The Golden Ticket

On the outskirts of the imperial capital, in a cramped, dilapidated residential district where the common folk huddled together, the evening sun was slowly setting over Civitas Square.

A carriage carrying a low-ranking priestess came to a halt on the cobblestone alleyway.

"Thank you for your hard work."

Clutching a pouch of gold coins tightly to her chest, the Female Priest stepped down from the carriage and looked up at her home, bathed in the glow of the twilight.

It was a narrow, vertically elongated three-story red brick building. Blackened by smog, it was a shabby boarding house of the sort that could be found anywhere in Civitas Square. Her family rented a single room on the second floor of this steep, cramped building.

Climbing the creaking wooden stairs, the Female Priest stood before her tightly shut door. Perhaps because she had just come from a grand mansion on Sanctum Hill, her home felt exceptionally worn and pitiful today.

Creak.

The door opened with the groan of rusty hinges.

"I'm home," the Female Priest said, her tired voice filling the small room.

Two different responses came from the living area—which also doubled as their bedroom—and the kitchen, separated only by a single door.

"You're back?"

In the corner of the living room, her eldest daughter, Valeria, lay face down on a worn-out sofa, reading a book. She didn't even look up as she gave her half-hearted reply.

Valeria was sixteen. Having hit the peak of her adolescence, she had become quite sullen lately.

On the other hand, a cheerful voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Mom! You're back? You must be exhausted!"

A fourteen-year-old girl came trotting over. It was her younger daughter, Ayla. Unlike Valeria, Ayla showed no signs of teenage rebellion; she was a bright, sweet, and innocent girl.

In Ayla's hands were a stubby pencil and a frayed notebook stained with ink. She had likely been studying at the kitchen table until the moment her mother walked in.

The eldest daughter had undoubtedly yielded the table to her younger sister and chosen to study on the sofa instead.

Visualizing the scene, the Female Priest felt a sharp ache in her chest.

I'm so sorry, girls...

Since her husband's passing, she had scraped by, working as a low-ranking priestess at the cathedral by day and running a street stall in Civitas Square by night. Then, one day, she had suddenly awakened her Holy Power.

A priest who awakened Holy Power could become a healing priest, earning far better treatment. Thanks to that, she had been able to leave the street stall behind.

Yet, reality remained harsh. She still couldn't grasp even the tail end of the middle class, forced to drift from one cramped rented room to another.

Of course, a low-ranking priest's earnings exceeded those of an ordinary worker. A single Minor Heal could bring in what a skilled artisan made in a day. But the problem was the murderous rent and her daughters' education costs.

Living inside the walls, securing a foothold in the safe district of Civitas Square, was by no means cheap. Furthermore, unlike her, both of her daughters had awakened their talents at an early age.

Her eldest was gifted in mathematics and had managed to enter the Academy's middle school, while her youngest had awakened a potential for Holy Power and was attending the seminary's primary division.

With a low-ranking priest's income, covering their tuition while paying rent was an agonizingly difficult feat.

Still... for the time being, I won't have to worry about money.

The Female Priest squeezed the pouch of gold coins in her arms. It was payment for two Minor Heals, plus hush money. Thanks to this unexpected windfall, her daughters could focus on their studies without worrying about money for a while.

Recalling that fact, she forced a bright expression onto her face.

"I'm a bit late, aren't I? You must be hungry. I'll make dinner right away."

Just then.

Thud.

Something slid through the gap under the front door she had just closed.

At the sound, the Female Priest turned her head toward the entrance.

Through the crack of the worn-out threshold, a luxurious envelope peeked out.

She carefully picked it up. The heavy, cream-colored parchment envelope was adorned with gold-trimmed edges. On the front, a crest was embossed in gold foil.

The Merkur Merchant Guild...?

The Merkur Merchant Guild. No healer could be ignorant of them. The medicines created by this company were nothing short of revolutionary. Southern fever, diabetes, even the purulent plague—the drugs produced by this guild were saving countless lives. Among healers, their medicines were practically essentials.

"Oh? Is that from the Merkur Merchant Guild?"

Her younger daughter, who aspired to be a healer, also knew the company well.

There was a good reason why this guild had become so famous among healers. When the guild first rose to prominence, most healing priests had viewed them with suspicion and hostility, calling them heretics. They feared the guild would take away their livelihood.

But that resentment hadn't lasted even a year, because the guild had declared they would only distribute their medicines through healers.

— "Medicine can become poison depending on how it is used. Therefore, our guild promises to distribute our products only through certified professionals."

The guild never sold directly to the public. Instead, they handed over all prescribing and dispensing rights to healers. It was an unprecedented, shocking declaration.

In an era where anyone could brew mystery potions and sell them, where anyone could be a snake-oil salesman, a monopoly on prescribing rights through healers was enough to shake the medical world to its core.

"Ugh... Mom, I hate that company."

