A Hundred Gold for a Grand Mage
Because of the oracle proclaiming that a hero would emerge from Elysium Academy, the eyes of the entire continent were fixed on the school.
As for me, I had quite a few tangled connections of my own. Unfortunately, the vast majority of them were bad ones.
If someone like me became a professor at Elysium Academy, no small number of problems were bound to arise.
That was why I couldn't be a professor.
And so I had chosen the security force instead.
Security guard was the only job that let me involve myself in the Academy's affairs without actually being a professor or a student.
Even so, even the security force needed a thread connecting it to the students.
Leon was that thread.
"I'm sorry— you're telling me not to hire a TA?"
Leon asked back, as if he couldn't believe his ears. I gave a light nod.
"A TA is the last legally sanctioned slave in the Empire, sir. A professor's hands and feet, and you're telling me not to hire one? What kind of order is—"
Leon grumbled, if only obliquely. That was how indispensable a TA was to a professor.
In the original game, there had in fact been a professor with a severe case of paranoia. Convinced his TA would steal his research, he refused to hire one at all.
In response, Elysium Academy's policy was to assign a security guard to any professor who couldn't secure a TA.
If a professor fails to hire a TA, a security guard is automatically assigned.
That was the real reason I'd told Leon not to hire one.
Of course, I could have explained these intricate circumstances and ordered him to keep his mouth shut, but—
"Do you need an explanation?"
Leon's face drained of color in an instant. He shook his head in a frantic hurry.
"No, sir! Understood, sir!!"
Just then, the train began to slow to a stop. Lavish buildings came into view beyond the window.
The capital.
"Then I'll see you next time."
I gathered my things and rose from my seat.
"N-next time—?"
Leaving Leon's anxious voice behind—
The imperial capital was dazzling. Magical artifacts adorned the medieval Gothic architecture, lending the city the feel of the old world and the new blended in just the right proportions.
I headed straight for Magic Tower Street, where the towers clustered.
In this world's setting, magic towers were less ivory towers of knowledge than commercial enterprises.
It came down to the nature of magic itself. Just as a knight needed a sword, casting spells required mana stones.
The problem was that mana stones were prohibitively expensive. A mage needed mountains of money.
That was why the towers wore names like the Arcana Group or the Lumen Corporation—names that sounded for all the world like multi-level marketing firms.
The first thing that greeted me upon entering Magic Tower Street was a forest of enormous buildings.
The tower corporations—corporate giants among magic towers. Fitting their "corporation" label, every single building was opulent and imposing.
Among them, one pair stood out in particular: the Twin Magic Tower, two spires rising side by side.
Doing well for themselves, I see.
I nodded with satisfaction.
Thanks to the error produced by maxing every stat to S, I had possessed this body twelve years before the game's intro even began.
Twelve years of head start, and yet—because the game's genre was academy drama—there was precious little useful information to be gained from it.
Still, a few things had been worth salvaging, and that Twin Magic Tower was one of them.
In the game, the Twin Magic Tower was a rising newcomer fated for explosive growth.
In other words: a startup destined to become a corporate titan.
I had invested a tidy sum in it back when it was first founded.
But my destination today was not the Twin Magic Tower.
I passed it by and pushed deeper into the district. Soon enough, buildings appeared—ones of an ambiguous height that strained the word "tower." The mid-sized and small towers.
Out front, robed figures had emerged to hawk their wares.
"A secret potion that thickens your hair! It REALLY works!"
"Here at Magius Holdings, we promise honest, transparent settlements! We will absolutely, positively never run off with your money!"
I went further in. Eventually the street gave way to something like a shantytown.
My steps stopped at the far end of it.
A house on the verge of collapse. And yet it had a signboard—proudly declaring, in flowery script, Constilla Magic Tower.
Found it.
There was exactly one reason I remembered Constilla Magic Tower: Andy, the youngest grand mage in history, lived here.
The lore said he was tear-jerkingly poor, but I didn't expect this.
I clicked my tongue at the ramshackle shack that looked ready to fall down at any moment.
Still, it boded well for me. A chance to buy at the bottom.
