271 - The Investment Pitch

Yoon Si-hu effortlessly caught the swirling fireball. He then unleashed a Carmine Vortex spell, creating a whirlwind that scattered the heat entirely.

They say that mages who have reached a certain realm can gauge an opponent's strength just from the aura they unconsciously wield. Yoon Si-hu hadn't quite attained that level yet, but there was at least one thing he could be certain of.

Compared to Nami, this attack is way too light.

Even the same fire-based magic varied wildly in temperature and power. That's why Yoon Si-hu felt no threat at all from his opponent's parlor-trick spells.

After several failed casts, the boy from Alteer Academy gritted his teeth and charged at Si-hu.

In that moment, when every motion felt like slow motion, a question he'd once asked Nami flashed through his mind: [Why can't I ever take you down?]

It had been a frustrated outburst during grappling lessons, when he'd despaired at his own inadequacies.

[Don't doubt yourself. From what I see, you're doing plenty well enough.]

That wasn't the answer Yoon Si-hu had wanted. But as if to prove it, he tracked the boy's movements, dodged the punch, and precisely grabbed his collar.

"Hngh?!"

Si-hu jammed one arm deep under the boy's armpit, dropped to one knee, and curled his body. It was a flawless hip throw, executed without the slightest hesitation.

"“Wooooaaahhh!”"

That was when the massive cheers from the spectator stands erupted.

The roaring applause cleared his mind of all distractions. Si-hu immediately pivoted on his shoulder, mounted the boy slammed onto the mat, and clenched his fist tight.

He poured every ounce of mana into the portable transmutation circle wand shaped like a glove.

The spell he'd practiced hundreds of times over the past ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠three months with Nami's help unfolded flawlessly. With every swing of his fist, sharp ice spikes formed on the glove, mercilessly pounding the boy's aura barrier.

Crackle-crackle!

This wasn't enough. Recalling his spars with NoName, Si-hu raised his fist again—only for his arm to freeze mid-air.

A chill pierced his lungs, snapping him back to reality. The Alteer boy was already clutching his head with both hands, shivering uncontrollably.

The match was decided.

I actually hit someone for real...!

It wasn't much different from practice, but the weight of a real fight was impossible to ignore. Clutching his pounding chest, Yoon Si-hu followed the referee's guidance to the center of the arena and bowed to the students and teachers.

He had no spare attention for the contrasting expressions of disappointment and joy on the academy principals' faces.

He bolted back to the waiting room like he was fleeing.

Honestly, I think I did pretty well, right?

Heart racing with anticipation for his friends' praise, he hurried down the dim corridor. Knowing I Ha-ru and Kim Hangeol's personalities, they'd probably act like victory was a given.

I wish Yuna would praise me at least.

As always, he held zero expectations for NoName's approval.

With those tangled thoughts, Yoon Si-hu flung open the door to the elementary division second-year waiting room.

"Guys! I won the rehearsal match and... huh?"

No applause or cheers. Just utter indifference, leaving Si-hu dazed.

Wondering if it was a prank, he called out to the kids huddled in the corner.

"Oh? Si-hu's back?"

"Yoon Si-hu, where the heck were you? We were looking everywhere for you."

"I went to... the rehearsal match..."

"Rehearsal? Ohhh! It's already that time? Whoa, sorry...! We totally spaced and missed it!"

"What?"

Si-hu's shoulders slumped at their apologies. Kim Hangeol patted his back encouragingly, but the emotional bruise lingered.

Instead, Yuna took his hand and led him to the TV, melting away his budding sulk in an instant—a fact that struck even him as ridiculous.

"Nami's on TV right now, see?"

"I was on broadcast too, just like her..."

"Ack, ack! Sorryyy. Don't be mad?"

"Fine."

Since Yuna was the one speaking up, he let it slide without further complaint.

Curious what had them so glued, Si-hu glanced at the screen.

"What the heck is that... horns?"

"Yeah... horns. Super wild, right...?"

Reeling from shock and confusion, Si-hu blinked several times. Black horns protruded from above Nami's head. She closed her eyes, lightly channeling aura, and they glowed red-hot like branding irons.

