Part-Time Job (1)
“See you tomorrow~!”
Rana waved as she headed into the magic department dorms. I hadn’t planned on escorting her back, but my stomach was full, and we were both heading west anyway, so I didn’t mind. Of course, none of that would’ve happened without those delicious steaks.
By now, the sun had fully set, and evening had arrived. I strolled along the neatly paved path, enjoying the cool breeze. The central area was surprisingly quiet for a Friday—hardly living up to the name. There were a few students milling around near the student council hall, but that was it. Everyone else had probably headed to the capital.
These kids were full of youthful energy. With so little to do at the academy, the capital next door offered way more fun. Especially for the second-years who’d just endured the entrance ceremony—they’d bolted out right after, savoring that exam-like sense of liberation. Some might’ve holed up in their dorms or training halls, though.
I’d love to hit the town too, but unlike them, I didn’t have the luxury. At least not without time and money. Still, the stillness had its own charm. It felt different from the dawn vibe—cozier, maybe.
I kept walking toward the dorms. But then, a voice shattered the peace.
Not a welcome sound at all.
“Coming early, huh.”
Quests usually notify failure right away. Was the system slacking, or dragging its feet? Either way, not a good look.
I shoved the idiotic window aside.
The Possessor has achieved a hidden objective.
“What the hell is this…?”
I froze. It felt like the system was reading my mind and patching itself on the spot just to spite me.
“What’re you up to now?”
At this point, it was almost impressive. I left it alone—nothing I could do about an “achieved” message anyway.
Hidden Quest: Defeat the Protagonist! achieved.
Hidden Quest: Defeat Your Little Brother! achieved.
◈ Causes uncontrollable sneezing in target.
That was it. But no rewards materialized.
“Huh?”
Then my pants pockets bulged slightly on both sides. I pulled out the contents.
“This is the magic stone, and this… sneezing powder, I guess.”
My right hand held a fist-sized magic stone brimming with mana. My left clutched a soft pouch of powder. Obvious rewards.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
The magic stone had plenty of uses, but this “toy” powder…
“Now it’s pulling pranks.”
I considered tossing it but pocketed it instead. Giving trash like this meant it’d come in handy someday.
“Hidden quest conditions… something protagonist-related?”
Too few samples for certainty, but based on the info: targets were the protagonist and little brother, and I’d beaten them both. If right, there’d be quests tied to Rana and Princess Ariel too.
“Tch.”
I clicked my tongue. Another thing to watch out for. Why couldn’t it leave me alone? Frustration bubbled up.
Still, today wasn’t all bad. Tangible gains like rewards, and above all…
I’ve figured out the family swordsmanship.
The body remembered the techniques, but Kyle hadn’t trained properly, leaving gaps. Watching Father filled them in. Now I fully grasped what Arden swordsmanship aimed for.
Felt it with the mana cultivation method too—finely crafted arts.
Seeing and internalizing it firsthand revealed truths words couldn’t. No wonder the founder was hailed as a once-in-a-century genius.
As I mulled over the techniques, footsteps approached.
“I’m back, Young Master.”
“...Yeah.”
Elraim had returned—the one who’d vanished that morning.
***
The moment she ran into the young master on her dispatch mission, Elraim felt only deep disgust. His personality, speech, behavior—all matched her last memories of him perfectly.
But at some point, that started changing. When was it…?
Maybe since he began morning training a few days ago? They’d met less than a week ago, but his actions defied her expectations completely.
Sure, he put on a good show when it suited him—acting better when cornered. But not to this extent. At most, he’d just watch his behavior.
Recent conversations showed subtle shifts too.
“Aren’t you going to ask where I’ve been?”
“Should I care?”
Gruff retort. Same as always.
“...Probably met with Father.”
That barely audible mutter hadn’t changed either.
“Not curious what the family head said?”
“Nope.”
Sullen interruption—identical.
“All I care about is my allowance and when you’re leaving. Shut up about everything else.”
“...You mean that?”
“Yeah!”
Irritated shout—same. But the intensity was way down. Previously a 100, now maybe 20-30. It even felt forced.
Having watched him since childhood, Elraim sensed it clearest.
The change was recent—starting from the “Contract Land” visit. And meeting that classmate, Rana Heytald.
“Young Master.”
“...What now.”
“...”
Look at him now. He could ignore her outright but didn’t. Unthinkable before.
Some suspicion lingered, but she saw it as positive.
“You might not realize, but you’ve been nicer lately.”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
“I hope it’s just my imagination. But since meeting someone…”
“Elraim. Enough.”
“Your personality and behavior have changed.”
“Cut the bullshit and shut up.”
He yelled, veins bulging in his neck. But it didn’t faze her—only spurred her on.
“Reminds me of what you said to Princess Ariel recently.”
She paused, recalling the incident, then quoted verbatim.
“Young Master. Your acting shows.”
His face twisted. It brought a smile to her lips.
“At least you can’t lie about her.”
Clutching faint hope, she continued.
“I won’t ask for the old days. If this is genuine—not an act—I’ll support you fully.”
She turned from the silent young master. She could guess his true feelings without asking.
Sorry, Elraim.
She was wrong, of course.
Stop with the weird fantasies…
The man himself was exasperated.
***
My second weekend here. Important business today, so I put extra care into my appearance. Washed and clean-magic’d my uniform—instead of line-drying it outside—trimmed my hair and beard neatly. Filed my nails straight, even conjured perfume magic to ward off any odors. Finally, checked my reflection in the broken window for finishing touches.
“Hmm, good enough.”
Neat, understated, clean. Just mimicked other students, but it looked sharp.