A mage's growth rate varied dramatically with investment. Andy was a genius who had become a grand mage despite receiving next to no backing at all.
So what would happen if I poured investment into that Andy?
Andy is a must-buy. No question.
"Buying a mage" sounded strange, perhaps, but in this world it was perfectly ordinary business. The Magic Tower Coalition even sold standard mage employment contracts.
Those contracts were the Coalition's single largest source of revenue, and they were managed with ruthless thoroughness.
I pushed on the door. No— I tried to push it. Before I could, it broke off entirely.
THUD. The door hit the ground with a heavy, wooden crash.
The shabby interior of the tower came into view.
Among magical artifacts that looked scavenged from who-knows-where sat a white-haired old man and a small boy.
Both of them stared at me, dumbstruck.
"Ah. You're... a lord, were you?"
The two exchanged a glance. Then the boy wailed at the top of his lungs.
"Noooooo! The only heirloom my mother left me!"
"You wretcheeeeecd! What is the meaning of this!! Do you have any idea how precious that door was!"
Andy wailed with full operatic commitment, and the old man followed up with a bellow of his own. This was clearly not their first rehearsal.
"A premium custom door, sourced all the way from Sherne Island across the sea, by my late wife's own hand! Waaah!!"
"You've destroyed the treasure of our tower!! How will you answer for this!! Giving your life wouldn't begin to cover it!!"
"Perhaps we could settle for, oh, fifty silver or so—"
The shameless performance went on and on. I raised a hand, lightly.
"Andy, right?"
"That's me. But, um... who might you be?"
"I'd like to sign an exclusive employment contract."
"...Exclusive employment?"
"Noooooo! The treasure of our tower—!"
"Gramps, I think this one's a customer?"
"What madman would come to OUR tower? He's a con artist, clearly!"
"It's not like we have anything worth scamming, though."
"Well... true."
"Anyway, come inside. Oh dear, dear customer, right this way!!"
Andy courteously offered me a chair. I ignored it and spoke.
"I want to sign an exclusive employment contract."
"Ahem. Well, I am a bit on the pricey side. Roughly how much were you thinking?"
"How much do you need?"
At my counter-question, Andy's eyes wavered wildly. After another glance at the old man, Andy thrust out all five fingers with great force.
"Five gold coins!"
...Five gold coins?
Now, it wasn't a trivial sum. On average, it was enough for one commoner to live on for about four months—call it ten million won by Earth's standards.
But mages commanded a steep premium. A genuinely skilled mage cost far, far more.
A future grand mage for a mere five gold coins—
I couldn't help it; a laugh burst out of me. Misreading my reaction, Andy hastily tacked on more.
"I'm worth every bit of that, I'll have you know! I even passed the Elysium Academy entrance exam! Fine, then... four? No! Three! I can't go any lower!! This is highway robbery!"
Andy's fingers folded down one by one, fast.
Granted, I had come to buy at the bottom—but that didn't mean I intended to grind him into the dirt.
This was, above all, an investment.
I held up a single finger.
"One? Even so, exclusive employment for just one—"
"No. A hundred."
"A hundred silver? Pfft! Come on! Even you can't— no way! You'd have to give at least five hundred—"
"In gold."
"...I'm sorry, what?"
I upended my pouch.
Gold coins came pouring out in a bright cascade. A crisp chime rang through the air as a small mountain of gold piled up on the floor.
Andy's jaw dropped wide open.
Then, abruptly, Andy's eyes turned grave.
"Don't tell me you... fancy boys?"
Andy asked, ever so delicately.
I scowled hard at the non sequitur.
"What the hell kind of talk is that?"
"Well, I mean—a man dropping a hundred gold coins on someone like me? A handsome young noble with wicked intentions is just the more realistic explanation, isn't it? And 'exclusive employment' sounds awfully suspicious too—"
"Just write up the contract."
I held out the Magic Tower Coalition's standard contract form. Andy examined it with a grave expression—then let out a piercing shriek.
"You want me to spend a hundred gold coins within half a semester?!"
"That's right. That's the condition."
