Mom, I Got a Job

The dorm room the White Magic Tower had assigned me was in the western annex of the main building.

A bed, a desk, a wardrobe. A small sofa sat by the window, and there was even a bathroom attached to one side of the room.

"I get this place all to myself?"

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠staff member guiding me nodded.

"This is the standard lodging provided to Rookie Climbers."

"Nobody else is going to move in or anything?"

"It's been assigned to you personally. No one will enter without your permission."

Only then did I step inside.

In eighteen years of life, I had never had a space I could call my own. At the orphanage where I'd spent my childhood, eight kids shared a single room. After I was thrown out, I drifted through alleys and abandoned buildings. Even when I got lucky and found an empty warehouse, some other beggar would usually show up within a few days. When luck ran worse, the building owner or a city guard found me first.

But this place was different. No one was going to show up and tell me to clear out. No one was going to steal my things while I slept.

"My room…"

It had a nice ring to it. After reincarnating, I'd figured that was a phrase I'd never get to use again.

"Guess living long enough really does pay off."

"Shut it."

I laid out the items I'd been issued on the bed. Two sets of new clothes. Toiletries. An identification badge engraved with the White Magic Tower's crest.

My name was written on the badge.

I hadn't so much as set a toe inside the Tower, and somehow I was already a Climber. I flipped the badge over a few times, then hung it around my neck.

"Looks pretty legit. This is a total life turnaround."

"I got a job, didn't I?"

"And I got a room."

The AI clearly didn't understand what a life turnaround meant. Getting richer wasn't the only way a life could improve.

"Listen, AI. Having a place that keeps the rain off, three guaranteed meals a day, and somewhere to go when you wake up tomorrow — that is worth a hell of a lot more than two copper coins. You getting this?"

"Is that really the right metaphor?"

I waited a long time, but no answer came. Annoying little bastard. If I'd known it was going to be like this, I would've bought a more expensive model back when I was alive.

"Anyway…"

I set my hand on the bed. My palm sank right into it.

"Whoa."

I threw myself onto it, and my back disappeared into the mattress. No jagged rocks digging into my spine. No need to curl up and make myself small to avoid someone else's claimed spot. The blanket was clean, too. I brought my nose close, but there was no mold, no smell of sweat.

"Life turnaround complete!"

"It is a turnaround."

"Could put a little more heart into it."

That evening, I ate two bowls of soup and four pieces of bread at the cafeteria. Oh — and there was meat in it! Completely different from whatever they'd served that morning. It was genuinely delicious. So I went back for seconds three more times, and the staff member did give me a look, but they still handed it over. Snacks were unlimited, they'd said, so three extra bowls of soup were apparently within acceptable range.

After returning to my room, I headed straight for the bathroom. I reeked, for one thing, and I needed something to commemorate the end of my beggar days. And more than anything else—

Hot water. For free…!

I turned the handle, and warm water poured out. Someone had explained that groundwater was heated with magic tools, or that purification magic was cast on the drainage pipes — I'd only half-listened. Who cared? People washed just fine without knowing any of that.

I scrubbed myself down several times, then changed into the new clothes. That alone made me feel like a different person.

"…Heh."

Breakfast tomorrow. Lunch, too. Dinner as well. Was having a job really this good?

Suddenly, I missed my mom.

"Mom, I got a job."

"This thing always has to kill the mood."

Still, now that it mentioned it, I was a little curious. What did the person who'd given birth to me in this world even look like?

The next morning, after finishing breakfast, I followed the instructions of the staff member from yesterday and headed to the training grounds behind the main building. Before entering the Tower tomorrow, they wanted to confirm what attack magic each of us could use. Something about how it would be a problem to run into monsters without knowing what the person next to you was capable of.

Fair enough, I guess. Basically, check whether the guy beside you was fire-attribute or water-attribute.

When I arrived at the training grounds, twelve people had gathered, myself included. Most of us were strangers to each other, so only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brief greetings were exchanged — asking which family someone came from, what school of magic they primarily used. Fortunately, no one dug into my past. Family? I'd been a beggar until yesterday. I had no desire to advertise that.

"Everyone's here."

An instructor in a white robe stepped forward with a roster in hand. Behind him, stone targets the height of a person stood in a row.

"Today we confirm usable attack magic. State the spells you can cast, then demonstrate one of them."

The first rookie stepped forward.

"I can use Flame Lance, Blazing Orb, and Fire Barrier."

He swung his staff, and a crimson spear buried itself in a target. With a thunderous crack, half the stone mass was blasted away.

The next person split a target clean open with an Ice Lance. Someone using Wind Blades sliced through thick stone at an angle. There was even a spell that chained lightning together and incinerated three targets at once. Everyone seemed to know at least four attack spells. They'd all said they were magic academy graduates — memorizing all of that and calculating the formulas by hand to cast them. Apparently magic academies weren't places just anyone graduated from.

"Next. Iris."

"Yes."

A woman with long, pale-gold hair stepped forward. Her uniform, a mix of white and blue, carried more ornamentation than anyone else's. The way people naturally made room for her suggested she was someone of considerable reputation.

