Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 52
>Chapter Title: Tough Guys
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Right after leaving the underground market.
Aster stepped into a quiet alley and took off Karahen's robe, storing it in his subspace.
‘Heh heh.’
His face was full of smiles.
Why wouldn’t it be?
Two entire subspaces.
He’d swiped half the wealth the underground merchant had amassed over a lifetime in one fell swoop.
‘Well… not sure if it was actually half.’
Were those underground merchant bastards a bit sneaky?
They might’ve prepared a couple more secret stashes just in case.
But even so, he was in such a good mood that he’d generously forgive them.
‘Their guts must be twisting. Poor things.’
He thought their hearts must ache, but the grin on his face was blooming so wide it was practically overflowing.
By now, the underground merchant was probably pounding the ground, wailing and cursing the Decullans?
Yeah, no doubt.
And why not?
‘Because I carefully picked out the best of the best.’
Behold.
Sparkling.
Piles of gold coins and jewels radiating brilliant light between the entrances to his subspaces.
He’d gathered only assets that could be disposed of anywhere, anytime, without any issues tracing back to their origins—no loose ends.
Call it raiding their slush fund?
On the other hand, it was a chance to rethink the Decullans’ notoriety.
‘These tough guys.’
How much hell had they raised to terrify even those hardened underground merchants? It had to be beyond imagination.
Ahem, sure, in his past life he’d dipped into villainy himself, but nothing like this. Really.
Anyway, pockets full—couldn’t ask for better.
Except…
“Hmm.”
Aster perched slantwise on a stack of crates in the alley.
‘Pisses me off.’
He crossed his arms, furrowing his brow.
The emotion in his eyes was pure spite.
The underground merchant, cowering at the Decullan name. The full story he’d spilled had rubbed Aster the wrong way.
‘Something felt fishy… so there was a backer?’
The backer the merchant had cautiously revealed was Evelyn.
One of the three great trading conglomerates of the eastern continent.
Goldrin’s precious daughter!
The merchant lord’s kid whose financial muscle outstripped even noble houses.
Her reputation was so legendary at the academy that even Aster—who couldn’t care less about academy life—had heard it until his ears blistered.
The rumors went like this.
‘Impeccable conduct.’
Graceful as any noble lady?
‘Harmonious relationships.’
She could’ve been arrogant with her background, but she was kind to everyone regardless.
And that’s not all?
‘Excellent class attitude.’
Top of the class, model student no one could touch.
But who knew?
‘That she’d be pulling shady crap like this behind the scenes.’
The merchant’s guess was this.
- Uh… I think she’s trying to set up an underground market at the academy for buying and selling grades.
“Underground market? Underground markeeeeet?”
Crack.
His fist clenched hard on the crate, splintering the wood effortlessly.
As a righteous Troubleshooter by nature.
‘A black market in the sacred academy?’
No way in hell.
He might’ve lent a hand if Damian were sly enough to cheat, but that was purely hypothetical.
The strict yardstick of justice—upright only when needed—was screaming now.
“My stomach… my stomach hurts.”
That’s how people are.
It stings more to see someone else gain a coin than to lose one yourself.
Some pick the straight and narrow, stuck tutoring when they never signed up for it.
Others pour money in to coast and rake it easy?
This ain’t justice.
As a Troubleshooter pursuing good and embracing evil—no, upholding justice—he couldn’t stand by!
‘Next week, lunchtime, right?’
Aster recalled the rendezvous between Debay and the seller.
Exactly one week away.
It’d be a week full of tough choices.
He’d pulled so many dirty pranks before that he wasn’t sure how to sabotage this one right.
Of course, if the merchant blabbed today’s events to Evelyn, the schedule might change…
‘Fat chance.’
Why would that guy undermine his own credibility?
Anyway.
‘Take it slow, think it through.’
Needed to be careful.
How to crash it so spectacularly the rumors would call it legendary.
If you’re gonna wreck it, might as well shove a massive middle finger their way—that’s the decent thing.
“By the way, B-12 sector, right?”
This was the immediate priority.
The condition Furion had offered for the data binder.
Help with PvP combat training.
In a way, this fit right into the [Make Damian a Model Student] project too.
