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  • Star Maker Chapter 65

    The day after the Idol War broadcast—Thursday—Seon-ho didn’t go to the office.

    That didn’t mean he went out to the field to manage Personal Color’s schedule, either.

    He planned to stay home all day.

    Not because he was on vacation.

    No road manager, especially not when a group like Personal Color was just starting to rise in popularity, could afford a weekday off.

    The reason Seon-ho didn’t show up at the company was because of a order from Manager Kwon Hosan.

    Kwon Hosan acknowledged that Personal Color’s schedule was demanding, but he considered the songs even more important.

    So he split today’s duties with Jung Jiwoon and instructed Seon-ho to stay home and work on the music with Prefor.

    It was the right call on Kwon Hosan’s part.

    Seon-ho had been scraping together what little free time he had—practically none—to write music.

    Naturally, there were plenty of rough edges.

    As much as he enjoyed composing, there was no way to write a solid song with a clear head after sleeping less than ten hours over two days.

    Filming for High School in Melody was set to begin next Monday, which meant the coming days would only get busier, not quieter.

    That’s why today mattered.

    For the third mission song of Idol War.

    —

    Around 11 a.m., after finishing a meal that served as both breakfast and lunch, Seon-ho sat down at his computer feeling refreshed.

    A good night’s sleep had cleared his mind.

    He started by reviewing the songs he’d been working on in bits and pieces.

    Listening in the daylight to something he’d composed while gazing at the starlight revealed even more layers.

    “Why did I write this part here?”

    A lot of details didn’t sit right with him.

    He made quick edits to what he could, and marked the time-consuming parts for later.

    He wanted to fix everything right away, but there just wasn’t enough time.

    The most urgent task was Jia’s solo song.

    The song requested by Director Baek, and Hye-mi’s piece that he’d recently started, could wait.

    But Jia’s solo, set to be part of the High School in Melody OST, had to be finished no later than next Friday.

    And he still needed to write the song for the Idol War unit mission, too.

    There was a mountain of work to do.

    And that made him happy.

    Because it meant his music was in demand by more and more people.

    Seon-ho dove into serious composing.

    He started with Jia’s solo, “Even Though I Know It Won’t Work.”

    —

    Even Though I Know It Won’t Work

    A song inspired by a scene from a novel Jia had enjoyed reading.

    —

    Most people had probably acted against better judgment at least once, even when they knew it was hopeless.

    There are things you just can’t give up on, even when you know they’ll never happen—like love or dreams.

    Originally, Seon-ho had built Even Though I Know It Won’t Work around the theme of love.

    He’d intended to depict the pain of an unrequited love that you just can’t give up on.

    But today, it felt like dreams fit better than love.

    It aligned more closely with the themes of High School in Melody, and also better matched the odd novel titled The Integral Calculus Mage, which had inspired the song.

    Seon-ho’s reason for wanting to write a solo for Jia was to test her limits.

    He had a hunch that the remarkable immersion she had shown so far still hadn’t touched her true ceiling.

    And to find that ceiling, she would need to fully immerse herself.

    The scene that moved Jia in The Integral Calculus Mage involved two people who wanted to be together but were constantly separated by their circumstances.

    They dreamed of being together, even knowing it could never be.

    That was different from unrequited love.

    That little gap might keep Jia from giving the song her all.

    A dream everyone says is impossible—that’s better.

    Having made up his mind, Seon-ho placed his hands on the master keyboard.

    He, too, had dreams he knew would never come true.

    Like meeting his father again—the man who raised him alone while working as a truck driver and passed away when Seon-ho was six.

    Or producing a song for that girl, Yu Seon-ah, while she sang it.

    Impossible dreams, yet desperately cherished ones.

    Soon, Seon-ho’s hands began moving rapidly, turning emotions into sound.

    He had learned this method from a pianist he met about ten years ago.

    Or rather, he hadn’t been taught—he’d simply watched and imitated.

    —

    “It’s not random. I’m just playing what I’m feeling right now.”

    “How do you play feelings?”

    “Hmm, that’s a tough question. Listen—this one’s sadness.”

    —

    Expressing emotions freely through sound.

    What’s that man doing now, I wonder?

    The thought came by, but vanished almost immediately.

    Instead, Seon-ho sank deeply into the sounds he was creating.

    This was a first for him.

    Up until now, the songs he had written weren’t really connected to his emotional state.

    Autumn Leaf and Girl in the City were arrangements, so that made sense, and Vivid had been composed to draw out Personal Color’s true feelings.

    But Even Though I Know It Won’t Work was different.

    For the first time, the emotions he had for the artist matched his own personal emotions.

    A song he had begun to push Jia to her limits was now knocking on the door of his own.

    Time passed.

    Without him even noticing.

    Finally, when the bass line and melody were complete, and he had matched every part with its ideal sound, the spell broke.

    His back hurt like hell.

    “Ugh…”

    He glanced at the clock, eyes dry and aching with disbelief.

    He had sat down a little after 11 a.m.

    It was now 4:15 p.m.

    He’d been composing for five straight hours without a break.

    Realizing that, hunger crashed over him, and his back and shoulders throbbed with pain.

    Did I really just spend five hours composing nonstop?

    He had never had this kind of experience before.

    Even stranger was that he couldn’t clearly recall what he had made.

    This was what composers called “riding the horse”—entering an unconscious flow state.

    Hands trembling slightly, Seon-ho pressed the spacebar to play everything back.

    And sat there, dazed, as the song unfolded.

    It was good.

    It was good—too good.

    Usually, when composing a song, there were moments of hesitation.

    When choosing between instrument A and instrument B, even after making a decision, there would still be lingering thoughts about the other option.

    Even after writing a smooth melody line, he would wonder—what if a rougher line worked better?

    But this song was different.

    With this song, all other possibilities had already been ruled out.

    He was confident that this, just as it was, was the best version.

    There was still the delicate process of mixing left to do, but this song was complete.

    At the moment when joy brimmed to the surface, Seon-ho thought of someone’s face.

    Eyes that sparkled like a puppy’s.

    Slightly downward-slanting eyebrows.

    A small mouth that called him “oppa”—Jia’s face.

    ‘Is this really a song made for Jia? Is it a song she could be happy singing?’

    The answer that came after much thought was—‘No.’

    This wasn’t a song for Jia, but for an ideal vocalist that existed only in his mind.

    This song reflected the greed of a composer.

    “Hoo…”

    Seon-ho took a deep breath.

    It was a song he simply couldn’t bring himself to change.

    No—even if he could, he didn’t want to.

    He didn’t want to alter even a single note. He didn’t want to damage the feeling the song currently held.

    But he had to change it.

    Because he didn’t write songs for wealth or success.

    With the feeling of slicing off his own flesh, Seon-ho began to revise the song.

    At first, it felt like he was ruining a perfectly completed puzzle.

    But as he went through the revision process, he realized something.

    There was no such thing as a finished piece of music composed by the composer alone.

    A song is only truly completed when it’s listened by the public.

    ‘Ah… The song I initially made—its only listener was me.’

    For a moment, Seon-ho realized he had nearly fallen into the same pit that countless geniuses had fallen into before him.

    That pit of lamenting that the world didn’t understand them—until they disappeared.

    Suddenly, he felt grateful to Jia.

    There might not be any obvious, dramatic changes, but he could feel that he had grown as a person.

    Of course, the original version of the song would have been well received if released to the world.

    Even if he had written it with only himself in mind, there were surely plenty of people who shared his taste.

    Music critics and enthusiasts who judged based on technical merit would have praised it.

    But it wasn’t a song that could help Jia break through her limits.

    And now, he was certain—the revised version was better.

    And so, two versions of “Even Though I Know It Won’t Work” were saved on Seon-ho’s workstation.

    Now, it was time to make the song that Idol War Unit A would sing.

    A song for the unit consisting of Baek Songyi, Riha, Teiji, and Woochan was already in partial development.

    Just then, Seon-ho’s phone rang.

    “Yes, Team Leader Choi.”

    The caller was Team Leader Choi Giseok.

    —Seon-ho, can you come to the office now?

    “Yes, I can.”

    —Then brace yourself and get here fast.

    “Brace myself?”

    —Yeah. PD Joo Min-hwan’s throwing a fit. Over the song selection.

    Seon-ho calmly left his apartment.

    Just because the other party was agitated didn’t mean he had to rush too.

    If anything, in situations like this, keeping calm was the only way not to get swept up by someone who had lost their judgment.

    It was obvious why PD Joo Min-hwan was angry.

    He had gone through all the trouble of getting permission from Teacher Jung Heesun for a remake, only for that to be scrapped.

    ‘The remake itself is a bit of a shame. I wish I could’ve used it…’

    Thinking that, Seon-ho stopped near his apartment and bought a sandwich.

    He didn’t plan to dawdle excessively, but he was starving.

    A little while later, Seon-ho arrived at the 7th-floor conference room.

    Inside, three men were waiting for him.

    Team Leader Choi Ki-seok from PR.

    PD Joo Min-hwan from the A&R team.

    And Director Shin Ho-yoon from Management Division 1, commonly known as the “Artist HQ.”

    Team Leader Choi and PD Joo were expected, but Director Shin Ho-yoon was a surprise.

    “Hello. I’m Han Seon-ho from Artist Team B.”

    Seon-ho greeted them politely.

    Shin Ho-yoon returned the greeting with a curious expression.

    “So you’re the famous rookie manager, huh? I was the one who signed off on your intern application.”

    Director Shin spoke with a relaxed and gentle demeanor.

    PD Joo Min-hwan looked full of complaints, though he clearly didn’t dare raise his voice in front of the director.

    “Alright. You guys talk it out. I’m just here to watch.”

    As soon as Director Shin finished speaking, PD Joo Min-hwan jumped in.

    “Han Seon-ho, do you have something against me?”

    “I’m not sure what you mean.”

    “You know how much damn… effort I put into getting permission from Teacher Jung Heesun for that remake, and you scrapped it?”

    “PD-nim, there seems to be a misunderstanding. I wasn’t the one who rejected the song.”

    It was true that Director Kwon Hosan had told the company that Personal Color rejected the song.

    He wasn’t using Personal Color as a scapegoat. Only the artist had the right to reject a song—so it was natural.

    “If it wasn’t you, then why was a song from a rookie that hasn’t even debuted yet—Prefer—chosen?”

    “That hasn’t been finalized yet. If the song is completed by tomorrow or the day after, Personal Color will decide whether to select it.”

    PD Joo seemed even more irritated by Seon-ho’s calm demeanor.

    Had Director Shin not been present, the conversation would’ve begun and ended with shouting, without a doubt.

    “Fine. Fine! Prefer makes good songs—I’ll admit that. Autumn Leaf and Girl in the City were solid tracks. I give them credit.”

    Joo Min-hwan sneered, then asked,

    “But this song? You’re tossing out a Jung Heesun piece for this? Just because it’s a solo for An Jia?”

    “Hmm. That part’s odd to me too.”

    Director Shin, arms crossed, joined the conversation.

    “You’re not misunderstanding something here, are you? Just because Jia is popular, you think any half-decent song will do? You think that’s how this industry works?”

    As a singer, ‘An Jia’ didn’t carry much weight.

    PD Joo Min-hwan was right.

    Some people might think that because Jia was popular, any song she sang would get lots of votes—but that was far from the truth.

    What happens when a wildly popular actor suddenly releases an album?

    Do they shoot to the top of the charts and get universal praise?

    Absolutely not.

    The public’s preference in music was honest. Especially those who actively voted in Idol War—they would be even more discerning.

    After a long rant, PD Joo said,

    “You think this business runs on good music alone? Promotional value. Marketing appeal. These things are crucial too. Does your Prefer song have any hook that can beat the appeal of a Jung Heesun track?”

    “Mm… You make a good point.”

    Seon-ho responded to PD Joo, who wore a sour expression.

    “That’s exactly why Unit B was assigned a Jia solo.”

    “…What?”

    “I said, we chose Jia’s solo song for marketing purposes.”

    “What are you talking about?”

    At that moment, the conference room door opened.

    “I was listening outside, and I’m curious too.”

    A man walked into the room and looked at Seon-ho.

    “You said you picked Jia’s solo song for marketing purposes?”

    “Yes, CEO.”

    The man was CEO Kim Dong-han.

    “Why?”

    “Do you happen to know when this unit mission will be broadcast?”

    “Two Wednesdays from now, right?”

    “It’s actually three weeks away. The broadcast will be skipped two weeks from now because of the national football A-match day.”

    “Alright. So?”

    “And that day is also the premiere of the Wednesday-Thursday drama High School in Melody.”

    “…And?”

    “Jia’s solo song for Idol War… is the OST for High School in Melody.”

    “…What?”

    “It’s going to appear multiple times in High School in Melody, which airs at 10 PM—and then premiere officially in a survival stage on a variety show at 11 PM.”

    Seon-ho explained with a calm expression.

  • The Regressed Extra Becomes a Genius Chapter 192

    As December approached and the cold gradually intensified, the students of the Mage Academy began to wear thicker clothing.

    Right now, beside me, Yoon Hayoung was wrapped from head to toe in a black long padded coat like a gimbap and sniffled.

    “Ugh. It’s cold. Sunwoo, aren’t you cold?”

    Yoon Hayoung looked up at me with curious eyes.

    At the moment, I was only wearing a fleece over my school uniform jacket. It was closer to autumn attire than winter wear.

    “You know. I don’t really get cold or hot.”

    “I mean, I know, but it’s still surprising every time I see it. You’re not secretly sticking hot packs inside your clothes or something?”

    Yoon Hayoung looked at me suspiciously.

    The image of someone sticking hot packs all over their body made me laugh involuntarily.

    “As if.”

    Yoon Hayoung and I walked across the Mage Academy campus toward the Manifestation Division’s magic training ground.

    Along the way, we passed a few students, all of whom looked at me with eyes full of admiration.

    At first, it felt nice, but recently it’s become overwhelming.

    As we continued walking, I spotted a familiar face in the distance. It was Choi Seo-yoon, sitting on a bench with a sulky expression.

    “…What’s up with her now?”

    When I quietly muttered, Yoon Hayoung responded.

    “They say she’s feeling down because she didn’t get first place in the final exams.”