"Oh? Why?"

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

"Their medicines are on our exam syllabus this term..."

The Female Priest smiled wryly at her younger daughter's grumbling. Despite such minor side effects, the Merkur Merchant Guild was a savior to priests.

Priests had a daily limit on how many heals they could cast. But after gaining prescription rights thanks to the guild, their reputation and income had exploded. The guild's decision was so highly regarded that the Holy King and the cardinals had even tried to consecrate Insulin. They had consecrated the vaccine immediately, no questions asked, even before it was officially released.

But why would this guild suddenly write to us...?

The Female Priest patted her complaining daughter's head and carefully broke the gold wax seal to open the envelope. The moment she unfolded the thick document inside, her eyes widened in disbelief.

"M-My goodness..."

Was this some kind of elaborate scam?

The moment she read the contents, the Female Priest felt her knees go weak. Meanwhile, her hands unconsciously tore open the second envelope.

An elite path that the Female Priest could never have reached no matter how hard she struggled in her lifetime. That opportunity was contained within these small envelopes.

Her heart began to pound wildly. She prayed this wasn't a dream.

But the excitement didn't last long.

"...Ah."

As her reason returned, she realized what these letters truly meant.

Hush money.

The timing was too perfect.

Not even half a day had passed since she witnessed the miracle of the Baron's eldest son being cured of the Devil's Disease, received a pouch of gold from the head of the household, and was given a chilling warning. Now, an offer so perfect it defied common sense had arrived. To call this a coincidence was absurd.

The Female Priest swallowed hard.

This was neither simple goodwill nor a scam. It was a lavish, irresistible carrot offered by a powerful figure to guarantee her absolute silence.

No, it makes sense.

She had not only made a mistake but had also witnessed a secret of a noble family—something that must never be revealed to the world. Yet, she had been spared. If so, it was only natural that she pay a corresponding price.

But instead of taking her life, they demanded her silence by paving a golden path for her two daughters. There was no reason to refuse. No, she couldn't possibly refuse.

She couldn't let her brilliant daughters struggle at a cramped kitchen table and a worn-out sofa because of tuition fees.

If anything... it's more than I deserve.

The heavier her lips, the brighter her daughters' lives would be. If she took this secret to her grave, she could break the cycle of poverty. This was an opportunity, not a leash.

She gripped the documents with trembling hands.

...But she couldn't stop the shaking.

She was merely a low-ranking priestess living hand-to-mouth. Now, she had entered the sight of a noble family of Sanctum Hill and the empire's largest merchant guild. An unimaginably high place where gold and power intertwined.

The thought of someone looking down on her from there for the rest of her life terrified her. Even if that gaze was merciful. No, because it was merciful, it was all the more terrifying.

...It's fine. I just have to keep my mouth shut.

The heavier her lips, the brighter her daughters' lives. If her lips loosened, all of this would vanish like mist. It was as simple as that. In exchange for becoming part of a massive secret, a massive opportunity ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had been granted. This was a blessing, not a curse.

Yes... I must gladly accept it. I can't thank them enough for the rest of my life.

She felt almost shameless for feeling afraid. Biting her trembling lip, she steeled her resolve.

"Mom? Why do you look like that? What is that?"

Her younger daughter's voice broke her train of thought. Ayla, holding her worn notebook and stubby pencil, tilted her head. Valeria, still lying on the sofa, cast a sidelong glance.

"Oh... Uh, this is..."

Flustered, the Female Priest tried to hide the documents behind her back, but quickly forced a gentle smile.

"Well, it's a letter from a 'scholarship foundation'."

"A scholarship foundation? What's that?"

"Um... well..."

Valeria frowned at her mother's vague answer. In this world, nobles or wealthy merchant guilds occasionally sponsored commoners. But it was usually to turn them into private soldiers or concubines. Research donations were also mostly to monopolize the results. Thus, the concept of a "scholarship foundation" that purely supported academic studies was foreign and unfamiliar.

The Female Priest didn't fully understand the foundation's intentions either. But under her eldest daughter's sharp, adolescent gaze, she stammered out an explanation, pretending to know.

"Y-Yes. Since you both study so hard and do so well in school... a wonderful merchant guild took notice of your talents and offered to cover all your tuition and living expenses."

Surprisingly, that was the exact truth. Though the eldest daughter remained suspicious, Ayla, completely devoid of doubt, jumped up and down in joy.

"Wow! Really?! Then can I live in the dormitory now?!"

"Y-Yes, dear."

"Hmph. It's obviously some scheme by the guild. Don't you know there's no such thing as a free lunch?"

The sixteen-year-old girl lifted her chin, trying to act chic and indifferent. But the corners of her mouth were already twitching. She couldn't hide her anticipation that the sorrow of yielding the kitchen table to her sister and studying on a shabby sofa might finally end.

"I'll take a look to make sure there aren't any toxic clauses. I'm studying law for the entrance exam anyway."

