The Raffle
The Raffle
Sales of Iron-Blooded Alchemist Volume 3 were several times higher than those of other picture books or manga volumes.
It wasn't just other books—the numbers were far higher than Volumes 1 and 2 as well, and the biggest reason for that was, of course, the raffle ticket.
Countless people had bought multiple copies just to raise their odds after hearing that the limited-edition Imperial-Certified Alchemist Pocket Watch could only be won through the raffle.
That worked out nicely for commoners, who could buy copies with the raffle tickets removed at a discount.
And the people who bought multiple copies could recover some of their money, so it helped everyone.
Then, as the day of the pocket watch drawing finally approached, people began gathering in front of the Yuren Merchant Company.
Crystal orbs had been distributed to every branch, allowing ticket holders to watch the raffle ceremony at the company headquarters.
Only those holding raffle tickets were granted the right to view this drawing ceremony.
To prove the raffle was fair, the Yuren Merchant Company had invited VIP nobles to its headquarters, and even the Magic Tower had sent an observer.
In the center of the reception room stood a massive cylindrical drum stuffed full of paper slips.
It was a drawing machine specially commissioned from the Magic Tower to ensure the raffle was conducted fairly.
When a button was pressed, a weak wind spell inside would send the paper slips swirling, and the number written on the first slip to pass through the opening would be the winning number.
The Magic Tower guaranteed that the machine could not be manipulated, so even the most suspicious customers had to admit the result came down entirely to luck.
The ceremony would be recorded on an Image-Recording Stone and distributed to every branch, and the winning numbers would also be posted publicly.
But the number of people gathered at each branch was staggering because no one wanted to miss the moment of the draw.
And at last, the drawing began.
"Twelve draws in total! If two slips come out instead of one, only the first one counts as a winner, and the rest go back into the drum!"
Since this was a major event, Esteban, the head of the Yuren Merchant Company, came out personally to conduct the drawing.
Normally, an event like this would have been left to a branch manager or ordinary employee.
'The number of people gathered here is beyond what I expected. If I'm not careful, a riot could break out.'
He had expected interest, but the sheer size and feverish excitement of the crowd convinced Esteban to take charge personally.
He was the best person to prepare for any contingency, after all.
"Woooo!! Hurry up and start!!!"
"Please, number 832... please, number 832...."
"I've done research on these raffle ticket numbers...."
The waiting crowd began letting out cheers and jeers, even though they knew their voices wouldn't reach Esteban's ears.
The scene radiated a strange heat despite it being winter, with all kinds of voices mingling together.
People's eyes were filled with greed.
'If I win, my fortune is made!'
The day the pocket watch, the prize of this drawing, was displayed at the Yuren Merchant Company main office.
More than a few nobles had come with bags of gold, asking to buy it after seeing it.
Some of the offers were jaw-dropping amounts, but Esteban refused firmly.
Everyone had no choice but to back down at his resolute declaration that this pocket watch could only be obtained through the drawing.
But seeing is wanting, and—as expected—the number of thieves trying to sneak into the Yuren Merchant Company had risen sharply from the day the watch went on display.
Not just professional thieves but all sorts of riffraff had broken in to steal the pocket watch.
Word had already spread that every one of them had been caught by company mercenaries or Magic Tower traps and hauled off to an imperial prison.
The real reason so many people had tried to steal the watch was a bounty posted by a mysterious tycoon.
People whose eyes had turned wild at the declaration that whoever brought the pocket watch by any means would be paid 100 gold for it had attacked the merchant company.
That declaration effectively set the watch’s minimum value at 100 gold, and the resulting madness was one more reason people were obsessed with today’s raffle.
Of course, to those who simply wanted the pocket watch out of fan devotion, that sight didn't look particularly good.
"Damn it. Something like that belongs with a true reader like me."
Many people thought of the pocket watch as a precious item that couldn't simply be converted into money—there were only twelve of them.
For all their different reasons, everyone’s eyes fixed on Esteban’s hand.
His hand finally moved toward the button, and at the same moment, the paper slips inside the cylinder began fluttering like cherry blossoms.
***
"It's still a prototype, but the quality is already good enough to sell."
"Don't be ridiculous! The joint movement still isn't smooth. Using Arachne silk was the right call, but I need to mix in something more."
I ignored Kroon's words and kept examining the New-Model Golem Prosthesis.
Remarkably precise parts interlocked one by one, showing natural movement.
Kroon had boasted that equipment and materials were the only things holding him back and that he could build it once he had the right conditions. He had not been lying.
Of course, there were still many important parts remaining.