    “Ah…”

    Well, if it’s the first time she lost first place, I guess that would be upsetting.

    Lee Seo-jun was like that during the midterms too.

    I, who climbed up from the bottom, couldn’t relate to that feeling at all.

    “Tsk.”

    I didn’t feel like offering any awkward words of comfort, so I just left her be.

    Time passed, and we arrived at the Manifestation Division’s training ground.

    Lee Hee-young, the instructor of the Manifestation Division, saw me and approached with a bright smile, as if she had been waiting.

    “Sunwoo!”

    “Hello.”

    I bowed my head, and as always, she looked at me with a proud expression.

    “I saw your performance in the captain match. I never imagined you’d use such a high-level area magic. Thanks to that, I won the be— oops.”

    She cut herself off mid-sentence.

    “A bet?”

    “It’s nothing. Hoho.”

    She looked suspicious, but it didn’t seem related to me, so I let it go.

    “Alright, everyone! Go ahead and start your individual training.”

    I nodded and entered the training ground.

    Inside, the long, straight space resembled a shooting range.

    Students were practicing magic at their respective spots.

    After the final exams, students undergo self-training instead of regular classes until the break begins.

    Since there isn’t much time left, it’s more efficient to refine what we’ve already learned over the year rather than learn something new.

    After parting ways with Yoon Hayoung, I headed to my spot.

    Next to me, Yoo Ara was training intensely, firing her usual savage fire orbs.

    Alright, I guess it’s time to start my own training.

    Before beginning, I checked my trait, one of the perks of being an outsider.

    ━━
    [Magic Control (A)]

    [Training Progress: 0.1%]
    ━━

    I had reached the A-rank I wanted, but since I hadn’t used magic properly since then, I hadn’t really felt the difference.

    Even though I was still at the beginning of A-rank, the fact that I ranked up should mean there was a meaningful change.

    I planned to use this self-training time to fully experience that change.

    First, I started with the “Manifestation” phase, the first step in Manifestation Division magic.

    Wuuuung.

    A white point of light gathered above my hand and began to form into a sphere.

    So far, it wasn’t much different from before.

    Next, I used “Compressed Manifestation.”

    While maintaining the spherical form, I increased the amount of mana contained within.

    Wuuuung…!

    The sphere shook slightly and the once-blue light began to gradually shift to a silvery hue.

    The speed of compressed manifestation had clearly improved.

    Before, it took quite some time to compress mana and maintain a stable form, but now it was nearly twice as fast.

    Reaching A-rank had definitely improved my magic control ability.

    I couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction.

    ‘I wonder if I can go one step further in manifestation now?’

    Feeling the growth sparked ambition within me.

    The maximum magic I could compress. My new limit.

    Just how far could I go?

    [Activating use effect: “Heart of Nature.”]

    Thump!

    As soon as I activated Heart of Nature, my depleted mana began recovering rapidly.

    I kept accumulating more and more mana into the sphere, refueling what had been drained from focusing on manifestation.

    Wuuuuuuung…!

    The silvery sphere hovering above my hand trembled slowly.

    The efficiency of mana use required for compression had drastically increased.

    I could feel it instinctively.

    I could manifest a higher-grade spell from here.

    Wuuuuuuung…!

    “Gasp!”

    After about three minutes, a subtle change occurred in the sphere.

    The silver glow began to take on a faint golden hue.

    Silver mana represents an A-rank mage. And the one that symbolizes S-rank is “gold.”

    It took three full minutes to force it into existence, but I had successfully manifested golden magic.

    My chest trembled with a sense of accomplishment.

    Of course, it was barely gold—so faint it felt wrong to even call it that—but seeing the long-dreamed golden glow in my own hands made my heart race uncontrollably.

    I extended my hand toward the target.

    Took a deep breath.

    And then fired the magic toward the target.

    Paaang—!

    The softly glowing golden sphere shot forward, tearing through the air.

    The recoil pushed my body backward significantly.

    Perhaps because I forced a spell beyond my capacity, my right arm throbbed with pain and trembled after the cast.

    The fact that just releasing it put this much strain on my body said everything about its destructive power.

    I watched as the sphere go forward. The shimmering golden afterglow looked beautiful.

    Kwaaang!

    The magic struck the target with a massive boom.

    At the same time, a message appeared in front of my eyes.

    [You’ve successfully manifested faint but golden mana for the first time!]

    [Training progress of Magic Control (A) has increased by 3%.]

    [Mana has increased by 1.]

    [You have earned 3,000 points.]

    “…Oh.”

    I gained points.

    And 3% training progress as a bonus.

    Though the reward felt a bit stingy since the gold was so faint, what mattered was that I had grown stronger.

    Smiling in satisfaction, I turned my head as I felt someone’s gaze.

    “…”

    Yoo Ara was staring at me wide-eyed.

    After finishing all the day’s school activities, I lay on the dormitory sofa and browsed the news.

    [Next year’s list of participants for the Sacred Martial Festival, known as a celebration for promising mages, has been confirmed.]

    The news anchor calmly reported on the festival.

    Soon, photos of students from each school who would be participating were displayed in a row.

    The students from the Korean Mage Academy were placed front and center, making them easy to spot.

    As I was watching the news, my smart student planner gave an alert.

    [This Thursday: There will be a special elective activity.]

    [Students, please select the activity you wish to participate in.]

    A special elective activity. Though exams were over and the break was just around the corner, they were doing this again.

    If I remembered correctly, this special activity was more of a “trip” than a class or educational program.

    For the third-years, it would be their graduation trip, and for the first- and second-years, it would be a final memory before the end of the school year.

    ━━

    1. Seoul Magic Arena
    2. Korea Magic Folk Village
    3. Seoul Mystery Museum
      ━━

    “Hmm.”

    According to the original story, nothing particularly eventful happens on this day.

    It’s just briefly used as a setup to drop hints for developments that will come later.

    Still, just in case, it’s probably the right call to follow Lee Seo-jun.

    I immediately clicked on the message.

    [Special Activity, Where?]

    I sent a message to Lee Seo-jun.

    It might come off as a little short and blunt, but since we’re both guys, it doesn’t really matter.

    About ten seconds later, a reply came back.

    [Seoul Magic Arena. You?]

    “Knew it.”

    Seoul Magic Arena.

    It’s the same as in the original.

    In the first place, magic sports are hugely popular among the public as a form of entertainment, so much so that some students dream of becoming sports mages in the future.

    [I’m heading there too]

    [lol ok. Wanna be in the same group again?]

    [Sure]

    After replying, I logged into the school info system and selected “Seoul Magic Arena.”

    [Selection completed.]

    Once I was done, I stood up. Just as I was about to head to the fridge for a drink, an alert popped up on my smartphone.

    [Jinwoo, what are you doing?]

    It was Han Se-yeon.

    She usually messages around this time, so I wasn’t surprised.

    [Just resting. You?]

    [Me too. I’ve been working until now and just taking a short break.]

    “Hmm.”

    I was thinking about how to respond when another message came in.

    [By any chance, have you heard from my father?]

    Han Dae-hyeon? Still no direct contact.

    He said he’d reach out after our last meal. I don’t know what someone who’s ill does all day, but he must be busy.

    Or maybe he just forgot about me.

    [No, nothing yet.]

    [I see. I was just curious. My dad seemed interested in you.]

    Interested in me, huh.

    So Han Dae-hyeon hasn’t forgotten about me.

    Then suddenly, I had something I wanted to ask Han Se-yeon.

    [By the way, is it possible for you to make a potion that’s about ten times more effective than the mana elixir you made last time?]

    To use the power of causality, I need mana.

    But right now, I can’t use the power due to a shortage of mana—so I needed a way to get more.

    Maybe Han Se-yeon could solve that part for me.

    [Ten times..? Why ten?]

    [I have something coming up that will require a large amount of mana.]

    [Ten times is tough. I might be able to make something about five times stronger if I make it really condensed, but the side effects would be way worse. It could even leave lasting damage.]

    “…Hmm. So it’s not possible, huh?”

    I expected that, but hearing it directly still left me disappointed.

    Even if it were possible, I wouldn’t be able to use it with those kinds of side effects.

    [Okay, got it. Can’t be helped.]

    “…I guess I’ll have to rely on a magic tool?”

    From what I remember, there are a few artifacts that help with mana supply.

    In fact, Jaun owns two relics—the “Mana Core” and “Poseidon”—that are designed specifically to supply mana.

    But those belong to Jaun.

    With my current power, I can’t get my hands on them.

    “Ugh. Who knows.”

    A solution will come eventually.

    Thursday, 10 a.m.—Special Elective Activity Day at the Magic Academy.

    Nearly 400 students were gathered at the front gate, their faces full of excitement.

    There are about 450 students total, but roughly 50 third-years who have already secured graduation didn’t participate.

    Kim Chang-hyun was one of them.

    “Ah, I’m really looking forward to today’s match. I heard we’re watching a champion’s match. Do you watch matches too?”

    As we waited for the rest of our group, Lee Seo-jun asked me.

    Magic Matches.

    As the name suggests, they’re magical combat matches between mages—basically magical MMA.

    The key difference from the “Underground Arena” I watched with Han Se-yeon during the first semester is that the underground fights were dangerous enough to cost your life.

    Magic Matches, on the other hand, are official and legal events held under strict and safe rules, so they’re suitable for all ages to watch.

    “…I watch sometimes. Usually just when I’m flipping through channels and catch it.”

    “Yeah, most people are like that. I only watch occasionally too, but man, they’re really cool.”

    “They are cool.”

    I nodded.

    At that moment, a male and female student approached from the distance.

    Famous faces in the academy: Choi Seo-yoon and Jeon Min-gi.

    “Senior!”

    Choi Seo-yoon smiled brightly and bowed slightly to me.

    After her defeat during finals, she seemed down for a while, but she appears to have bounced back and returned to her usual cheerful self.

    “Alright, since everyone’s here, let’s get going.”

    Following the teacher’s direction, we stepped into the portal gate.

    In an instant, our vision flashed—and a massive circular arena came into view.

    “Wow.”

    Staring at the enormous structure, the students looked up in awe.

    It resembled the Colosseum, but redesigned with a far more modern—no, futuristic aesthetic.

    “Hey, hey! That’s Champion Won Hyukjin’s poster!”

    Someone pointed at a giant poster plastered on the arena’s outer wall.

    Champion Won Hyukjin.

    A mage nearing S-rank, unheard of for a sports player, and currently undefeated.

    “Who’s the opponent next to him? A rookie?”

    “Yeah, I heard it’s their first match today.”

    I looked up at the poster with the other students.

    A familiar face.

    I hadn’t seen that face in almost ten months.

    He used to be skinny, but now he looked a bit healthier.

    Liang Liang.

    Champion of the Underground Arena—and a future villain who would one day join Jaun.

  • A Veteran Player Becomes a Troublemaker Chapter 97

    Winter faded, and spring arrived in a burst of blossoms.

    The western and southern regions buzzed with activity—soldiers busy in war, farmers bent over their fields, plowing and sowing. The heaviest fighting raged along the border between the two territories.

    Together, these lands produced 80% of the empire’s grain. Control them, and victory in the civil war was assured.

    That’s why armies converged here. That’s why the clashes reached apocalyptic scales. And that’s why most of the dying happened here.

    “Ugh, damn this war. Can’t we live in peace for once? They’re taking 70% of this year’s harvest in taxes. Maybe I should quit farming altogether.”

    Charles was an ordinary southern farmer.

    For peasants like him, tucked far from the frontlines, daily life hadn’t changed much—except for the crippling taxes that made him want to scream.

    Even country folk knew why taxes had spiked.

    Natural disasters had ravaged multiple regions, gutting harvests.

    ‘Why should we bleed and sweat to fix other lords’ problems?’

    Rumors swirled that their lord was shipping their crops to curry favour with the capital. Everyone knew. Everyone believed.

    “Sweet merciful skies! Don’t say such things! What if they drag our children into this mess?!”

    Charles’ wife—always high-strung—jumped like a scalded cat at his muttering. Today, her nerves were frayed raw.

    “If trouble comes, it’ll come for me. What’re you on about?”

    “You didn’t hear? Goldenbow’s sons—all three—got conscripted yesterday!”

    “The jeweler’s boys? Since when are you chummy with them? Thought the draft was two per household?”

    “I ran into Mistress Goldenbow at market. Soldiers came at dawn—any family not farming or smithing got emptied out!”

    “You certain? Damn. Might snatch our boys next.”

    “Thank the gods I eavesdrop. Rumor is, farmers and smiths are safe—for now.”

    A small mercy.

    “Don’t care about much else—just want our firstborn home alive. But if your loose tongue gets the others drafted, what then?”

    His wife’s eyes teary. Charles wiped her tears, rough hands awkwardly gentle.

    “Hey. I am just joking. Don’t cry.”

    “Don’t joke like that! My heart can’t take it!”

    “Alright, alright.”

    He soothed her, gaze drifting to their younger sons working the distant field. Unlike them, his eldest was likely knee-deep in corpses by now.

    A conscription officer—a drinking buddy—had been bribed to spare his boys. Then the eldest ruined it.

    “I’ll never plough another field! I’ll earn a knighthood in the war!”

    With those words, he’d volunteered, squandering his father’s coin and his mother’s tears.

    ‘That fool better come back breathing.’

    Still his blood. Still his worry.

    The rage when he’d left had curdled into something quieter, heavier.

    Was he eating? Sleeping? Alive?

    No letters. No news. Just silence where a son should be.

    ‘Stubborn ox. Street-brawler since he could walk. Too tough to die easy.’

    But war had a way of grinding down tough men.

    ‘Come back without a single medal, and I’ll beat the stupid out of you myself.’

    Just as he imagined thrashing some sense into the boy—

    BOOOOM—!

    The earth split open.

    “SWEET GODS—! WHY’S THE GROUND—?!”

    “WOMAN! GRAB MY—!”

    The earthquake hit like a hammer. Then—

    RUMBLE—!

    A new sound.

    They turned. Froze.

    The mountain behind their field was coming apart.

    “CH-CHARLES—!”

    Too late to run. Too late to even stand.

    Against nature’s wrath, they could only cling—

    CRASH—!

