Chapter 10

The secretary had been defeated. Meeting Arian's unfocused eyes, Franz felt a shiver run down his spine in an instant. It was because the saintess's expression ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from just yesterday overlapped with hers above.

How hard had he worked to save the world from the saintess? He'd argued with her, slapped her cheek hard enough to knock out a tooth, and even given her counseling in the end. The first two felt a bit off somehow, but he'd decided to let it slide. In the end, he'd prevented the world's destruction, so all was good—what else mattered?

Anyway, he'd twisted his body inside out to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠save the world, only to face the exact same expression the very next morning. It was enough to leave him speechless.

Franz raised his hand and stared at it blankly. Maybe this would work on Arian too? But he couldn't slap her with a purifying smack just yet—she wasn't confirmed as a villainess. As the saying goes, she wasn't even on the Status Window's list. After witnessing the saintess's actions firsthand yesterday, his trust in the window was 200 percent—no, even higher.

Thus, Franz's hand slowly lowered again.

"Why? What's got you like this?"

"Why on earth are you trying to hire another secretary…?"

"I'm hiring one so you won't be so worn out. If we split the work among more people, the load lightens up, right?"

"No. I'm fine. If it's like that, I'll handle it all myself."

Arian shook her head firmly. Franz couldn't understand her at all. Having less work should be something to welcome with open arms—there was no reason to refuse. Just yesterday, she'd stayed late because of the backlog. With more hands, she could clock out on time every day like she loved, so what was holding her back?

In that moment, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a word flashed through Franz's mind: salary.

Is she worried her pay will get cut if we add more people? If so, her refusal made perfect sense. Humans worked for all sorts of reasons, but money took the biggest slice by far.

"Your salary stays the same. No, you've been working hard lately—I'll even raise it. How's that? Good now?"

"Ha—do you think I'm doing this over some measly salary?"

Franz's mind went blank. If it wasn't about money, there was no reason to refuse. And "measly salary"? A black-haired Korean from the 21st century had shed tears striving for just an extra million won a year, yet here it was dismissed like pocket change. All his efforts felt invalidated.

In truth, Franz had overlooked one key fact: Arian was the daughter of a duke. Her family had mountains of gold and jewels—pocket change like a salary was beneath notice. Of course, she'd told him she was from a duke's house before. He just hadn't remembered.

From Arian's side, it was infuriating. Is this guy deliberately messing with me?

But Franz was just as frustrated. He didn't know the reason, but she was dead set against another secretary. Yet without one, having her shoulder everything alone was impossible.

So Franz thought: This won't do. We need a change. Their conversation was running parallel lines, never converging. Negotiation was about sharing desires and compromising, right? So he had to hear what she wanted.

"So what do you want?"

"I don't want you hiring any other secretary besides me."

"As long as it's not a secretary, anything else is fine? Like another clerk or something?"

"That… might be okay…"

Arian trailed off without realizing it. Saying "okay" outright would reveal her attachment to the secretary position. Being the Magic Tower master's secretary meant being the only one working side-by-side with him. Clinging to that was basically admitting she wanted to stay close—practically a confession.

And that was mortifying. In this world where Franz and Arian lived, women never confessed first. If a woman liked a man, she'd flirt subtly, wait for him to confess, and that was the norm.

Unfortunately, it wouldn't work on Franz. He had 21st-century modern dating values. A little tail-wag? He'd think, What's she up to? It had to be a full tail-slap to the face for him to catch on.

So Franz was simply satisfied with her answer. No secretary? Fine, hire a clerk then.

And so, Arian suffered her first mysterious defeat.

In truth, Franz hadn't noticed, but from his Magic Tower apprentice days, plenty of women had wagged their tails at him. From some magic association chair to renowned noble daughters. Though from a baron's house, his magical talent transcended that, and his looks shone anywhere. It was natural.

But those women soon vanished from his side. Suspiciously, all except one.

Thud.

Arian set down a stack of documents on the desk, curling one corner of her mouth smugly.

"Then, Tower Master, get to work today too with those turtle-slow hands of yours."

Whether in front or behind, Arian was incredibly proactive. The problem was Franz remaining oblivious.

"Ah…"

Franz stared at the pile before him, his vision darkening. He needed to gather clerks ASAP.

A few days later, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Franz posted the clerk recruitment notice.

It was absurdly generous. The salary was one thing, but ignoring background entirely? Nobles always wanted to build their factions, yet this seemed utterly devoid of such ambition.

Still, commoners hesitated to believe it. They'll just pick nobles anyway. How many times had that happened? The lord next door had promised equal knight recruitment—turned out to be all nobles.

So they'd assume this was just reputation-boosting. Yet commoners still sent applications one by one. One gold coin a month? Frugal living, and it lasted five years—life-changing. No loss even if rejected.

Time passed, leading to now. Franz pressed his forehead seeing the crowd packed in front of the tower. Easily over a hundred. He hadn't expected this despite the perks.

"That's why I said no. You brought this on yourself, Tower Master—so take responsibility."

Arian scanned faces rapidly, weeding out pretty women, those eyeing the Tower Master, just women in general. They'd surely start tail-wagging later, so better nip the seeds of trouble early.

Soon, the Tower Master-led interviews began. Nothing fancy: read/write tests, math, simple questions.

Arian shot a sharp glare. "What do you think of the Tower Master?"

"Uh, w-well, he's respectable… and handsome, cool…"

"…Rejected."

Arian's voice was ice-cold. Hearing the Tower Master praised felt good, but foxes couldn't enter the henhouse. Franz was dumbfounded. Who died and made you judge?

"It's fine—just sit there."

At Franz's words, a shabbily dressed woman rose then sat back down.

After a long session, three remained: two commoner women, one male mage. Commoners flipping out that two plebs made it—proving the ad's equality.

Franz had posted without a second thought, unwittingly boosting his rep.

A few more days passed. The new clerks were settling in when Arian entered the Tower Master's office with a single sheet.

"Tower Master, you've been specifically designated."

Specific designation…? The Tower had that system, but commissions were pricey—no one used it.

Franz took the paper curiously, reading slowly.

Even skimming the top chilled him. He knew only one elf.

And sure enough.

Franz's hand rose slowly to his forehead.