Up close, her face was quite beautiful — clean, refined features, fair skin. Just standing there, she radiated the air of a noble young lady. Living on the streets, I'd never had occasion to see someone like her this close, so the novelty was understandable. Then again, being pretty didn't put food on the table.

"Usable attack magic?"

"My primary spells are Freezing Lance, Frost Blade, Mana Bullet, Storm Orb, and Fireball."

A few more followed after that, but I stopped listening halfway through. None of them were spells I could use anyway.

"Demonstrate one of them."

"I'll show you Freezing Lance."

Iris raised her staff. Blue mana gathered at the tip, then transformed into eight ice lances hanging in midair. The instructor dropped his hand, and the lances fired simultaneously. One after another — papapang! — each target took a hit. Cold mist blanketed the training ground floor, and when it cleared, not a single target was left standing intact.

The instructor nodded with satisfaction.

"Precise mana distribution and a fast cast speed. Excellent."

"Thank you."

The training continued. Flames bloomed, stone pillars erupted from the ground, and razor-sharp winds raked across their targets. Watching the targets get restored only to be shattered again almost immediately, the two spells I knew started to feel a little pathetic.

"Leon."

My name was called last. The instructor looked down at the roster.

"Usable attack magic?"

"Fireball and Chogitan."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

A few people glanced my way, but no one said anything. There were people who spent their whole lives mastering a single spell, supposedly. They probably figured I was that type. In reality, I'd learned both less than two days ago.

"Which will you use?"

"I'll go with Chogitan."

At the instructor's gesture, the stone targets lowered and eight round iron plates rose in their place. Different heights, facing different directions.

I raised my hand.

"AI. Pull up the path."

Red lines connected the iron plates.

Compared to hitting thirty targets yesterday, this was simple.

"Go."

Bang!

A Chogitan shot from my hand. The light punched through the first iron plate without losing speed, then curved. It passed through the second target, bent again, and threaded the remaining plates one after another — plates scattered front to back, high and low. No forced turns. No mid-flight wobble. It flew as smoothly as if it had been following a single path from the start.

Ssshhk.

The Chogitan pierced the final plate and vanished against the barrier wall. Eight targets, each left with a fist-sized hole.

"He hit all of them."

"Incredible accuracy."

"But the destructive power's nothing special."

I more or less agreed. Everyone else's attacks had blown their targets to pieces. My Chogitan had just left little holes.

Tch… I feel like I could do better if I tried again.

"Instructor. May I try one more time?"

"……"

The instructor didn't answer. He walked up to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the first iron plate, inspected the hole, then checked each target in turn all the way to the last.

"Instructor?"

After ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going back and forth between the targets several times, he looked at me with a rigid expression.

"…You…"

Even Iris had risen from her seat at some point.

"…Just now, that was…"

The instructor ran his tongue over his lips, then asked:

"…You said you could use Fireball as well."

"Huh? Uh, yes."

The stone targets rose again — the same kind the other rookies had reduced to rubble earlier.

"Can you show me?"

"Yes, sir."

I held out my palm.

"AI. Prep Fireball."

A red point appeared at the center of the target.

"Go."

Pof!

A fist-sized ball of fire flew toward the target. But there was no explosion. The Fireball punched a clean, round hole straight through the center of the stone target and kept going. Barely any stone dust scattered. The target stood there, unbroken and intact.

"It didn't break."

"Yeah, the firepower really does seem weak."

"Maybe he just doesn't have much mana?"

They weren't wrong. The Chogitan had only left holes in the iron plates, and the Fireball hadn't properly destroyed a single target either.

I really feel like I could nail it if I just got one more try…

"AI. Can you boost the destructive power?"

I looked straight at the instructor.

"Instructor. That last one was a failure. Could I please try just one more time?"

"……"

The instructor didn't answer. He approached the stone target, peered into the hole, then slowly ran his fingers along the edge.

"…This is remarkable."

Iris was staring at the target with much the same expression as before.

"…Heh."

She even laughed. Pretty face, rotten personality, apparently. So what if the destructive power was a little weak? Why crush a guy's spirit over it?

"…Could I try just one more time? I can really do it properly this time."

"…No. This is enough."

The instructor's answer came fast. Just like that, without another chance to try, the confirmation of my attack magic was over. He stared at the perforated stone target for a while, then turned to face the rookies.

"That concludes the confirmation. Next, we proceed with a tactical briefing for the Floor 30 assault."

He pointed to an exit off the side of the training grounds.

"Everyone, move to Conference Room Two."

The rookies filed out one by one. I followed them into the corridor. Not getting another try was a shame, but I could always practice alone later.

I was walking along with that thought when footsteps closed in rapidly from behind.

"You're Leon, correct?"

I turned my head, and Iris was standing right beside me. Up close, she was even prettier than before. Her expression, however, was anything but pleasant.

"Yes, that's me."

Iris bit her lip for a moment, then looked me dead in the eye.

"…Just you wait. Next time, I won't lose."

"What?"

She spun on her heel and strode past me.

"What the hell was that about?"

I stared blankly at her retreating back.