Valeria, acting mature, snatched the recommendation letter from her mother's hand. Before the Female Priest could stop her, Valeria scanned the document and tilted her head.

"Huh?"

"W-What is it, Valeria?"

The Female Priest's heart dropped. Was there some terrifying clause like a non-disclosure agreement written there?

But Valeria pointed to a completely different spot.

"There's a weird condition here."

"A condition?"

"Yeah. 'Maintain a ranking within the top five percent. Maintain good conduct and receive no demerits at the Academy.' That's a standard demand if they're investing in us, but..."

Valeria's finger pointed to the very last line of the document.

"What's this last condition? It's a bit strange."

"The... the last condition?"

The Female Priest hurriedly leaned in to look. At the very bottom, written in small print, was a special clause.

Meanwhile, at that very hour.

Julian, who had fallen asleep in the morning and woke up in the evening, was sitting in his rocking chair, deep in thought.

A scholarship all of a sudden...

He had just woken up when a message arrived from the guild. It was about the scholarship foundation he had discussed with the guild master.

— "My goodness, young master. The first batch of scholarship recipients has already been selected..."

"So quickly?" Julian asked, rubbing his eyes.

The scholarship foundation was an idea that came to him when he was sending donations to his master. He figured that while he was supporting mages, he might as well support other fields too.

I suppose that's how web novel clichés go.

In web novels, it was a classic trope for a reincarnated protagonist to sponsor talented raw diamonds from an early age. However, there was a minor problem: Julian hadn't read the original novel, so he didn't know exactly who to sponsor.

So, he decided to go with a simple approach.

If you don't know who to sponsor, just sponsor everyone and hope someone hits.

Thus, he established a scholarship foundation. If he sponsored dozens of kids every year, at least one of them was bound to be a jackpot. It was a brute-force method only possible because Julian was filthy rich.

And just a few days after the foundation was brought up, the recipients had already been selected.

Let's see...

A stack of profiles piled up on Julian's desk.

Karl. 15 years old. Runner-up in the Academy Middle School Swordsmanship Department.

Ellie. 17 years old. Top of the Academy High School Alchemy Department.

Hmm? These two seem to have more potential than the others.

Valeria. 16 years old. Top of the Academy Middle School Diplomacy and Economics Department.

Ayla. 14 years old. Awakened Holy Power, honor student in the seminary's primary division.

Julian memorized the names of the particularly eye-catching children and nodded after reviewing dozens of documents.

"Excellent. Proceed with this list."

— "A splendid decision, young master."

"Ah, before that, did you add the clause I mentioned?"

— "Pardon? Ah... you mean the special clause requiring a mandatory dinner with a trustee once every six months?"

A hint of mild bewilderment leaked through the communication device from the guild master.

— "Yes, as you requested, we have listed it under Director Shun's name... but may I ask why you included such a troublesome clause?"

"Is it a matter of cost?"

— "No, of course not. Buying a meal for a few dozen students is nothing to the guild. But for you to personally meet and dine ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with dozens of students one by one..."

It was a natural ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠question. Why go through the trouble of gathering and feeding commoner students he didn't even know, when he could just give them money? The guild master couldn't understand why Julian, a noble, would choose to make extra work for himself.

But Julian brushed the question aside.

"It's my money on the line. Is it wrong for me to personally verify who I am investing in?"

— "My apologies. That was a foolish question."

The guild master nodded in understanding. This was Director Schnabel, a man who went out of his way to volunteer in the Limbus Pit just to check the ground beneath his feet. It made perfect sense that such a person would want to meet the students. Besides, the guild master was hardly in a position to question Julian anyway.

— "Please get some rest, young master."

"Goodbye, Guild Master."

After hanging up, Julian fell back into contemplation.

It's just an extension of what I was doing in the Limbus Pit anyway.

Finding talented kids and placing them where they belong. Otherwise known as the "orphan gacha." It sounded a bit wrong, but that was essentially what he had been doing. Through the orphan gacha, he had pulled Erika. Thus, he had absolute faith in the power of the gacha.

Now I'm just doing it on a larger scale.

This time, the targets weren't orphans, but Academy students. On a larger scale, with kids who showed even more promise.

However, the reason Julian had added the dinner clause had absolutely nothing to do with recruiting talent.

I've always wanted to try it once.

The story of a boy who wins a ticket to tour a chocolate factory. Julian had always loved that story. So, he wanted to mimic it. Not because he was the protagonist, or because of some cliché. Just because it sounded fun. If it became too bothersome, he could always stop later.

Maybe I should give them a tour of our pharmaceutical factory later...

If so, would he need to hire dancing dwarfs? Or could he just substitute them with actual dwarves?

Julian rocked his chair back and forth, amused by the thought.

What should the dress code and the restaurant be when I meet them...?

He was already looking forward to meeting the children.