“Sigh, hope it works.”
I’d done my best within limits, but results might flop. Praying for success, I left the dorm.
***
As cheap academy food shows, Tianis Academy is student-friendly. That kindness extends elsewhere—like the request board on the student council hall’s fourth floor.
Why so many this early?
The hall teemed with weekend students, swarming like ants.
Makes sense—they’ve got nothing like this.
Most were yesterday’s new freshmen—mostly commoners. Overflowing requests, safe gigs, good pay. After lifetimes of danger, low wages, and scarce work, it must feel like a dream.
Another student-support policy. For those paying hefty tuition, what money do they have? Hence the aid.
Truly desperate students could get living expense support from the central student aid office. But only the dirt-poor qualified. Not for noble brats like me.
Left: request board. Right: counter.
I needed the counter, so headed there.
Board requests were one-offs; counter ones were long-term part-time gigs needing students. I wanted the latter—safer, easier.
Waited in line. My turn.
“...”
The staffer’s face soured. My notoriety was infamous even here. I’d dealt with it at admin before—no big shock.
“Here for requests.”
“What kind?”
I listed conditions: longest term possible. Weekends preferred; weekdays okay. At least 50 dong coins hourly. Hard labor fine.
Demands were high, but she dug through files. Requests came from academy and capital—plenty matched.
“Ten total.”
She laid them out. Five magic department, three craft, two general. All wanted simple labor. Weekends, high hourly, on-campus. Perfect.
Regular students would pick one for interview. Not me.
“Contact all ten.”
Accounting for rejections, full lineup.
The staffer sighed deeply, muttering low.
“Kyle.”
“Yes?”
“Straight talk: your interview odds are near zero. You know how you’re treated here. Try the board instead—better shot.”
She pointed opposite.
I was mildly surprised. First academy staff to advise me.
People like her exist.
Everyone else trashed or ignored me. No proper words like hers—even if duty-bound or from a sour face. Truly grateful.
“It’s fine. If I fail, I’ll try that.”
“Haa…”
She looked baffled. But what could she do? My karma.
I wouldn’t deny my sins.
“Fine. But brace yourself.”
“Thanks for the concern.”
“...Concern?”
She muttered. After ten minutes of paperwork, handed ten sheets.
“Contacts made—just give your name.”
“Thank you.”
Took them with a quick bow and left.
“South first.”
Closest was general department south. Thus began my allowance-earning interview marathon.
***
Bam! The door slammed, whipping up wind and tousling my hair.
“Here too…”
Harsh rejection—sixth time. Not even an interview.
Employers shooed me on sight. First one interviewed but booted me on name—didn’t recognize my face, probably.
Seven down the drain.
High motivation and work ethic, yet nonstop fails—demoralizing.
I trudged to the last: craft department building.
Arrived, straightened my disheveled look.
“Mm, ahh.”
Softened my voice—Kyle’s had a pushy edge.
Elraim eyed me oddly from beside. Ignored.
Prepped. Last one—resolve hardened.
Voices inside—interviewee present.
Door opened; student emerged, startling on sight.
“Excuse me.”
First impressions matter—greeted politely.
Then the voice.
“Yes~ Next ca—Eek!! K-Kyle Arden! You’re the interview? No way…!”
The third-year who posted the request paled in terror. First senior I’d met froze in fear.
“J-Juran… you want the job, right…?”
Grabbed the departing student.
“Uh… yes.”
“G-Great, start today then.”
“P-Please take care of me.”
Shook hands frantically. Kid smiled awkwardly.
“K-Kyle Arden? S-Sorry, spots just filled…”
Lame excuse. Obvious panic hire—right in front of me.
“Hoo…”
Better to say “no” outright. This was excessive. Irritation flared.
Step step.
She flinched at my sigh, huddling as I approached. Elraim moved to stop me.
“Not like that.”
Serious tone. She backed off, sensing no malice.
Senior like a mouse before a cat—petrified.
I leaned to her ear.
“Senior.”
Low whisper. She panicked, near tears.
I murmured just for her.
“Watch out. That kid’s got sticky fingers. Hide valuables.”
“Y-Yes…?”
Nodded toward the new hire.
“I warned you. Excuse me.”
Polite to the end, I left.
“Fuck… what a shitshow.”
Cursed once, calmed. If she got it, no trouble; if not… their problem.
Petty? Sure, after her stunt. Not lying either—caused protagonist grief too.
Interview over in under five. Next.
Obviously.
“Y-Y-You look t-too h-hard a w-worker…”
Stuttering rejection. One left.
“Maybe hit the board like she said…”
Rubbed chin. Board requests had simple process—low rejection risk.
Worst case, take unstable ones.
“Last one.”
Craft department’s rundown corner building. Alchemy stench assaulted my nose.
Once acclimated, headed to workshop.
Knock knock.
No answer, but presence—waited.
Creak—door slowly opened. Employer peeked through.
Short—chest height. Gray hair, vacant, enlightened eyes.
“Uh, ex-excuse me?”
“Hi.”
Emotionless, curt tone. Definitely her.
“Come in.”
Guided me—no questions. Knew it was an interview.
I snapped to, entered.
“Sit.”
Pointed to grimy corner chair. Sat without complaint.
“What’re you?”
Eyed Elraim who followed.
“Just a watcher.”
“Yeah? Sit there too.”
“Thank you.”
Guided Elraim. I watched blankly, stunned.
Reason: obvious.
Ruina Lindel.
Villain like me—not some third-rate punk.
“So? Name?”
Akacheonma’s mid-boss.