You Can Measure Mana?
Ailene Year, April 7th, Friday.
One more week had passed since the comprehensive health checkups for all Beauty Tower staff.
"Alright, everyone! This is the new mana meter that I had Kellogg make for us."
"Mana... meter?"
"You can measure mana?"
"Is that even possible?"
I'd gathered the witches and the Jo family in the conference room on the first floor of the Beauty Tower and handed out coin-sized mana meters, and they all looked baffled.
"We did health checkups on everyone last week, right? And we figured out that mana levels in the body match blood sugar levels. Inside this coin-shaped device, there's a tiny needle..."
I had no mana myself, so I didn't know the exact principles of how it worked. But the early symptoms of mana depletion and the severe ones were a 100% match for diabetes patients.
Diabetes was a disease where sugar spilled into the urine because of insufficient insulin, the hormone that regulated carbohydrate metabolism.
My guess was that mana usage was closely tied to insulin.
'First Brother Jo's condition improved when I injected him with insulin in the belly.'
Essentially, insulin shots were equivalent to mana potions. But this world's mana potions were far faster-acting and easier than stabbing yourself in the gut.
'Not just that. You just drink them.'
Plus, long-term users of mana potions showed no side effects, so there was no need to replace them with insulin shots.
"It's simple to use. Open the boxes I gave you, and you'll see a small white cartridge and two gray ones. Flip the gray one over onto the white and connect them..."
I was explaining how to use it based on the Freestyle Libre, a continuous glucose monitor made in America. Instead of pricking your finger every time, you stuck the coin-sized sensor on your arm, and it linked to a phone app for two weeks.
"Okay, everyone check the reading on your mana meters now. All under 100, right?"
""Yes.""
"Now, everyone cast a simple spell. We'll pass this cup around and check the linked crystal orb readings one by one."
Unlike the Freestyle Libre, which just needed an app link, Kellogg's mana meters required him to individually sync each one to a crystal orb.
"Mine went from 88 to 90."
"88 to 89 for me."
"Hmm... mine jumped from 99 to 103. What the hell is this?"
George had high baseline blood sugar and terrible mana efficiency.
"It's measuring mana usage, exactly as it says. Keep casting until it hits over 126. I've got mana potions ready, so don't worry."
At my words, the witches and Jo family kept casting spells.
Good thing we'd drawn the blinds on the conference room's glass walls. If outsiders saw seven grown adults taking turns levitating a cup in midair, they'd think we were nuts.
"Director, mine hit 126."
As expected, low-efficiency George was the first dropout.
"How do you feel? Any changes?"
"Nothing much. A bit of fatigue, maybe?"
"Cast one more."
"Uh...? M-mana depletion! My stomach's churning, and I'm wiped!"
Once the sugar—no, mana—level broke 130, symptoms hit immediately.
"Good work. Take a sip of mana potion. Actually, hold off. Let's confirm recovery too. Anyway, this level is fine."
"No, I don't feel fine..."
"You're fine. Josephine, keep casting. More, more, more!"
And from the experiment results, I knew instinctively: this was a revolutionary money-maker.
* * *
One week later.
The weather was still chilly, but a stall had been set up in front of the Beauty Tower for the first time in a while.
Today was the launch of mass-produced mana meters from the past week.
"How long are you gonna keep chugging expensive mana potions out of fear? The solution's here! Check how much mana you've got left! Mana meters for just 10 gold!"
"Measure mana? Come on, does that even make sense?"
"Why not? This is the Beauty Tower. They make all kinds of weird stuff."
"Still, 10 gold... That's another potion. Prices are up again anyway, tsk. How long does it last?"
"Two weeks, but—"
"Two weeks? That's it? Forget it. Who'd pay that?"
Few bought right away—the high price and two-week limit were turn-offs.
But the seller was Cache. The sales genius that would stun America, shock China, and bring Japan to its knees.
