Chapter 25

My taste runs to the chunky and cold type, though? A hefty lump of metal covered in dust. I coolly stepped past the pink-haired girl sprawled on the floor and threw my arms around the printing press, which exuded an elegant allure. The cold, heavy touch of metal. Kuuh, this is it. Had my heart ever swelled this much since transmigrating to this world?

'Just once before.' When I'd touched the paper from Daily Caliola. That soft texture had moved me to tears. And now, this was the second time. This sleek, cold body! This weighty heft that seemed ready to churn out print after print without end!

"Haaah……."

"I-Ian, cadet……?"

A trembling voice from behind. Only then did I grab my wandering senses and slowly turn around. The pink-haired Art Department head, Lucy, was sitting on the floor, staring up at me. Her eyes were brimming with grievance. Come to think of it, I'd ignored the department head and bolted straight for the printing press. Had I pissed her off?

"Are you okay, Department Head?"

"……Hmph."

Yep. Properly pissed.

But whether the department head was pissed or not, was that my problem? Right in front of me was this glorious printing press babe. I wasn't her boyfriend—did I really need to soothe her? ...I swallowed those wicked words.

'...I have a duty to soothe her.' Of course I did. That little department head was the true owner of this golden goose.

Get on her bad side here, and my brilliant doujinshi business would fold before it even started. My brain circuits spun faster than a supercomputer. I cranked my business mode to the max and dropped to one knee.

"Aigoo, why say such heartbreaking things, Department Head! I was just securing this hunk of metal first in case it scratched your noble body—pure concern for your safety!"

Sorry, printing press. But right now, placating the investor comes first.

"R-Really? You were worried about me……?"

Lucy the department head's face split into a beaming grin in an instant. Wow, she's easy to handle. Compared to those demonic editors from my past life, she's a wingless angel.

"Of course. Anyway, what on earth is this glorious printing press?"

"Uh? Oh, this. I-I was gonna sell it, but then it went thunk! from inside, and I got scared!"

"……What? Sell it?"

Did my voice come out too loud? She flinched and glanced at me nervously.

"B-But our department has zero budget……? The roof leaks, the floor traps need filling. Th-This thing could sell for a fortune."

I yelped in horror.

"No way! Absolutely not! I'll use it!"

Are you insane? Why sell this treasure! She couldn't sell it until dirt was in my eyes.

"B-But it's ancient junk……."

"Department Head."

I called her seriously, and she went hik! and flinched.

"Wh-Wh-Why?"

"Would you sell your husband if he got old?"

"Wh-Wh-What? Of course not!"

"Then how could you abandon this machine, steadfastly guarding its post like a loyal wife? And I always admired you so much……."

Classic gaslighting—no, guilt-tripping attack. Her eyes shook like there was an earthquake. She looked ready to shout, Okay, I won't sell it!

"Uuu……."

But the Art Department's poverty had her ankle in a vice grip. Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them with grim resolve.

"B-But we have no money! It's a real crisis! I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have to work more part-time jobs just to……."

"Then go do part-time!"

"……Gasp!"

Horror spread across her face. ...Huh? Why so shocked? She did it fine last time.

"I-I... When you told me not to do part-time before, I thought you were worried about me and was h-happy…… B-But you weren't……?"

Oh crap. Blinded by the printing press, I botched the humanity adjustment. Even for me, that was trashy.

"Just kidding."

"Doesn't feel like it?"

Sharp as ever. Already giving me distrustful side-eye.

……What now? I had to stop my precious printing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠press from hitting the marketplace. And soothe the department head too. A dilemma.

'Ah.'

After a moment's thought, I equipped my smooth sales smile.

"Of course it was a joke. A noble department head doing rough work? It would tear my heart out."

"R-Really……?"

She squinted suspiciously. But who am I? A third-rate villain. We third-raters excel at flashy words and flattery. Tongue dribbling is our specialty.

I grabbed her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠small, fragile hands and pulled them to my chest. Secret ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠skill: The subtle hand-holding I learned from the saintess.

"……Eh?"

Effect: tremendous! Her face turned apple-red in a flash.

Now, full throttle.

"Department Head. I'll save the Art Department. I'll invest every bit of my own money—full support matching the printing press sale price!"

"R-Really?! B-But taking money from a cadet would make me a trashy department head……."

Trashy? Nah, she'd be a saint. You can't buy this printing press for money.

"Aw, don't say such hurtful things."

"H-Hurt? Why?"

Good, she's hooked. I barely suppressed my twitching smirk and lowered my voice seriously.

"Some say departments exist for students, but that's wrong."

