A 1,000-Gold Request

'D-did you hear that?'

'Ugh, seriously! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Stupid Dick! It's your fault again……!'

While everyone around them sat stiff and tense, Francesca simply passed by the group and headed for the lectern.

'You... you didn't hear it, did you?'

At the lectern, she did glance once toward Simon's group, but said nothing and carried on with the lesson.

"We'll be moving on to the next page."

With her sleeves rolled up and her long hair tied back tightly with a cord, she looked like a duelist bracing for battle — there was something grimly resolute about her.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"There's a famous adage about poison."

She drew a deep breath and recited:

"Alle Ding' sind Gift, und nichts ohn' Gift; allein die Dosis macht, daß ein Ding kein Gift ist — All things are poison, and nothing exists without poison. Only the dose determines that a thing is not a poison."

"……"

"So what exactly is poison? Simply an agent with toxic properties? No. Anything that harms the human body can be a poison."

She swept her gaze across the students.

"Which brings us to a question. Suppose a person ingests the same amount of a spice and a poisonous herb — and suppose the spice turns out to be worse for their health. Why would that be?"

Jamie, the class president, shot her hand up instantly.

"Because the poison's quantity didn't reach a lethal dose!"

"Correct, Jamie. Five study points awarded."

Jamie's face lit up with unmistakable delight at her glowing expression.

"For any poison to take effect, it requires a dosage equal to its lethal threshold. Stay under that line, and plenty of poisons are actually used as medicine. So conversely — why are non-toxic substances not poisons? Jamie?"

Caught off guard by the sudden counter-question, Jamie froze, wracked her brain, and finally answered.

"B-because they're harmless to the body?"

"Simple. Because a dose large enough to burst your stomach and kill you IS the lethal dose."

Scattered chuckles rippled through the room.

"Therefore, the foundation of handling toxic substances is a precise understanding of lethal dosage, followed by an analysis of the target you intend to apply it to. To poison a monster, you'd have to calculate a new lethal dose. Let's now examine the three laws required for that calculation."

Francesca marched through the difficult theory without a single stumble. Meilin sat with her fingers laced and pressed against her cheeks, a look of rapture on her face.

"Ahh, this is so good. How is it possible that every single word out of her mouth just clicks into place like that?"

Simon listened to the lecture in silence, taking notes. Then Dick jabbed him in the arm with an elbow.

"You're only ever quiet in Toxicology class. Something wrong?"

"Huh? Not really."

Time slipped by, and the Toxicology lecture came to an end. The students packed up their things and filed out of the classroom.

Simon was about to leave as well when—

'Oh?'

Someone familiar caught his eye.

None other than Jane's teaching assistant. He remembered her from before, when she'd coached him through sparring drills ahead of the Duel Evaluation. Ever since that session, she'd seemed to be avoiding him for some reason.

"Ah!"

She'd been glancing around the hallway, and the moment she spotted Simon, she hurried over.

"Simon!"

"Hello, Assistant. What brings you here……"

Instead of answering, she fired off a question of her own.

"Have you decided what mission you're doing this weekend?"

"No, I'm still weighing my options."

"Well, then that's perfect timing!"

She grinned and continued.

"Professor Jane is calling for you."

Simon arrived at Jane's laboratory alongside the assistant. She lowered her voice to a near-whisper.

"The Professor has been rather on edge lately, what with everything that's happened. Do keep that in mind."

"Understood. Thank you for the warning."

"Good luck in there."

The assistant drew a deep breath and knocked politely, twice.

"Professor Jane. I've brought Simon."

A voice from beyond the door bade him enter. She opened the door and inclined her head slightly toward Simon. He bowed politely in return and stepped inside.

Jane was, as always, buried beneath a tower of paperwork. Her actual office was supposedly in Kizen headquarters — if this laboratory was buried this deep, he couldn't even imagine what the paper situation at the main office looked like.

"Have a seat."

She didn't spare him so much as a glance, her quill still scratching away.

"Thank you."

