originally, she wanted to ask Korma where that dazzling silver hair was dyed and what the mysterious rune on his forehead meant. However, as the words reached her lips, she unconsciously switched to another question.

Korma’s eyelids drooped as he tried hard to restrain the slight traces of magic power emanating from his body. Although tricksters, due to their insensitivity to magic power, did not react uncomfortably in her presence like the school wizards, they too could feel the increasingly oppressive atmosphere in the hall. This was not the outcome Korma had hoped for.

The witch’s self-restraint quickly took effect.

The Speaker Flowers in the flowerpot were the first to respond, quietly opening their petals and softly humming again:

”...

Swayed by destiny,

A reckless counterstrike,

Until death do us part

...”

”Catherine, gather everyone,” the owner of Gini Cottage took a deep breath, his hair rising without wind, his eyes gaining a bit of firmness, ”I have an experiment that requires cooperation.”

Catherine was that gray-robed female trickster, also one of the few in Gini Cottage with the highest ’magic skills.’ When Korma was not at the club, she was responsible for the daily operations of Gini Cottage.

And cooperating with Korma on some ’gray experiments’ was an obligation these tricksters had to fulfill.

This was also an unwritten rule among the majority of similar clubs in North Beita Town. After all, knowledge is priceless, and even in charity, there is no concept of harming oneself to benefit others. However, compared to other clubs, the experiments Korma usually conducted were mild; rarely did people undergo human transformation, interspecies hybridization, soul dissection, or new magic human experiments of an extraordinary nature.

The gray-robed witch immediately perked up: ”Received!”

Soon, the young tricksters, who had been loosely seated in the hall, gathered together, forming a circle. Korma prepared the materials needed for the later experiment behind the bar, while Catherine hosted the ceremony.

”Following the owner of Gini Cottage’s request, we are now selecting the assistant for the seventy-ninth experiment,” the gray-robed woman, tying her hair in a slanted ponytail just like Korma’s, holding an old-looking Compass, walked to the center of the circle, surveying her surroundings with a stern voice:

”The old rule, the handle points to whom, it’s their turn... If anyone wants to opt out, it’s still not too late.”

The seated ones looked tense, a few girls even trembling slightly, but no one opted out.

Because opting out meant leaving Gini Cottage, meaning the loss of a chance to learn magic knowledge for free, a consequence they could not afford.

But everyone also knew the risks of participating in magic experiments. Even though the magic experiments in Gini Cottage were known in the North District to be mild and have low negative effects, it did not mean they were without risk. Just last month, a male trickster had fried his brain from participating in a magic experiment and ended up sent by his family to the Rustwater Alchemy Workshop to work as a bonded laborer—operated by fairies, entering meant trading the rest of one’s life for Copper Coins, and no one expected him to come out again, not even his family.

Korma knew these things.

She had always known.

But she did not stop them, nor did she intend to. If the tricksters’ frail casting abilities were not changed, even if she saved a thousand bonded laborers in Rustwater Alchemy Workshop, she couldn’t save the thousand and first.

As the saying goes, ’Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.’

This kind of story could only further affirm her current actions, confirming the path she had chosen.

The Compass was placed on a zao-red high stool, the polished, shiny spoon quietly resting on the smooth copper plate, black copper oxide and green verdigris mixed together, filling many tiny rifts on the plate. Those rifts were the array patterns and rune marks on the Compass.

Catherine vigorously stirred with a spoon and then dashed back to the edge of the circle, taking a seat in an empty spot. She too was a trickster and needed to participate in this ’lottery’ event.

Unlike normal compasses, this compass was more aptly called a ’Fate Compass,’ as it was not a device for determining direction, but an alchemy tool for measuring luck. It would find the witch whose fortune was the strongest during a specified period, according to the user’s requirements. This was one of the reasons why Korma’s experiments had lower negative effects.

The tricksters sat around in a circle, hands propped up, heads bowed, quietly praying:

”We are all mortals...”

”From the moment of birth, we are moving toward death...”

”Travelers...”

”Why not depart a bit earlier...”

”Every moment of life is overseen by others...”

”Only death makes us equals...”

”All the paths in the world have been walked by others...”

”Only the last patch of pristine snow behind the swamp of death beckons to us...”

”It’s my turn...”

”It’s my turn...”

”It’s my turn...”

At first, the prayers were low and somewhat chaotic; however, as the handle of the Fate Compass began to buzz and spin, and as the minds of the people praying gradually cleared of distractions, the voices became more uniform and louder.

Eventually, the sound waves reverberated through the spacious hall, causing the windows and doors to tremble and buzz.

Korma, holding a bowl of mixed potion, stood just outside the circle, quietly observing the devout expressions of the young tricksters. The strong chanting, compared to her usually fluctuating magic fluctuations, became more and more subtle; her companions’ intense desires acted like a sedative, thoroughly calming the witch’s heart.

Finally.

The spinning spoon on the Fate Compass stopped.

Ding—a crisp sound came from the brass dish, and the loud prayers stopped abruptly.

The tricksters could lift their heads now.

Some lifted their heads bravely, looking directly at the Fate Compass; others still had their eyes closed, whispering prayers; and some did not dare raise their heads, still propping up their arms, hands clenched into fists against their foreheads, merely perking up their ears to hear the low exclamations of their companions.

Catherine was naturally one of the few most courageous tricksters.

She lifted her head, opened her eyes, and then she saw the long handle of the Fate Compass pointing directly at her brow.

The young female trickster stood up calmly, her voice slightly trembling, announced:

”The seventy-ninth experiment assistant selection is complete.”

”Selected, Catherine Stuart.”

A low gasp erupted around the circle, voices combining shock, unease, and relief. The high stools on which the tricksters sat emitted ominous creaks; everyone began lifting their heads, looking toward the female trickster who had stood up.

She held her head high, her snow-white neck exposed, like a brave swan.