"Oh my! Customer! The mana meter comes with a crystal orb. First bundle's 10 gold, and the orb's yours forever. Replacements are just 3 gold for the coin part."
"Buy more? How often do you replace it?"
"Stick it on once, lasts two weeks. Think about it—you're an adventurer who uses magic, right?"
The man nodded, and Cache flashed a bright smile.
"You go through 4-5 low-grade mana potions a week, yeah? With this, overusage shows up instantly on the orb as a number. Or set it for sound or vibration alerts."
"Hmm... convenient, but the price..."
"Come on! Mana recovery takes a day normally, half for fast recoverers. Resting carefully saves way more than half your potions!"
A crowd gathered, full of curiosity but no buyers. Cache wasn't backing down.
"Hey! You're all curious but worried about cost? First five in line! Buy any low-grade potion—stamina or mana—and get a two-week free trial!"
"Free? Can't pass that! Gimme one!"
"Miss, I just bought two low-grade mana potions—free trial?"
"Of course! Everyone who buys today qualifies! Head to the second floor, deposit at Cache Capital, and get your trial mana meter and orb!"
Seeing Cache send five magic users off with her juicy charm—and George in tow—I knew I'd hired right.
Bwooooooo!
Bwooo—
"Kyaaah! Sand! Sand in my eyes!"
"Ugh! What wind?!"
"What's that?!"
I'd stepped out to check the mana meters' reception when a trumpet-like roar hit, followed by a massive sandstorm and a huge shadow from the sky.
'What the...?'
I'd seen flying turtles and tigers, so I thought I was jaded to sky beasts.
Or so I thought—until a house-sized elephant flapped ears big enough to cover its body.
"Cache... that's a sky elephant, right?"
"Yup, Director. You know your stuff."
Figured. Flying critters all had names like that.
"East Continent nobles use them mostly, and not casually even there. Wonder which family... Ack, spit! Dust!"
As the Beauty Tower's fame grew, more nobles came from afar.
Unlike West Continent folk in sky turtle carriages, East Continent types rode oversized sky beasts sometimes.
Whatever—they flew way too much, annoyingly.
"Cache, Walter. Let's move the stuff inside first. Too dusty."
"Yup, Director!"
"Yes!"
No doctor helicopter, but the rooftop had a helipad. I'd planned to direct sky carriages there.
'Good call not to. Max takeoff weight's around 3,100 kg. That thing...'
Two elephants flapping huge ears, towing three carriages mid-air, landed.
Each had to weigh over 10 tons easy.
Bwooo woo woo!
Bwooo— Bwooo— Bwoooo—!
"Ugh! All moved?"
"Yes, Director!"
"Done!"
When the sky elephants landed on the road away from the tower, the ground didn't just shake—it heaved.
Dust cleared, revealing men in a line, swords at their waists, who'd exited the carriages.
"East Continent again?"
"Looks like. Wait and see who's coming."
The lined-up men and the lone approaching one wore clothes like Esmael ducal knights, but different colors and style.
But the man's features and garb screamed East Continent.
"Greetings, Baron Gold. I'm Abdul, knight of the Ecna Ducal House. Forgive the unannounced visit."
"It's fine."
It wasn't, damn nobles always like this. If you know it's rude, compensate!
But a mere baron like me couldn't complain. They were one of East Continent's five pillars: Ecna Ducal House.
"Young Duke Harish Ecna requests treatment. However, he dislikes showing himself... Could you clear the area?"
"Sorry, but I can't chase out guests or patients. It's disrespectful to Beauty Tower visitors."
"Then, might we request a private parlor for the Young Duke and Baron? He'll compensate generously. This is sincerity for our rudeness."
A heavy pouch full of gold.
I nodded to Cache and Walter; quick-witted Cache dragged Walter inside.
"Please wait. We'll clear the first floor—no one will see the Young Duke."
Exceptions could always be made with mutual cooperation.
And East Continent folk knew that well.