Connecting the Golem Prosthesis to the user’s nerves still required Magic Tower technology, and this prototype used so many parts that it looked absurdly complicated at a glance.
According to Kroon, it was at a level where even one missing screw would stop it from working, so practical use was out of the question.
The amount and quality of material that had gone into it were outrageous too.
I couldn't tell whether I'd brought in a dwarf craftsman or a gold-devouring hippopotamus—his love of materials with no sense of money was beyond stopping.
At least mithril, orichalcum, and other absurdly expensive metals were not for sale, so he had been unable to buy them.
If those had been on the market, he probably would have thrown a fit demanding I buy them even if it meant selling himself into slavery.
'Anyway, where am I going to use this?'
As impressive as the New-Model Golem Prosthesis was, finishing it would create a problem of its own.
It was clearly an advancement compared to the existing Golem Prosthesis sold by the Magic Tower.
But the price was far higher too, so there weren't many people who would buy it.
There was no way to make it affordable for commoners. Knights who had lost limbs were the most obvious customers, but how many of them could there really be?
Since this research had been permitted as a condition of recruiting Kroon, I had no choice but to continue it, and I wanted to commercialize it somehow.
I wanted to recover at least some of the investment, and if commoners could use products like this, many people would be able to regain hope.
The irony was that I had expected money to eliminate my problems, only to discover that earning more of it created even more problems.
The things I wanted to do and the things I had to do seemed to keep increasing.
I had clearly thought at first that earning just enough to live in moderate luxury would satisfy me.
"Time... I wish I had overflowing time."
I wished there was a place like the Room of Spirit and Time that appears in a mega-hit manga.
I imagined going inside, producing dozens of manga volumes, then bringing the craftsmen with me so we could develop technology decades ahead of its time.
Then I realized it was an impossible dream and felt gloomy again.
There was only one cure for this gloomy feeling: overtime.
"Sena, you worked hard today. Go get some rest now."
"Already?"
"You already drew for two whole hours today. You need to rest well."
Even at my words, Sena said she wanted to draw more, but since she shouldn't get used to overwork from a young age, I firmly sent Sena out of the workshop.
"Master Rupert! Does that mean we can go home too?"
"What are you talking about? Did you drink during work or something?"
The craftsmen saw Sena leave and crowded around asking whether they could go too. I stared at them as if they had lost their minds.
"Wh...why!!! Why only Sena!!! We can't leave...."
"Everyone, Sena is only twelve years old. I already feel bad making her help with work during the time she should be running around and playing."
Of all the things to be jealous of.
The craftsmen, seemingly unable to argue with my words, trudged back to their places.
"That's why you should have pulled an all-nighter like me yesterday and produced your work! Hahaha, I'll be heading off now."
Watching that scene, Kroon quietly rose from his seat and headed toward the exit.
"Alain, close it."
"Yes, Master Rupert."
Alain, who had been waiting outside the door, closed it and fastened the lock just one step before Kroon reached it.
"Wh...what!! I finished all my work!!! I stayed up all night yesterday too!"
"Yesterday is yesterday, and today is today. You finished all your work? The merchandise shop is about to open soon—are you saying that after you've finished producing the entire initial batch of figurines?"
"Well, no, that's not... but still, I completed the New-Model Golem Prosthesis prototype...."
"I’m very disappointed, Kroon. I’ve supported your research and development exactly as promised, and you’re telling me your own research comes first while production comes second?"
Kroon snapped back at my words.
"What nonsense is that! Are you saying this Kroon is a dwarf who would break his word?!"
"No. Of course you wouldn't, so please hurry up and produce the figurines. If you pull all-nighters all this week, you should be able to meet the quantity."
"Of course! Nothing is impossible for dwarves!"
Kroon huffed and returned to his seat.
I was no different. Before returning to my seat, I downed a bottle of Vitality Potion in one shot and sat back at my desk to continue work on Iron-Blooded Alchemist Volume 4.
Sena was still at the teaching stage, not yet at a level where she could help with speed, so it actually took more time—meaning I had to draw as much as possible, as fast as possible, when working alone.
'Three hours left until Monk Manuel visits.'
At my request, the workshop had adopted a system where it was locked from the outside, so no one could leave until someone opened the door.
Since there were occasionally people who tried to escape using the bathroom as an excuse, the bathroom was also inside the workshop, and food and drink were always stocked, so people could only leave at set times.
Moreover, for anyone who didn't want to leave work but wanted to sleep, simple cots were provided.
Honestly, I was worried that with this kind of environment, the craftsmen would throw tantrums about not wanting to go home.
Unfortunately, that never happened.
And the facilities were better than the South Korean military’s, too.