Diary of a Dead Wizard-Chapter 78: I Don’t Usually Laugh

Saul felt a bit dazed. He had this strange sensation—like he was flying.

His teeth? It seemed like he had clenched them, but maybe he was just biting air.

His hands? Maybe they were gripping the armrests, or maybe they were just flailing around in the air… like he was doing the seaweed dance.

Saul hated this kind of out-of-control feeling—though, he had to admit, it felt kind of good.

It reminded him of the day he completed his modification, when the whole world turned into soap bubbles, and he was utterly powerless.

"I have to wake up." Saul murmured to himself in a haze.

He began to meditate.

The Human-Monster Movement Diagram appeared in his mind.

Dots, lines, diagrams, planes… everything unfolded bit by bit.

With the appearance of the lowermost monster, clarity returned, and his thoughts sharpened.

Then came the fear.

Opening his eyes, Saul saw a phantom crawling all over him!

The phantom clung to Saul, its feet pressing against his knees, one hand on his shoulder, the other clawing at the air.

Its head was a blur of shadow, with no visible facial features, but it kept swinging side to side, as if searching for something.

Oddly enough, although it was perched right on top of Saul, it seemed unable to see him.

Its hands waved through the air, passing powerlessly through Saul’s body, and the chair behind him—unable to touch anything solid.

Faintly, Saul thought he heard a roar from his memories.

It was Sid’s voice.

Suddenly, the phantom’s head seemed to sense something and snapped around to face Saul.

The shadowy face scattered like sand in the wind, slowly revealing Sid’s twisted features beneath.

His eyes slowly focused. In the next moment, he opened his mouth.

"Found you."

As that monstrous face inched closer, Saul still couldn’t move a muscle.

All he could do was hold himself steady and lock eyes with those tiny, almost invisible pupils.

Sid's terrifying grin widened as he leaned in closer, his ghostly form somehow exhaling a chill as cold as death itself, like it came straight from the depths of hell.

That icy breath hit Saul’s face, making him blink, but oddly enough, he wasn’t as afraid as he thought he’d be.

He’d killed Sid once.

He could do it again—even if it was Sid’s vengeful spirit!

Their foreheads were almost touching…

A sharp pain began pulsing in Saul’s forehead. He was about to risk a mental backlash and strike the ghost when—

Suddenly, a flash of indistinct lightning arced from Saul’s body, instantly forming a massive net that enveloped Sid’s spirit completely.

The moment the net touched the spirit, Sid’s face twisted in agony. He opened his mouth wide, revealing a pitch-black void behind his teeth.

Sid was wailing.

But no sound reached Saul’s ears.

Sid arched backward, trying to escape.

But his limbs seemed glued to Saul, unable to pull away no matter how he struggled.

Under the electric net’s assault, Sid’s spirit grew more and more transparent, rippling and flickering like it could vanish at any second.

At the last moment, he gave up trying to flee and lunged at Saul again, mouth stretching grotesquely wide—so wide it looked like it might split open to the back of his skull, ready to swallow Saul’s entire face…

In a flash, another silver-white net burst from Saul’s body, slamming directly onto Sid’s face and blocking the attack.

The net tightened, and Sid’s already fragile spirit began to emit wisps of green smoke.

The net slowly sank into Sid’s form, like squeezing an overinflated balloon.

Until—

Bang!

Sid’s spirit shattered under the pressure.

Saul’s mind filled in the explosion sound on its own, and his whole body felt suddenly lighter.

At the exact moment Sid’s ghost burst, Saul caught a glimpse—just for an instant—of a white shadow and a black shadow fleeing from the remains of Sid’s spirit.

The white one dove into Saul’s left hand.

The black one tried to escape but was yanked toward Saul’s left shoulder by an overwhelming force.

If Saul could move, he’d probably have turned his head instantly to track that black shadow.

What was in his left shoulder?

The diary?

The next moment, Saul felt a powerful sensation of falling, and his whole being crashed back into his body.

It didn’t hurt, but he felt weak.

Nick’s cold voice rang out. “Alright. The spirit clinging to you has been purged.”

