Episode 023 "Think it's too late to take up the sword? Far from it. If I teach you personally, I'll pave a highway straight to knighthood. Probation? No need for that crap. One recommendation from me, and you're a lieutenant tomorrow!"
……Should I ask if I can suck her toes?
I stared at her, dumbfounded by this batshit world where even military ranks are called "lieutenant." If a full knight is a private, does that make a swordmaster a one-star? Grand swordmaster a four-star? …Yeah, probably.
"What do you say?"
"……."
What do I say? A thousand worms were crawling in my gut. What a load of crap. Am I insane? In my past life, even one and a half years of hell made me obsess over the Defense Ministry clock every damn day. Spend my life as a military drone? I'd rather bite my tongue and die.
But I couldn't show it. Look at that back-and-forth we just had. If I whined about it being tough or not suiting me, this old fogey would pounce.
"Time for a mental overhaul! The army's the answer!"
……No doubt. To shut my father up for good, I had to nail this shut perfectly. Not that I wouldn't enlist, but that I couldn't. Crush him with logic. An irrefutable excuse.
I hardened my face, shedding the playfulness for the mask of a youth more serious and tormented than anyone in the empire.
"Professor."
"Speak! I'm expecting a positive answer."
"Regardless of elsewhere."
I locked eyes with Wilhelm and enunciated clearly.
"Considering my position and our family's, I will never throw myself into the military."
"……What?"
Wilhelm's brow furrowed.
"Our family's position? What do you mean? The Parne family doesn't disdain the martial path."
Right. My dad and brother wielded blades like pros.
"But that's not reason to refuse the empire's call, is it?"
Okay. Oil up the tongue nice and slick.
……Here we go.
"I gained a reputation for crawling on the academy floor just days after enrolling. You know that, right?"
"I do. Word is you pulled all sorts of stunts."
"No matter my stunts, why do you think that was possible?"
I fiddled with my teacup, flashing a bitter smile.
"Because the name Parne carries such immense weight that a punk like me couldn't tarnish it."
"Hmm."
Wilhelm stroked his chin.
"So…… the Parne family's dignity is so vast that even your antics get filed as 'personal deviation unrelated to the house'?"
"Exactly. But Professor."
I lowered my voice, like insulting Lily in front of the crown prince.
"The name Parne has prestige. But that's not just from wealth and history, is it?"
"……!"
"It's the weight born of fear. We're the emperor's shadow—the eyes and ears gripping intelligence and surveillance."
Wilhelm's expression slowly stiffened. He was old, but no fool. Age meant survival. Wilhelm von Kreuz was a master of battlefield politics. He'd instinctively grasp what I meant.
"My brother is perfect. Flawless. Father won't retire in disgrace. He'll be the next heir, and the intelligence bureau will fall to him."
"True enough."
"But if I, the second son, become the prized disciple of Professor Wilhelm—the living legend and core of the imperial military—and enter the ranks?"
I let out a self-mocking chuckle.
"What would that look like to others?"
"……That the family clutching the intelligence bureau now eyes the military too?"
"Spot on."
Wilhelm's eyes wavered. Intelligence + military might. That equation equaled one thing: coup optimization. Even if the emperor favored House Parne, a vassal holding both blade and eyes/ears was target number one. History proved blood winds blew when power's balance shattered.
The logic was sinking in, but Wilhelm didn't yield easily.
"That's jumping to conclusions. I see your loyalty, but His Majesty doesn't turn devotion to suspicion. And if you rise to general without the house harboring treason, what's the issue?"
"You're right—it's premature."
I nodded.
"But if my blood, sweat, and tears forging a general's path sharpen the guillotine blade over our family's neck? I won't risk it."
"Hmm…… Your thinking's too pessimistic. No romance."
"I think your view is too naive, Professor."
"What?"
I went full throttle on the cranky old man's "righteous truth" that read as bullshit sophistry.
"Never heard 'absolute power corrupts absolutely'?"
"That's not something to spout lightly."
Wilhelm's aura turned menacing, but I doubled down.
"You made the risky pitch first. Why would I say this otherwise? You're not backing off."
A scene from modern Korean history flashed in my mind: grizzled soldiers in tanks rolling into Seoul—grandpas too wild for even "Tito" to describe. I knew damn well what happened when intelligence and army fused, thanks to history class.
"I don't want history recording that our house entered the military and 'shattered the balance.' For the empire's peace, I should wield a pen…… or a hoe."
"……."
Wilhelm shut his mouth, groaning as he stared me down.
Did I piss off the old man? Go too far?
Moments later, he sighed deeply.
"……Hoo."
His eyes changed. Not fury at doubting the emperor, but…… respect?
Please, keep going. Please!