    —before the landslide swallowed them whole.

    The earthquake erased Charles’ family in an instant.

    Nature had joined the war.

    And its casualties would reshape the empire.

    Natural Disasters in the Western and Southern Regions

    And that became the signal flare of the nightmare.

    In the western and southern regions known as the granary areas, all kinds of natural disasters began occurring—torrential rains causing floods, droughts, and pest infestations.

    In the south, marine monsters became active, blocking not only fishing but also maritime trade routes. Even when attempting to purchase food from other countries via land routes, nations eyeing the empire’s territory refused to sell food, creating a dire situation.

    Some countries, uncertain which prince would become emperor, either conducted trade cautiously or refused altogether, claiming they were also experiencing shortages. Even when food was somehow acquired, it was often plundered by bandits.

    Still, there was hope that last year’s harvest might somehow see them through this year.

    But that hope was quickly shattered.

    Fierce battles raged in the south and west, with special forces infiltrating deep into territories to burn crops. It revealed how ugly humans could be—as if thinking “I can’t die alone” or “If I can’t have it, I’ll destroy it.”

    Even after overcoming all those trials, the crops that had somehow survived were completely wiped out by a sudden swarm of locusts.

    When “soaring food prices” turned into a confirmed “famine,” all territories finally went into emergency mode. People in their territories were already beginning to starve to death.

    But by the time it became an established fact, any response was far too late. It was a crisis with flames already at their feet—an unprecedented famine in the empire’s history!

    Amid this situation, a rumor began spreading among the people.

    “They say there’s a way to eat a weed called Levior, which only grows in the north and was used as a pesticide.”

    “Apparently, it tastes terrible but fills your stomach.”

    This rumor, which started in the north, quickly spread to the east, west, and eventually even the farthest corners of the south.

    “They say Schrantz County, a remote northern territory, has large stockpiles of Levior and is even ‘cultivating’ it.”

    Those who heard rumors of alternative food sources naturally focused on them. The origin or veracity of the rumors didn’t matter—what mattered was the possibility of securing food in the face of a confirmed famine.

    Merchants moved the fastest. Though they didn’t know if it was true, if it was, it could be an opportunity. They rushed to secure Levior as quickly as possible, leading to an unprecedented influx of merchant groups from all over heading toward Schrantz.

    As the rumor spread rapidly, nearby territories were the first to react. Due to their physical proximity, it was inevitable that the closest territories would come first.

    A total of 40 merchant groups arrived to trade for Levior.

    Ian decided to conduct this trade in Dariel Village, as it was where most of the Levior was stored. The Levior stockpiled in Rosen wasn’t for sale—it was reserved for distribution to the territory’s people during food shortages.

    “Young Master, are you really sure about this?”

    “About what?”

    “The trade. You’re really going to handle it yourself?”

    Nea was worried about Ian, and for good reason—he had insisted on personally handling the Levior trade this time.

    “Wouldn’t it be better to call the Schrantz trade envoy to handle it on your behalf, even now?”

    Nea offered sincere advice out of concern for him.

    Merchants had their own specialized skills. Even if he was a war hero who could turn the tide of battle, trade and negotiation with merchants were entirely different. She feared that Ian, who was neither lord nor heir, wouldn’t be able to match the seasoned merchants in trade dealings and might end up being manipulated, losing face in the process.

    “It’s fine. I know a thing or two about trading.”

    The only trade Ian had ever conducted was with the elf village. That deal had gone smoothly because their interests aligned perfectly, but this trade would be nothing like that.

    ‘Sigh… I should trust the Young Master.’

    Was Ian’s stubbornness normal? While he would yield if he thought his subordinates’ advice was correct, when he dug in his heels like this, there was no changing his mind.

    ‘And usually, when he insists this much, it means he has a plan.’

    Perhaps it was because she had observed him for so long, but she knew that when Ian was this stubborn, it was because he was confident he could succeed. She even felt a little anticipation about how he would successfully negotiate with the merchant leaders—though her unease was still greater.

    “Well then, it’s about time. Shall we go in?”

    Ian headed to the reception room.

    Inside, men dressed stylishly and adorned with precious metals were seated. They were all the merchant leaders who had come this time.

    When Ian entered, the waiting men rose from their seats.

    “Long time no see, Lord Ian.”

    “You seem even more impressive than just a few months ago.”

    Ian glanced at Nea. Realizing why he was looking at her, she sighed softly and quietly explained.

    “They’re the merchant leaders who came to trade Levior with us before.”

    “Ah, right.”

    He hadn’t paid much attention to them before, having only exchanged a few brief words, so he didn’t remember them.

    “Thank you for coming all this way. Please, everyone, have a seat.”

    Ian took the seat of honor.

    Watching him, the merchant leaders laughed inwardly.

    ‘Heh heh, Lord Ian is our trading counterpart?’

    ‘His memory is bad—does that mean he’s not that bright? Maybe we can make a good deal here.’

    They saw Ian as an easy mark.

    And why wouldn’t they? He was the one who had paid good money for Levior, a weed no one else wanted to buy. They thought he was just a lucky fool who had stumbled into a windfall.

    ‘Do they really think I’ll just roll over and let them take advantage of me?’

    Ian inwardly sneered, fully aware of what the merchants were thinking. He could practically see them mentally calculating how much profit they could squeeze out of him.

    “For merchants, time is money, right? Then let me ask directly: How much are each of you willing to pay?”

  • How to Live as a Magical Genius at the Academy Chapter 59

    “Abydos-nim, how do you plan to leave this island?”

    “You worry too much, junior.”

    The lich’s name was Abydos.

    He was a “Lich Priest” of the Necromancer Order, and it seemed he had gone into slumber here in this underground tomb with his mummy legion in preparation for the future.

    “With my magic, it’s not difficult to create a fleet that could carry this entire legion.”

    “I see. That’s truly impressive.”

    “We’ll land the legion at the nearest port, slaughter the mortals there, and turn their corpses into undead soldiers. We’ll grow our forces that way.”

    “……”

    “I hear the cult has no real presence left on the surface, so it falls on us to rebuild it. We’ll need to find other underground tombs like this one, where legions lie dormant. There’s much to do.”

    Abydos was completely convinced that I was a descendant of the Cult.

    For reference, I had explained that Cain, Senia, Helios, and Ingrid were my companions. I told him they were subordinates who followed me, even if they weren’t well-versed in the cult’s teachings.

    “But, Abydos-nim, even if we’re going to leave the island… don’t we need to first bring these undead soldiers up to the surface? The passage is too narrow—it’ll take ages.”

    “You really are full of worries, aren’t you? If you activate the switch over there, a direct exit to the surface will open. It’s wide enough, so don’t worry.”

    “I see.”

    It was only natural that I’d be worried.

    If we marched outside like this, we’d run straight into the students who had forfeited, and a massacre would be inevitable.

    But how could I stop it…

    “Hmm.”

    At that moment, Abydos raised his head.

    “Looks like they’ve finally arrived.”

    “…!”

    “I was lingering here for the sake of greeting them.”

    A menacing energy radiated from Abydos’s entire body.

    “The mages of this era have come to capture me.”

    From the entrance we had used earlier—

    Professors were charging in.

    “To think a place like this was hidden underground! Damn it!”

    “Charlotte Strasbourg was telling the truth!”

    At least a thousand mummies—probably more.

    Staring up at them, Klein bit his lip.

    ‘Not knowing about this… That’s a failure on our part as keepers of knowledge!’

    The mummy soldiers appeared to already be active.

    But despite Klein and the others’ arrival, they didn’t move. It seemed they required a command from a higher entity to take action.

    “Hey, look over there!”

    Professor Murselt, who was in front, raised a hand.

    At the far end… stood a skull radiating ominous aura.

    “A lich!”

    Professor Sylvia raised her voice immediately, recognizing it at a glance.

    “That’s definitely a lich! He’s holding a staff with a red orb… He must be a Lich Priest from the Necromancer Cult!”

    “A mage who has become an immortal…”

    But Klein was more disturbed by something else than the Lich Priest’s presence.

    Students were standing beside the lich.

    “That coward! He’s using the students…!”

    Murselt ground his teeth and stepped forward.

    But at that moment—

    “Gasp…!”

    The skeletons in front of the Lich Priest began to move.

    They were not ordinary skeletons, but heavily reinforced beings—Death Warriors.

    Their bony fingers had grown sharp like the claws of wild beasts.

    “Stop, mortals.”

    Right after the Death Warriors blocked the way, a chilling voice came from the Lich Priest.

    Just hearing it was enough to sense the sheer magnitude of his power.

    ‘A Lich Priest of the Necromancer Cult. Just how strong is he?’

    Their active period was from far before the vampire hunts of centuries past.

    Even Klein, a professor and a Transcendental Department, couldn’t accurately estimate the Lich Priest’s power.

    ‘Still, just being a lich means he was an incredible mage.’

    Praying that he wasn’t a combat-type mage, Klein surveyed the surroundings.

    The four-digit number of mummy soldiers didn’t show any sign of attacking yet.

    If that Lich Priest was more specialized in controlling lesser undead rather than direct combat, they might be able to take him down with a surprise attack…

    “How rude. Not even a proper greeting?”

    Just then—

    An overwhelming wave of fatigue crushed Klein.

    “Urgh…!”

    He couldn’t hold his body upright.

    His limbs lost strength, and he collapsed on the spot.

    “Is this your first time being hit by a curse spell?”

    “…!”

    A curse spell.

    Once regarded, along with necromancy, as the epitome of wicked magic.

    These days, with its true nature revealed, it was known as a “biological weakening spell,” not a curse.

    ‘How can it be this strong…!’

    As dizziness overtook him, Klein was in shock—

    When suddenly, a voice called out urgently next to him.

    “Snap out of it, Professor Klein!”

    “…!”

    And then, strength returned to his body.

    He realized Sylvia had used biological healing magic to treat the Lich Priest’s curse.

    “Raaaagh!”

    Murselt, freed from the curse spell as well, roared and jumped forward with his muscles bulging.

    Using biological reinforcement magic to push his strength to the limit, he threw his fist at the Death Warriors blocking the way.

    “Professor Klein! Cover me!”

    “Right!”

    Boom!

    Murselt’s fist smashed into a Death Warrior, and Klein’s fire magic followed, destroying several at once.

    Yet the Lich Priest didn’t look the least bit flustered.

    “You’re quite skilled. I appreciate that you’re all casting without incantations.”

    With those words, the Lich Priest flicked his hand.

    The mummies who had remained silent at their posts began to stir.

    “I’d like to see the magic of this era. Show me more of your skills.”

    A horde of mummy soldiers rushed forward and surrounded the professors.

    ‘The professors alone won’t be enough to handle this.’

    Watching the professors being surrounded by dozens of mummy soldiers, I bit my lip.

    They could probably deal with that many, but lining the surrounding walls were tens of times more, lying in wait.

    The only reason Abydos hadn’t deployed them all at once was due to lack of space.

    ‘In the end, the professors will collapse from exhaustion.’

    I scanned the area.

    Right now, the only one who fully understood what I was thinking was Senia. Cain seemed to have a vague idea, but Helios and Ingrid still looked clueless.

    The one small mercy was that no one had acted rashly and drawn Abydos’s suspicion.

    ‘I can’t miss the moment Abydos shows an opening.’

    As I kept watch, waiting for a chance—

    I saw a man soaring high into the air in front of me.

    ‘Professor Murselt!’

    Murselt, the master of biological enhancement magic, broke through the encirclement.

    Charging at us like an enraged bull, he showed the true nature of a close-combat mage.

    “You coward! Taking students hostage?!”

    “Hostage?”

    Abydos replied in a scoffing tone.

    “You’re mistaken about something.”

    “What? Ugh…!”

    Murselt faltered mid-charge, as if a curse had taken effect.

    “These children are descendants of the Necromancer Order.”

    “What are you talking about?!”

    “They’re young apostles of the Red Moon, capable of reciting the First Necromancer’s Prayer.”

    “That’s absurd…!”

    Abydos turned his gaze toward me, ignoring the stunned Murselt.

    “Junior, I give you your first mission.”

    “Lord Abydos…”

    “Deal with that foolish mortal.”

    Next to me, Helios and the others gasped.

    But from our position, we had no way of refusing Abydos’ command.

    “Understood.”

    “Hey, Eriol!”

    Helios shouted at me desperately, but I ignored him and turned to Cain.

    “Cain, can I leave this to you?”

    “Hm… That seems appropriate.”

    Without needing much explanation, Cain seemed to understand my intention.

    ‘Cain should be able to buy me some time. And Professor Murselt won’t go all out against a student.’

    Then Cain immediately called out to Helios and Ingrid.

    “Helios, Ingrid. You come too.”

    “What?”

    “C-Cain…?”

    “Let’s leave this to Eriol.”

    After saying that, Cain gave me a subtle look.

    A glance that said, “They’ll just get in the way if they stay here, so I’ll take care of them.”

    ‘Thanks, Cain.’

    As expected, Cain was great at adapting to the situation.

    He did even more than I had hoped, stepping forward with Helios and Ingrid in tow.

    “Y-You guys! What the hell…!”

    “Sorry about this, Professor!”

    Cain charged at the flustered Murselt, and though Helios and Ingrid seemed reluctant, they followed behind him.

    “Hmph. That kid’s surprisingly skilled in martial arts…”

    Abydos murmured, touching his jawbone.

    But there was still no opening.

    ‘If the moment comes, Senia will move first.’

    Right now, Senia was silently concentrating.

    She was waiting for the exact moment Abydos let his guard down.

    Only Senia—or maybe Cain—could perceive an opening in a monster like that lich.

    I had to wait until Senia made her move.

    “Eriol Valencia…!”

    At that moment, Klein burst through the circle of mummies.

    “What is going on?! That you’re some descendant of an evil cult—there’s no way that’s true!”

    “Professor…”

    “You’re a top student at Ars Magna Academy! You’re supposed to keep learning magic under me! This is insane!”

    Klein screamed, glaring at Abydos.

    “Let go of Eriol, you wicked lich…!”

    “…!”

    In that moment, I sensed a complex magic formation unfurling from Klein.

    A powerful spell was coming.

    “Hellfire Spear!”

