Warlock Apprentice

Sunders and Rein disappeared around the end of the hallway.

Angor wondered what was the matter.

He did not feel any mana ripple or strong emotions from the old man called Rein. It seemed to be an old gentleman with strict self-discipline. However, considering how everyone in the manor including Sunders paid him great respect, the old man had to be someone really special.

“Would you like to have a meal, Mister Padt?” Goode sent the other servants away and walked to Angor.

“Butler… Goode. Huh?”

When Goode talked to him, Angor thought that the silencing spell was removed. However, he just realized he could only talk in a really small voice. He sounded quieter than a meowing kitten.

Angor tried to clear his throat in a loud way, but his voice sounded even weaker.

“Good evening, Mister Padt.”

The cold and indifferent tone of the figure also sounded familiar. Angor always pretended such a character in front of everyone when he was “Baron Milk”.

“Who is it?” Angor tried to ask.

“Baron Milk” removed his robe to reveal—wait, no. There was a second robe on him, and his face was hidden behind a mask.

“Phantom Servant?” Angor quickly recognized the patterns on the mask.

“Yes. I’m Number 233. You may call me by that number, Mister Padt,” said the servant. His voice slowly changed along with his physique.

In a matter of seconds, “Number 233” grew taller under Angor’s gaze. His voice sounded sharper now compared to the hoarse tone of “Baron Milk”.

“Did you just, mimic me?”

Number 233 bowed his head. “When Mister Padt was unconscious on the bed, Mister Toby asked me to take on your look and compete in the Sky Tower in your place.”

“You fought matches for me in these two days??” Angor asked in disbelief.

Number 233 shook his head. “My expertise is form-shifting and imitating. I’m not adept at combat. I joined a total of 17 matches in three days. They were all managed by Mister Toby himself.”

Toby raised its head high and waited for Angor’s praise.

“Seventeen?! You won them all?”

“Yes, Mister. You’re now at the 14th level. And you’re quite famous among the other fighters.”

“But I don’t need fame! Are you alright, Toby?” Angor placed Toby in his palm carefully and checked if the bird was wounded.

“Mister Toby defeated every enemy with only one hit. Some of the audiences are beginning to call you the ‘One-Hit Man’,” Number 233 commented.

Angor made sure Toby was unharmed and frowned at 233’s words. “One-Hit Man, huh? Toby was the one who defeated the fighters. Shouldn’t they use a name like ‘One-Hit Bird’?”

“No one called Mister Toby that way. But I did hear someone referring to Baron Milk as the ‘One-Hit Birdy Man’. Still, most people prefer the shorter version.”

Angor walked toward the Manor with Toby while 233 followed.

Number 233 told Angor about the details of the matches.

And the details only gave Angor a big headache. He had earned quite a name for killing the champion of level 13. A bad one.

The following matches were all taken care of by Toby while “Baron Milk” simply stayed aside and watched, which caused his name to worsen further. People now considered him a fool who only knew how to rely on a familiar.

The situation grew worse when people looked at his previous matches. They exaggerated the power of his alchemy weapon and completely ignored the fact that Angor could also use spells.

Since he killed the “princess charm” of many audiences, all these foul comments were totally expected. And usually, Angor would keep low-profile for some time to avoid too much trouble.

But Toby did not know what “low-profile” was.

Without Angor, Toby grew more and more violent in front of people who kept badmouthing Angor. The bird finally lost patience and began killing everyone in the matches. He helped “Baron Milk” reach the 14th level, leaving a pile of corpses behind.

In just three days, the “distant and cold character” of Baron Milk, which Angor spent so much effort to establish, became a “Weakling”, a “One-Hit Man”, and a “Shameless Rogue”.

By “One-Hit Man”, people were actually being sarcastic.

Also, he was known as “someone who kills women mercilessly”.

Angor simply gave up on worrying about it. He already had enough bad names. Some extra ones would no longer hurt.

“However, there are a number of females that support you,” Number 233 suddenly spoke.

“Oh yeah? Paranoias, I guess. You know, there are always those who love to be ‘unique’. If something is hated by the public, they act in the opposite way.”

Number 233 shook his head. “No. I think it’s because Mister Padt accidentally exposed a part of your face in front of everyone during the match against Parasite Queen. Those women are all attracted by your handsomeness.”

“… So I’m a ‘Handsome A*shole’ now? Damn. That sounds even worse.”