I Screwed Up
"Kyahahahaha!"
Celia pounded the table, laughing so hard she could barely stay upright.
"You were incredible, Leon! Did you see that guy's face? By the end he couldn't even get his mouth open properly!"
After the matchmaking was over, we'd relocated to a nearby tavern. Celia had promised to pick up the tab, so I'd tagged along — but there was one piece of business I needed settled first.
"More importantly, how about we lock down that bonus you promised."
"I know, I know, I'm actually giving it to you! You think I've got it in me to stiff you for thirty gold coins?"
"Verbal contracts are the scariest kind, you know."
"You don't trust me right now?"
"The least trustworthy thing in the world is a promise made with nothing but words. Money matters need to be locked down."
"I cannot believe you."
Celia snickered, then suddenly grabbed me by the shoulder.
"Khheheh... where on earth did a lucky charm like you roll in from!"
And just like that, she yanked me into her arms.
"Wh—?!"
Fwump.
My vision went dark in an instant.
Damn. Those are huge.
"I-I can't breathe...!"
"Khheheheh."
"I'm actually going to die!"
By the time I finally wrenched myself free, Celia was topping off her glass like nothing had happened.
"Here."
A cup slid across the table and stopped in front of me.
"Cheers."
"...Cheers."
I accepted the glass with both hands, turned slightly away, and downed it in one go.
Celia blinked.
"Never seen that drinking style before. Where's that from?"
"It's the standard method in a country called South Korea."
"You sure know a lot about that. It's not like you had time for a proper education."
"Just picked it up somewhere."
Celia nodded, not a shred of suspicion on her face.
The liquor was stronger than I'd expected. The heat running from my throat down into my stomach caught me off guard at first, but after a few swallows it went down well enough. From there we just sipped and talked about this and that, and eventually the conversation drifted, naturally enough, to the Lich.
"—And from watching that, you figured out the necromantic mana was linked separately?"
"Once you look long enough, you notice."
More precisely, the AI had noticed. But still.
"So I converted all the linked mana into fuel for fireballs and burned it out."
"Easy to say... you do realize that's the kind of discovery that belongs in a textbook, right?"
"What's weirder, by my standards, is that nobody figured it out until now."
"Ha. Look at the genius over here. I mean it."
Celia laughed like she didn't know whether to be impressed or exasperated, and took another sip.
"More than that, though — learning from Iris today, magic was actually pretty fun."
"Which part?"
"The process of locking in an attribute with an Elemental Formula, then bolting the rest on with Magic Formulas."
I popped a piece of the meat they'd brought as a drinking snack into my mouth.
"It made me wonder why anyone would bother sticking to existing spells. Mix and match enough of those pieces and you could build something completely new, right?"
Celia rolled her glass in slow circles.
"Other mages aren't idiots. That idea's been around as long as magic itself."
"Yeah, I figured."
"Every combination worth trying has already been tried. Stack more propulsion formulas, crank output and compression to the extreme. The question is whether you can actually use the result."
"Because of the calculations?"
"That, and mana efficiency. The more complex the formula gets, the more the whole thing falls apart from the tiniest error."
Celia flicked a glance at me.
"But you might be different."
"Why's that?"
"You've got that monster brain that slapped continuous trajectory formulas onto thirty Ki-Blasts at the same time."
"..."
I set my glass down.
"Tsk. I should've asked for a higher rate."
"Hihihi."
Celia grinned.
"And who's gonna pay you that~?"
"Let's rewrite the contract."
"Nooope! You already stamped it~"
Cheapskate.
After that, the conversation wandered into thoroughly pointless territory. How the food at the Tower was holding up. How Hermann had a way of nagging that snuck up on you. How Celia had blown the roof off her family manor as a child during a magic experiment. I nodded along at the right moments and mixed in a healthy dose of flattery.
Why?
Because there was a bonus on the line. Work the mouth a little and who knows? She might throw in a little extra later.
"A beauty of the Director's caliber must have been exceptional at magic even as a child."
"Why'd you tack 'beauty' onto that?"
"That's the important part."
"You've got a way with words."
Even so, it was more fun than I'd expected. I couldn't remember the last time I'd sat with someone and laughed over conversation that didn't mean a thing. For eighteen years I hadn't had the money or the time to drink with anyone. Having someone ask what I'd done today, laughing together over nothing in particular — it had been a long, long time.