Marshmallows wedged at the tips smoked faintly, crisping to a golden brown. Nami calmly plucked one off and popped it into her mouth, staring straight at the camera with utter nonchalance.

Si-hu decided to accept it then and there. NoName really was utterly unpredictable.

A Broadcasting Review Committee sanction? Perfect noise marketing, if anything. Plus, they could tout their contribution to rare disease treatments as a positive spin for viewers—KBS comes out unscathed too. With the Katsuhata school's investment news dropping at just the right moment, this fledgling startup was gaining massive prestige in record time.

"Our clan leader is truly amazing. Does she have some kind of precognition or what?"

His praise felt a tad excessive, so I quietly sipped my coffee.

Not many used "clan leader" in real life. It was Twitch lingo, after all.

"So, where should we start? Mr. Executive Director?"

"Calling a guy like me 'executive director' feels all wrong... Could you just use my nickname?"

"Here? In a meeting like this?"

He shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Hmm..."

I fiddled with the business card he'd handed me, pondering.

Lee Hyun-seo was an executive director at a top-10 fintech giant by domestic revenue. But his age was the issue—he looked barely late twenties, advanced plastic surgery or not.

I thought he was a scammer at first because of the 'executive' title...

Duworld had shifted from owner-operated to professional management only eight years ago—that was the clue. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠After digging into their share disclosures and unraveling the complex ownership structure, I finally nodded. This guy was Duworld's true owner.

"So, we hope you'll review our company investment positively. NyansterCall-nim."

One of our broadcast's biggest spenders. A die-hard Adella fan.

"Yep! Came for offline support, NoName-nim."

He'd been MIA from streams for months, yet here he was with cash in hand.

"Haha..."

I let out an awkward laugh but straightened my expression. Investor for our cash-strapped company, after all.

"Katsuhata Group stingily only threw in 5 billion. Seeing that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠news, I was thrilled. If I'd known you founded it, I'd have rushed in first to invest."

"Let's start with a step-by-step on our business items."

"Haha, sureee!"

This guy seemed ready to invest blind. No clue what made him so blindly trusting.

I dove into the PPT Baek Ho-chan had prepared, seriously outlining our goals and direction.

"The world calls 'BioAkashic' a bioventure, but the multiple sclerosis treatment is just one piece. Don't get me wrong—it's about differing directions, not viability. Internally, we rate phase 3 trial success at over 99%... Why the grin?"

I asked Lee Hyun-seo, who was chuckling.

"Haha, no reason. Just novel calling a new drug a 'business item.'"

"Is that so? Apologies if the phrasing was off."

"No no! It was cute, that's all. Back to serious mode."

Management really wasn't my thing. That's why I was stuck doing these investor meets instead of CEO Baek Ho-chan, complete with outing permission slips.

If he wasted my time and bailed, I'd haunt his portrait or chuck bricks at him in alleys.

Wrapping up the MS treatment status, we moved to the Demon King's Horn.

The unique magic Demon King's Horn was a spell from my past life, recreating demon horns when mine broke in emergencies. Purely structural—no innate power, just an empty shell. Our company filled it with abilities.

"In short, if the horn is a smartphone, its functions are like apps."

"Apps?"

"Exactly—various editions. Like the simplified casting I used on the Katsuhata heir: just the 'purification' function."

"Hmm... No other features?"

"That's for our team to decide. You saw the rehearsal: mana-to-heat conversion. Endless applications."

"To me, this Demon King's Horn feels more recreational than combat."

"Spot on. Most 3rd Circle spells are. Think single-use toy."

Demons weren't pure warriors. Just humans with horns and weaker family bonds. They used horns as naturally as we use hands.

"We draw circles with hands because they're the most sensitive for mana. Imagine another hand-like organ on your head."

"Then anyone could double-cast, triple-cast."

"Bingo. Planning a 5th Circle pro version. Industrial sites would love it."

No plans to cram every function into one horn. Too profound, like the Aura Heart—endless rabbit holes. But one function per spell? Safe, and we'd near-monopolize unique hardware.

"How much are you investing?"

BioAkashic was at its cheapest now.