The Black Mage Loves Fake Listings (3)
Whirr—.
During lunch, as Schne Haidel reviewed the morning's lessons, her smartphone buzzed. Lux Tierra High School didn't confiscate students' devices, but as a model student, Schne kept hers on silent indoors. The only contact with vibrations enabled was Papirun. Monster attacks didn't care about class time or exams. At least since Dine enrolled, most assaults had shifted to after school—specifically late afternoon, right when she'd pop into a café for a bite of cake before parting with friends.
What's going on?
Papirun's message had nothing to do with an urgent monster sighting. It was just... a bit odd.
'Asking me to call Nai Hyun.'
Why not just text her directly like normal? Schne's question was answered by the follow-up message.
"Ah."
No helping it in this situation. If Dine caught wind of mascot communications, Nai Hyun's identity as Magi Black would be exposed. Schne shot to her feet.
Her hurried footsteps led to the counseling room's sliding door. A low voice drifted from beyond.
"Remodeling the forest villa sounds promising—I'm looking forward to the finish, sawayo. Will you invite me over sometime?"
"Counseling, huh? Nice word for it. I'll show up because of the contract, but you think I'm gonna spill my guts to you lot like we're buddies?"
Compelled by the realistic threat of the Ochan clan's revival, Dine had agreed to the compromise—but she had no intention of playing into the mascot's schemes.
Raban couldn't help but chuckle at her bristling frustration.
So young, little one...!
Even her petty complaints were sweet nectar already—pure negative emotions at high concentration.
For the first time in ages, Raban felt like admitting Inian had been right.
The Demon Archduke indeed. I'd pegged her as a mere marquis or viscount with that stingy mindset, but what insight!
No need to show his hand, though. Raban dredged up self-help book wisdom from Earth and threw himself into the role of the mascot "striving to make the magical girl's dreams come true."
"Even that kind of talk is still 'talk.' Better than no communication at all."
"You're all insane. We'll just rehash our differences and call it a day."
"Maybe. But that's fine too."
Salamandine frowned at his nonchalant concession. She had her pride as Magi White's rival, after all.
"What, you don't buy into Magi White's dreams either? Realistic, huh. Wasting energy on the impossible is just morale-boosting propaganda for magical girls?"
Something bubbled up from deep in Dine's chest. The Ivory Tower could mock them all it wanted, but mascots sneering at magical girls? Unacceptable.
Raban replied with a grave expression.
"If it came across that way, my regrets. Even unproductive chatter beats silence."
His voice low and deliberate, enunciating each word slowly.
"If we never even try communicating, there's zero chance your relationship with the magical girls changes. But even the worst conversation holds potential for shift. It's grasping at faint hope over absolute zero."
"......"
Vague idealism, like grasping at clouds. Yet the sincerity in every syllable carried weight enough to silence even Salamandine for a moment.
She swallowed, then snorted.
"Dreamy nonsense."
"If we don't cherish dreams and hope, who will?"
Salamandine suddenly understood why mascots were formally "guardian fairies." They were protectors of dreams and hope.
Somehow, the will to argue drained away. She stood.
"I'm out. When should I drop by?"
Success.
Raban muttered inwardly. Pure magical girl sidekick behavior—spreading dreams and hope. But quitting here was amateur hour. A pro con artist nips suspicion in the bud.
Of course, Raban had navigated treacherous demon realms with honesty as his shield (his claim), so he wasn't a pro con artist. But he'd worked under the Demon Archduke, that cheapskate boss who exploited underlings on peanuts and scammed mana deals.
Inian would've raged at the assessment, but she was outside—no mind-reading here.
To forestall any mishaps, Raban added a line.
"Here's my personal contact. One more thing: don't think of weaponizing this 'chat.' It won't fly."
Salamandine was a battle junkie. Tailor-made bait.
"I get wanting to beat magical girls even if it means pity plays, but ours are too tough for mental jabs."
"What?!"
"Kidding. Go ahead and try."
To her ears, it'd sound like: 'Our friends? You'll beg not to hit them, then sneak attack? Tried it—backfires and you're the fool. Curious? Test it yourself.'
"You damn cotton candies... I don't need cheap tricks to win!"
Raban opened the door with a silent smile at her fuming. Perfect. Pride wounded, she'd never breathe a word.
Thanks, Inian. Your spending's sub-marquise, but your business strategy's archduke-level!
Productive day.
...Huh?
Slide. A familiar face stood at the open door: Schne Haidel.
'Mascot minion!'
Inner room soundproofing was too good—no warning. Raban's survival instincts blared.
No hard evidence, but he provisionally classed gift-of-youth-peddling Schne as mascot affiliate.
"Oh, class prez from Nai Hyun's class. What's up?"
Raban kept cool, friendly tone. Then subtle glance at Inian.
Hey, marquise. How'd mascot bait invade on your watch?!
Inian sent thought waves instead.
Schne was flustered too—not by Inian in the room; Papirun had warned her. It was Inian's whisper to Nai Hyun leaking from the hall.
Unlike the soundproof inner office, the lobby divider wasn't great. Schne had overheard Inian's villa invite.
Was it a ploy to breach mascot wards and expose Magi Black? To divert, she'd barged in.
"Schne, what's 'hold up' supposed to mean?"
Minds in chaos—Dine's already wrecked by Raban's bait (past perfect, really)—only Nai Hyun stayed serene.
She tilted her head at her sudden bestie visitor.
"...Black Forest's greenbelt now. Pre-existing villas are fine, but rebuilding's a hassle."
"Oh, really?"
That angle. Nai Hyun nodded absently. Yeah, post-Na Ju Pharma, Black Forest got restrictions.
Perks of prez—knows her stuff.
"So, prez. What brings you?"
"Ran into Secretary Teacher. He was looking for you."
Secretary Teacher: Papirun code. Nai Hyun nodded, eyed Raban.
"Old man. Lunch ain't over yet—cool if I step out?"
Raban wanted to weep blood. Mascot minion foiling him again!
"Sure. Lunch's winding down—head to class. If friends want you specifically, I'll pass it on."
Nai Hyun smiled wryly. Friends specifying her...
'Rare as hen's teeth.'
Stretching, she rose and waved at Inian, who sipped tea and waved back.
Girls gone, Dine glared at Raban and exited, signaling Inian: after school, definite.
Inian waved. Confirmed clear, she whipped around, glaring at Raban.
"Whew, Dine ended nice and smooth—then what? ...Why the death stare?"
Perimeter check. Inian scanned with demon eyes, confirmed no guardian fairy gazes, then growled in fury.
"You dared try scamming me with fake listings, sawayo?!"
"Huh?"
"Should've known better than to trust you scum, sawayo!"
"Wait! Talk it out, talk!"
Raban felt unjustly wronged. Yeah, fake listing—but to Salamandine, not Inian.
That pettiness! Suits a marquise, not archduke!