Andy was a guaranteed winning lottery ticket. There was no reason to economize. If anything, I needed him to burn through money to accelerate his growth.
The problem was Andy's spending habits. His modest, timid ambition was a liability in a mage. He needed to be made to spend.
"Spend all hundred gold, and in six months I'll invest another two hundred."
"He's insane."
Andy muttered a rough curse, clumsy and half-swallowed. His face had gone chalk white.
"No, seriously—why are you doing this to me?"
Andy demanded, eyeing me with a look of pure terror. I quietly held that transparent gaze.
There was plenty I could have said.
Soon hell will descend upon the living world, and the Outer Gods will set the continent alight and tear it apart. To stop it, even pouring gold coins into you—a guaranteed grand mage—won't be enough—
Things like that.
But explaining it all would take far too long, and it would be deathly dull besides.
So—
"If you don't want it, forget it."
I slid the contract away, just slightly. Andy snatched at it in a panic.
The old man, silent until now, called out to Andy.
"Andy, an exclusive contract is not something to sign lightly. This is a leash you wear for life—"
"Huh? Gramps, what—"
Andy had already signed.
The old man's eyes narrowed as they turned on me. A razor-edged sensation prickled at my throat.
I tapped the hilt of my sword with one finger, tap, tap.
Just then, Andy put on a playful expression.
"You really won't be fancying boys, right? I need time to mentally prepare—"
The relentless boy-craze routine made my brows knit.
He isn't even a boy to begin with, so why does he keep going on about pederasty—
Still, saying that out loud might set the old man in motion, so I played dumb.
"Say that one more time and I'm voiding the contract."
"A joke! A JOOOOOKE! Hahaha! Joking! I beg you! Please! My bad! Gramps, apologize too, quickly!"
Andy dropped to his knees and clung on for dear life. At Andy's plea, the old man knelt down alongside him.
It was, admittedly, professional-grade acting.
Quite satisfied, I collected the contract.
I had just purchased the youngest, freshest grand mage of them all.
For the measly price of one hundred gold coins.
I swore on my life it was a steal.
"Get ready. There's somewhere I need to go."
"Yes? Where are we going?"
"To introduce you to a friend."
A friend?
Andy tilted his head, then snapped off a hopelessly sloppy salute.
"I'll be ready in a jiffy, Boss! Sir, yes sir!!"
Grave?
The old man murmured the name written on the contract.
The man had appeared out of nowhere and dropped a hundred gold coins on Andy. Andy's talent shouldn't have been known to anyone yet—
Did he see through who I am?
No. If the man truly knew the old man's identity, he never would have dared comport himself so brazenly. And above all, if even a whisper of who the old man was had leaked, those corporate vultures would have come crashing through the door long ago.
"I'm riiiich! Filthy rich! Gramps! Shutters down! We're closed for the day! Meat buns tonight—my treat!"
Andy's laughter shattered his brooding. The old man regarded Andy with grave, steady eyes.
"Andy. You must never, ever release that transformation magic."
"I know, I know. Whew—being this pretty really is hard work."
"A flower without a fence around it will always draw the bugs. Careful, and careful again."
"Yes, I'll keep it in mind. Haah, honestly. Why did Mom have to give birth to me uselessly pretty and just make my life complicated."
Andy grumbled with utter sincerity. The old man smiled gently and stroked Andy's hair.
"Can't be helped. Your mother was simply that beautiful."
At the old man's words, Andy giggled.
"So what do you suppose he does, anyway? What kind of person could toss around a hundred gold coins like—"
"Hard to say."
"Some high-ranking noble? He had such a refined air about him."
"Not a noble."
"Why not?"
Because he smells of blood.
Thick enough to drown in—
The old man swallowed the words with effort.
"Fufu! As if I couldn't spend a mere hundred gold coins! He underestimated me! Starting today, I'm eating three meat buns a day! Two cakes for dessert! Ehehe—"
Andy jingled the coin pouch and let out a villainous snicker.
Hm. Did I raise him a bit too frugally—?
The old man was beginning to worry about Andy—in an entirely different sense than before.