Chapter 30
Turning a mere idea about women into reality was never easy. Every detail demanded attention, meticulous adjustments, the resolve of a beast, and terrifying execution. And Count Albio Yurtel possessed it all.
"I need equipment and manpower to set up the lottery system, Tower Master Kalanis."
The count bulldozed through the work. He temporarily closed my fortune-telling shop and pushed forward at a ferocious pace, producing regional currency, printing presses, and a full lottery system in just a few weeks. As a bonus, he made the drawings public spectacles in Yurtel's central square, turning them into entertaining shows everyone could watch and enjoy.
At the same time, the count sought out luxury craftsmen and goldsmiths.
"I need thin, durable tickets made of gold. Price doesn't matter. Make them as luxurious as possible—something people would want to collect just by looking at them."
Thin gold tickets were crafted. No flashy ornaments or decorations—just one thing engraved on them: the crest of Yurtel territory. That simple, elegant design made the tickets feel even more premium.
Before a month had passed, the count launched a dual-track system. Yurtel's regional currency fused with the lottery. And exclusive consultation tickets for VIPs with the Great Seer.
"Let's see how this goes!"
These two ambitious systems exploded in success almost immediately.
"...So, I could just pay with runes, but using this regional currency lets me enjoy tourism around Yurtel, right?"
"Yes, exactly! That's right, sir."
"And every evening, we draw ten winners for consultations with the Great Seer?"
"Precisely! Check the serial number on the back of the currency. If it matches, you'll win a consultation with the Great Seer tomorrow!"
"Ten out of every batch... not bad odds."
It was a monstrous hit. My name value, forged in the public debate with Iris, was far greater than I'd imagined. The mere possibility of consulting with me drew massive crowds, all eagerly buying up the regional currency. As the count had said, even if you didn't win the draw, it was just a voucher for fun and food around the tourist spots.
Yurtel's tourists surged explosively after the currency launch, naturally boosting smiles among local merchants, innkeepers, and restaurant owners.
"The final number is 30-BAC-209100! Congratulations! Our last winner of the evening!"
Every evening, massive crowds flooded the central square for the grand drawings. Winning numbers flashed instantly on electronic billboards across Yurtel. All I had to do was consult with those ten lucky ones the next day.
Of course, I benefited too. Freed from dozens of consultations a day, I could now handle a leisurely number, enabling deeper sessions. Satisfaction among the lucky ten skyrocketed. And Yurtel's revenues exploded.
"Since we're already touring Yurtel, wouldn't it be better to meet the Great Seer before leaving?"
People bought more currency than usual with that mindset. If they lost the draw, they couldn't just toss it—they'd spend it all in Yurtel instead. The structure guaranteed booming income.
Thanks to that one regional lottery currency, everyone in Yurtel was happy. But neither the count nor I saw this success as a big deal. Why? Because Yurtel's tourism boost was mere pocket change compared to...
"Count, is this really the revenue from VIP consultation ticket sales?"
"Jealousy is a fearsome thing, Great Seer Aiden. Especially when owning something marks you as elite. The rich will pay absurd sums."
Right after the debate with Iris, high society was no different—interest in me exploded.
"Tower Master Kalanis consulted the Great Seer and developed a hair loss cure."
"Oh my, really?"
"And who's the only one? You know Boyer Wilhelm Dor, chairman of the Wilhelm Dor Group?"
"Chairman Boyer?"
"He brags about consulting the Great Seer all the time."
"Goodness. I thought he didn't believe in fortune-telling or fate."
"The Great Seer is different. I consulted him once too—it's so comforting. Beyond knowing your past and future precisely, his speech and demeanor are just soothing."
But it was just explosive interest, not everyone rushing to see me. Some treated it as juicy gossip, others eyed my obsessive fans weirdly.
"I'm quite content right now, so I don't think I need a consultation."
Some simply weren't interested.
But the moment VIP consultation tickets appeared—and went on auction— even the disinterested were forced to care.
At first, only my high-society fans bid.
"10,000 runes! Sold for 10,000 runes!"
Once a week, five gold tickets sold. Modest sums for nobility and elites.
But then...
"Chairman Boyer met the Great Seer, right?"
"Correct, Your Excellency."
"And Tower Master Kalanis boasts about meeting him and developing that hair loss drug... Hmm. Now I'm curious. They're auctioned, you say?"
"Yes."
"Secure all five this week, even at a premium. Time for a family trip to Yurtel. I need to ask about my son's academy admission. And my business."
