The Princess Begs to Become Ink
At this point, my plan had converged on one thing. I wanted the Princess to say with her own mouth, "I'll become the ink for Ian-nim's erotic manga." Heh heh. Was this her princessly degradation too? Anyway, enough with the shady thoughts.
The key here was making the Princess want to use the printing press herself. There was no way a mere baron's son like me could ask the sky-high Princess, "Would you power my printing press with your mana?" Not to mention, I couldn't answer if she asked, "And what exactly are you printing?"
It seemed impossible at first glance, but... I'd make it happen somehow. Freshly printed, steaming-hot erotic manga straight from the press. I had to have it.
Therefore, what I needed now was to scam the Princess. Make her beg to use the printing press.
And for that, it was time for the classic Kim Seon-dal gourd scam.
I nudged a mop aside with my toe—thud—and reached out a hand to the Princess.
"Th-thank you."
Her fingers trembled slightly as she took my hand. The tension in her grip confirmed it—she was nervous. Even after standing, she didn't brush herself off but immediately dropped into a defensive stance. She was on guard against me.
She must have mistaken me for some skilled expert. Time to pour some oil on the fire?
What should I say to sound impressive? Aha.
Earlier, she'd been shocked when I spotted her. Meaning she'd used some technique to hide.
"Your hiding method itself wasn't bad."
"……!"
The Princess's shoulders jerked. Her golden eyelashes quivered, and her lips parted and closed ever so slightly.
"How on earth did you pierce my mana veil?"
Jackpot. I continued casually, as if it were nothing.
"There was no need to interfere. I figured a Princess like you had your reasons."
I'll pretend I didn't see you sneaking peeks at the cleaning supplies. But tell me why you did it. I was saving her face while subtly pressuring her. From my position, the more she talked, the more cards I could play. Plus, it fit my mysterious magic genius persona.
"Th-that was..."
Her eyes rolled—roll roll—toward the printing press.
"I was curious about what that thing is. Everything in the Empire is ultimately imperial property. In other words, I was inspecting part of my assets."
"I see. It's a printing press. A bit old."
When I said it nonchalantly, she shot back incredulously.
"That's all the explanation?"
"Yes. As you can see."
"Printing presses are treated like strategic resources these days. No way something like that would be in a rundown building like this, in a dusty warehouse full of junk. If it was valuable, you'd have sold it all!"
Her voice rose, as if accusing me of thinking she was an idiot. Thanks to that, I could guess she'd bitten the bait I'd tossed three days ago.
"And you're monopolizing it, when you're under the direct favor of the Mage Tower Master! There has to be some secret to that machine, right?"
Bingo. She's hooked good.
I forcibly pulled down my rising smirk and kept my expression neutral. Blank face, blank face. Gotta look enigmatic.
I picked up the printing press manual with one hand.
"As expected of the Princess. Your insight is sharp."
I flattered her. Hard to do, but what could I do? I was a third-rate villain, and she was the Princess—soon to be the ink for my printing press.
"To be honest, I can't deny it might produce side effects beyond printing."
"I knew it! It's for mana training!"
Her eyes sparkled. Of course, I couldn't lie outright to the Princess. Imperial family members excel at detecting lies in their own ways. So I stuck to the truth.
"It uses a lot of mana. That's for sure."
Her imaginations after that? Her problem. The Princess swallowed hard.
"Th-then, using this could really improve your skills...?"
"It might go up."
I paused a beat, then added,
"Or it might break them."
Her eyes widened further. Fear mixed with even more temptation. Aspiring mages are weak to this "risky but powerful secret training" stuff.
I deliberately looked away and muttered,
"I never planned to show it to anyone. This was equipment I intended to use in secret."
"……."
"Not just anyone can use it recklessly. You need the right constitution and the vessel to handle it."
Whew. Wrapping the basic manual in ominous mystery was exhausting. But no lies, right?
I glanced sideways at the Princess. About time for a reaction.
