High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 1573: Chapter 317: A Long Night (10)

The old wizard caught a hint of fervor in his assistant’s gaze, and a trace of amusement flickered in his eyes.

”Of course, this is absolutely... The Big Wizard being questioned today is none other than Lady Su Shijun of the Moon Council’s Upper House, hailing from the Qingqiu Fox clan.”

He tugged at his beard modestly but quickly adopted a sterner tone:

”I know one of your friends is a diehard fan of Su Councilor, but today is hardly the occasion to beg for an autograph... The Alliance maintains strict regulations on dimension-related experiments, and members of the Moon Council fall under the category of absolute prohibition. The trouble Su Councilor has stirred up might lead to her being stripped of her title as Upper House Member...”

”But I heard her experiment had already been reported to the Professor Joint Meeting at the First University,” a courageous assistant of another inquiry committee member interrupted the old wizard.

The old wizard cast an unhappy glance at his colleague, a round-faced middle-aged witch.

The witch patted her assistant’s arm, signaling her silence, and explained with a smile: ”Dimension-related experiments require approval from the Magic Alliance Conference... While the Professor Joint Meeting at the First University does have partial licensing authority, it doesn’t hold full approval rights. Otherwise, there would be no point in convening this inquiry.”

”There’s no point anyway,” muttered the first male assistant in a low voice—perhaps in the hearts of young wizards, there were always pursuits far nobler and more meaningful than interests or compromises—entirely disregarding the old wizard’s increasingly gloomy expression:

”Everyone knows that the Magic Alliance Conference is dominated by Big Wizards from the First University. Proposals involving the school have almost never been rejected...”

”Ahem!”

A skinny inquiry committee member began to cough violently, as if trying to expel a lung. The loud coughing interrupted the muttering of the male assistant, effectively averting a potential catastrophe.

The round-faced witch gave the coughing warlock a worried look.

”James, are you sure you’re up for today’s inquiry?” She flipped through her Law book, and a faint green light shimmered gently upon the skinny warlock, instantly quieting the coughs. She continued:

”We all know you and little Fizzell don’t get along... That shouldn’t be your reason for avoiding his company’s potions. If you don’t mind, I could ask old Fizzell to join us.”

Little Fizzell is the owner of the Fizzell Magic Pharmacy Company, the largest magic potion producer in the Wizard World, employing numerous skilled therapists.

”Cough cough... hiss hiss...” The skinny warlock coughed twice more, took the hot tea handed to him by his assistant, sipped tentatively, and then slowly replied: ”Thank you for your soothing spell; I feel much better. But I must make one correction—my bad relationship with little Fizzell doesn’t affect my purchases of his products. My refusal stems from one reason alone: their potion quality is abysmal, far inferior to the ones I could concoct by stirring with my toes.”

The assistant behind the round-faced witch apparently found this remark amusing, letting out a soft snicker.

This drew a stern glance from her boss, matched by a satisfied nod from the skinny warlock.

”Instead of discussing trivial nonsense,” the skinny warlock said, setting down his teacup and wiping the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief, ”why not focus on real matters?” He turned his gaze to the gray-haired old wizard: ”Findley, did you bet on the ’Black Prison Cup’ this time? Which team do you favor? I heard the odds for ’Firebird’ are rather low.”

It should be clarified that the ’Black Prison Cup’ isn’t a hunting competition with a fixed schedule but a series of temporary competitions organized by the Alliance amid recent events in the Black Prison. Numerous hunting teams have gathered in the dark world, prompting event organizers to seize the commercial opportunity and create informal rounds, collectively titled ’Black Prison Cup.’

Since all participating hunting teams belong to the young generation, and the prey targeted consists of wandering ’unstable elements’ within the Black Prison—helpful in maintaining its stability—the First University, after receiving a massive sponsorship fee from the Alliance, turned a blind eye, letting those fiery young hunters frolic around in the Black Prison.

As the conversation amongst the warlocks shifted toward the competition, the round-faced witch sighed helplessly and muttered something under her breath.

The old wizard absentmindedly tugged at his beard.

”The Black Prison Cup, hm,” his tone was somewhat reserved, ”Just a magnified version of the ’Academy Cup.’ The teams consist of novice brats... My family for five generations has been devoted fans of the Central Continent Hunting Group. We wouldn’t bother with such second-rate matches.”

”Firebird would never participate in a second-rate match!” The skinny warlock seemed slightly offended, raising his tone—a move that immediately triggered another bout of violent coughing, but he persisted: ”Cough cough... Firebird, cough cough, Firebird is universally recognized as a mid-generation elite hunting team, cough cough! Elite!”

Noticing the two colleagues were veering toward pointless disputes, the witch seated in the middle quickly stepped in to mediate: ”Regardless of Firebird or the Central Continent Hunting Group, both have exceptionally skilled hunters. You can debate this topic later... I think I might have heard footsteps in the hallway just now—was it my imagination?”

As she spoke, she flipped her Law book again, casting another soothing spell toward the skinny warlock.

The faint green light once again dispelled the harsh coughs.

The meeting room fell silent almost instantly.

Everyone craned their ears to listen for a moment, but no footsteps could be heard.

”Hmm, maybe I was mistaken.” The round-faced witch twirled the feather pen in her hand, glanced at the clock on the meeting room’s side table, and then looked back at her assistant: ”What was the inquiry invitation’s stated start time?”

”Five o’clock in the morning,” her assistant checked the notepad and confidently answered.

The round-faced witch glanced at the clock again and shook her head. ”That means Su Councilor is already late... It’s now 5:03 AM.”

”Hmph!” The gray-haired old wizard let out a few cold chuckles: ”Time is the most critical concept for wizards. A wizard’s attitude toward time can fully reflect their character... Many young people assume the whole world will coddle them, believing everyone should accommodate their whims, without realizing that wizards abandoned by time often end up as mere grandchildren.”

Behind the old wizard, his newly appointed male assistant earnestly noted down every word his boss uttered, including the part that was blatantly crude.

...

...

When Lady Su Shijun pushed open the door to the meeting room, she arrived just in time to hear those last few sentences.

She paused mid-step, debating whether she should pretend she hadn’t entered or open her Law book to cast a minor tongue-sealing curse that would glue the old man’s mouth to the roof of his own jaw.