    A flame spear, forged from the inferno of hell and compressed to the extreme!

    Its power dwarfed any fire magic I could cast.

    But the dark energy erupting from Abydos consumed Klein’s flaming spear whole.

    ‘Joshua used a power like that too…!’

    After nullifying Klein’s flame magic, Abydos took a step forward.

    “I’ll deal with that one. You all just stand back and watch.”

    “Lord Abydos, are you planning to deal with that mage yourself?”

    “Of course.”

    I got the distinct impression he was smiling wickedly.

    “Once I take his life… I’ll make him a Death Mage. He seems worthy of the honor.”

    “…”

    I remembered how he had ripped bones from the corpses of sailors earlier to create Death Mage.

    Was he planning to do the same to Klein?

    “Watch carefully, clever junior!”

    Abydos raised his staff and shouted with imposing force.

    “This is the power you should strive for—the true might of necromancy!”

    I could feel a complex magical array forming at the tip of his staff.

    It would be powerful enough to kill someone like Klein in an instant.

    Abydos was from an era when mages cast spells through incantation.

    Casting powerful spells without incantation required immense concentration.

    Senia did not miss that moment—she moved silently.

    ‘The weapon Professor Hephaestus gave us looks like an ordinary dungeon dagger under normal conditions.’

    Senia and I each had one such dagger strapped to our hips.

    By pressing a button on the hilt, the blade would unfold, extending into the length of a longsword.

    Hephaestus had named it the “Progressive Blade.”

    “…!”

    Senia hailed from the famed swordsmanship house, Artian.

    Her specialty was longsword combat.

    Though still in training, Senia with a proper longsword in hand… was fast enough to exploit the gap left by a mage focusing on chantless casting.

    “What?!”

    Thunk!

    A lightning-fast thrust that would have instantly killed a human.

    But Abydos was a lich. A stab to the back wouldn’t kill him.

    Still, his concentration was broken. I could tell the magic array was unraveling.

    “You wretch…!”

    Abydos raised his hand, voice filled with fury.

    That dark energy—if it touched Senia, she wouldn’t survive.

    But at that moment—

    ‘Now!’

    Click.

    Holding the Progressive Blade I had given him, the Dragon Fang soldier, Deathvice, made his move.

  • TFHITS Chapter 10

    While walking through the estate, a crowd began to gather around us.

    “Huh? Isn’t that Mr. Grey?”

    “He’s tied up. Did he do something wrong? Haven’t seen him around for days.”

    “No way. Mr. Grey’s always been so kind.”

    “Who are those people with him?”

    It seemed Grey had done a decent job of building a reputation. The crowd wore expressions of shock and concern.

    One man even stepped in front of us and asked,

    “Excuse me, but why are you dragging Mr. Grey around like that?”

    At that moment, Grey had been gagged again, so all he could do was groan and mumble to express his frustration.

    I calmly replied,

    “He committed a serious crime.”

    “That can’t be. No, seriously, who are you people? Are you from the Inspectorate?”

    “We’re just mercenaries hired to investigate.”

    “Mercenaries?”

    “Yes. My name is Mide Mohan.”

    “Mide… I feel like I’ve heard that before. Wait—”

    Soon, the man and the people around him started to change expressions.

    They whispered among themselves.

    “Mide? That’s the Swordmaster of No Killing.”

    “That eccentric mercenary who wanders the continent?”

    “I heard there are only ten top-class mercenaries even in the entire guild registry.”

    “But still, he’s just a mercenary. What authority does a mercenary have to make arrests?”

    “Even if he was hired… no, he wouldn’t be able to do it so openly like this.”

    That last whisper struck at the heart of the matter.

    The man seemed to think so too, as he questioned me.

    “No matter how famous you are—Sir Mide, was it?—it’s strange to be dragging off an innocent man like this.”

    “I told you. He’s not innocent.”

    “That can’t be. Mr. Grey has helped so many people in this estate. Then who exactly hired you?”

    I answered gently,

    “Baron Frank de Levant.”

    “…”

    “Do you have anything more to say?”

    “N-No. I apologize for stopping you.”

    Once I mentioned the name of the lord of the territory, no one else stood in our way.

    Good. Now the rumors about me will start to spread.

    Perfect fertilizer.

    By the time I finish this job, it’ll bloom into a fruit called ‘reputation.’

    Trail spoke nonsense in my head.

    [Excellent. There is nothing more I can teach you.]

    Of course, I had never received any request from the lord.

    But I still walked confidently toward Baron Frank’s mansion.

    Naturally, no one opens the doors for uninvited guests.

    As expected, the guards stopped us.

    “Halt. Who the hell are you?”

    “I’d like to speak with the lord.”

    “What? Pfft. One of these nuts pops up every few years. Hey, you think the lord is someone just anyone can meet? You must’ve lost your mind, boy.”

    Neril clenched and unclenched her fists, visibly annoyed.

    I lightly patted Grey’s back.

    Thump.

    “Urgh.”

    One of the guards frowned.

    “What’s up with him? Huh? Isn’t that Mr. Grey?”

    “That’s right.”

    “You bastard… under what authority did you tie him up?!”

    “Seems you know him well?”

    “Mr. Grey supplies utensils to this house. He’s been a business partner for years. Release him at once!”

    The guards began to surround us with menacing expressions.

    Before they could make a move, I spoke first.

    “Maybe a long-time partner—but not a good one.”

    “What?”

    “Hasn’t the lord recently lost a treasured heirloom?”

    Freeze.

    The guards, who looked like they were about to charge in, stopped cold.

    I rummaged through my bag and pulled out the jewel box we found in the basement.

    I gave it a light shake and said,

    “This came from that bastard’s tool shop.”

    “…!”

    “If you’re wise men, you’d know that no matter how long a business relationship lasts, no one could easily steal from the lord.”

    “Y-You mean—?”

    “Yes. There’s an accomplice on the inside. And I know exactly who it is. So…”

    I licked my lips slowly.

    “Let me speak with the lord. Privately.”

    Thirty minutes of frantic commotion later, Neril, Grey (still bound), and I were granted an audience with the lord.

    Baron Frank wore a stern expression as he spoke.

    “A top-class mercenary, you say?”

    “Yes. I apologize for requesting an audience so suddenly, but the matter was urgent.”

    “Hmph. A top-class mercenary should be more than capable of leading a knight order. Considering the information and skills you brought, I’ll overlook the breach of etiquette.”

    Neril let out a faint snort, as if to say what if he didn’t forgive us? Fortunately, Baron Frank didn’t seem to notice.

    “Now tell me everything. How did you find this jewel box?”

    I began to talk, just as I’d prepared in advance.

    “Let me begin with the background. Grey is quite close with Tobian Petton, your head butler. Years ago, when Tobian’s only daughter was kidnapped by thugs, it was Grey who found her and reported it.”

    “I remember that.”

    Well, that was a setup by Grey himself.

    Among Grey’s victims was a man named Tobian Petton. Wanting to cozy up to the head butler, Gray had his men kidnap the daughter.

    Too complicated to explain, so I left that part out.

    “It started as a good relationship, but Gray slowly began seducing Tobian.”

    “…”

    “He said, ‘Surely the mansion has many valuable trinkets—nothing important to the lord. If you pass them to me, I can sell them for a high price through my own channels.’”

    “…”

    “He started small, with teacups and ornaments. But he got bolder. Eventually—”

    I didn’t finish the sentence and instead nodded toward the jewel box in the baron’s hand.

    Their greed, bloated like an overfed belly, had led them hand-in-hand to the lord’s heirloom.

    The baron, having pieced things together, wore a somber expression.

    “Tobian, that bastard…”

    “Tobian committed a serious offense. But it was Grey who first suggested the idea.”

    “Hmm…”

    “There’s one proposal I’d like to make.”

    The baron’s expression hardened.

    He leaned back in his chair and growled in a low voice.

    “Are you under some illusion?”

    “Pardon?”

    “Sure, I admit you did a great service in this matter. But that only deserves an appropriate reward. It doesn’t give you the right to make suggestions to me.”

    Crunch.

    Hm? I think I just heard the sound of veins popping somewhere?

    I glanced sideways and my eyes landed at Neril’s forehead.

    ‘Still, she’s holding it in well. She’s grown since seven years ago, Neril.’

    「What an incredibly contradictory statement.」

    ‘The flow of time really is scary. It even managed to tame that temper of hers.’

    「Which is why I’m saying it didn’t flow—it reversed.」

    Well, anyway.

    I slowly opened my mouth.

    “I would like Grey to be put on public trial. This isn’t the only crime he’s committed, after all.”

    “You. I clearly said I could not approve such a thing.”

    “I’ve compiled everything here. Would you like to take a look?”

    I dropped a book onto the table as if casually tossing it aside.

    During the two days I waited for Neril, I had looked into Grey’s secrets through the eye of omniscience.

    It was a notebook summarizing all that.

    Trail muttered:

    「This book contains all the heat and passion of my youth. Hoo… I was only able to pull it off because I was young. I couldn’t do it again.」

    ‘It was just a few days ago.’

    At any rate, Count Frank surprisingly didn’t yell immediately.

    That was because, right before he could, he was stunned by the densely packed list of crimes in the book.

    Stroking his beard, he slowly went through the notebook.

    Raping and selling off the girl next door.

    Staging a fire to take out a rival tool shop.

    Poisoning the neighborhood well so his own herb shop could sell at higher prices.

    And more.

    Of course, I hadn’t included the part about him murdering the caretaker of the Enerika family cemetery, but even without that, it was a list of truly detestable acts.

    “This—this is all true? A single person committed all of this?!”

    Grey could only hang his head now, his face showing he had given up on everything.

    Let me answer for him.

    “There are many people in this world so wicked you’d suspect they were the Demon King reborn. Of course, Grey went especially overboard.”

    “……”

    “Wouldn’t it be best to reveal all of his crimes to the domain through a public trial? The lord will be remembered as the one who discovered a criminal no one else even noticed, with his keen insight.”

    Count Frank seemed tempted—he swallowed his saliva.

    I spoke again.

    “In return for uncovering all this, please just attach my name to it, even if only a little.”

    “Hmm?”

    “It’s nothing grand. Just say that it was I who reported Grey as suspicious. You can take full credit for the thorough investigation. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, wouldn’t you say?”

    “Haha. An arrangement, huh. But why bother? I could just say I uncovered it all myself from the start.”

    “I figured you’d say that.”

    I sighed lightly and spoke to Trail.

    ‘Deploy.’

    「Huh?」

    ‘Show him the lord’s secret. I want to see the truth about Aeria Emel and the lord.’

    Aeria Emel was the top name in the lord’s blood-written list.

    Trail must’ve liked the word “deploy,” because he quickly activated his power.

    And the secret I found out about the Count was…

    Snap.

    The vision cut off. I opened my mouth.

    “If it’s too difficult, then I’ll have no choice but to go ask Mr. Todman.”

    “Who’s Tod—guh!”

    “I’m not sure what the circumstances were, but it seems that your former housemaid, Aeria, is currently raising him. But still, as your son, wouldn’t he have some authority?”

    The Count’s face turned pale.

    Neril, seemingly piecing things together, glanced at me with a look of amazement.

    A few seconds later, the Count, after barely calming his pounding heart, spoke.

    “You brat. If you dare mention that to anyone…”

    “If you don’t trust me, then at least trust my reputation. To become a top-tier mercenary, I’ve seen countless things across many domains. Frankly speaking, your matter is so minor it’s hardly worth mentioning.”

    “……”

    “And don’t even think about sending soldiers after me. You yourself said earlier that a top-tier mercenary would be comparable to a knight commander.”

    In other words, don’t foolishly try to apprehend me.

    The Count nodded with a grim expression.

    “Then will you grant my request?”

    “So be it.”

    “Thank you. Ah, and just one more thing.”

    “Another request?”

    “It’s not much. Just… don’t execute Grey. He won’t be escaping a life sentence anyway.”

    “And why is that?”

    I glanced at Neril.

    Her mouth was slightly open in surprise.

    “Because someone’s already claimed him.”

    One week later.

    A public trial was held in the domain.

    The quick resolution was largely thanks to Head Steward Tobian.

    Perhaps he decided he couldn’t go down alone—he readily admitted that Grey was his accomplice in the recent incident.

    Furious, the lord unleashed the entire military force to dig up the rest of Grey’s crimes, and within a week, they were all exposed in broad daylight.

    Rumors had already spread throughout the domain after Grey was dragged away in chains a week prior.

    So with a public trial now happening, it was no surprise that the place was overflowing with people.

    ‘This brings back memories.’

    Of the public execution I hadwitnessed in the place I used to live in.

    That one wasn’t a trial, but an execution, yet the overall setup and the crowd’s scale were more than enough to stir up the past.

    “Grey Palm. The charges against you are as follows. First, conspiring with the Head Steward to steal the lord’s heirloom. Then, raping and selling Aria Krezen, daughter of Taylor Krezen…”

    “You bastard! Where’s my daughter?!”

    Someone abruptly stood up during the trial.

    The presiding judge made no effort to calm him.

    Murmurs filled the air.

    “Poor Mr. Taylor… what a tragedy.”

    “I can’t believe it was Grey… that monster.”

    “In the end, Lord Mide saw right through him. You’ve heard the rumors, right? About Lord Mide dragging Grey off like a dog?”

    “I thought they were just exaggerating, but turns out it was all true. He really caught that monster under the lord’s orders.”

    “No, I heard he was the one who first reported Grey to the lord.”

    “Wow. I thought he was just a skilled swordsman…”

    “Not only skilled, but what a noble heart. If he comes to our tool shop, I’m giving him everything for free.”

    That was the general sentiment.

    I hear it. I hear it.

    The sound of my fame rising.

  • About a Dating Sim Where Dating Is Impossible Chapter 183

    Skanderbeg, who had suddenly stopped his movements, and the Ottoman main force, which had begun lifting the siege.

    This action was not merely strange—it was outright suspicious. It was impossible to overlook. Coincidentally, this was also when Morea had just begun making efforts to establish ties with Albania.

    Wasn’t the timing far too perfect? While Halid moved to verify the truth of the rumors surrounding Skanderbeg, the Emperor began to meet frequently with Sophia in pursuit of cooperation with the Jews. Though, admittedly, she had grown somewhat prickly of late.

