The Slave Contract

"Cadet Orknodi. As I thought, that discerning eye of yours was practically made for a chivalrous thief."

"Me??"

"How about it? Won't you become my direct disciple?"

"When people say 'direct disciple,' doesn't that usually mean becoming a graduate student?"

"A graduate student? In the sense that you continue delving into deeper enlightenments even after completing your major studies, I suppose that isn't wrong."

Ah, I messed up.

In front of a professor, you're supposed to do just moderately well. But I did way too well, and now I've been stamped right onto her radar!

"No way in hell!!"

I desperately wanted to hit her with a resolute refusal, but doing that would invite far worse trouble down the road.

"In whose presence do you think you are raising your voice? How dare you not only reject the kindness offered by me, a professor, but act insolent on top of it?"

If an answer like that came back, my GPA would be completely screwed from that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠day forward.

"I feel like that would be a bit too overwhelming for me. I'm still very young, and I have such a timid personality, you see."

"Coy feigning is a proper qualification for a chivalrous thief as well."

"I'm way too lazy, so I really don't think I'm cut out for it. I'm already taking tons of lectures, and I'm at an age where I just want to play with my friends!"

"Once you become a righteous rogue, all the treasures of the world can be your friends. Playing around by stealing other people's treasures is even more delightful. That is a joy you can relish once you become my disciple."

"I'll... think about it."

"Think it over carefully until our next lecture."

Only after flashing an ambiguous smile was I finally able to escape Professor Bronze's den.

The efficiency of skill EXP gains is insane, but something feels off. There's no way a professor would be this gentle.

I had heard plenty of tales about professors treating poor undergraduates to a single warm meal only to entrap them as graduate student slaves. This had to be a sinister ploy to seduce me with skill EXP!

Still... what if she offers another insanely sweet event like this next week? Could I just take the loot and run? But what if I bite the bait and get locked into being a disciple—a graduate student?

Wrestling with countless agonizing dilemmas, I distanced myself from the research building.

Diligent students who had crammed their entire course schedules into Monday through Thursday were now basking in freedom on Friday.

"I'm starving."

"I feel like I could chew on rocks right now."

"Hey, doesn't that patch of grass over there look kind of appetizing?"

Freedom to starve, that is.

Without lectures, there were few opportunities to earn Points, and the students were drenched in deep longing.

"I miss the custard dishes we had every evening..."

"From now on, I'll never commit the impudence of skipping a banquet just because I'm full..."

"I even miss those hot, heavy petticoats. I just want to hang out with the friends I made at dinner parties..."

Naturally, these were the luxurious gripes of imperial nobles. Passing frontier nobles who overheard their grumbling merely snorted.

"Let them whine all day. It's not like Points are just going to drop out of the sky."

"Watch out! Hey, freshmen down there!"

"Huh?"

"I accidentally dropped a batch of contracts worth ten thousand points each! Whatever you do, don't pick them up!"

Points were literally raining from the sky!

Though one might expect the imperial nobles to scramble and snatch the fluttering sheets, they reacted with surprising wariness, tucking their hands behind their backs instead. Even if they spent their idle moments whining about luxury as if their heads were stuffed with flowers, they were still nobles. Raised under the strict household ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠discipline and private tutoring of aristocratic families, they had been told countless times never to touch a suspicious contract.

Still, I'm curious.

Arcadia's curiosity was piqued.

This was a girl who, every summer, boarded warships to beat the heat by blowing pirate ships to splinters with cannonballs just for the refreshing thrill. She hardly believed taking a peek at a measly contract would cause any disaster, so she reached out toward one of the drifting papers.

"Don't!"

"Orknodi?"

Passing by, Orknodi sprinted over at full speed and yanked back the hand about to seize the parchment.

"Oh, Di! No matter how glad you are to see me, it is terribly unbecoming for a young lady to go around throwing her arms around people so familiarly in front of strangers."

"You're the one who was about to do something disastrous, Arcadia! That contract is enchanted with Forced Thumbprint Imprinting magic—whoever grabs it will be forced to press their thumb onto the designated line!"

"What?!"

Arcadia snapped to attention and glanced around. Sure enough, a student who had thoughtlessly caught a contract was frantically trying to press their thumb onto it.

"Freshmen, look out! I accidentally dropped registered seal stamps that hold legal binding power under academy bylaws if they touch your fingers!"

An upperclassman holding no fewer than ten official stamp pads tossed them out the window.

"Aaaargh! My body is moving on its own!"

"Somebody stop me!"

"Why is this guy so strong?! Hey, you, get over here and help hold him back!"

"Stay still! You're about to press your thumb onto a shady contract!"

