The Contract

"I left nothing in the tank…"

"If you asked me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to do that again, I don't think I could…"

Wow.

I sat in the makeup room of the PR department and stared into the mirror. I felt bad saying it, but I honestly couldn't tell what had changed.

"This should knock everyone sideways, don't you think?"

"Hurry out there. I can already picture the president's face, and the foreign student's too. Hohoho."

"Ah — yes."

When they hyped me up like that, of course my confidence climbed. Am I actually crazy handsome? Is this some kind of magic makeup that only works on women's eyes?

I checked myself in the mirror, neatened my clothes, and stepped out of the dressing room.

An angel was sitting on the sofa in the PR office as if she had always belonged there.

No. Not an angel. Elise.

The scene of her first appearance in the game rose unbidden in my mind.

"It's rude to stare a hole through someone, you know."

"Ah. Ah — sorry."

I hadn't even realized I'd been boring into Elise's face.

"Did you have something to say?"

"Uh… the makeup came out really nice."

"…Thanks. But why do you look exactly the same as when you went in?"

Excuse me? The noonas said people were going to lose their minds.

Or maybe she was too embarrassed to let it show.

"Ahem. Well. That can happen."

"If you're finished, come out already. The president is waiting outside."

Elise left that behind her and walked out of the PR office first.

If that was acting, she could have switched careers. Dammit. The makeup alone had taken over an hour. All that suffering for nothing.

"…Hoyeon. You look absolutely insane. I'm serious."

The reaction from Surin, who had been waiting outside, was a little different.

"Come on, I look the same as always. What are you talking about?"

"I genuinely don't know how to put it into words… You're just — insane!"

See? So I was at that level.

Surin's praise and the sparkle in her eyes sent my mood climbing all over again.

"We'll start with one against the student council as a backdrop!"

A photographer with a bright, easy manner waved us into position. I put on an awkward face and threw up a V-sign with my left hand.

"Ah, no — the young man's far too tense. That face is going to waste."

"S-sorry."

Tap, tap.

Someone nudged me from the side. I looked over and found Elise meeting my eyes.

"Copy me."

She folded her arms, turned her body about forty-five degrees, and showed me her back.

Ah. That pose.

I turned the same forty-five degrees and set my back against hers.

"Ohhh, yes — the posture's good, good. Confidence! That's it!"

Click. Click.

"These came out incredibly well. Let's move to the next location!"

"Alright — and, shooting."

Click. Click.

"Next we'll move to the academy library~."

I had already lost count of how many times we'd relocated.

Surin had hung around at the student council for a while, then vanished on the excuse that she had a mountain of work. From where I was standing, she had just gotten bored and run for it.

Elise looked a little worn down too. Physically she would have been fine, so it had to be mental fatigue.

"We'll do a shot of the two of you sitting with books, reading!"

This man had energy to burn. Was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he getting paid a fortune?

Click. Click.

"And next is… oh my, look at the time."

It was over. At last. The end of a full three-hour shoot—

"Grab lunch, and we'll reconvene at one o'clock by the central fountain at Victoria Academy."

Ah, fuck.

The crew left that hanging in the air and trooped off toward food, laughing the whole way. Elise and I were left facing each other in the library like a pair of abandoned ducklings.

"Do you have anything after this?"

"Not really."

"Want to grab lunch together, then?"

"…I suppose."

At least she was willing to eat with me. Elise answered in that clipped way of hers and started walking first.

Elise led the way and ducked into what looked like a restaurant. I hurried after her.

A waiter came to take our order. I glanced at Elise; she let out a long, weary sigh and said, "He'll have the same as me."

Genius. I should have said that.

The waiter disappeared, and I quietly took in the room. It reminded me of a steakhouse I had splurged on in my twenties. That place had felt special at the time. This was a different atmosphere entirely. Even the air was different — the kind of place that would charge you extra for breathing premium oxygen.

Across from me, Elise tore into the bread as if she came here all the time and had nothing in particular on her mind.

Well. Nothing else to do. Might as well try conversation. Praise makes even whales dance, they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠say. I'd start with a compliment.

"Your makeup really took, you know. I was actually startled earlier."

"Why the sudden flattery?"

"Uh… I was just saying what I thought. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize… Haah. Just eat quietly."

"Yeah…"

Why was she so prickly? Was she mad at me?

I went a little awkward myself and quietly tore into the bread. The food arrived not long after, and we worked our way through the meal. Every so often I tossed out a subject I knew she liked, and we managed something like a conversation. Luckily, a classic film that had opened a few days ago landed.

Good thing I studied her tastes.

I never knew when I might run into Elise, so I had memorized things like her favorite authors' new releases and news about classical performances.

We finished lunch somehow and stepped out of the restaurant. The meal had taken longer than expected. Our appointment was close.

"That ran longer than I thought. It's already ten to one. We need to move."

"That's because you kept making pointless conversation. The polite thing during a meal is to focus on the food. Did you not know that?"

"But you had fun, didn't you? Don't tell me you don't want to see Figaro and the Pirates."

"That's true, but… haah. I'm exhausted. The afternoon schedule will be over quickly, so just follow me. Let's get this finished."

Elise glanced around, then strode straight ahead.

"Uh, hey? That's not the right way."

The central fountain was in the opposite direction from the restaurant. Whether she hadn't heard me or was ignoring me, Elise kept walking.

Can she not hear me?

"Alright — that's a wrap for today's shoot! Thank you for your hard work!"

"Thank you for your hard work!"

"You too!"

The afternoon session really did end quickly. Two location changes and we were done, which was more than acceptable. It would have finished even earlier if we hadn't had to double back because of Elise.

"If you didn't know the way, you could have just said so."