    “You never showed the slightest sign of wanting to share a bed for years, and now suddenly you’re with child. How fascinating. My belly remains unchanged, you know.”

    “You agreed to the conditions, did you not, my lady?”

    “Haa… But that doesn’t mean I can’t be disappointed. If Your Majesty is seriously considering an alliance with Serbia, you should begin preparing soon. My father’s health has been declining lately, after all.”

    “Your father… you mean Lord Stefan.”

    Stefan Lazarević.

    The very man who, by cooperating with the reckless schemes of the former John and attacking the Ottomans, had dragged Morea into the war. At the same time, he was surprisingly weak to his daughter, Sophia. If what Sophia said was true, it would be a reasonable situation—but only if her words were sincere. What could be said for certain was that the Empire had been too focused on the Ottomans to spare much attention for Serbia.

    Now that Serbia stood in a risky position between the Ottomans and Hungary, word of Stefan’s failing health was a sign that the power dynamics of the Balkans might soon shift. Among the issues likely to grow most important was the matter of succession. Stefan Lazarević, ruler of Serbia, had no sons. The Emperor Dragases, reminded of this fact, fixed his gaze on Sofia.

    “Surely Lord Stefan wouldn’t consider you his heir…”

    “Who knows? If only I had presented him with a grandchild.”

    “……”

    “Well, enough jokes. Father has never considered me his heir, so he’ll likely choose someone among our relatives.”

    “I see… So you’re warning me because you fear a weakening of ties with Serbia?”

    “There’s that, but this concerns Your Majesty just as much.”

    Sophia’s expression was unusually impassive. The fake smile she always wore had vanished, leaving behind a doll-like face. Her flawless, dark eyes looked straight at the Emperor.

    “Serbia sees Your Majesty as essential to standing against the Ottomans. But they haven’t forgotten your past behaviour. They likely see a lack of trustworthiness in you as an ally. And would such thoughts be limited to Serbia alone?”

    “I take it you have something you wish to say, my lady.”

    “The Christian lords of Albania probably also recognize Your Majesty’s importance in standing against the Ottomans. Yet none of them have approached Morea until now. They see that you act only for the preservation of Morea and the Empire. Perhaps they fear, as Serbia does, that Albania might be discarded as well?”

    “Is that merely an opinion?”

    “Who can say? How Your Majesty chooses to act this time will surely influence how others judge you. As a wife offering her counsel, I merely thought to inform you. I trust there’s no issue with that?”

    She spoke vaguely, but even if it was simply a guess—or an assertion—Sophia’s words were not to be ignored. If one wants to build alliances, one must demonstrate faith. It is trust that sustains alliances made of necessity. The real issue lies in the means. What should he do? After pondering, the Emperor could only offer an answer that he did not find agreeable.

    “Very well. I will accept your suggestion, my lady.”

    “Honestly… I never imagined it would take years just to persuade you.”

    “You sound as if you expected this outcome all along.”

    “Well, Your Majesty is the sort of person who would do anything to defeat the Ottomans.”

    Though Sophia replied with a smile, the Emperor could not accept her words so easily. He may have succeeded in establishing a fragile trust, but it had not grown into anything more. The Emperor, convinced there was some hidden intent behind her words, remained wary, while Sophia offered nothing but a silent smile. Clearly enjoying the attention, she grinned for a while before finally speaking again, some time later.

    “Well then, now that I’ve secured your promise, I should deliver what needs to be delivered.”

    “…This is…”

    Was he too distracted by her expression to notice it earlier? When her hands, which had been folded neatly atop her lap, moved, they revealed a sealed letter that had until then been hidden. With perfect composure, Sophia placed the letter on the desk. In this situation, there was only one question the Emperor needed to ask.

    “Who sent this letter?”

    “One of the lords who noticed Your Majesty’s interest in Albania.”

    So he’d walked right into it.

    The Emperor snatched up the letter and glared at Sophia. But the cunning Empress’s expression remained unchanged—she simply looked delighted.

    Now he understood the reason behind her earlier amusement. But it was too late. The Emperor sighed and unfolded the letter. Its contents were brief. It wasn’t an official letter to be dressed up in flowery language.

    Given the need to avoid Ottoman eyes, the letter’s few words made sense. With that in mind, the Emperor read through it and quickly grasped its message.

    “Straightforward enough. A proposal for forming an alliance against Ottoman forces.”

    The message he had been planning to propose had come from the other side first. The Emperor took it as an encouraging sign. It opened the door for Morea to intervene in Albania. The Albanians also saw the Ottomans as a threat and felt the need to join forces.

    That was fortunate. But one letter was not enough to set his mind at ease. The Emperor also quickly recognized its limitation.

    “Still, the problem is that this letter doesn’t represent all of Albania. An alliance limited to a single noble house won’t stand long against the Ottomans. We’ll need to rally all of Albania.”

    “…That’s your way of telling me to listen closely, isn’t it?”

    “Indeed. How can I trust a letter that doesn’t even name its sender?”

    “Don’t worry, it wasn’t an oversight. The Prince of Epirus personally insisted that the sender’s name be conveyed only by word of mouth.”

    “Then let’s hear what mysterious name awaits us, my lady.”

    “The family that sent this letter is the Kastrioti. A house currently in a difficult position.”

    “Kastrioti…?”

    The name felt strangely familiar. Familiar enough to make the Emperor tilt his head in puzzlement. But the confusion didn’t last long. He soon realized why the name Kastrioti rang a bell. The shock nearly made him jump to his feet, and he had to force himself back into his chair as his hands began to tremble.

    “Is that so. So you’re from the House of Kastrioti, of Skanderbeg.”

    “Oh my, you already knew?”

    “Of course I did.”

    The emperor, overcome with excitement, even forgot the honorifics he had maintained while speaking with Sophia.

    That was how unexpected this was. As he felt the thumping of his heart that refused to calm, the emperor began to gather his thoughts in an effort to regain his composure.

    The name Skanderbeg was merely an title given by the Ottomans. It was a name bestowed upon a boy taken to serve as a Janissary. Which meant he certainly had a given name before becoming a Janissary. And Skanderbeg’s real name was none other than Gjergj Kastrioti.

    If that very Gjergj Kastrioti was now conquering all of Albania under the name Skanderbeg, then naturally the House of Kastrioti would find itself in an awkward position.

    “Now I see why you proposed an alliance limited to your house. It seems the Kastrioti family is in quite a difficult situation even among the Albanian lords. It’s clear they can’t engage in proper cooperation.”

    At the same time, he could also guess why Skanderbeg’s campaign had been so successful. People couldn’t tell whether to interpret his attacks as actions of the Kastrioti family, or as decisions from the Ottoman court. Add to that Skanderbeg’s own capabilities, and the Albanians had no real way to respond properly.

    It was a mere assumption, but the emperor didn’t take it lightly. As he sat in awe, he let out a sigh filled with frustration and slammed his hand down on the desk before him. The first strike was weak and caused little commotion. But as he slammed it down a second, third time, veins began bulging in his hand.

    “Just how far—!”

    The disparity between the Empire and the Ottomans was hopeless. And yet the Ottomans never let down their guard. They continually worked to conceal and compensate for their weaknesses. A prime example was how, as soon as they realized the inherent disadvantage of fighting on multiple fronts, they began moving in secret.

    “Just how far are they willing to go—!”

    The matter of Skanderbeg was the same. Had Halid not passed on the information, he would have been forced to watch the situation in Albania deteriorate without even knowing what was happening. While he still didn’t have all the details, what was clear was that the Ottomans were now acting far more cunningly and meticulously than before.

    This is the competence of a prepared victor.

    Forgetting that Sophia was right in front of him, the emperor repeatedly slammed the desk before finally managing to calm himself. At times, anger can overwhelm a person’s reason.

    But there are also those who suppress that searing rage and move with cold precision. In the emperor’s eyes—having barely reclaimed his cold clarity—a steely glint now turned toward Sophia before him. Only then did he realize how he must have looked.

    He expected Sophia to respond negatively in some way.

    But she neither scowled nor looked afraid.

    With a smile in her eyes, Sophia looked up at the emperor, her lips curled into a slight smirk. And the moment the emperor met her gaze, she lifted her pale right hand to her chin and rested it there, her face full of satisfaction.

    “Even if you complain like that… in the end, you’re going to take up the challenge anyway, aren’t you?”

    The emperor gave no reply.

    Instead of an answer, he issued an imperial command.

    “Madam, I ask that you lend more attention to the affairs of the capital. In the meantime, I will use this letter as a pretext to seek contact with the Albanians.”

    “And how will you do that? You’re well aware the Ottomans are watching your every move.”

    “I’ll need to make it appear as something other than political contact. In Albania, there are both those who follow the Western Church and those who remain loyal to the Orthodox Church. If I claim to be initiating an exchange between the two churches—who have grown distant since the last war with the Latins—I may be able to avoid Ottoman eyes.”

    Having said that, the emperor recalled a suitable envoy.

    “Bishop Nicephoros should be well-suited for the task. Coincidentally, we were already looking to improve relations with the Western Church, so this could serve as an opportunity to make contact with the Papacy.”

    “Hehe… This is exactly why I like you, Your Majesty. I’ll happily follow your command.”

    “……”

    Unbothered by the emperor’s stare, Sophia rose to her feet. As she turned and left, the emperor felt a sharp headache rising. But he couldn’t afford to sit still. He had to complete the early preparations for the contact with Albania. Soon, the emperor picked up a pen and paper and began writing down his thoughts one by one.

    Even if this is an Ottoman trap, it doesn’t matter.

    The goal of this mission was to help the Albanians clearly distinguish friend from foe and unite them under a single banner. And then, to form an alliance with them. Even if the Kastrioti family was being used as bait, so long as he could join hands with the other lords, it might just become an opportunity to turn the tide.

    The emperor’s judgment was correct.

    But no matter how much one tries, the truth cannot be seen without knowing the other party’s true intentions. The emperor vowed to stay vigilant, ever wary of what the Ottomans were truly aiming for. Yet even he could not guess just how many pieces the Ottomans had already put in place.

    No one had been able to stop them—now, the Ottomans were on the move.

    A dagger that even Emperor Dragases failed to notice quietly tore through the fragile net they had barely managed to weave.

    It took less than a month for news of the first sign to arrive.

    TL : I think Vlad the Impaler is born around this time in history.

  • Star Maker Chapter 64

    It might be a biased opinion, but from Seon-ho’s perspective, none of the stages after Personal Color’s stood out much.

    Aside from A.S.A.P, which performed right before Personal Color, no team seemed particularly outstanding.

    Even Jesco, the strongest contender for the win, was just okay.

    Of course, there were teams that didn’t do well.

    Dream Girls, who were visibly nervous after watching Personal Color’s performance.

    Soul Mate, who couldn’t overcome the tension of potential elimination.

    Both teams gave especially disappointing performances and looked like they were on the verge of elimination.

    As the final stage, Black Label’s performance, neared its end, Seon-ho called out to Riha, who looked like she was about to become an earthbound spirit with how intensely she was staring at the floor.

    “Riha.”

    “Yes?”

    “Take a look at this.”

    “No matter what you show me right now, I’m going to feel deep and dark… Even if you showed me Millet’s The Gleaners, I’d feel the exhaustion of labor rather than the joy of harvest…”

    Grumbling, Riha approached Seon-ho.

    Seon-ho showed her some screenshots of online comments he had saved on his laptop.

    “Huh…?”

    After a quick glance, Riha settled in properly and snatched the laptop from Seon-ho.

    The screenshots were filled with upbeat and positive reactions to their performance.

    “Did you edit this or something? Like, only picked out the good comments?”

    “I screen-captured the whole page.”

    “Still, with Photoshop, you could have…”

    “That laptop only has MS Paint.”

    Hearing the exchange, the other members peeked over from behind the laptop, curious.

    An Jia, who slipped in between Seon-ho and Riha, exclaimed in awe.

    “Wow!”

    Teiji, who saw the screenshots a beat later, burst into laughter.

    “You’re probably the only idol doing fan service in a dialect.”

    Riha softened her usual sharp gaze and grinned awkwardly.

    Even someone who claimed not to care about comments wouldn’t dislike compliments.

    Meanwhile, the TV had started airing the five judging criteria for Idol War’s opening episode filmed last Friday.

    But the members of Personal Color were too focused on Riha’s comments to pay attention to the screen.

    It wasn’t arrogance or overconfidence about avoiding elimination.

    They had simply given it their all and shown everything they had, so there was no need to obsess over the results.

    The warm, upbeat atmosphere hit its peak when Manager Kwon Hosan spoke up.

    “Hey, kids.”

    “Yes?”

    “You all know High School in Melody, right?”

    “The drama Jia’s in? Of course we know.”

    At Baek Songyi’s reply, Manager Kwon nodded.

    “There’s a scene in episode one where the main characters watch a famous singer’s performance.”

    “Yeah?”

    “You guys are going to play those singers. Kind of like cameos.”

    The Personal Color members were startled by the news.

    They all looked at Jia, but even she hadn’t known about this cameo role.

    “Us? Why? Did Jia ask for it?”

    “No. Writer Min Heeyoung personally requested it. She watched Idol War and asked herself.”

    “Wow…!”

    High School in Melody had drawn criticism for being a parade of idols lacking acting skills, but it was also gaining a lot of attention.

    That was because many top idols were in the cast.

    So landing a cameo role in that context was a huge deal.

    “But I’ve never acted before…”

    “There’s barely any dialogue. You just have to perform on stage. The chosen song is ‘Vivid.’”

    “But wait—what about Jia? She can’t perform since she’s already in the drama, right? ‘Vivid’ needs her. Her part is crucial…”

    At Woochan’s question, Manager Kwon smiled contentedly.

    Whether intentional or not, Woochan’s comment about Jia’s role being “crucial” was very pleasing to him.

    “I spoke with the PD, and it looks like she’ll be doing double roles. It’ll be played for laughs.”

    “Oh! I think I get it. Like, drama-Jia sees Personal Color-Jia and goes, ‘That unnie is so pretty~’ or something?”