Aster gathered his thoughts and headed toward the main street.
* * *
B-12 Sector, Building 13, basement.
Private training ground, [Sage’s Retreat].
In the personal waiting room, Furion waited for Aster with a stony face.
‘That Aster bastard…’
It’d been over two hours since he’d bolted claiming sudden business.
He was starting to boil.
Sure, Aster had said he’d be there by five at the latest, but that didn’t mean showing up exactly at five was fine.
No wonder he was pissed.
But what was really getting under Furion’s skin wasn’t just Aster’s lateness.
It was something bigger…
“……”
Across from him.
A silver-haired girl sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, eyes closed.
Dalia de Dinai.
‘Daring to keep Dalia waiting?’
He hadn’t liked it from the start.
- Should I ask Aster for help with PvP combat training?
A few days ago, Dalia had suddenly mentioned Aster.
Truth be told, Furion had noticed her paying attention to Aster long before.
And why not?
That fight with Doranpega’s second son Hickster—it had shocked even Furion.
But out of nowhere?
‘They barely even know each other?’
Sure, given Dalia’s usual style, it wasn’t that odd.
Her straight-to-the-point, no-frills talk was the same even before the esteemed patriarch.
But would a guy like Aster just nod along to that?
‘Hell no.’
From watching him in M3 class, Aster oozed zero motivation in everything.
What to call it?
He didn’t seem like a student there to learn.
No matter the lecture, he was utterly indifferent.
Slouched back in his chair, arms crossed, taking in—or rather, spectating—the class…
Yeah, spectating.
Perfect word.
Not sleeping, not goofing off—just watching the lecture like it was a play.
Asking that guy for PvP training help?
‘The same guy who ignores Damian right next to him?’
A proper friend would guide a slacker back to the straight path.
- Friend, what’s the professor saying?
- Dunno. You not sleeping? Nap time.
Even if lazy, suggesting a nap during class?!
That’s why he’d been gauging him lately and finally offered the precious data binder.
‘Didn’t know why… but seemed like she wanted to boost Damian’s grades.’
Figured that might move him.
It stung, though.
‘My… my precious data binder…’
He’d scrounged and scraped it together before even enrolling.
Some items weren’t even on the market—priceless stuff money couldn’t buy!
But.
‘Ugh.’
Better than Dalia getting lip from that rude Black-White Slums drifter.
Yeah, that was it.
Playing nice with his rude attitude, swallowing the humiliation and complying.
All for what Dalia wanted.
But.
‘Daring to make Dalia wait 2 hours, 17 minutes, 31 seconds. 32. 33…?’
Rage boiling over.
By the time he’d counted to 2 hours 18 minutes, Furion finally snapped.
“Dalia!”
“…Yeah.”
Dry voice.
Eyes still closed, but Furion was used to it and didn’t mind.
“Let’s rethink this. Beating Hickster from Doranpega is impressive, sure, but he’s not someone worth learning from. No way a rude punk like that has the temperament.”
Nothing refreshes like teaching or learning from someone.
A noble act only humans—and cultured ones at that—could perform!
To Furion, Aster was utterly lacking in such refinement.
And that’s not all.
“His fighting style isn’t a mage’s. What mage trades punches with a martial artist? That’s… that’s slum rat stuff!”
Impressive, yeah—but without Hickster as the opponent, it was just a brawl.
No way a mage nobly pursuing truth would stoop to that.
And Dalia learning from such a fight?
‘Ridiculous!’
Better to seek out martial students for lessons—a hundred times more refined.
But Dalia stayed silent, whether sensing Furion’s frustration or not.
Eyes closed, lips shut tight.
“How about…”
Finally, in exasperation, Furion uttered Dalia’s least favorite words.
“How about requesting a renowned combat mage from the family? Or even calling in the family mages…!”
He clamped his mouth shut there.
Dalia had opened her eyes and was glaring at him.
“No.”
Dry, but chilling voice.
“……”
Furion sighed deeply and plopped his half-risen butt back down.
“Whew, fine. …Sorry.”
She was already struggling with her lacking talent.
The young patriarch and second son—geniuses without peer.
She trained day and night, talent be damned, just to step in their shadows.
But.