Celia spotted my empty glass and lifted the bottle.
"Want another?"
"If it's the beautiful Director pouring, I'll take as many as you've got."
"Khheheh. Somebody really wants that bonus, huh?"
"I like people who catch on fast."
One glass.
Two.
Three.
Somewhere around there, my tongue started getting tangled.
"Heheheh..."
Celia propped her chin on the table and smiled at me, slow and loose.
"Leon... we should... go somewhere else... yeah...?"
"L-let's gooooo!!!!"
And so, round two.
"This is... actually expensive booze...?!"
Celia gave the bottle a proud little shake.
"One bottle costs... uh... anyway, it's expensive!"
"I shall gratefully partake...!!"
Round three.
"The skewers here... they're really good, y'know...?"
"L-LEEEET'S GOOOOO!!!!"
"Kyahahaha! Let's gooooo!"
And then round four.
"Uhihihihi..."
Celia grabbed my face in both hands.
"Leon's got twoooo faces~!"
"Diz...zy..."
"Which one's the real Leon...?"
"Dunno..."
We drank so much I couldn't even remember how much we'd poured down. After that, nothing.
The next morning.
Iris stood in front of Leon's door with the day's textbook tucked under one arm. In her other hand was a small paper bag. Cookies. She'd baked them herself last night.
"...He'll like them, right?"
She wondered if she'd baked a bit too many. Then again, after watching him eat yesterday, leftover cookies didn't seem like a real concern.
Iris fussed with her clothes for no particular reason, then knocked.
Knock, knock.
"Leon? I'm here."
No answer. She waited a moment and knocked again, but the silence held. Thinking he might still be asleep, she tried the handle — and found, oddly, that it wasn't locked.
"I'm coming in, okay?"
She eased the door open.
"...?"
Nobody was there. The bed was still made. The books on the desk sat exactly where they'd been left yesterday. There wasn't a single sign that anyone had come back during the night.
Iris's gaze lingered for a moment.
"...Leon?"
Nothing.
Her fingers tightened around the paper bag.
"Where did he go...?"
The cookies. I worked so hard on them.
"Nngh..."
I'm dying.
My head was pounding before I even got my eyes open.
"Aigoo... my head..."
Maybe this was what I got for drinking properly for the first time since my past life. The aftereffects were no joke. What I wouldn't give for a steaming bowl of spicy rice soup loaded with chili flakes right about now.
I clutched my skull for a while before I finally managed to pry my eyes open.
"More importantly... where the hell am I?"
I'd never seen that ceiling before. The walls, the curtains, the bed I was lying in — all of it was unfamiliar. This was definitely not my dorm room.
I tried to rewind last night, but everything after round four was a clean wipe.
"...I blacked out completely."
My mouth was bone-dry.
"Water..."
Hoping there might be a bottle on the nightstand, I reached out.
Patting. Groping.
Soft.
"..."
My hand stopped. That was not a table. Thinking it might be a pillow, I pressed again.
Soft.
"...Soft?"
That was when a small breath sounded right beside me.
"Huff... huff..."
I turned my head, slowly.
Silver hair spilled across the pillow. And beneath it, a familiar face, dead to the world.
"Hnnnngh— fuuuuuh..."
Celia.
In nothing but her underwear.
"..."
Okay. Situation report.
Last night: drinking. Round four. Memory: gone. Unfamiliar room. Same bed. Celia in her underwear.
Don't tell me...
No. No way. A person doesn't turn into an animal just because they had a few drinks.
I carefully lifted the blanket and checked myself first.
Pants: on.
"...Hah."
Thank god.
...No. Wait.
Wearing pants doesn't exactly prove nothing happened.
AI.
[Standing by.]
You got anything recorded from last night?
[The user's audiovisual records are not stored separately.]
Fat lot of good you are. You'd think they'd throw in a black box function for situations exactly like this.
I started easing myself off the bed, making as little sound as possible. Get out first. Figure out what happened later.
I had one leg halfway over the edge when—
"Mmh..."
"..."
The sheets rustled behind me.
"Uugh... my head..."
Celia's eyes opened, slowly. Her unfocused gaze blinked a few times, then found me frozen at the edge of the bed.