    “Exactly. More specifically, Jia says, ‘I think she kind of looks like me,’ and then the male lead shuts her down like, ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’”

    At Jung Jiwoon’s explanation, the members burst into laughter.

    Teiji raised his hand enthusiastically.

    “When’s the shoot?”

    “Next Monday.”

    “That soon?”

    “Yeah. Your scene is one of the first to be filmed.”

    Hearing that, the members all clenched their fists in determination.

    “We’ll need to practice like crazy this weekend!”

    “You’ve been practicing ‘Vivid’ regularly, right? It’s part of your concert repertoire. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing.”

    “Still! This is a broadcast drama!”

    “I’m telling my mom for sure!”

    Their dorm quickly became lively with excitement.

    In the midst of the commotion, Manager Kwon leaned in and quietly asked Seonho,

    “I got a call from Manager Woo earlier. PD Joo Min-hwan gave you a song, right?”

    “Yes. I was just about to tell you.”

    “Have you listened to it yet?”

    “No. I held off on purpose. I was worried that if I had any expectations, it might unconsciously affect the members.”

    “Smart move. Let’s all listen together, then.”

    Kwon patted Seon-ho’s shoulder and added,

    “Make the decision comfortably. I’ll handle the logistics.”

    “Understood.”

    Seon-ho nodded and asked Jia to bring the portable speaker from the room.

    Listening through a speaker would be better than directly from the laptop.

    When Jia brought the speaker over, Seon-ho spoke to the members.

    “You all know it’s time to start preparing for the third round unit mission, right?”

    “Isn’t round three the cover song mission?”

    At Teiji’s comment, Riha snapped back,

    “Intro round was the team introduction mission, first round was the song switch mission, and second round was the cover song mission. You dummy.”

    “Oh, right. The intro round. It’s kind of like a round zero, so I got confused…”

    “Why, Seon-ho oppa? Did the song come out?”

    At Jia’s question, Seon-ho nodded.

    “It’s still the guide version, but yeah. Both songs are out.”

    “So the units are set already?”

    “Yep.”

    Manager Kwon, who had been watching from the side, felt a bit puzzled.

    Seon-ho was speaking as if the songs from PD Joo Min-hwan were actually from Prefer.

    He hadn’t said explicitly who composed them, but the way he phrased things would naturally make people assume they were created by Seon-ho’s team, Prefer.

    ‘He must have his reasons.’

    As Manager Kwon thought this, Seon-ho informed Personal Color of the unit assignments:

    Unit A – Baek Songyi, Teiji.
    Unit B – Riha, Woochan, An Jia.

     

    Divide the male and female main vocals, Teiji and Riha, into Unit A and B respectively, and assign the rest of the members to backup roles.

    This kind of unit formation was the first thing Seon-ho thought of the moment he heard the phrase ‘Unit Mission.’

    It was also the most stable arrangement.

    Teiji and Baek Songyi of Unit A were a solid match based on vocals alone.

    With main vocalist Teiji at the center and Songyi handling the song’s flow and harmony, the duet could showcase the charm of a male-female combo to the fullest.

    Unit B was stable in terms of complementing each other’s individual traits.

    Until today’s broadcast, Riha had been the least popular member. However, her singing ability had always been highly rated.

    An Jia was the most popular member based on personal charm. However, aside from Prefer, there was a general opinion that it was difficult to highlight Jia’s strengths.

    Woochan was a rapper whose skills were difficult for the public to evaluate.

    However, his popularity had recently surged among female fans, making him the second most popular after Jia.

    The intention behind Unit B’s structure was simple.

    It was to balance out each other’s weaknesses and create overall stability.

    Use Jia to gather votes in place of the unpopular Riha, and let Riha’s vocals cover the singing requirements.

    As the rapper, Woochan would serve as a bridge between Riha and Jia.

    It was a very stable composition.

    And Seon-ho wasn’t the only one who thought this way.

    The Personal Color members had the same thought the moment they heard about the unit setup.

    “Let’s listen to the song first, oppa.”

    Baek Songyi said with a vague expression.

    Seon-ho nodded and played the audio file from the desktop of his laptop.

    Unit A’s song flowed out through the speakers.

    Since the male and female guide vocals had already recorded a demo, Teiji and Songyi quickly figured out their respective parts.

    “Oppa, wait a second. Is this a remake of Jung Heesun’s ‘Eternal Lyrics’?”

    Halfway through the first verse, Baek Songyi asked. Seon-ho paused the song and nodded.

    “Yeah, that’s right.”

    “Really? It’s really Jung Heesun’s song?”

    “Yeah. We got official permission for the remake.”

    “But Jung Heesun is famous for not allowing remakes…”

    Baek Songyi trailed off, then said,

    “Let’s listen to the whole thing before we talk. Please play it again.”

    “Alright.”

    The paused song resumed.

    As they listened, the members occasionally nodded or wore serious expressions.

    Unit A’s song finished playing.

    After a brief silence, Teiji spoke.

    “Hyung. Play the next one.”

    “Should we talk all at once after listening?”

    “Yes.”

    “Just so you know, the B Team’s song is also a remake of one of Jung Heesun’s tracks.”

    “Which one?”

    “‘Glasses.’”

    “Oh! ‘Glasses’ is great.”

    Jia said just as the Unit B song began to play.

    If “Eternal Lyrics” was a hidden gem by Jung Heesun, “Glasses” was a well-known classic.

    Perhaps because of that, everyone seemed to listen to it comfortably.

    Once again, the guide vocals had recorded a demo, so Riha, Woochan, and Jia could identify their own parts.

    After the full guide track finished playing, Seon-ho unplugged the speaker jack from the laptop and asked,

    “What do you all think about choosing between these two songs?”

    “I don’t like it.”

    “I like it.”

    The responses were sharply divided.

    Two people expressed dislike, while three said they liked it.

    On the surface, the opinions were split.

    But Seon-ho knew that, in truth, they weren’t.

    They were all thinking the same thing.

    That’s because the ones who said they didn’t like it were the leads — Teiji and Riha — while those who said they did like it were the supporting roles — Songyi, Jia, and Woochan.

    “Oppa, I don’t really like this song.”

    At Riha’s statement, Woochan asked,

    “Why not, Riha? It’s a good song.”

    “I know singers shouldn’t say this… but it feels like I have to step over my partner to shine. That’s why I don’t like it.”

    “Jiwoon hyung, Seon-ho hyung. I feel the same.”

    The other lead, Teiji, agreed with Riha.

    The song composed by PD Joo Min-hwan was undeniably good.

    In fact, it would have been strange if it wasn’t good.

    After all, a veteran like Joo Min-hwan had remade one of Jung Heesun’s classics — it was bound to be good.

    But a good song wasn’t necessarily a happy song.

    Joo Min-hwan’s remakes demanded complete sacrifice from the supporting members for the sake of the main vocals.

    Even Baek Songyi, a skilled singer, had to give up most of her part for Teiji.

    That’s why opinions were divided.

    The supporting members thought the song was good for Riha and Teiji, while the leads disliked the song because of how much the others had to give up.

    Their opinions differed, but in the end, their feelings were the same.

    They didn’t want to sing a song where they were happy — they wanted to sing a song where Personal Color was happy.

    Riha turned to Seon-ho and said,

    “Seon-ho oppa. You’re the one giving input and direction to Prefer, right?”

    “Yeah, that’s right.”

    “Then… I’m a little disappointed in you.”

    She continued.

    “I don’t even know why I feel this way. The song is good, and I’m proud we got permission to remake a Jung Heesun song. But I still feel disappointed. I’m sorry. I know you did your best, oppa. Maybe I was just expecting too much. I’m really sorry.”

    Riha lowered her head deeply.

    Seeing that, Baek Songyi gently patted Riha’s back and said the song was good, trying to comfort her.

    Just then, someone burst out laughing.

    “Hahaha!”

    It was Manager Kwon Hosan.

    “Ah, you sly bastard. You planned all this, didn’t you?”

    He looked at Seon-ho, who scratched his jaw awkwardly.

    “No, not at all. I really didn’t listen to the songs beforehand.”

    “Really?”

    “Yes. I swear on the sky.”

    “Hmm… I still don’t buy it…”

    Seeing the confused expressions of the Personal Color members who didn’t understand the exchange between Hosan and Seon-ho, Jung Jiwoon stepped in to explain the situation.

    After hearing the full explanation, the Personal Color members asked again,

    “So, those songs just now were both composed by PD Joo Min-hwan?”

    “Yup.”

    “Both of them?”

    “Yeah. And this guy pretended not to know the whole time.”

    “Why didn’t you tell us they were PD Joo’s songs?”

    Seon-ho, still looking awkward, replied,

    “I had some issues with PD Joo before. But song selection has to be fair. I was worried that if I showed any bias, it might affect you all, so I kept it under wraps for just a bit.”

    “Liar!”

    “I didn’t lie. I just… excluded the part of the sentence.”

    “Scammer!”

    “I can’t deny that one.”

    “Um…”

    Riha looked embarrassed.

    It felt like she had faked out a stationary defender ten times only to lose the ball in the end.

    Baek Songyi asked seriously,

    “So oppa, are you and Prefer preparing different songs? And different units too?”

    “Yeah.”

    “What are the units?”

    “The unit I came up with is…”

    At Seon-ho’s words, the five Personal Color members’ eyes widened in shock.

    “Really?!”

    “Seriously?”

    Among them, the most intense reaction came from An Jia.

    Normally calm and composed, Jia actually raised her voice this time.

    “Oppa, are you sick?!”

    Because…

    Unit A – Baek Songyi, Riha, Teiji, Woochan.

    Unit B – An Jia.

    Seon-ho had made Unit B a solo unit with just Jia.

  • The Regressed Extra Becomes a Genius Chapter 191

    “So the mystery of the base must’ve whispered something useless to you.”

    Kim Chang-hyun spoke to me with a faint smile.

    The fact that he brought up the Mystery himself suggested he had something to feel guilty about, yet his tone and behaviour were calm.

    “What did the Mystery of the Base say to you?”

    “It said it couldn’t see your roots and felt a strange sense of familiarity from you.”

    “Is that so?”

    Kim Chang-hyun returned to his expressionless face and nodded. He seemed lost in deep thought.

    I quietly observed Kim Chang-hyun.

    Kim Chang-hyun.

    Despite being ranked number one among the third years and possessing outstanding skill, he barely appeared in the original work.

    I had assumed he was just a side character whose importance naturally faded out, but that wasn’t the case.

    There was a special background to Kim Chang-hyun that wasn’t known in the original story.

    I couldn’t be sure whether this setting had newly formed or simply hadn’t been revealed before.

    But if it was a newly formed element, it wasn’t something I could ignore.

    It had a high chance of becoming a major obstacle in the future developments.

    I used Character Insight on Kim Chang-hyun.

    ━━
    Name: Kim Chang-hyun
    Age: 19
    Race: Human
    Status: Tense
    Magic Rank: A-
    Interest Level: 0
    ━━

    The status window revealed by Character Insight didn’t show anything unusual. Nineteen years old, human, magic rank A-.

    And as far as I knew, Character Insight couldn’t be fooled.

    That meant the information I saw in front of me was accurate.

    So what was his true identity?

    “Tell me. What are you really?”

    Kim Chang-hyun silently stared at me before speaking.

    “My true identity, huh…”

    He muttered to himself, then opened his mouth again.

    “Sorry, but I can’t tell you.”

    “What?”

    “No—more precisely, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t tell you. That’s the right way to put it.”

    He wanted to tell me but couldn’t?

    What did that even mean?

    Was he under some kind of restriction?

    “Why not?”

    “Because I’m not as free as you are.”

    His cryptic words made me frown.

    “What do you mean you’re not as free as I am?”

    Kim Chang-hyun shook his head.

    “Like I said earlier, I can’t tell you anything.”

    I felt a wave of confusion.

    If he didn’t want to tell me, he could’ve just said so—but saying he couldn’t was deeply frustrating.

    One thing was clear: Kim Chang-hyun was hiding something.

    As I was lost in thought—

    “…Hoo. I’m at my limit.”

    Kim Chang-hyun muttered to himself.

    Worried, I looked at him. His face was pale, like he was in pain.

    “I need to go.”

    “Where are you suddenly trying to run off to?”

    “I already told you. I’ve got nothing I can tell you.”

    “Hey!”

    Was he seriously playing around with me?

    After stirring up my curiosity, he was just going to leave?

    “Oh, and just so you know—don’t bother trying to find me. Even if you do, I still won’t be able to tell you anything.”

    With that, Kim Chang-hyun turned around.

    “…Let’s meet again later.”

    With those final words, he enhanced his body with magic and sprinted off somewhere at high speed.

    His movements were fast enough to rival those of reinforcement-type mages, not something I’d expect from a manifestation-type.

    But I wasn’t about to just let him go.

    I compressed and deployed a spell at full force and launched it at him.

    Pang!

    But a powerful barrier flared around Kim Chang-hyun’s body and blocked my attack.

    It was on a completely different level from the magic I’d seen from him so far.

    A barrier of this level wouldn’t seem out of place even for an S-rank mage.

    “……”

    I stopped in place and blankly stared at his retreating back.

    As I suspected—Kim Chang-hyun had been hiding his true strength.

    And now—

    The way he ran off was far too fast for me to catch up to.

    While I stood frozen, lost in all my questions, a message popped up before my eyes:

    [Change in the World has been detected.]

    [Causality Rate has increased by 1.5.]

    “…What?”

    Why did the causality rate increase?

    After everything with Kim Chang-hyun, I returned to the dormitory.

    It was already 1 a.m.

    So much had happened in just a single day that both my body and mind were exhausted.

    “Ungaeh.”

    Hearing the sound of the door opening, Gretel came to greet me.

    I hadn’t seen her in three days due to finals, so her welcome felt extra heart warming.

    “Did you do okay?”

    At my question, Gretel nodded.

    Judging from the pile of sausage casings in the corner by her personal trash box, she seemed to have eaten just fine while I was gone.

    And the yellow glow from the fruit on her head had grown noticeably deeper over the past three days.

    It looked like it wouldn’t be long now before the fruit was fully ripe.

    The anticipation made my mouth water, though I didn’t let it show.

    “You must be tired—go to sleep.”