‘A little family help wouldn’t hurt…!’
Furion was at his wit’s end.
No one would bat an eye if she actively sought family aid.
Yet she shunned what she saw as cheating.
Lessons from family mages at the academy? Improper, or whatever.
Stubborn as hell.
‘Her PvP obsession’s probably… to catch up to the young patriarch and second son’s academy scores.’
Furion admired this Dalia sometimes, but other times wanted to crack open her skull in frustration.
As Furion slumped in defeat.
Crunch.
“…?”
A low sound from somewhere.
Crunch crunch.
Furion turned, puzzled.
When his gaze hit the source, his eyes bulged.
“…Wh-when?”
Aster standing blankly in one corner of the waiting area, clutching a box of macarons.
He bit into a crunchy one, then spoke in his usual deadpan tone.
“Not fighting anymore?”
“…W-We weren’t fighting.”
“Too bad. Wondering who’d win between branch and direct line. Rare sight, right?”
“……”
Furion gaped at the nonchalant attitude.
After a beat.
“W-Wait, how’d you even get in here?”
“You were taking forever. Dropped your name, staff showed me in.”
“Oh.”
Furion recalled instructing the staff.
But anyway.
“W-When exactly…?”
“‘Let’s rethink this’ onward?”
“…….”
He’d heard every word from start to finish.
Furion paled.
But Aster ignored him, claiming a spot on the sofa.
“……”
Dalia staring at Aster with wide eyes.
Aster held out a macaron.
“Want one?”
Nod.
She nodded.
Aster said.
“Trade you.”
“For what?”
“Furion. I’ll return him after exams. Gotta tutor Damian.”
That’s when Furion snapped to.
“What bullshit…!”
‘Tutor? Tutoring for reals?’
Insane.
He already regretted handing over the data binder.
Now tutor Blandoga’s young patriarch too?
Furion had watched their cafeteria chat from start to finish.
And Chenbi’s state then…
Those screams…
Forget that—he barely had time for his own studies.
He’d covered the exam scope, but studying goes to the last second.
Yet, why?
“…….”
Dalia frowning slightly, pondering.
Aster upped the ante right after.
“Buy a macaron, get a free PvP Combat Curriculum Special Package.”
The bonus was bigger than the main item.
Wait, no—
“What package? Dalia, you’re not falling for this nonsense, right? Aster, explain properly. I already paid with the data binder.”
Unfair deal.
He’d paid up front, Aster had agreed.
“So I’m offering too. One macaron.”
“What bullshit… No, more importantly, why’s Dalia deciding my fate? I’m a free-willed, proud bloodline of mighty Dinai!”
Furion ranted indignantly.
But Aster picked his ear, ignoring him, while Dalia’s furrowed brow deepened.
Aster drove the nail in.
“Feels like it.”
“…?”
Dalia glancing slyly at Aster.
“One more macaron.”
Aster pulled another from the box.
“…Deal.”
Quiet word.
Aster placed two macarons in Dalia’s outstretched hand.
Furion’s fate sealed.
“N-No, what the…?”
Just two macarons.
What package?
Bullshit—the real exchange was two macarons.
His own will? Not a factor. Decided by others.
As proud Dinai bloodline, he couldn’t accept this!
Furion shot to his feet.
“I can’t acknowledge—!”
“Sturdier than Hickster?”
One line.
Furion blinked.
Hickster trained in hardening ether arts, a martial user. Furion was a mana-wielding mage.
Obviously couldn’t be tougher.
But how to put it.
‘…’
Stood up all proud, sitting now felt lame.
Furion glared and stomped toward the corridor door.
“Where you going?”
“…Exams are soon. Gotta teach quick. Time’s wasting.”
Proper attitude.
Aster grinned brightly.
‘Nice.’
Unexpected bonus.
Felt at ease.
Data binder alone left him uneasy.
Chenbi tutoring was nice, but with exams looming…
‘Chenbi collapsing first probably.’
In that sense, Furion made a fine slave… er, teacher.
Seemed diligent with his own studies despite the playboy looks.
Better for Chenbi to have an ally than go solo.
Anyway.
“You want PvP combat training?”
Nod.
Dalia nodded.
Payment received—time to deliver.