"Understood. I'll back off."
Yes! Nailed it!
"Such a shame. With insight like yours, you should lead multitudes……."
Wilhelm extended a rough, callused hand, his face moved.
This was my future. Terrifying.
"Worrying for family and empire over personal glory. In this peaceful age where we lose sight of essentials, you're a rare youth."
"……You're too kind."
Sage, my ass. I just spun some words to dodge the draft.
But Wilhelm had me pegged as a true patriot noble.
"Glad to meet a young noble with real patriotic fire after so long. Even on the mage's path, become a talent for the nation."
"Yes. I'll keep it in mind."
Not a chance, but army-free is win enough.
I clasped his hand solemnly. Dramatic negotiation: success.
'Cut! Cut! Draft exemption locked!'
Wilhelm patted my shoulder regretfully twice and rose.
"Talk well with the others. I'll put in a good word with the Palace Count."
"Thank you, Professor."
I stood, bowing furiously to his back. As the door shut behind him, I collapsed onto the sofa.
"Whew……."
Cold sweat for real. Biggest hurdle cleared. Two left: farmer Muller Viscountess and vampire Iris Professor.
After conquering the greatest peak, Professor Wilhelm, I'd been racking my brain alone.
'Alright, time to crunch the numbers.'
The answer was set, but I couldn't just nod and say "Sure."
'Situation's flipped. I'm the top dog now.'
Three professors wanted me. I was prime auction bait.
Squander this sweet top-dog moment? No way. That Korean DNA screaming "Pull every hit when you're the boss" writhed deep inside.
'Personal lab's not enough anymore.'
Needed more. Didn't even matter what—just boss flexing. That's the game: not need, just because you can.
Then.
Knock knock.
A rough knock, and the door opened. In strode the hipster in leather apron: Muller Viscountess. She crossed her legs on the opposite sofa, doffing her wide cowboy hat onto the table.
"Straight to business, Kasian."
Businesswoman through and through. Refreshing.
"Wilhelm looked pleased. Decided on the military?"
"No. Turned down Professor Wilhelm."
"Wise choice."
Muller Viscountess grinned.
"Two options left: me or Professor Iris."
"Yep."
"You seem a better fit for me, so bluntly: I hate beating around the bush."
She leaned forward, locking eyes. Confident gaze. And its source came next.
"Name your terms. I'll meet them all."
Prestige from cash, huh. In my past life, I never bought "We're broke, not gutless." Preferred the reverse: "Gutless? Nah, just broke." Damn, how cool is that? But this married stunner had both swagger and money.
"……Anything?"
"Yes. Anything."
I snorted inwardly.
'She thinks she knows what I'll ask?'
But also: She'd probably say 'whatever' to anything. Her relaxed smile didn't budge. Felt like a spoiled nephew facing an aunt offering allowance. Posture slipping polite.
"Folks without business sense don't get it. Nothing's impossible."
No way—that line?
"Just short on cash. Money fixes all. Can't? Bad budgeting."
"……."
Whoa…… fuck, thrilling. Dirt-poor Hel-Joseon DNA went berserk. Pure truth. Textbook stuff.
Catching my shaken face, Muller Viscountess hammered specifics.
"Heard you want a personal lab. Sick of prying eyes? I'll build you a state-of-the-art private greenhouse anywhere you want."
Fuck?
"Private greenhouse?"
"Of course. And no skimping, calling it 'same as a lab.'"
No way?
"I'll add a farm shed usable as a research lab, plus a separate personal lab in the liberal arts building. Fully equipped with top gear."
Whoa. Whoa. Holy fuck!
"Research funds? Unlimited. No receipts needed. Blank check authority on expenses—spend wild."
Unlimited company card. Sexier words exist?
"Rare ag tomes? Hard to snag. But my trade network grabs anything, even beyond the imperial library, in days."
"Gasp."
"And the kicker."
She winked.
"Farming's not just books. I'll station veteran hands 24/7. Ask anything; dirty days, just boss 'em: 'Plant that,' 'Pull this.' Done."
"……."
Insane. Super-lux noble farmer life beyond dreams, laid out.
She smirked confidently, dropping the finisher.
"Just say it. I got it all, can do it all. Be my disciple, and post-grad, I'll cut you trade company shares."
I genuinely wavered. Screw Iris—go here? This married prof suddenly the world's hottest goddess.
'……Should I ask if I can suck her toes?'
Drool pooled. Lips twitched unconsciously.
'Can I call you sis……?'
Inner voice nearly blurted aloud. Stop. She's married!
……Married makes it hotter? I'm capital's top delinquent anyway? Nah, she's chasing me……
……Fuck.
'What the hell am I even thinking?'