    Gretel nodded again and waddled over to her little mat, where she flopped down and fell asleep.

    Watching her, I smiled faintly and pulled a can of beer from the fridge.

    Tomorrow was a day off, so this small indulgence should be fine.

    Thump.

    I sat down on the sofa and took a sip of beer.

    “…Phew.”

    The cold beer slid down my throat, and the fatigue seemed to melt away.

    But at the same time, my mind filled with unanswered questions.

    “…Kim Chang-hyun.”

    Just what is he?

    The Mystery said it couldn’t see his roots, just like me.

    Could that mean… he’s another possessor from another world, like me?

    The more I thought about it, the more my head ached.

    Another possessor in this world besides me?

    “…But that can’t be right.”

    Kim Chang-hyun may have had almost no narrative weight in the original story, but he was still a character who existed.

    If he were a possessor, wouldn’t he be someone like ‘Kim Sunwoo’—a character that didn’t exist in the original story at all?

    Of course, all of this was still just speculation.

    There’s also the possibility that someone from another world, like me, has possessed Kim Chang-hyun.

    “But then what does it mean that the Mystery felt a sense of familiarity?”

    Hmm.

    No matter how much I think about it, I can’t find an answer.

    The more I think about it, the deeper I feel like I’m sinking into a maze.

    There are several hypotheses related to the Mystery, but they’re only theories and nothing has been concluded.

    Maybe he’s a human created by the Mystery.

    Or perhaps a human infused with the Mystery’s power.

    Considering there’s even a disease called “Mystic Fever” caused by housing Mystery inside one’s body, it’s not entirely impossible.

    “…Should I try using that?”

    I activated the Outsider’s Privilege and checked the “Authority.”

    ━━
    [Authority]
    Dimensional Observation [Causality Rate 10]
    ―You can briefly observe all the dimensions and timelines you have experienced.
    ━━

    The flow of the original story is clearly changing now.

    I felt strongly that it was time to use this.

    I felt like using it would uncover one of the world’s secrets.

    I set the observation point to before the regression—specifically, the moment Lee Seo-jun died.

    “…What a waste.”

    Causality Rate 10.

    I would have to use almost all the causality points I had.

    Since it took nearly a year to gather that much, I couldn’t help but hesitate.

    “Ugh…”

    But there was no choice.

    It was time to make a bold decision.

    If I kept hoarding it and a bigger disaster happened later, I might not be able to handle it.

    I immediately activated Dimensional Observation.

    [Consumes 10 Causality Rate.]

    [Using the Authority: Dimensional Observation.]

    Uuuuuung……

    As I activated the authority, a new type of energy I had never felt before began to spread through my body and skin.

    Then, shortly after, the mana in my body started draining rapidly.

    I wasn’t surprised since I had expected that using an authority would consume mana.

    “Huh?”

    But as time passed, the rate at which my mana drained began to accelerate.

    At this rate, it was consuming more mana than using both Rune Binding and Rain of Mana at the same time.

    And then—

    “Guh!”

    As expected, the mana consumption reached a level I couldn’t handle.

    Sssssss!

    Unable to control the mana being drained from my body, my strength completely left me and I entered a state of mana exhaustion.

    [Dimensional Observation has been cancelled due to insufficient mana.]

    [The Causality Rate has been returned.]

    “…What the hell?!”

    I had steeled myself to use my authority, only for an outcome I never saw coming.

    I never imagined I’d fail just because I didn’t have enough mana.

    Judging by how fast my mana was draining, not even using Nature’s Heart and Combat Will together would have made it manageable.

    In short, Dimensional Observation isn’t usable by ordinary means.

    “Wow. This is just ridiculous.”

    Why even give me an authority like this, then?

    And what’s the point of causality if I can’t use it?

    As I sat there dumbfounded, Gretel woke up and looked at me with sleepy eyes.

    She must’ve been woken by the noise I was making alone.

    “Sorry. Go back to sleep.”

    Time passed, and Monday came.

    The first week after the final exam—the last exam of the second semester—had begun.

    Naturally, now that all the school exams were over, the atmosphere had turned into a party.

    It was like this after the first semester too, but it was even more intense now since the school year was ending.

    And after lunchtime, a bit of a stir began to spread among the students.

    “Hey, Lee Seo-jun. Is it true that Kim Chang-hyun won’t be attending the third-year graduation ceremony?”

    At Shin Young-joon’s question, Lee Seo-jun nodded.

    “Yeah, I think so. I talked to a teacher earlier during the end-of-term meeting, and I heard he’s not coming.”

    “Really? I heard he didn’t come to school today either.”

    Pretending to check my smart student planner, I eavesdropped on Lee Seo-jun’s conversation.

    Possibly because of what happened with me, Kim Chang-hyun didn’t come to school today.

    According to the rumors, it seems he won’t be showing up at all until graduation.

    “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. He’s already officially graduating, so he doesn’t really need to show up.”

    “Still, he’s the third-year representative. He should show up to maintain his image.”

    I stopped paying attention to their conversation and looked out the window.

    Students were running around on the playground, using their free time.

    A cold breeze blew through the gap in the window.

    Autumn was ending, and winter was fast approaching.

    After returning to the past and going through so many events, the school year was already nearly over.

    ‘Winter break is almost here.’

    I slowly recalled the incidents that would occur over this winter.

    Just like during the last summer vacation, several major events would unfold during this winter break.

    Two big ones came to mind right away.

    One of them was dangerous enough to risk my life.

    Just thinking about them made my vision go dark.

    No—before I even get to those, there are already too many things piling up.

    “Sigh.”

    When am I supposed to deal with all this?

    If only a day had 48 hours.

    “What’s with all the heavy sighing?”

    Just as I was feeling overwhelmed by the future ahead, Yoo Ara, surprisingly, spoke to me.

    “Just tired.”

    She gave me a side glance, then sat in the seat next to mine.

    “You got the official announcement for the Sacred Martial Festival. The school confirmed it too.”

    “Yeah?”

    The grade report hadn’t come out yet, but I wasn’t surprised. Given my performance, it would’ve been strange not to be selected.

    “And I heard you might be the top contender.”

    First place, huh?

    It actually seemed possible, depending on how things went.

    Though while I was resting from mana exhaustion at the end, Lee Seo-jun had a major performance against the bosses that awarded the most points, so I wasn’t entirely sure.

    …Wait.

    If it’s between me and Lee Seo-jun for first and second place, then—

    “Then you’re in third, right? Isn’t that a first for you?”

    “…W-what are you saying?”

    Yoo Ara was flustered and glared at me sharply.

    Then, a moment later, she glanced at me like she had something to say.

    “By the way, the spell you used during the final exam—was that based on simultaneous casting? Or was it a dispersed form?”

    Yoo Ara asked in a subtle voice.

    So that’s why she suddenly started talking to me—this was her goal.

    Though she lost in the exam, I could tell she had a strong academic drive and wanted to learn.

    “I used both. I used simultaneous casting as a base and then dispersed it into multiple forms.”

    At my answer, Yoo Ara looked genuinely surprised.

    “…Is that even possible?”

    “Yeah. It is.”

    I didn’t think it would be either, but when I used my points, it worked.

    Before I knew it, Yoo Ara had a serious expression as she sank into thought.

    She was probably mentally simulating the casting process—using simultaneous casting first, then shifting into a dispersed form.

    But a few moments later, her face drooped in frustration.

    “How did you even do that?”

    “…”

    You think that kind of thing comes easily?

    It cost me 120,000 points, for crying out loud.

    Read advance chapter on Patreon. Click here.

  • TFHITS Chapter 9

    Neril studied my face from various angles before opening her mouth.

    “You came.”

    “Of course I did. It’s an invitation from a future companion.”

    “Hmph. Kid, how old do you think I am?”

    She looked to be in her early twenties at best, but I said her true age.

    “The Witch of Carnage first appeared in the history books about 200 years ago, right?”

    “Yep. I’ve been honing magic for 200 years. Honestly, if I said I studied hard that whole time, I’d be lying… but still, time like that doesn’t just disappear.”

    “……”

    “How old are you?”

    “So this is what it’s about. You’re stronger, so you want to tell me not to act cocky?”

    Neril spoke slowly, clearly, with a completely serious expression.

    “That’s exactly it, Mide Mohan.”

    “……”

    “I quite like you.”

    “……”

    “Please don’t make me change my mind.”

    Oh.

    Just like back at the tool shop, the atmosphere began to grow heavier.

    It felt like some invisible force was pressing down on me.

    Like my body suddenly weighed twice as much.

    I slowly, carefully put some distance between us.

    “Grey said the payment would be delayed. He said he would pay up If you stick with me for seven years.”

    “And you want me to just stand by and watch Grey live happily for seven more years?”

    “I don’t particularly plan to let him live happily… but what kind of grudge do you have against him anyway? What did he do to you?”

    “That bastard killed someone I cared about.”

    Someone she cared about?

    Ah—maybe that old guy.

    It felt off to hear someone who looked barely twenty call an old man a ‘kid’, but considering her real age, it made sense.

    I said,

    “Grey told me he once tried to loot the Enerika family’s grave and ended up killing an old man..”

    “You know a lot.”

    “The Enerikas were a high noble family that got wiped out. What’s your connection to them?”

    “You don’t need to know that. What you do need to know is that old man was the last butler of the Enerika family. A paragon of loyalty, guarding the graves of a fallen house for generations over 200 years.”

    “……”

    “He had no children. His line was about to die out too. It probably would’ve ended in a few years anyway.”

    “……”

    “But that doesn’t mean some trash grave robber gets to end it with his own hands.”

    I still didn’t know what secret lay between Neril and the Enerika family.

    If I could level up my Eye of Omniscience…

    [Why are you calling it your Eye of Omniscience.]

    …I might learn more. But that was still far off.

    Then Neril spoke.

    “Hand over Grey. This is your last chance.”

    “……”

    “You said you wanted to be a Hero, right? It’s easy to say anything. Just by talking, you can say you’ll become a Hero or save the continent.”

    “……”

    “Sorry, but I don’t know you well enough yet. So rather than trust your word and wait seven years, I’m going to take Grey by force now.”

    “That’s not going to happen.”

    Right as I said that—

    Whoosh!

    I almost let out a very undignified scream.

    I instinctively dropped to one knee.

    Just a centimeter above my head, a blade of wind sliced through the air.

    Wind Cutter—Neril’s signature spell even before the regression.

    A single sweep of her hand could kill tens of thousands of monsters.

    Crack! Ssssshh.

    I heard the sound of the tree behind me being neatly cut down.

    Swish.

    Neril pointed her hand at me and said,

    “The Sword master of No Killing never accepts assassination requests, right? To think someone with such a dumb rule could become an S-rank mercenary. Impressive. But it won’t work on me.”

    “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

    “Let’s find out, kid.”

    Fwoooosh.

    The surroundings went up in flames.

    It was supposed to be early winter, but it felt like the peak of summer at noon.

    I ran, carefully stepping only in the places where Neril’s fire didn’t reach.

    Been a while since I moved like this. Tough work.

    ‘I never had a serious fight with a party member before, so I didn’t realize… but she’s no joke.’

    [Think you can win?]

    ‘If I were trying to kill her, maybe.’

    [But you’re not.]

    ‘Exactly the problem. I didn’t expect Neril to be this strong. So the Demon King of Lies withstood magic like that with his whole body…’

    Now that I was the one being targeted, I could finally understand just how strong the Demon King really was.

    He even had the leisure to fake his death as a ‘prank.’

    Even if I become a Hero, could I really kill that guy?

    [Side!]

    ‘Kgh—!’

    Splat!

    Blood spurted from my side.

    I quickly pressed my palm to it and jumped backward.

    After retreating more than twenty steps, I applied a high-grade potion I had bought from the guild to my wound.

    “That’s an amazing potion. Must’ve been pricey.”

    “Pay me back later.”

    “You’re the one who used it. Why should I pay?”

    “Isn’t that what having a companion means? What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is mine.”

    “I get that you’re stalling for time, but I’ll play along. I do want to talk a little more with you.”

    Neril folded her arms.

    “I’ve lived a long time, but I’ve never met someone like you. If you were born with that kind of talent, I suppose it’s natural to think, ‘Why not become a Hero?’”

    “……”

    “But Heroes, and the heroes who walk with them, are on a whole different level from us. You’ve read history books, right? The kind of people who split mountains and summon tidal waves with a single swing of a sword.”

    “That’s exaggerated.”

    I’ve seen it with my own eyes, so I know.

    Neril let out a small laugh.

    “How can you be so sure?”

    “I think someone like you is already at the hero level. If it weren’t for me, you might’ve had a shot at being the Hero yourself. Shame.”

    “Only someone whose skills back it up can speak that confidently. It’s nice. That self-assurance.”

    “……”

    “But if what you say is true, doesn’t that mean you’re not the Hero? You’re getting beaten by someone like me, just a mere hero-class fighter.”

    Looks like I really will have to beat her.

    Guess I’ve got no choice. Should I use that technique?

    Trail butted in.

    [If you had one, you should’ve used it already.]

    ‘It’s been a while, so I couldn’t quite get the timing right.’

    [Sigh. What’s the skill called? Got a name for it?]

    Of course.

    ‘Running Fast.’

    […]

    ‘What?’

    [Even the name is pathetic. I should’ve known when you said something about “invisibility” earlier.]

    ‘It’s not like I’m going to shout the name during a fight. Who cares what it’s called? And I spent two whole days thinking it up, too.’

    [You absolute—!]

    He seemed like he was about to start cursing again, so I lost interest.

    Instead, I began focusing strength into my legs.

    Creak. Crack.

    I could feel my muscles twitching beneath my clothes.

    Veins rose to the surface, and a slight tremor passed through me.

    “Planning something, are you?”

    Neril quickly picked up on the change and uncrossed her arms.

    She swiftly began forming a series of hand signs.

    I knew those gestures well.

    It had to be earth magic.

    Ta-at!

    Dozens of muddy arms burst from the ground around me.

    But before they could grab me, I pushed off the earth and jumped upward.

    “Huh?”

    Whoosh. Tap.

    I twisted in midair and adjusted my posture.

    Then I drew my sheath downward and used it as a foothold.

