Good Money-Making -2-

Mikhail grew stronger through stimulation. That's how it was written ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the novel.

Mikhail, as a child, encountered a goblin by chance in the mountains and faced mortal danger. In that moment, a burning stimulus ignited in his chest, awakening his talent for swordsmanship. Something like that was probably in the novel. And the favorability quest would've said the same.

I confidently believe I can make anyone grow faster than anyone else—specifically the targets of these quests. I've seen it with my own eyes: giving them the stimulation based on the keywords the quest provides leads to faster growth than swinging a sword alone endlessly, even without the rewards.

Ruin was like that. I stepped on him a little, and he grew like a madman. Ruin from defeat, Mikhail from stimulation. The heroine's quests revolved around bullying. Who could've guessed the protagonists would have such perverse tastes in quests? It was refreshing, but the effects were undeniable.

I diligently carried them out. Who turns down freebies?

In the novel's latter half, the protagonists become a world-saving saint, hero, and grand mage. Prepping them early isn't a bad deal.

I enthusiastically tormented the leads. They probably saw me as some unbeatable ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thug with no answers, but if I said I was doing it for world peace, wouldn't that be touching? Nah?

In the end, people grow when you poke at their specific shortcomings. It breaks through walls and lets them leap to unreachable realms in one go. You see it in martial arts novels too: the protagonist gets utterly wrecked by the villain, thinks, 'Hmm... was I the idiot?' retreats for secluded training, gains enlightenment, and ascends to the Flower Realm or Mystic Realm.

That's the vibe of the favorability quests. Like scratching an itch you can't reach—it feels so good. Filling an unknown deficiency or providing the right stimulus fixes the weak spot and accelerates strength gains. That's the power of my favorability quests.

The alert rang after so long. Felt like the first time in a year.

'Gotta do this.'

It wasn't just about the money when I proposed the job. The part about her dying tugged at my heart. No matter how good the pay or how annoying it might be, I'm not heartless enough to ignore a foreseen death.

Of course, the money was the biggest factor. But I wanted to help. I didn't know her past well, but the short description made it clear she'd had a tough life.

Histania Hanna. She wasn't in the novel. Because she died.

That made my heart sink even more.

Unaware of my turmoil, Hanna stared at me like I was absurd.

"What? What do you mean you'll help?"

She couldn't believe I'd make her beat the second-year top ranker. Was she too overwhelmed with emotion? Her face said no.

"How could I beat Senior Mikhail?"

Hanna let out a hollow laugh, thinking I was joking.

I said it with utter sincerity.

"It's possible."

Mikhail hadn't awakened his aura yet, and it would be a while before he did. He awakens it in the second semester episode where the heroine gets kidnapped, then turns into a monster. Until then, he's just a student who's pretty good with a sword.

We could grind him down with pure swordplay. A bit of luck, and she'd win.

Of course, current Mikhail was still an outstanding swordsman. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Born with exceptional talent and combat sense—but easier than aura-awakened Mikhail, the monster.

That's what I meant: Pre-aura Mikhail was winnable. Think of him as just a student a tad better than average, and you're one step closer.

Mikhail's swordsmanship was hovering at low Lv. 3. The moment Hanna hit Lv. 4, it'd be a divine birth.

Unaware of my thoughts, Hanna looked at me pitifully, incredulous.

"Listen, butler."

"Yes."

She eyed me like I was some invasive species disrupting the ecosystem.

"Do you know what even first-years wouldn't say as a joke?"

"What?"

"Beating Senior Mikhail."

"Ah. Pfft!"

My sly chuckle cracked her expression. She didn't like my laugh.

"Why're you laughing?"

"'Cause it's funny."

"Ha... "

Before her mood soured further, I asked why.

"Back in my day, seniors or not, I'd just shove my head in."

"That's 'cause there's a Mikhail in your year, butler."

"I shoved it at Mikhail too, though?"

Hanna went silent, staring like I was a lunatic.

As conversation stalled, she muttered about how strong Mikhail was. I smiled faintly.

"So?"

"Huh?"

"You think Mikhail's stronger than me?"

I posed the fundamental question. Hanna's brow twitched. It made sense on reflection.

Her gaze shifted to my sword. If I fought Mikhail now... I'd insta-kill him faster than Ruin.

In a grave tone, I tickled her ear.

"Could Mikhail suppress Ruin like I did?"

No answer. She bit her lip, meeting my confident eyes. Even she thought I'd beat current Mikhail.

I added one more.

"When you see Mikhail, do you think, 'I'll never beat this guy'?"

"...Yes."

Before she could elaborate, I took the lead.

"Nah. You wanna be like Mikhail. 'Cause he feels reachable."

It hit her like a brick. She'd never even considered fighting him.