The core of my plan to make her Printer Ink No. 1: Make her want to fuel the press herself. I'd hyped it like some ultimate artifact, so the bite should come soon.
Sure enough, after fidgeting with her lips in thought, she whispered,
"Does that mean... I can't?"
"What do you mean?"
"Could I... try using that printing press?"
Nice. I wanted to pump my fist, but not yet. Had to shake off the risks of her status first.
I muttered regretfully,
"...Because you're the Princess."
"What does that mean?"
"It wouldn't do to tarnish the imperial honor. I recommend standard training. Safe, dignified."
"But it's slow, isn't it?"
She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes in dissatisfaction.
"Standard training means I'll be a grand mage by the time I'm gray-haired."
"High possibility."
"Exactly... I can't do that. Human life is finite, and my time is short."
She fretted like someone living only for today. Natural, with the Crown Prince's back always in her sight.
Time to toss what I wanted.
"But the non-standard path is unstable, with no guaranteed results. And above all, you can't tell a soul."
Crunch. She bit her lip hard, then spoke.
"Instability's fine."
"......."
"Even bad results, I'll accept. Big gains come with big risks."
Good.
"I'll keep the secret, no matter what. So let me use that printing press too."
Perfect. I smirked inwardly, keeping a straight face outwardly.
"Will you really keep that promise?"
"Want a vow?"
"I trust the Princess, but..."
I turned to the printing press. If she found out about the erotic manga, my life was over.
"It must be that secretive a training, huh. Fine. I swear."
She placed a hand on her chest.
"No matter what happens. Even if the results fall short, I'll bury everything I saw, heard, and experienced. I won't blame you, Ian Ashy."
A beat of silence. With eyes wide open, she declared,
"I swear on the imperial name."
An imperial oath. Binding for royals. That was enough.
Finally, I nodded as if giving in.
"...No helping it. I'll give the Princess a chance too."
Her eyes lit up.
"R-really?"
"Yes. Sit here, then."
I pulled out a black blindfold I'd stashed in the warehouse corner and handed it over. She stared at it blankly.
"......This is."
"You have to wear it."
"Wh-why?"
"To block your senses."
So you don't see my erotic manga.
But her face flushed red, and her fingertips began to tremble.
"S-sense... blocking?"
"Yes."
"We do it... like this?"
"......Pardon?"
"This seems too lewd. I haven't even done it properly once yet......"
I stared at her. What the hell was this Princess talking about?
When Lena returned after washing her face,
"Huh?"
The warehouse scene was gloriously insane. Some woman in a black blindfold sat primly on a chair by the printing press. And Ian was making her hold a massive metal rod.
"Wh-what are you two doing!"
"Oh, Lena's back?"
"Not 'oh, you're back?' What the hell is this? Who's she!"
Ian, securing the metal rod to the printing press, called Lena from the other side.
"No time to explain. Come grab this, Lena."
His expression was dead serious, so Lena unwittingly took hold. It was cold, and she felt her mana subtly draining. So this is how you use a printing press.
No! That's not the point!
Lena grabbed Ian's ear and whispered urgently.
"Who the hell is she? When did you rescue her? Why the blindfold?"
"I'll explain after."
"No!"
What the actual...? And who's this? A girl, no less? Lena's eyes suddenly widened. That blonde hair! Isn't she... imperial?
"Ian, you mad bastard—"
"Alright. Activating. Everyone, focus."
Vreeeeeng!
Gears meshed, and a chunk of mana drained away.
"...Ngh."
An involuntary groan escaped her. Then the blonde on the other side turned beet red.
"A-already going that hard?"
What the hell was this woman talking about? Lena glared at Ian with dagger eyes.
"Hey. At least give a basic explanation."
"Explanation?"
Hmm. Ian checked the printed output and grinned.
"We're not leaving till we print 100 copies today."
"What? That's insane—"
"I-I'm fine with 200! I can endure!"
"Why is she okay with it?!"
And so began the hellish printing press operation.