Simon sat down, folded his hands atop his knees, and straightened his back rigidly.

As it had been last time, every face-to-face with Jane was nerve-wracking.

"A Nominated Mission has come in for you, Simon."

A nominated mission.

Unlike standard missions, which students were free to choose from once posted, a Nominated Mission was one where an external client personally specified which student would carry it out.

Naturally, only someone with enough influence over Kizen — a genuine heavyweight, or a magnate of considerable wealth — could manage such a thing.

"Please review the details."

Jane held out a request form that was neither white nor blue, but golden. Simon's eyes gleamed as he read through it.

By the time Simon finished reading, his eyes had gone wide enough to pop out of his head.

'A D-rank request paying 1,000 gold?!'

Double the 500 gold he'd scraped together through shenanigans on the last mission. This, then, was the difference a Nominated Mission made — the class of the fee was on another level entirely. On top of that, curiosity was blooming about this event called the Undead Exhibition.

"Of course, being nominated doesn't mean you're obligated. Will you take it?"

"Yes! Absolutely!"

Interest and reward. A mission that satisfied both was hard to come by.

Given the nature of VIP escort work, the difficulty could swing wildly depending on who the client turned out to be — but even at worst, it was only five days, wasn't it?

More than worth doing, Simon decided.

"Then we'll count it as accepted."

Jane scrawled her signature across the request form in quick strokes and slammed a stamp down with a thud.

"As it happens, I was considering sending some henchmen to this exhibition anyway. You've spared me the trouble."

"I'm sorry?"

"For the modern necromancer, investigating and analyzing new trends is an enormously important task."

She held out several documents to him.

"While you're at it, make sure to observe the event thoroughly. And once you return, I'd like these filled out."

"These are……"

Reports. Not just any reports — professional-grade documents requiring projected investment value, core competencies, and estimated future returns.

Simon's face went slack with disbelief.

"Are you sure someone like me should be writing reports this important? I'm still just a……"

"A Kizen student is no amateur. Kizen wears the shape of a school, but it is also a salaried, full-fledged organization."

She set down her quill and laced her fingers together.

"You will be the only Kizen representative at this exhibition. Attend the event with that in mind. Under no circumstances are you to bring disgrace upon us."

"Yes, I'll keep that firmly in mind!"

Somehow, it felt like the scope of this assignment had ballooned far beyond what he'd expected.

A 1,000-gold contract, and representing Kizen itself.

Simon rose from his seat with his heart pounding.

That night, Pier's Ruins.

[Kyaaaah! Blue Harbor!]

Erzsébet shrieked with delight, hands pressed to her cheeks.

[I hear it is a truly famous seaside resort!]

[We are not going there to play, Erzsébet.]

Pier said, polishing his greatsword with a dry cloth, swish, swish.

[I am told that island has long been isolated from the mainland and developed a unique ecosystem of its own. We shall seek out new undead to add to the Legion's strength……]

[Commander! How does this garment strike you?]

The instant Erzsébet touched herself, her dress transformed into a swimsuit. Caught completely off guard, Simon's face flared crimson.

"……Erze!"

[Or how about this one?]

Another touch, and this time it became a swimsuit with considerably less coverage. Simon whipped his head away.

"Going for a swim? Aren't undead supposed to have a bad time in seawater?"

[It does sting to touch. But surely there is something to be said for a wide-open beach and the resort atmosphere, no? This maiden is so looking forward to it she shan't sleep a wink tonight!]

"……You don't sleep anyway."

Pier pounded the stone altar with his fist, bang, bang.

[Shameful, Erzsébet! How can you call yourself an officer of the Legion with such rotten notions festering in your skull!]

[Better than being a self-righteous stick-in-the-mud old relic, I'd say.]

[……? What manner of speech is that?]

[I have been learning the slang of today's Kizen students, in case I ever need to disguise myself as one of them!]

[I understand not a word of it, and yet it puts me in a foul mood regardless!]

"Okay, okay. That's enough fighting, you two."