    Good. I can use it.

    “Hmph.”

    Neril began preparing the largest spell she’d cast so far.

    But from the moment she chose to prepare it now, she was already too late.

    ‘Quick Leap!’

    [Oh, for crying out loud.]

    Taaat!

    Before she could complete the final hand sign, I was already five steps away from her.

    I could see her pupils dilating in real time.

    Frantically, she slapped the back of her right hand with her left.

    I knew that move too.

    A low-tier Lightning Bolt.

    Of course, even though it was low-tier, if the caster was the Witch of Carnage, a normal person would be roasted instantly without even a chance to scream.

    ‘What do I do?’

    In a split second—less than 0.1 seconds—I ran through countless thoughts.

    Before the spell fully activated, I could undoubtedly plunge my dagger into her heart. I was confident in that.

    But if I did that—

    “Damn it.”

    I subtly shifted the dagger’s trajectory downward.

    Because of that, her spell was able to activate in time.

    Thunk. Crackle!

    My dagger plunged deep into Neril’s abdomen.

    And her magic slammed into my back.

    “Guhk!”

    “Nnngh.”

    Something smelled like cooking meat.

    I lifted my head slightly to look up at Neril.

    Her eyes were trembling more violently than ever before.

    “Why? Why did you change your aim?”

    “……”

    “You were aiming for my heart. You could’ve killed me before I cast my spell.”

    “Instead of saying that… focus on healing. That stab went in deep—it’s gonna hurt.”

    She bled as she gave a wry smile.

    “Worry about yourself. Your back’s practically skinned raw.”

    “I’m in better shape than you.”

    “Doesn’t look like it.”

    Every time we opened our mouths, acrid smoke wafted up.

    “Surrender, Neril.”

    “…Idiot. I won. I could still kill you right now.”

    “Surrender.”

    “You would’ve won, you know. If you’d just stabbed me in the heart.”

    “Ugh, save it for later. Honestly, I’m in agony too, so just surrender already.”

    “……”

    Come on.

    I may not look it, but I’m really on edge right now, lady.

    If you keep stalling, even my expensive potions won’t be enough.

    Thump-thump.

    My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

    After what felt like an eternity, Neril finally opened her mouth.

    “…I lost.”

    “Then we’re working together for seven years, right?”

    “……”

    “Don’t go changing your mind now.”

    With a sigh, Neril asked,

    “Are you really going to just leave Grey alone? Seven years is a long time. He’ll disappear from the continent in that span.”

    “I’ve got a plan for that.”

    “Hmph. A plan, sure.”

    “I mean it. If you don’t believe me, just give it a few days.”

    “Huh?”

    I grinned and spoke.

    “As a celebration of our partnership, I’ve got a gift for you.”

    A few days later.

    Thanks to using all the high-grade potions I’d been saving for near-death situations, both Neril and I were fully healed.

    It cost me a fortune, but that wasn’t a problem—Neril covered the entire bill.

    “You sure you want to pay for all of it? I should at least cover half.”

    “It’s fine. More importantly, why are we back here again?”

    We were standing in front of Grey’s tool shop.

    “I told you. I’m giving you a gift to mark our partnership.”

    “……”

    “Let’s go in.”

    Grey was still squirming on the basement floor like a worm.

    I’d given him drinks occasionally while staying here, but he hadn’t had a proper meal in about a week.

    He was soaking his feet in the Redvi River—a stream said to flow straight into hell.

    I removed Grey’s gag.

    “H-huh. W-water, please…”

    “Here.”

    I poured water from a canteen, just like before.

    I could feel Neril glaring at me disapprovingly from behind.

    Grey chugged the water down and looked up at me.

    “I… I can’t feel my arms.”

    “……”

    “Even a high priest wouldn’t be able to fix them now. My arms… huuuhuhuuu…”

    “Don’t cry.”

    “Waaaah!”

    “Want to finish crying in hell instead?”

    “No! I’m sorry.”

    He stopped the tears instantly, as if flipping a switch.

    I grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up.

    “You’ve still got enough strength to walk, right? Even if you don’t, squeeze it out. We’re going somewhere.”

    “N-not hell, please.”

    “Hell? No. We’re going somewhere—together.”

    I leaned in and whispered in his ear.

    “You’re going to hell later, alone.”

    He shuddered violently.

    Thump.

    I gave him a light push on the back, and Grey stumbled forward.

    I grabbed the rope binding him like a leash and walked with him.

    Neril followed behind me and asked,

    “Where are you taking him?”

    “You were worried, weren’t you? Said you couldn’t stand the thought of Grey enjoying himself for the next seven years. Or what if he vanished in that time?”

    “So?”

    I continued in a casual tone,

    “I’m handing him over to a place where he’ll never be happy, and never be able to hide.”

  • A Veteran Player Becomes a Troublemaker Chapter 96

    “You’re saying Lord Ian is buying large quantities of a weed called Levior?”

    “Yes. His warehouses are already full, and he’s even building additional ones to store more.”

    News of Ian’s eccentric behaviour had reached Duke Endran.

    “Does the Adoran Merchant Group know why?”

    “They claim they don’t. Even the master of the company is following Lord Ian’s orders, but he seems deeply troubled by it.”

    Of course, if even he couldn’t figure out Ian’s reasoning, how could they?

    “Does Levior have some beneficial property?”

    “Not that we know of. The only thing we’ve confirmed is that Lord Ian has been teaching his household how to cook with it.”

    “And people actually eat it?”

    “Yes, apparently there’s a method. But according to those who’ve tried it, the taste is so revolting that it’s practically inedible. Because of this, rumors have spread that Lord Ian enjoys bizarre cuisine.”

    Duke Endran fell into thought.

    ‘If he were just indulging in strange tastes, he wouldn’t need to stockpile such massive quantities.’

    No single person would require that much.

    Filling warehouses to the brim—even building more—was beyond rational explanation.

    Reports of Ian’s eccentricities had been circulating for some time now.

    Though their last meeting had left him somewhat disappointed, Ian’s actions always had a clear purpose.

    Whether it was his fervent push for uncharted territory exploration (despite uncertain success) or his absurdly efficient weapon production (which greatly aided in territorial wars), everything Ian did was meticulously prepared.

    ‘Is this another one of his preparations?’

    The duke crossed his arms, deep in thought.

    But no matter how much he pondered, he couldn’t grasp why Ian was hoarding Levior.

    Still, he had a strong feeling that Ian was planning something.

    “Father.”

    Before the report had arrived, Viola, who had been sipping tea with him, spoke up.

    “Yes, what is it?”

    “What if we also gather this Levior weed? Looking back, Lord Ian has always acted with purpose. No matter how I think about it, this seems no different.”

    She shared his suspicions.

    But honestly, he couldn’t shake a slight unease.

    After all, it was just a weed.

    Did they really need to stockpile it in warehouses?

    ‘But if even Viola thinks this way…’

    Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try.

    Viola’s instincts were rarely wrong.

    “Very well. Let’s do that. We’ll soon find out what he’s scheming. Advisor, gather as much Levior as possible and store it in our warehouses.”

    “Yes, Your Grace.”

    Most farmers had likely already uprooted and burned it before planting season, so supplies would be limited.

    But it was a common roadside weed.

    ‘If it comes to nothing, we can always sell it all to Schrantz for some petty war funds.’

    At worst, they could offload it to the trading company or use it as insect repellent for soldiers during summer.

    For the duke, the looming civil war mattered far more than this oddity.

    The key point was—there was little to lose.

    “Your Grace!”

    A soldier rushed in urgently, bearing the insignia of a frontline messenger.

    “What is it?”

    “Great news! The Third Prince and the imperial family have safely arrived in our territory!”

    The duke’s face lit up instantly.

    “Which members of the imperial family are present?”

    “Her Majesty the Empress, the imperial princesses, and even His Majesty the Emperor—all have arrived!”

    “Excellent!”

    Duke Endran was overjoyed.

    He hadn’t dared hope they could retrieve every member of the imperial family unscathed.

    At worst, he had expected to abandon the empress and princesses—securing only the Third Prince and the Emperor.

    Years of preparation had paid off.

    “Advisor, make immediate arrangements for His Majesty, the Empress, and the princesses to rest comfortably.”

    “Yes, Your Grace.”

    “Quickly.”

    As the advisor hurried off, the duke couldn’t suppress his smile—everything was falling into place.

    “Your Grace, there is one more matter to report.”

    “What is it?”

    The messenger hesitated slightly.

    Though the duke was in high spirits, the next news was far from pleasant.

    “This… is less favorable.”

    “Speak.”

    The messenger braced himself, certain his words would sour the duke’s mood.

    But duty demanded he continue.

    “The House of Eaton has begun mobilizing. Signs of invasion have been spotted across multiple fronts.”

    “Is that so?”

    Contrary to expectations, the duke showed no irritation.

    In fact, his expression didn’t change at all.

    He had anticipated this.

    ‘They’re no fools. They would’ve realized the imperial family had fled to my lands.’

    Though the extraction had been successful, the disappearance of the entire imperial family (except the Second Prince) was impossible to hide.

    Everyone would deduce that the Third Prince had taken them somewhere—and tracking would inevitably lead here.

    For the Second Prince, this was a slap in the face.

    The imperial family siding with Duke Endran was the same as to outright rejecting his claim.

    “Prepare for war. We will crush the rebels.”

    With both legitimacy and righteousness on his side, the duke no longer had reason to hesitate.

    They were the ones drawing blades against the imperial-backed faction.

    At last, the grand design he had longed for was complete.

    Thud! Crack!

    “Ughhh~!”

    Ian stretched his arms upward and his legs downward while still seated, letting out a satisfying groan.

    He’d been sitting for so long that the sound of his joints popping echoed around the room.

    Not satisfied with just that, he stood up and shook out his limbs, loosening his stiff muscles.

    “Phew, finally done. What kind of work takes months to finish?”

    Ian had been forced to take over the duties of corrupt officials who’d been arrested.

    With so many administrators detained, the workload had piled up to the point where even he had to step in.

    At first, the sheer volume of tasks gave him a headache, but time eventually sorted things out.

    By actively recruiting literate locals and receiving dispatched officials from Rosen, he managed to ease the burden.

    Of course, most of the existing officials were undergoing rehabilitation programs, so he still had to put effort into training the new hires.

    But thanks to that time and effort, the new recruits gradually became more skilled and quickly adapted to their roles.

    Now that they were fully handling their duties, work was finally flowing smoothly.

    And today, at last, he’d managed to wrap up the backlog.

    “Now, what’s left…?”

    Ian turned his gaze and reached out.

    His eyes landed on a few documents set aside on the corner of his desk.

    They were reports on events outside the Schrantz County borders—intelligence gathered by diligent agents.

    Even while buried in work, he’d made sure to keep up with the civil war’s progress.

    Picking up the reports, Ian read through them slowly, like flipping through a newspaper.

    “So the Duke of Endran and the Duke of Eaton are still in a stalemate?”

    The two great houses had finally clashed.

    A massive battle involving a combined force of 10,000 soldiers had resulted in heavy casualties, leaving the Duke of Eaton’s forces too battered to advance further.

    But the Duke of Endran didn’t have the strength to counterattack either—his losses were far from negligible.

    The Duke of Eaton, desperate to reclaim the imperial family, had launched a full-scale offensive from the start, leading to a larger battle than anticipated.

    While the northern front had settled into a stalemate due to heavy losses, the western and southern regions saw multiple skirmishes daily.

    “The west and south are just getting started.”

    The false peace had shattered as the empire’s two most powerful houses collided, igniting the nation in flames.

    The empire was now split between the Second Prince in the southeast and the Third Prince in the northwest.

    The densely populated western and southern regions would inevitably bear the brunt of the casualties.

    Already, each region had suffered tens of thousands of losses—enough said.

    “By the time this war ends, combat casualties alone will exceed 30,000.”

    And that was just the west and south.

    Across the entire empire, the toll would likely reach 40,000 to 50,000.

    Over half of the civil war’s deaths would come from those fronts.

    But Ian wasn’t particularly concerned.

    Had the battles been raging in Schrantz, he’d have been alarmed—but the fiercest fighting was happening far away.

    Months away by carriage, in fact.

    To him, it was just news from someone else’s backyard.

    Of course, the war’s effects had inevitably reached Schrantz, whether he liked it or not.

    Flipping the page, Ian muttered,

    “Deserters turning into bandits and drifting into our territory again. They reached Nase, but it looks like they were dealt with.”

    Still, he wasn’t worried.

    He’d prepared for this exact scenario before moving here.

    In fact, the veteran soldiers from Nase—who’d gained real combat experience during the undead outbreak—had proven invaluable.

    Nase, once considered Schrantz’s weak link, was no longer the same ragtag militia it used to be.

    It was now a gathering of seasoned fighters who could hold their own.

    “Even if I hadn’t prepared, Father and Hubert would’ve had their own contingencies.”

    Hugo and Hubert had put their heads together in Rosen, making their own preparations.

    As long as things proceeded according to plan, Ian didn’t need to intervene deeply—they’d handle the rest.

    “Ah, so convenient! Normally, this would’ve been a headache.”

    Had he been the heir or lord, he’d have had to manage everything himself.

    The one benefit of the original Ian being a troublemaker was that he’d been pushed out of the succession—sparing him the bureaucratic nightmares.

    Of course, that same reputation had made his early days hell, but still.

    Right now, he was reaping the rewards.

    “It’s about time things start moving…”

    While relieved to see events unfolding as he’d expected, Ian was waiting for one particular piece of news.

    Knock knock.

    Someone knocked on the office door.

    “Who is it?”

    “It’s me. May I come in?”

    “Enter.”

    Recognizing Nea’s voice, Ian immediately granted permission.

    She stepped inside, quietly closing the door before approaching him.

    Despite her work as a personal maid, her hands remained delicate—and in them, she held a single sheet of paper.

    “What is it?”

    “News has arrived from the western and southern fronts.”

    Ian’s eyes gleamed.

    He already knew, instinctively, what this was about.

    “Nea. I have a job for you. Let’s spread a rumor.”

    “A rumor? What kind?”

    “That there’s a plant—disgusting in taste, but usable as emergency food.”

    Ian grinned.