Speechless from the intuitive words, Hanna muttered.

"Me... beat Senior Mikhail?"

She shook her head, scolding herself for overreaching. I glanced around—no watchers. I extended my hand. Red aura rose like heat haze.

"Can't believe it?"

Hanna couldn't look away. That red aura matched her crushed passion.

"Still, better than not trying, right? Just think of it as getting scammed."

"No. It's still impossible. How could I dare beat Senior Mikhail... "

"If you lose, won't you regret it? Giving up without trying is embarrassing for a swordsman."

Hanna pondered deeply. I gently pressed the panic button everyone reacts to.

"Scared?"

I wanted her as my cash cow.

"Awesome, Miss Hanna!"

Hanna blushed, glancing at me. My praise, loud enough for every mountain monster to hear, embarrassed her. Made me wanna tease more.

"Ooooh! Already got one down? Isn't that a record?"

"No...!"

Day 7 today. She'd decided to go along, figuring she was getting duped. But she added a condition.

-Let's do 5-5. How about this instead?

-What?

-If I really beat Senior Mikhail in the school ranking matches after semester starts, I'll give you all my allowance.

-Pardon?

-10,000 gold a month. That's my allowance. But if I lose, you grant my wish.

I thought: Jackpot black sheep. She wouldn't lose out—title of beating Mikhail and boosted confidence.

But she still didn't fully trust me. No standout power or special techniques yet. Her wallet mattered more for now.

Of course, I didn't forget praise. She diligently handed over 50% of earnings.

I bashed an incoming orc's head and yelled.

"Whoa! 10 gold!"

Falling orc head. My wallet fattening up felt great. I'd been scraping by on ceilings lately; now real gold coins. 1 gold per orc head. 10 so far. Hustle hard, and 100 gold's quick.

Hanna shook her head at me slicing orc heads like a maniac.

I smiled lightly at her.

"Oh...! Now you've got 2! Impressive."

"Ah. Yeah... "

"Just snag 3 more like that."

Hanna counted her kills. Exactly 5x fewer than mine. Insecurity fueled her swings.

She's grinding hard. That's how she'll meet the Elite Orc, I thought. A woman dead serious about swordsmanship. I'd mistaken her for hating it from the first favorability window. But she loved it more than anyone.

Like a top student who hates grade talk from disappointment despite hard work.

Her sword sought no luck—just honed through practice. Mentally flawless, but technically lacking.

As orc numbers dwindled, I gathered force at my fingertip. Red aura shimmered at the blade tip. A roar, and the red sword beam shot out. I confirmed the distant orc collapse and shook off my sword.

She stared vacantly.

"How's that possible?"

Hanna, who'd been sipping water, had long since spat it out.

I feigned ease.

"Worked 'cause I did it."

"Crazy."

She saw me as a monster. Hanna plopped down, exhausted. I sat quietly beside her.

"Good work."

"You worked harder."

"I know."

Sunset. Time to head back to the young lady. Softly, within earshot:

"Today, too much shoulder tension."

"Really? Thought I relaxed more."

Hanna nodded slightly, no rebuttal.

"Lower body movement's too big."

"That's 'cause my lower body's bulky... "

I nodded quietly. Definitely pear-shaped.

"Don't get weird ideas."

"I won't."

More advice: Too much waist power. Movements too predictable. Especially.

"You're imitating Mikhail too much."

"Still...? Impressive eye."

I shrugged.

"I've got sharp eyes."

Excessive humility annoys. I hyped myself—deservedly.

Raised it a lot in a week. Proud of the results. Cool breeze tousled my hair. Quitting time winds hit different.

Hanna's eyes were fatigue-ridden, but I wasn't hurting, so fine. Time to go. Grab chocolate on the way—lady's been singing for a week; scared she'll reincarnate into one.

To wrap the day, something more helpful than lame feedback. Gently placed hand on her sprawled head.

"Good job."

"Huh?"

Her eyes widened round.

"You did great today. That's praise."

"Why say it to me."

Her thirst was praise. I didn't know her life—ignored or happy, didn't care or know. But her awkward face at praise was clear. Unfamiliar with it.

She eyed me oddly.

"Why stare? My hand gross you out?"

"No. Feels good."

"Didn't wash after pulling orc teeth earlier... "

"Ah...!"

"Kidding."

Hanna grinned. Commoner jokes amused her.

She popped up like 'Eutcha!' Mischievous kid vibe.

"What's your name, butler?"

"Why."

"Just curious. We haven't properly introduced."

True. I bowed slightly, polite.

"Ricardo."

"Oh... Cool name."

"I know."

Light steps as she pocketed an orc molar. Dodging idling, I checked her favorability above her head.

Like any college kid with freshman woes, her window looked good. Her growth would be swift.