A Million Krone for One Loss
"A million krone just for throwing one match?"
"What the hell? In broad daylight?"
At Ian Ashy's icy retort, Kano Ameri nearly burst into tears of pure indignation. An empty lecture hall. She'd leaned casually against the window frame, trying to channel some ominous prophet vibe, but all she got back was a crooked glare like she was some bug...
... How embarrassing!
Kano panicked inwardly at Ian's curt dismissal but played it cool on the outside, pushing up her glasses with a flourish.
"It means my prophecy was wrong. Things should've played out as scripted—there was never supposed to be a fight between you and the crown prince. This is a warning that someone's forcibly twisted the world's flow."
Kano sneaked a peek at Ian's face. This oughta shock him or scare him at least, right? The characters in Golden Chains do have that naive streak.
But.
"......"
Ian's expression was utterly serene. If anything, he looked annoyed, digging into his ear with his pinky finger.
Damn... he really nails the third-rate villain aesthetic.
Kano was quietly impressed. His mouth cracked open like he couldn't be bothered.
"So? What's that got to do with me if your prophecy flopped? From my side, the opponent's just the crown prince. End of story."
"I-It does matter! Your life's on the line! You're up against His Highness the Crown Prince! You know his strength, right? A guy like you could lose his head before the match even starts!"
Ian snorted.
"Don't overdo it. What lunatic slices off heads in a training bout?"
...Yeah, fair point. Kano regretted not cooking up a more plausible scenario.
Ian slowly looked her up and down. The corner of his mouth curled into a sly smirk.
"So the great prophetess steps up to help a nobody like me. Doesn't that strike you as a bit off?"
"Wh-What's off about it?!"
"No reason for you to care if I get crushed by the crown prince or not."
"Th-That's... for the sake of world peace..."
"Bullshit."
Ian took a step closer.
"You've got some reason to keep that prophecy on track, right? And it sure as hell ain't my safety."
"......"
"Whatever it is, if it doesn't pan out, you're the one taking a huge hit."
How'd he figure that out? Did he read my mind?
Kano cautiously looked up at him.
"... Eep."
Ian was grinning wickedly.
"You're basically asking me to sacrifice myself for your sake. So show some sincerity worthy of it. Instead of trying to manipulate me."
His words hit too close to home, leaving her speechless. Maybe I underestimated Golden Chains after all.
"Alright, shall we start negotiating?"
Kano swallowed hard.
"Let me sum it up."
Ian ticked off his fingers with exaggerated flair.
"One: Pay up one million krone. Two: Unlimited access to your prophecies whenever I want. Three: If I call for help in any situation, you answer without questions—once."
She'd agreed to it all, swept up in the moment, but now it made her bristle anyway.
"C-Can't you knock a little off that one million?"
"Nope. Hit the road."
"......Isn't that too much? I'm a student! Where am I supposed to get a million krone?!"
"That shiny thing you showed me earlier? You could hit a nearby dungeon and make that in a day."
Ian flashed a grin.
"In return, I'll put on a stellar show against His Highness—scream nicely and forfeit like a champ. Cheap price for fixing your prophecy, no?"
"Y-You devil...!"
"Contract sealed. Send the money to my dorm by tomorrow."
Kano watched Ian stride out without a backward glance, then collapsed to the floor, legs giving out.
Scary... that third-rate villain...
Possession life was way too brutal.
Ah. Sweet.
My steps felt light as I headed down the hallway. Kano Ameri's idea lined up perfectly with mine. If she and I both took easy losses in the prelims, we'd set up the crown prince and saintess to clash in the second round. Perfect way to nudge things back to canon in this delicate spot. Plus, I scored mental satisfaction and material gains—what more could I want?
I'd planned to just saddle her with a debt for later leverage, but she got all shaky and scared, so I squeezed out cash and extras too.
"Heh heh heh."
Couldn't stop chuckling. Kinda felt like a real third-rate villain now. Guess hanging with Kano keeps dragging me into method-acting those tropes.
...Anyway.
"I'm not really into martial prowess, you know."