Hearing about Boyer and Kalanis, tycoons from politics and business started premium-bidding. Everything changed.
"Your skills are impeccable, your efforts diligent, your talent outstanding. But skip the cherries served as snacks the night before the academy exam, young master. They'll give you stomach trouble and make you fail."
"And me? I'm diversifying into flour business lately. Will it succeed?"
"Your business will succeed, Duke. But watch the people. Direction is right, but there's a rat."
"...A rat?"
"Audit your warehouse managers. You'll understand. Especially the one with a mole near his face."
"You mean Philip? My logistics company president?"
"In his home study, there's a landscape painting of a fancy oak tree by the desk. Lift it—a safe. Code: 10-98-71-56. Check the ledger inside. Clean him out before entering flour business, or it'll be rough."
A duke, an imperial high official, a grand duke—these three titans consulted me in turn, leaving in shock. Afterward...
"Five tickets a week?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Sweep them all. Money's no object. Consultations with the Great Seer are worth more."
They became fervent auction bidders. Kalanis and Boyer rejoined. Rumors spread, drawing even the indifferent elite. Meeting me? Not crucial. But associating with what elites craved stroked their egos.
"Accidents keep happening at my territory's lab? Time to ask why."
Practical buyers.
"The marquis is getting a ticket? Perfect. I needed to pay respects anyway."
Bribers or courtesy buyers.
And oddly...
"Oh, is this the ticket? So luxurious!"
"Consultations aren't at the shop anymore. They're in the Great Seer's hotel suite."
"No way... Baroness, you have one, right? Everyone carries at least one."
"Of course. I have one too."
Some bought just because they looked pretty and premium.
All these factors mixed, imbuing my tickets in high society with meaning: a privilege for the truly rich and powerful. A prize only the empire's top 1% could seize with wealth.
Once meaning attached, pride kicked in. And pride-fueled rivalry always overheated.
"500,000 runes."
"1 million runes. Sorry, I need them today. Wife's nagging for one."
"1.5 million. Apologies, Marquis. My wife insists. Haha."
Those who won and used them became even more fanatical bidders.
"Life feels empty. Marriage rocky, kids eyeing my fortune..."
Beings who knew past and future exactly—no need for long stories. People spilled secrets too hard to voice.
"I'm anxious. My new single album doesn't fit mainstream trends, per the label. But I believe in my music. Still, sales flop? Career damage?"
Anxiety over futures.
Whatever the reason, I satisfied them all. Comfort for some, new directions for others, warnings or scoldings for more. Some cried, raged, left stunned—but all craved more. Once they tasted my real power, nothing compared.
And so it was complete.
"I'm sending an aide to the Great Seer. Thinking of sending my daughter."
"Oh my! Did you win a ticket?"
"Hehe, yes. She pulled some strings."
"So jealous. When will I win one?"
"Bought two. Want one?"
"...Really?"
"Of course. Just watch our label's singer on the show."
"Naturally! For such a treasure."
My tickets became a new currency in high society. Back when the count issued queue numbers as bribes, it was small-scale. Now? Uncomparable.
As the proverb goes: blessings in disguise. Iris's provocation and debate transformed my life. I consulted leisurely, rested properly. Yurtel boomed from tickets and tourists. And the count?
"Count Yurtel, need to meet the Great Seer. Can you get me a ticket?"
"I'll back you at the southern nobles' meeting. Deal?"
"Need logistics? I'll contract cheap at market rate."
From fending off aggressive VIP reservation demands, he became high society's super-alpha. Ticket producer privilege was no joke.
Power-tripping rich jerks?
"Marquis, we must revoke your auction eligibility. The Great Seer is furious."
"Sorry, Count Yurtel. I apologize. Got desperate..."
A solid system plus its imposed meaning left them powerless. Boyer's words rang true. I had power now—I just hadn't known how to wield it.
Everything improved. Not a single issue...
"Great Seer? Invitations from high society."
"Lady Drmalin sent another love letter. Insists you read it."
"Aiden, another marriage proposal. Grand duke's granddaughter. Want to meet?"
I hope my gift box reached you, Great Seer.
The contents are my worn underwear. Infused with my love.
W.H.
P.S. The panties might still be a bit damp.
...Not a single one.
"Mirien? What's wrong?"
"I smell another woman's scent on you."
"Haha, consulted the duke's granddaughter today. She doused herself in perfume."
"Did you like it?"
"Pardon?"
"Does meeting women other than me feel good?"
There was one. A pretty serious problem.
Problems with women—unheard of in my past or present life—began tormenting me.