Chapter 29. Better to Show You Directly
"Making potions yourself... Are you some runaway mage from a magic tower?"
"Something like that."
"...Wh-what?!"
The old woman's lips curled into a sly smile, and her form began to change. Her hunched back straightened, and the deep wrinkles etching her face smoothed away. The only things that remained the same were her blood-red hair, deathly pale skin, the way her shabby clothes now hung loose on her suddenly taller frame.
"Wi... witch? It's a witch!"
"She really is a witch!"
"Whoa! Betrayed!"
"Give me my money back!"
'A witch?'
The Jo family erupted in shouts at the sight of the woman who had abruptly transformed from a crone into a woman in her twenties.
"Walter."
Shing—
Walter's sword cleared its sheath in a flash, and the Jo family fell silent once more. He should probably ask Walter to handle drawing his sword on his own next time they got rowdy. Explaining every time was getting annoying.
"A witch... She really was a witch?"
"That's what they call us in the world outside. Please, call me Rebecca."
"... ."
The woman who introduced herself as Rebecca had changed not just her appearance but her speech as well.
'No wonder something felt off.'
Yesterday, while treating her to prove the heresy inquisitor's scam—corns, warts, fibroadenoma—there hadn't been anything unusual about the procedures themselves. But this witch who called herself Rebecca... When he'd removed the mole from her thigh, her skin had felt as elastic as a twenty-year-old's, despite her elderly appearance.
'Come to think of it, the wrinkles were only on her face. All magic, huh.'
He'd helped her because she claimed the witch trials were a scam. Who would've thought she was actually a witch.
"Hehe, no need to be so scared just because I'm a witch. We're just mages who aren't affiliated with any magic tower. That's all."
"Shut your mouth! Steal the magic towers' secrets and you get branded a witch!"
George couldn't hold back and bellowed at her. But Rebecca just arched her brows like crescent moons, smirking mockingly.
"That's ridiculous. 'Magic tower secrets'? If you can only learn them from someone else telling you, doesn't that mean you're the deficient one? I mean, come on—what would priests of the Black Moon Church know anyway, when all they can do is healing magic? Oh, wait, you're not priests anymore. Barbers now?"
"You bitch!"
"George the barber, quiet."
"... ."
After silencing George, who was on the verge of mania again, Minho turned back to Rebecca.
"Please continue. I need to hear the difference between witches or warlocks and regular mages first."
Rebecca shook her cascading red hair, flashing a faint smile.
"Among humans, there are officially only two types who use magic: mages and priests. But there are also those like me, called witches or warlocks."
"What's the difference?"
"Just a fancy name. Not much real difference. Priests claim to use divine power, but it's basically the same as a mage's mana manipulation. Witches and warlocks are a bit different, though."
"Different how?"
When Minho echoed her words, Rebecca grinned and continued.
"Yes. Most witches and warlocks come from magic towers."
"What... So you're from a magic tower, Rebecca?"
"Exactly. From a magic tower in another region. I was probably still the youngest 3rd Circle mage there. If they haven't erased the records, that is."
A hint of bitterness colored Rebecca's words. But first, he needed to verify if she was telling the truth.
"Hmm... Now that I think about it, something doesn't add up."
"What part? I'm ready to answer any questions you have."
"As you said yourself, potion-making requires a 4th Circle mage or higher. Even if you're from a magic tower, claiming to be a 3rd Circle mage while saying you make potions yourself seems contradictory."
Rebecca covered her mouth and laughed at his serious question.
"You could ask our former Black Moon folks over there for more details, but..."
"...?"
"Since we're both busy, I'll explain. Becoming a 4th Circle mage in a magic tower is reserved for a tiny elite. You need mastery of spell formulas and immense mana capacity, but who you network with matters just as much."
Connections and nepotism, huh? Even this world runs on relationships.
"So... you don't actually need to be 4th Circle to make potions?"
"Not quite. Even if you understand the theory, 3rd Circle mana isn't enough."
"...Explain it simply."
"Hehe, sorry. It's been so long since I talked to actual people."
Rebecca tugged at the hem of her robe and let out a sinister chuckle.
"Simply put: you can grasp potion-making principles without being a 4th Circle mage. But actual production requires 4th Circle level. And I am a 4th Circle witch with four mana circles."
That Jeden guy from the 30th floor of the magic tower last time had been surprisingly young too. But this woman, who looked barely past twenty, was already 4th Circle?
"Mages in towers must learn knowledge for higher mana circles from superiors. Apprenticeship style."
"So you did it on your own?"
Rebecca smiled sweetly at his question.
"Yes. Not just me—most witches and warlocks are exceptional geniuses. We reach 4th Circle without help, but rough stones get rejected. Like me."
Rejected? Was surpassing without senior guidance a problem?
"A swan among ducks only breeds envy and jealousy. I was treated like an impurity, branded a witch, and expelled."
