Chapter 129
Chapter 129
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: Budget Cuts and a Returning Elf
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A leisurely day with no customers.
I sipped my tea relaxedly while checking the world's news through the newspaper.
- The empire's magic faction, the Blaster School, develops an innovative attack magic circle capable of destroying city walls reinforced with magic barriers.
The Darkness School and Goldmoon School question the reliability of Blaster magic due to stability issues.
- The Goldmoon School, which commercially utilizes magic, invests in new technology development with the Meister School.
They vow to deliver new hope to remote areas struggling with mana shortages by granting them magic.
-[Exclusive] Imperial Academy Dean Donald Markson faces various corruption allegations...
- Budgets for unnecessary fringe magic factions are deemed excessively high, making cuts not just an option but a necessity...
The magic newspaper covered newly invented spells and gossip about existing mages.
"Budget cuts for fringe magic factions..."
Hold on.
As I scanned the list, I unwittingly furrowed my brow.
-Illusion School -25% reduction target.
"Our Illusion Magic School is on the chopping block too?"
A whopping 25% cut?
We get 80 gold a year right now—that kind of slash means they're taking away 20 gold.
Are they kidding?
Designating us for cuts without even bothering to notify us once.
"No matter that we're a fringe school with the fewest students, lowest applicant rates, and top spot for low prestige, this is too much."
It stings a little.
Is it our fault we have so few people?
Isn't the real problem society's warped view of the Illusion School?
We're doing our best, at least.
We're dead last in magic development output due to our absolute shortage of mages, but our development rate is number one.
Of course it is.
One of us is Master Meiko, hailed as a once-in-a-generation genius illusion mage.
And the other—me—is also counted among history's top prodigies.
What better efficiency could there be?
This is ridiculous.
"I've got to fight this."
They can't just inflate or slash budgets on a whim.
Is the budget a rubber band?
Give and take at will?
I activated the crystal orb for short-range communication.
An excellent invention from the Meister School.
It was a communication orb modified to transmit video—like letters but in real time.
The catch: the range is limited, so only the imperial family, Magic Department, and a handful in the schools use them within the empire.
-Yes, this is the Magic Department budget officer. How may I help?
A voice with the distinctive drawl of a bureaucrat came through.
The orb showed a man's face, eyes half-closed like he was bored and exhausted.
"This is Max, research professor at the Illusion School. I'm calling about the budget."
-Saw the paper?
"Yeah. It was in the magic newspaper."
-Yes, exactly as reported. We're proceeding with cuts for underperforming factions. The Illusion School is one of them.
The budget drone spat it out flatly.
"Why pull this without prior notice? As you know, the protocol is to contact the faction head in advance."
-We tried contacting several times. But you were always unavailable.
"Why didn't you reach out to me?"
-You're not the head, Professor Max.
"...What? You think it's okay to do this without notifying the proxy?"
A sigh came through.
-Honestly, doesn't the Illusion School get disproportionate funding for its size? Just two people, yet you snag over 50 gold a year consistently. This year it's 80 gold.
"That's because of our research achievements..."
-Still too much.
"Hey, do you have any idea how much it costs to research a single spell?"
-The selection process applies equally to all factions. We reduce aid for those generating their own income. Same rules here.
I know that.
That's why Meister and Goldmoon forgo aid entirely.
They even pay taxes on their earnings.
Those taxes buy them influence and sway in the empire—that's their edge.
"Even so, this isn't how you do cuts."
-We recently got a document from the tax office. About you, Max of the Illusion School, opening a shop a few months back.
"..."
-Know that your earnings there exceed the aid threshold?
"What? Exceed the threshold? Factor in magic material costs, raw supplies, rent, labor—our net profit is barely 5 gold a month."
5 gold.
That's what our shop nets monthly.
Of course, gross sales exceed dozens of gold.
Some customers drop several gold at a time.
Even skimping by powering magic circles with my own mana has limits.
We spend big on dyes for circles, scrolls for house calls, tools, etc.
Expansion costs.
So, average monthly net: 5 gold.
A lot of money, sure.
Enough for five months of living expenses for an average imperial citizen.
But not grounds to cut aid.
-Don't you know? Our threshold: per-person monthly average over 2 gold means a 20% cut.
Hearing that, I squeezed my eyes shut.
Our Illusion School has just two members.
My 5 gold a month averages to 2.5 with Master.
Ignoring what she spends or research outflows.
What a shitty imperial law.
"..."
-We follow regulations. Sorry for no prior notice, but it's out of our hands. You get it?
"You're handling it like this?"
-That's the rule.
Damn rules.
-It takes effect next month. You might need to return some funds. Note that.
The connection cut off.
"Hoo."
A sigh escaped me.
"So fucking powerless."
In illusions, I toy with knight captains in my palm, puppet heroes to my will, bend saintesses to mine.
But not in reality.
"They wanted it, that's why it worked."
Not because I was strong enough to subjugate them.
"Damn."
I was pissed at my own helplessness more than anyone.
Angry, too.
'Even flying high, it's just illusion.'
My chest burned.
"Haven't felt this powerless in ages."
Lately, I'd only felt omnipotent.
'What do I tell Master?'
She'd drop research, rush back, and hustle for results if she heard.
I didn't want to burden someone slaving for illusion magic's progress.
"No choice."
Whining won't restore the cuts.
I'm just an illusion mage.
Even the head gets ignored by the Magic Department.
They only care for named factions: Blaster, Goldmoon, Darkness.
Of course.
"They're the majority, hogging all the issues."
Anyway, cuts start next month—inevitable.
Time to think how to make money.
"But this sticky displeasure won't fade."
I clicked my tongue.
"If the budget officer were a woman, I'd have charmed her with illusion."
If I could enchant a hero, why not some desk jockey?
I let out a heavy sigh.
"We earned too much, huh."
I surveyed the shop.
Items bought with state aid, plus customer revenue, decorated everywhere.
From shared uniforms for washing to beds, chairs, sofas—all high-end.
Meticulous for customer comfort.
Unlike the bare-bones past, now it's filled out.
Fancy teacups, magic tools, adult pleasure goods.
"Our shop's improved, but not by that much."
Sighing off the rising anger from unfair treatment—
Knock knock knock.
A knock at the door.
"Who is it?"
Rising for the sudden guest, I opened up.
"Ahem! You're inside, huh."
Reina the elf stood there.
"Long time no see. Thought you'd stopped coming."
"Hmph, don't say it like that—makes me sound petty! It was decent, for inferior species make."
Reina's last visit was with Yuris.
I passed out handling both illusions; they recognized each other, so full refunds and sent them off.
'Immature and arrogant.'
Overconfident I could manage two.
No repeat mistakes now.
"Coming back means you want another go?"
"Ahem... Yeah. Heading back to the elf forest soon. Won't be here awhile, so..."
She sighed faintly.
Her breath felt hotter than usual—not just my imagination.
"Make it solid this time."
"Best service guaranteed."
I let her in.
Cuts are cuts; customers come first.
"What illusion today?"
"...Want to feel forced by an inferior species again."
Human ravishment, huh.
"Ah, that we can definitely..."
"B-but add one thing."
"Go ahead."
Reina hesitated, then spoke carefully.
"On the way back to the elf forest, getting done by our escort mercenaries..."
Ah, that kink.
I get it.
"Fully doable."
"And, one more thing!"
Reina's ears flapped up and down.
"Th-the one ravishing me... your face, please. Other inferiors are... unsatisfying."
"...Noted."
"Then, that—request it."
Blushing Reina dashed to the shop shower.
My face, huh.
'Do elves dig my looks?'
Easier visualization for me—win-win.
Time to work hard.