"Ah, Leon..."
"Fuck."
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
Celia rubbed her eyes and pushed herself up.
"..."
I snapped my head the other way. A moment later she seemed to take stock of her own condition; she grabbed the blanket and pulled it up to her chest.
"...A little embarrassing."
"..."
A little?
That's all you've got for a reaction?
I'd have an easier time reading the room if she'd just gotten angry.
I tried to drag last night back up from wherever it had drowned. Drinking. Skewers. Two of my face. End of tape.
Fuck. I couldn't remember a single thing.
"...Director."
"Hm?"
"What exactly did I do last night?"
Celia blinked.
"You don't remember?"
"No."
"Nothing at all?"
"Everything after round four is gone. The whole block."
"...Oh-ho."
Oh-ho? What the hell is oh-ho.
The corner of Celia's mouth ticked up.
"Heh. Last night was incredible."
"...Excuse me?"
"You were really good."
My mind went white.
Good at what. Good at WHAT.
"I... was?"
"Mm. Honestly, I didn't expect much when you said it was your first time."
"..."
First time. Didn't expect much. But I was good.
The words were assembling themselves in a very, very fucked-up direction.
"D-Director."
"What?"
"Could you be more specific about what exactly I was good at..."
Celia huffed a little laugh.
"You really don't remember?"
"..."
"After you worked so hard last night?"
"...I'm fucked."
And she didn't stop there. She eased the blanket down a little and slowly stroked her stomach.
"Ahh, what am I going to do."
"...About what?"
"Of all nights, last night had to be a dangerous day..."
"...?"
Celia looked up at me and smiled, sweet as anything.
"..."
Two thousand gold coins. A three-year contract. I'd thought those were pretty decent terms.
"I am so fucking screwed."
Looks like that three-year contract was about to turn into a lifetime one.
"...The defeat is humiliating. I won't deny it."
The blond man set down his wineglass.
"But I have no choice but to admit it. That boy was truly remarkable."
Every gaze around the table gathered on him at once. He had just finished recounting everything that had happened at last night's matchmaking with the Director of the White Magic Tower. The people who had first taken it for a joke were no longer laughing.
"Hold on a moment."
Someone asked, as if they couldn't quite believe it.
"You're saying that boy had only been learning magic for five days?"
"He said so himself."
"And you believed him?"
"Belief has nothing to do with it."
The blond man smiled, bitter and thin.
"The fact remains that I lost to an eighteen-year-old boy."
For him to concede a loss so readily was rare in itself. Which only meant that last night had shaken him that badly.
A woman who had been listening in silence finally spoke, her voice unhurried.
"There was a more interesting detail mixed in with all that."
The eyes around the table turned to her. Long, pale-blond hair. Even the way she turned her wineglass with her fingertips was perfectly composed, not a motion out of place.
"The lover of the White Magic Tower's Director, was it?"
The blond man's expression tightened, just slightly.
"...So I was told."
"Celia?"
"She said so herself."
The woman's eyes narrowed.
"An eighteen-year-old boy?"
"I found it hard to believe myself."
A brief silence settled. Then the woman laughed, quietly.
"...How interesting."
"What is?"
"All of it."
Only five days of learning magic. He had crushed a Grand Magus candidate in a Formula Q&A, and Celia, Director of the White Magic Tower, had introduced him as her lover. An unidentified boy. He stood out far too much.
The woman set down her glass.
"Perhaps I'll pay a visit. It's been a while."
The blond man frowned.
"To the White Magic Tower?"
"Mm."
"And what do you intend to do there? Don't tell me you mean to challenge the boy to a Formula Q&A."
Only then did she smile, as if the thought had just occurred to her.
"Ah, did I not mention?"
She rose from her seat, unhurried.
"My little sister happens to be there."
"...Your sister?"
"Iris Meyrud."
The blond man's eyes widened slightly. As if it were nothing of note, the woman tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear.
Her name was Zenith Meyrud. Legitimate heir of House Meyrud — and the older half-sister Iris Meyrud had spent her entire life measuring herself against.
Zenith's lips curved, just faintly.
"It's been a while since I last saw her face, anyway."
More than that — she was a little curious about the boy who'd beaten a Grand Magus candidate after five days of learning magic.