"…That can happen. People can't be perfect all the time."

"Fair enough. Seeing your human side was actually kind of nice. Though even I didn't imagine that walking toward the central fountain would spit us out at the academy's outer wall."

"…"

"Pfft."

The look on Elise's face when she had been heading for the fountain and instead found herself staring at the outer wall had been genuinely adorable. The way she had shot me a sideways glance, gone red, and then taken off at speed in the opposite direction had been pretty funny too.

"…Lee Hoyeon."

Elise said my name in a low voice.

I'm fucked. She's pissed.

She closed the distance in a few long strides and jabbed her index finger into my chest.

"There's a limit to how much I'll put up with you acting like a jackass just because you're good-looking."

She delivered that warning that wasn't quite a warning, then fled the scene as if she were running away.

"I learned that from you, you brat…"

And she had said I looked the same before and after makeup. So I had gotten better looking. Hah.

"Ugh. I don't want to get up."

I had burned one of my two weekend days — Saturday — on the shoot, so resting on Sunday would have been the correct move. Unfortunately, I had things to do.

I needed to go shopping.

Not a big-box supermarket. Black Market shopping.

"An opportunity to make money showed up. I'd be a fool not to take it."

Ordinarily, confirming an item's information required either Appraisal magic or an appraisal scroll. But I had an ability called the Equipment Status Window. All I had to do was look at something, and the information came up.

Anyone could see what that was telling me to do: go scoop up the broken items rolling around the Black Market.

I had sworn I would make that happen this weekend. Getting out of bed, however, was another matter.

"Ahhh. If I'm going anyway, better to go early and rest after."

Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow. That was my motto — but I had already put this off long enough. Starting tomorrow I would be back in class, and time would get even tighter.

I forced open eyes that refused to stay that way, pulled on civilian clothes, and headed out toward the academy's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shopping district.

The emergency stairwell of Samro Department Store. That was the access route down into the Black Market. The muscle watching the door were different guys from last time. I held out a coin; they stepped aside without a word, and I slipped through the gap.

"First time since I came to the pharmacy. It's been a while."

I might as well stop by the pharmacy too. There was a chance I'd find something unexpected.

Vendors had laid out stalls all through the underground. Monster byproducts, beakers brimming with blood, even a guy selling live fish. Seeing it in person was genuinely strange.

Every so often a stroke of fortune hid among people like that, but most of them were losers from the sunlit world. A black market was the kind of place everyone knew about and quietly agreed not to mention. The nation and the Association weren't idiots, and this was a world crawling with people of every ability imaginable. There was no way they wouldn't notice the flow of money and goods.

Which meant this was a comparatively weak operation. A soft Black Market.

The hard Black Market was buried so deep that only VIPs ever set foot in it. That one was packed with the kind of crime that crossed every line — human trafficking, human experimentation, rape, monster fighting pits. Even if you pinpointed the location, the lobbying money involved was so enormous that people often looked the other way.

Anyway. This was the lesser one. The soft Black Market.

And precisely because of that, there was a chance of hidden treasure. The dregs who washed up in a place like this were never going to have a sharp eye for valuables.

"Anyone could tell it would be here."

A shop that might as well have hung a sign reading, Antique junk gathered right here~. The fact that it was a proper storefront instead of a floor stall already put it a cut above.

I lifted the cloth hanging over the entrance and stepped inside. The musty smell of old goods. The smell of money.

"A new face. Come in, come in."

An old man sitting in a chair behind the counter smiled and welcomed me. His clothes were rumpled, and he was missing several teeth. Not the most inspiring first impression.

"Looking for something in particular? I can pick a few things out for you, if you'd like."

I didn't answer. I quietly started browsing. The old man didn't seem to have expected a reply anyway; he closed his eyes and fanned himself in silence.

Trash. This is trash too. A tobacco recipe? Also trash.

It was, quite literally, a festival of garbage. This wasn't finding a needle in a haystack. This was a treasure hunt in a dump.

"Hmmm…"

As I checked the merchandise one piece at a time, I realized the old man had opened his eyes at some point and was watching me.

What's his problem. Has the crazy old man gone senile?

I ignored the heat of that stare and kept looking. After about thirty minutes of digging through antiques, something did turn up.

What was I supposed to make of an item this ambiguously good?

The name had "Hell" and "summoning" in it, so I had grabbed it on instinct and checked — and it turned out to be a delinquent-summoning contract.

"You've got to be kidding me."

It was so absurd I muttered it out loud, completely forgetting the old man was there. Fortunately, he didn't seem to care. Running an antique shop had apparently been mental training via a steady diet of lunatics.

Ah, this is getting me going, though.

Words like "delinquent" and "nuisance" grated, no question. But it was a supreme-grade summoning contract. There was something in that that stirred a man's heart.

No. I need to find something more reliable first.

I tore my eyes away from the Contract of the Hellish Delinquent by force and looked over the rest of the stock.

"…"

"A fine choice. I don't know what that scroll is, but I bought it ten years ago from a man wrapped head to toe in a robe. I hope it serves you well."

"Yes, yes. Take care."

Damn it. I caved.

The Contract of the Hellish Delinquent. I didn't even know what it was, but it looked cool as hell.

The thought of actually using a summoning contract had me buzzing. I ran straight back to the dormitory.

Click.

I confirmed the dorm door was locked, then pulled out the contract I had carried pressed to my chest the whole way. I set it on the floor and slowly breathed mana into it.

A low rush of air—

Light poured from the contract and flooded the room. I shut my eyes against it, and when I opened them again, something was hanging in the air in front of me.

"…What the fuck is this."

A set of choices, like a system window, had appeared right in front of my eyes.