Freshmen dashed frantically, their eyes locked onto the ink pads. Watching the pitiful sight of the Lower Class students, Arcadia was seized with shock.

"How could so-called seniors do something so heinous?!"

"Calm down, Arcadia. The other party is a second-year. If you go after them carelessly, you'll only end up getting targeted."

While holding back their peers who were going berserk trying to stamp the contracts, other students stole glances at the contents of the parchment.

"Why is this contract so legit?"

"Wait, does it actually pay Points?"

"Isn't this low-key an amazing deal? The method is kind of creepy and unpleasant, but it means even if we're bad at studying, we have a way to earn Points."

"If I haul just fifty kilograms of sand, that's five points—a whole meal!"

"And wouldn't it count as weight training too?"

While the impoverished Lower Class students hesitated, the first student to have touched a contract smeared ink onto their thumb and pressed it down. Not wanting to miss out, other students exchanged glances before lunging and squabbling over the remaining contracts scattered across the ground.

"Di. Even I find myself tempted by that contract."

"Don't be fooled. How could you just enter a contract without even knowing the market value of the goods?"

"It isn't that. If I acquire that contract, I can learn in advance which materials second-years require. If I monopolize those specific goods, I can name any price I want... Hehehe."

Ack, Arcadia is terrifying!

When Orknodi made a frightened face, Arcadia felt a pang in her heart, worried she was being disliked.

"Ah! Don't make such a frightened face, Di. I merely recalled a bit of my experience helping out with family affairs. As always, I am your gentle, darling big sister, aren't I?"

Regrettably, she decided to give up on the contract for now. She could let Orknodi go on her way and obtain one later through the Western Noble Coalition's Lower Class qualifiers. Although she was the only female student from the Coalition to enter the Upper Class, a considerable number had passed into the Lower Class.

It was a good thing I stopped by, having kept an eye out for this early-game random event that usually popped up around this time. Arcadia had nearly been turned into a slave!

At a glance, that contract looked like an honest job offering poor students a livelihood and work, but it was an outright scam.

Second-year Bellocasio.

A Lawful Evil character from the 980th cohort—one year senior to the 981st—he was a vile scoundrel who relentlessly exploited students using the clauses of contracts he drafted himself. He flipped the materials delivered by students to third parties at double or triple the price, and whenever someone grew discontented and started rebelling, he showed them terrifying reality.

Clause: If Party B fails to supply the materials within the deadline set by Party A, Party B shall pay double the penalty or fulfill punitive damages.

Whenever a supplier crossed him, Bellocasio would assign astronomical supply quotas paired with ridiculously short deadlines.

The right of refusal could only be exercised three times a year.

Supply requests could be issued once every week.

Once three weeks passed, the supplier was contractually obligated to fulfill the request on the fourth week—a literal devil's pact.

According to the delivery schedule sorted by weight, materials exceeding one hundred kilograms had to be delivered within a week. Students who initially assumed that clause was meant for heavy goods like sand were thrown into utter shock when they saw a quota demanding over a hundred kilograms of rare items.

"There's no way anyone could ever find something like this!"

"Please, just cut me some slack once!"

Even if they somehow managed to acquire the items, in the absence of favorable compensation terms, their only recourse was appealing to the Student Council. But could freshmen—already struggling to survive the incoming tempest of assignments scheduled to hit next week—possibly find the time to draft petitions, schedule dispute mediation, and navigate bureaucratic red tape?

Most wouldn't even know such options existed.

Long before that, successive minor delivery failures would saddle them with gag orders, confidentiality obligations, and compounding punitive fees. Legally illiterate students could only suffer helplessly.

When even noble students would shudder and curse their terrible luck upon falling into such a trap, what hope did uneducated commoners have? They were literally reduced to slaves. In exchange for waiving the colossal indemnity, they became supply slaves—providing every requested item without pay for a designated period, barely guaranteed room and board.

I'll have to teach that jerk a lesson eventually, but since he hasn't fully revealed his true colors yet, is it better to leave him alone for now?

I went off to dig around the nearby beach for Stat Stones buried in the sand. On my way back, I spotted Arcadia and Giselle engaged in deep conversation near the dormitory.

"It seems the young lady has returned from building sandcastles."

"My goodness. How can our Di be so utterly adorable?"

"What are you two up to?"

"We are discussing business. It is likely still a rather difficult topic for Lady Orknodi."

"Observing our seniors' business model inspired a rather profitable revenue model that we could adopt ourselves."

...Suddenly, what these two were plotting became far more terrifying than whatever the upperclassmen were doing.

Just what kind of havoc was Giselle—the man who had already caused absolute chaos with the fake flags—planning to unleash this time?