Her words hit home, as if she'd read his mind. He'd been an orphan genius, graduating middle, high school, and university early thanks to his brilliant mind.
'I got plenty of envy and jealousy too. And my good looks didn't help.'
With that common ground, it all made sense.
"I've had similar experiences, so I get it."
"Oh? We have that in common."
"So now, without the witch's mark, you're no longer hunted or anything?"
"Right. Unaffiliated mages are heretics, but if the Tower of Beauty is a magic tower, my status should be secure. But..."
Rebecca eyed him with a strange glint, smiling bewitchingly.
"What I like most is that you're free of prejudice, Director."
He'd registered the Tower of Beauty as a magic tower from the start at the territory office. He'd explained it was just a hospital a dozen times, but in this world, magic tower equaled hospital.
"Good. Our tower may not have 100 floors like the others, but join us as our tower's witch—or mage."
"Hehe, looking forward to working with you."
Of course, not everyone approved.
"Wait a second, Director!"
"What, Josephine?"
"We can use magic too! So we're mages, not barbers—"
"How many circles?"
"George and I are 3rd Circle, Joy and Jonathan are 2nd!"
"Hey, Jo folks. Quit yapping and cut hair."
"... ."
Can't even make potions? Everyone up to 3rd Circle is a barber. But as they say, crisis breeds opportunity. Thanks to the undertakers, he had a mage now. Time to expand properly.
"Barbers, prep for customers—they'll be back. Cache, Walter, set up the stall again and advertise. Say the Tower of Beauty now sells potions too."
"Yes, Director!"
"Right away."
And now, for their valuable new hire. Time to negotiate salary with the tower's first mage.
"Rebecca, let's talk separately."
"Hehe, sure."
"Miner! What about me? What do I do?"
"Hmm... Res, help Cache and Walter. It's important."
"Got it!"
* * *
Monday, July 25th—the next day, morning. The start of the week, and here he was at the damn territory office. Today was the big first tax payment day.
"Payment confirmed, new employee registration fees paid in full. Receipt?"
As always, Rachel the office worker's curt tone made his parting words sour.
"Skip the receipt. Do freelancers—or self-employed—count as employees too?"
"Follow the rules. No petty tricks."
Petty? Aren't territory office workers civil servants? Can they be that vicious with words?
"What do you mean?"
"Don't try registering them as irregulars. Make them full-time. I don't know how you did it on the East Continent, but here on the West, all employees must be full-time."
Rachel, the territory office worker who twisted every conversation.
"No, we're getting supplies from self-employed suppliers for our sales! It's irregular volume and amount. That's why I asked!"
"We call that a loophole here. No! Ex! Cep! Tions! Register full-time, and pay bonuses as per their contracts."
"...Fine, I'm out."
"We do spot checks. Don't try anything."
"I said I'm going!"
He knew he'd get an earful, but he'd asked about freelancers because he might hire three more today. A midsummer night's dream, obviously.
'Damn it, full-time it is.'
"Miner! Miner came!"
"Director, they're here. In the back of the 1st floor cafe."
"Early birds? Thanks, Cache."
"Miner! No hello for me?!"
"Res, you're doing great with Cache. Eat your snacks."
"Okay! Bye!"
After witch Rebecca and the Jo family joined, he'd wondered if Res was redundant. But deep interviews revealed mages, priests, and hatchlings all had unique roles despite using magic.
'These interviewees better be useful too.'
Passing the automatic doors into the 1st floor cafe, he spotted Rebecca in the corner, sipping tea across from three hooded figures.
"Hello, I'm Miner, director of the Tower of Beauty."
"You're here? Introduce yourselves—these are the gathering experts I mentioned."
"I'm Tommy. These are my sisters Celly and Ellie."
"Twin sister Celly."
"Younger sister Ellie."
All three greeted him hoods up, but their youthful voices gave them away.
"Straight to it. We came thanks to Rebecca, but our main client is a magic tower. If they find out we're dealing with the Tower of Beauty too, we lose our biggest customer."
Tommy's voice and looks were young, but his words were serious. Felt like he was interviewing.
"We won't let that happen. We're scaling up supply needs, so if your magic tower deal falls through, we'll buy everything."
"...As you know, Miner, this is more risk than opportunity for us. I heard this job came up because the magic tower sabotaged potion materials suddenly."
Tommy's micro-expressions screamed distrust toward the Tower of Beauty.
"They might keep interfering. We need you to understand we'll bear that risk."
Kid knows how to negotiate. Micro-expressions showed Tommy fishing for more.
"What extra compensation do you want, Tommy?"
Predictable. Their expressions shifted eagerly at his question.
Higher pay? Bonus? Name it—he'd match as much as possible!
"Not for me, but please help my mother."
"...Your mother?"
"Better to show you directly."
Swish—
'...Huh?'
Tommy pulled back his hood, revealing pointed ears unlike a human's.