Saul weakly raised his head, just in time to see Nick placing the control panel back on the table.

Seeing Saul regain consciousness, Nick slightly lowered his head and asked, “So? That was fast, right?”

Saul replied feebly, “How long was I out?”

Nick glanced at the hourglass. “One minute and forty-five seconds.”

At some point, the metal restraints had retracted from Saul’s body. He pushed himself up using the armrests and stood.

Well, he stood… but the moment he tried to take a step, he realized his upper body was moving while his legs didn’t follow.

His legs had turned to jelly. He stumbled forward and crashed to the ground.

“You alright?” Nick’s voice came from across the room, still as indifferent as ever. “I forgot you’re still young. You react more strongly to this kind of stimulus.”

Saul propped himself up with both hands and lifted his head.

Why did it feel like Nick was mocking him?

But when he looked, Nick’s expression was as cold and emotionless as ever—no trace of mockery.

Saul gave up and sat on the ground, waiting for the feeling to return to his legs before slowly standing again.

“Well, today’s experiment is done. You can go rest now,” Nick said as he tidied up the lab, making no move to help.

“Got it, senior.”

Saul stood, his legs still wobbly, like he was walking on cotton.

“When should I come back tomorrow?”

“No need to be so frequent. Once every three days will do,” Nick replied, pausing to glance at Saul’s still-shaking legs. “Even test subjects need rest.”

Saul: “…”

That was definitely mockery!

In the end, Saul left the lab while leaning against the wall for support.

As soon as the door closed behind him, he vaguely heard an exaggerated fit of laughter from within.

Laughing so hard it sounded like someone was dying.

Then something slammed into a desk.

Then something heavy hit the floor.

Then fists pounded the ground…

And the laughter never stopped.

“Seriously? You’re laughing that hard? And you claim to be good at managing emotions!” Saul cursed silently. “This is how you manage them?”

The noise from the lab continued.

Mixed in with the wild laughter, Saul began to hear a hint of pain.

His annoyance was swiftly replaced by an inexplicable sense of dread.

He pressed his lips together tightly, gave the tightly shut lab door one last glance, and hurried away.

The laughter finally faded behind him.

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So that no one would notice anything odd, Saul straightened up before reaching the slope, pretending nothing was wrong.

It’s hard to go downhill—especially when your legs are jelly.

He barely made it back to his dorm, didn’t even reach his bed, and just collapsed face-down onto the floor.

He had no strength left. He simply relaxed his legs, rolled over onto his back, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

So much had happened that morning. The sheer amount of information he’d taken in felt like it was going to make his head explode.

The trouble-averse Mentor Anze…

The increasingly influential Mutual Aid Society…

The Tower Master he brushed past…

The newly appeared Second-Rank Wizard…

Mentor Rum’s olive branch…

Nick’s hidden revelations…

And finally, that clash with Sid…

Saul suddenly sat up.

He looked at his left shoulder. The diary was floating there quietly, calmly watching the show.

But just before Sid’s vengeful spirit vanished, he had clearly seen a black shadow get pulled into that very spot.

If anything could interact with a spirit, it had to be the Diary of Dead Wizard.

“What was that black shadow?” Saul tried to ask the diary, but it ignored him.

The black shadow was gone. The diary was as aloof as ever.

All he could do now was look into the white shadow that had entered his left hand.

His modified left hand was mostly made of plastic bone—designed to enhance magic and boost dark attribute perception.

It was mostly for support, with a bit of defense. It didn’t add much to offense.

So most of the time, his left hand didn’t stand out.

But today, something unusual finally happened.

It made Saul a little nervous—worried that one day he’d wake up to find his left hand had mutated beyond control.

And even with that faint anxiety, Saul hadn’t expected the diary to react when he looked at his left hand.

August 25th, Year 314 of a Lunar Calendar, Clear Skies.

You made trash, and it unexpectedly absorbed a soul fragment.

That’s when you realized—your randomly assembled left hand turned out to be a new type of soul resin material.

It’s pretty trashy as far as soul resin goes, but hey, at least it can store a soul fragment for two days.

But what can you do with a soul fragment?

Play cards with it?

(End of Chapter)