"Th-Then?"

"Students exist because of departments. How can eggs survive if the nest collapses?"

"G-Gasp……!"

Tears of emotion welled in Lucy's eyes. She was melting, but stopping here is second-rate. First-rate flatterers drive in the wedge.

"How could I ignore the Art Department's pain? Especially with such a wonderful, respected department head like you."

"Uu……."

Tears finally beaded in her eyes. Game over.

"Whoa, so touching. You're the light and salt of our department!"

Looks like Lucy's a big F in the personality alphabet. While she flailed in emotion soup, I swiftly presented the invoice.

"But on one condition."

"C-Condition……?"

"First, interest-free installments. Second, no touching whatever I print here. Third, total secrecy about me using the printing press."

"O-Okay! For our great Ian, anything!"

Nice. Verbal contract sealed. Printing press secured. I inwardly cheered and stroked it.

That was when Lucy timidly tugged my clothes.

"But Ian. Can't use it right now. This Rune Press runs on mana……."

Heh heh, no worries. I'm a Mage Tower-certified mana battery, right?

"B-But you need water or earth mages? And you're……."

She eyed me appraisingly and muttered.

"Not water or earth affinity, I think."

You can tell just by looking? Wait, more importantly—

"Really?"

"Yeah. All printing presses are like that. Think about the ink—ground stone mixed with water."

Kraaaak. To hit a wall here? Clutching my head in despair, she hurriedly spoke.

"I-I'm a mage too, so I want to help, but……."

"Ooh?!"

"My mana is a four-element mix, so I can't extract pure water or earth……."

Torture by hope! That's hope torture, Department Head!

'No. Think calmly.' This is the academy. Mages everywhere, and securing the printing press today is a huge win already. And above all.

"Ehehehe……."

Earth or water affinity? I know where at least one is.

"Wh-Why the creepy laugh? You're not plotting something, right?"

"Me? Anyway, Department Head. This printing press is mine now, right?"

"Where you going?"

"To seduce my childhood friend."

"Eek-!"

Countless pillars of fire adorned the sky. A beautiful sight at a glance, but up close, each was a top-tier firebomb spell, Meteor. The smell of sulfur, the heat. And screams filling the world.

Lena fled desperately through that hellscape. She deployed her newly discovered water-affinity mana for a barrier, but it lasted only moments. Everything burned in the scorching heat.

I'm gonna die.

"Someone..."

Save me.

Then, like a dream—a hand thrust out. Lena's eyes blinked at her white-knight savior.

Black hair. Gray eyes.

"Ian?"

"Quiet and cling."

Ian? Like a prince on a white horse, he scooped her up and dashed through falling debris. Dream-Lena dumbly stared up at his face.

And thought.

'...He's cooler than I thought.'

……

Scritch, scritch—! The sound of a fountain pen scratching paper filled the room. The window glowed with red sunset.

Thanks to that, Lena could blame her flushed cheeks on the glow.

"Wh-What kinda crazy dream was that!"

Sudden wave of embarrassment! Wham wham! Kicking the blanket futilely, she covered her face.

Her cheeks burned.

"...I'm losing it for real."

Th-This is it. That Magic Theory class was too stimulating today! B-But why Ian of all people? I feel nothing for that guy.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts. Something plopped from her forehead.

"...Wet towel?"

Memories trickled back. She'd collapsed before Magic Theory ended. Consciousness had faded, but her last memory was being piggybacked by Ian.

So he'd carried her to the dorm. Her gaze fell to the towel on the floor.

"What... no way."

He nursed her too? From class heroics, to carrying her, to caregiving.

"...He really has changed."

Enough to star in dreams? But.

"D-Doesn't mean he's cool or anything!"

Thud. Burying her face in the blanket, Lena noticed something odd.

This isn't my blanket? Scritch, scritch— that background noise.

She looked up.

"……Huh?"

A familiar back. A guy scribbling madly at the desk.

Ian.

"Ahem."

He must've brought her to his dorm. Makes sense—guys can't enter the ladies' dorm. But did he see my embarrassing flailing just now?

Lena fake-coughed and got out of bed.

"Hey."

No reply.

"Ian."

Still nothing. Maniacal focus, pen flying over paper.

She sidled closer.

……Studying? Kinda surprising. Carrying her out of class earlier, now this intensity. He really changed. Back then, he never—

Her gaze swept the paper.

And froze.

"……Huh?"

Lena blinked once, her eyes automatically devouring the next lines.

"You crazy bastard!"

Smack! A clear handprint bloomed on Ian's back.