Wizard Starts Farming With Mini Skeletons
Chapter 109

Chapter 109: Chapter 109

Inside a brothel, a man stood with his head bowed in shame, repeatedly apologizing. His face was a portrait of deep regret for a mistake he had made.

"I’m sorry, sir! I swear it was an accident. I didn’t see your ring on the table—I must have set the tray down on it without realizing..."

But the greasy-faced, overweight man didn’t care about Bravus’s apology. Instead, he continued berating him harshly.

"I don’t want to hear it! This is all your fault! That ring is my most prized possession! I don’t even use it when I go to the toilet—and you dare damage it?! You’ll pay for this!"

Bravus instantly panicked, his voice trembling with fear.

"B-but sir, the ring isn’t broken. It’s just a minor scratch," he said weakly, trying to explain.

Clearly, Bravus didn’t want to accept full responsibility. He was willing to admit there might be a slight scratch, but nothing more. In his mind, that would be enough to avoid any unreasonable punishment.

He thought the explanation was reasonable. Unfortunately, it only made the oily man even more furious.

"What?! Are you trying to tell me how I should feel about my own ring?!" the man roared, his voice rising with rage.

"N-no, sir—"

Before Bravus could finish his sentence, the man slapped him hard across the face.

Smack!

His cheek instantly burned like fire. The warm, sultry, and slightly sticky air typical of a brothel turned cold and tense. A few patrons turned their heads, their eyes now fixed on the confrontation.

Bravus could feel their stares digging into him, making the sting on his face even worse. Humiliation washed over him. Angry and frustrated, he clenched his jaw but dared not react—he feared things could escalate further.

As the man’s temper subsided slightly, Bravus tried again.

"I truly apologize, sir. If you’d be willing to wait, I can compensate you fairly," Bravus said, unintentionally using a tone that carried a hint of pride.

It backfired instantly.

The older man grew even angrier. To him, a lowly brothel servant claiming he could replace such a valuable item was laughable—insulting, even.

That ring had been a gift from a noble, a reward for years of dedicated service. And now this servant had the audacity to act like he could make things right?

Feeling mocked, the man slapped Bravus again—this time even harder.

Smack!

Now both of Bravus’s cheeks bore the imprint of a hand. One throbbed with sharp pain, but even that was nothing compared to the unbearable humiliation of being struck in public.

Bravus seethed inside. He was furious—but he still didn’t fight back. All he could do was dream of the day he’d get revenge.

He stood up again, trying to reason with the man. But just then, his eyes caught a familiar figure in the crowd—and he froze.

Clayton.

Their eyes locked. Bravus instantly felt his shame deepen. Of all people, he had seen this.

His thoughts spiraled. His pride crumbled.

As Bravus stood stunned, the middle-aged man grew impatient again.

"Hey! What’s wrong now?! Playing dumb after I slapped you? Are you trying to provoke me?!" he shouted, shoving Bravus backward.

The shove snapped Bravus out of his daze. Everything came rushing back. And the look in Clayton’s eyes—cold and judging—only worsened his humiliation.

He couldn’t let it end like this.

Just as the man raised his hand to strike again—

Smack!

Bravus acted first. His slap landed squarely on the man’s left cheek.

The man stood frozen. For a moment, he couldn’t believe what had just happened. Around them, gasps filled the air. A brothel servant had just slapped a wealthy customer.

In a world of magic and swords, such an act wasn’t taken lightly.

Seconds passed before the man, hand trembling, pointed at Bravus.

"You...! How dare you...!"

Bravus didn’t flinch. He snorted coldly and glanced toward Clayton, as if to say: See? I’m not weak.

Still stunned, the man kept pointing. Bravus, growing bolder by the second, struck again.

Slap!

This time, the man fell backward, landing hard on his rear.

"Argh!"

He cried out, eyes wild with panic, as if his life were in danger. Meanwhile, Bravus looked completely satisfied. He turned to Clayton, eyes practically shouting: Look who’s in control now.

Clayton merely rolled his eyes and walked away, unimpressed.

Bravus mistook the gesture for fear and scoffed arrogantly. Meanwhile, the man lay moaning in pain. A few people began to gather, curious about the commotion.

Despite being a three-star mage apprentice, the man’s age and lifestyle had left him weak. Before long, he lost consciousness.

Bravus looked even more pleased at the sight of him lying sprawled on the floor. He even tried to go in for another hit, but was held back by bystanders. Once things calmed down, the crowd slowly backed off, not wanting to get involved.

Not long after, the boss of the gambling den arrived with a few men, his face tense with confusion.

He looked at the unconscious man and turned to the crowd.

"What happened here?"

After hearing the full story, his face darkened.

"Bravus! Why is it always you causing problems?!"

"Oh come on, Boss—it wasn’t my fault this time! That guy lost it over a little scratch on his ugly ring! Then he slapped me when I offered to pay him back!"

The boss was so furious he couldn’t even speak.

"Take him. Now!" he barked at his men.

Bravus panicked. "Boss! Why me? Can’t we just talk this out?!"

But the boss had had enough. His men grabbed Bravus and dragged him to a basement room near the brothel.

Now Bravus was truly terrified. This wasn’t a minor incident anymore. He screamed for mercy, but all he received was a cold glare.

...

Meanwhile...

Clayton finally arrived home. He finished his errands and began preparing to craft a

forty-eight magic scroll.

He sat in focused silence, laying out all the materials he needed. The process was far from easy. Many ingredients were wasted on failed attempts—but Clayton didn’t give up.

He worked late into the night, carefully carving symbols and forming spell circuits.

At last, one of the scrolls began to glow, its lines and magical runes shining faintly. A flicker of hope lit up in Clayton’s eyes.

"Let’s hope this one works..."