Simon rose to his feet and opened his subspace pocket. What he pulled out was an empty suit of armor.

"This one's yours, Pier. I ordered it a size bigger than your old one."

[Oh! Yes — this is more like it!]

"And Erze, let me say this upfront: I have to focus on the mission. I probably won't have time for fun."

Erzsébet, who had been cycling between a sundress and swimwear, put on a sullen expression.

"Just enjoy a vacation on the beach. I'll drop by for a little while after the mission's done, too."

[Truly?!]

She clapped her hands together in delight. Simon turned to Pier.

"What will you do, Pier?"

[I shall roam the island and scout for anything of use! If trouble stirs, contact me at once!]

"Yup, sounds good."

Simon stretched his arms toward the ceiling.

"Looking forward to tomorrow."

The next morning.

Simon was the very first of the Kizen students to step onto the teleportation array. This time, he rode it entirely alone, with no other students alongside him.

Wooooom!

He surrendered himself comfortably to the now-familiar sensation.

When he opened his eyes a short while later—

'Whoa.'

A landscape utterly unlike anything he'd known stretched out before ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him.

A sky so wide and blue it seemed to open up his chest, a beach of white sand, and beyond it, emerald waves crashing against the shore.

This was the island heralded as a paradise blessed by nature itself — Blue Harbor.

A young couple kissing nearby jumped out of their skin at the sight of Simon suddenly materializing out of thin air, and clutched each other in alarm.

Simon gave an embarrassed smile and bowed his head.

"Have a lovely day~"

Moving to a more secluded spot, he released Erzsébet and Pier from his subspace.

"I'd appreciate it if you both avoided doing anything too conspicuous here."

Having said that, Simon glanced back and forth between Erzsébet in her bikini and Pier in his full plate armor gleaming under the blazing sun, then pressed a hand to his forehead.

"……Not being conspicuous is a lost cause. Just please, don't cause any incidents."

[Kheheh! Worry not, boy!]

[Freedom and happiness await this maiden!]

Having parted ways with the two undead as well, Simon set off following the map recorded in his request form. As an island, it wasn't particularly large, but the more he saw of it, the more beautiful the city seemed.

The buildings were sleek and modern, the streets immaculate and tidy. Catching his eye as well was the way every single rooftop in town was painted blue, as if to hammer home the name Blue Harbor.

'Ah, here it is.'

He'd arrived at his destination. A mansion that was unusually grand and ornate even among the city's modern buildings — the kind of place, it seemed obvious at a glance, where a magnate capable of paying 1,000 gold for a five-day job would live.

'A little nervous, actually.'

Simon straightened his tie, ran a hand through his bangs, and walked forward.

Two burly men who looked to be guards stood before the gates.

"H-hello. I'm……"

Whoosh!

The guards split to either side and, in the same motion, bowed at a crisp ninety degrees, lowering their posture.

"Welcome! His Excellency has been awaiting you."

He hadn't even needed to show the request form — the Kizen uniform alone had given him away. Simon passed lightly through the mansion's gate.

"Wahahaha!"

The moment he stepped inside, a child's laughter rang out from the garden.

A boy was scampering about with a garden trowel in one hand and a basket in the other. His face and clothes were smeared with dirt, while two middle-aged men in butler's uniforms floundered helplessly, trying to rein him in.

"Oh!"

Just then, the boy spotted Simon and pointed at him.

"Kizen! He's here!"

The boy flung his trowel to the ground and came ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tearing over.

"Your clothes are suuuper cool!"

And then he began groping at Simon's uniform with his dirt-caked hands.

Simon wept on the inside. That laundry was barely a day old.

"Hi. What are you doing out here?"

"Playing! I'm Shun!"

"I'm Simon. I'd like to see the Count — where should I go?"

The boy smiled broadly.

"I'm the Count!"

"Hmm?"

Behind him, the butlers approached with polite coughs.

"Do mind your manners. May I present His Excellency, Count Shun Oldone."

Simon's eyes went wide.

So this little kid was the client who'd paid 1,000 gold?