A Lackey in the Mage Tower

Survive. In this magic world that devours people, simply staying alive takes everything you have. After transmigrating to another world, Zhou Yang didn’t get a cheerful “Ding!” from a System. All he got was a bloodied whip from the overseer. From the start, he was an undocumented nobody, and his job was to be expendable. This is the Black Tower, a man-eating machine of magical industry. Faced with mages who can destroy the world at a whim and hideous magical beasts, Zhou Yang, a former warehouse stock clerk, has only one weapon: the survival instincts he honed from the bottom up. Can’t understand the spells? Sort and file the runes by shape, just like sorting parcels. Can’t afford potions? Scavenge usable scraps from the waste heap and refine them yourself. Can’t learn magic? Do it the hard way: practice a single movement ten thousand times, until it becomes muscle memory. This is a story about “accumulation.” There are no overnight miracles, only a 2,500-calorie deficit, scraps of discarded parchment hidden in the soles of your shoes, and every struggle an ordinary person faces just to stay alive. “The end of magic isn’t a miracle. It’s millions of calculations and hours of practice.”