Sparring matches or whatever—I'd planned to lose from the start. Let's be real. Magic? Mess it up and your mana backfires, killing you. Swordsmanship? Pens beat most metals traditionally anyway. Bottom line: no interest or intent in learning combat skills. I'd rather spend that time drawing one more page.
In short, my goal in this world is total cultural victory (via ero-manga). With that in mind, I was sweating bullets.
"...Why's it gotta be so damn high."
The hill inside the Imperial Academy grounds loomed like a mountain. Huffing and puffing up it led to—the annex library. Where they stashed books deemed unfit for the main branch.
I pushed open the creaky wooden door, and my eyes met the librarian's at the counter. Her brown eyes behind the glasses flicked toward me in a tiny nod. We'd built up a shallow rapport from my frequent visits. I nodded back and headed for the shelves.
What I was after: magic-related books.
"...Lemme see."
Not into magic, you say? Why hunt for magic books? All for the ero-manga, obviously.
True to its annex name, this place overflowed with books too dodgy for the main library. Fringe magic theory texts shunned by the Mage Tower's four-element mainstream. And practical manuals on mana conversion formulas dismissed as useless in real combat.
Exactly the junk I needed.
The inks are way too frail stamina-wise.
I'd secured Ink No.1 (Lena Youngston, water/earth affinity) and Ink No.2 (the First Princess Aefried), but their endurance sucked. Lena hadn't awakened yet, and even Aefried—Tower Master disciple candidate material—collapsed after just 100 prints.
Squeezing them dry topped out at 100 copies a week.
But I've got this freakishly huge, alien mana circuit that shattered the magic measurement orb. If I could transfuse some of this overflowing mana to the drained inks like IV fluids, or convert it myself and feed it straight into the printer... wouldn't that lead to explosive growth someday? Like Bitcoin mooning?
I was flipping through basic mana conversion pages, racking my brain, when—out of the corner of my eye, past the shelves—silvery hair peeked out, tilted, then vanished.
...Why's she here again.
Rare combo of hair and eye color. Obviously, heroine Arina Saint.
Observing quietly, she was circling like last time at the library—watching me from afar, pretending to browse. She'd pull a book from the shelf in front of me, spot my face, and—
"...Uh, u-um? Th-this... isn't the spot?"
She jolted in fake surprise, even staging a little stumble. Though her ear tips were beet red, of course.
Classic ultra-shy personality ploy—hoping I'd approach first and say hi.
Sorry, but for survival, I'm blocking that frequency hard. I stuck to my flawless ignore tactic from last time, eyes glued to my book.
Then.
BAM—!
The quiet library shattered as the door flew open roughly. Heavy footsteps thudded in—a male student in Knight Academy uniform. His tight shirt strained over bulging muscles, and an Imperial Guard trainee badge gleamed on his chest.
Ah. Crown prince lackey.
Typical Academy "cool kids club" type—strutting on borrowed clout from higher-ups.
"Eek!"
Startled by the noise and his intimidating bulk, the saintess flinched, then scurried behind me on pattering feet.
Caught off guard by her sudden cling, but... thinking it over, blowing up her social anxiety here would be bad. With the training match coming, I needed to pair her off with the crown prince.
Damn, this cracks my iron wall persona.
She'd totally ask later, "You hid me back then, right?"
...Still, better than hassle right now—stick to canon progression. Who knew taking Kano's cash would prick my conscience like this.
This is why people gotta stay frugal.
I sighed inwardly, twisting to fully shield her petite frame behind my back.
Meanwhile, the trainee knight scanned the room, then headed my way.
Hey, why me!
I wanted to yell, but I had a hunch. With the crown prince matchup looming, he probably had words about that.
He rapped the desk obnoxiously as he approached, muttering.
"No clue why they stuck this godforsaken library on some remote hillside. Probably 'cause it's full of worthless trash books."
Wait, what?
"..."
I glanced at the entrance counter. The librarian's brown eyes, calmly reading, now glinted coldly. The thick hardcover in her hands let out a distinct crack from its spine—not my imagination.
Librarian pissed.