[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 7: The Most Necessary Thing (3)
Oscar returned to his room and casually sat on the sofa.
‘Money… money, huh. How do you even make that?’
Thinking back, three main ways ca to mind for how a wizard could earn money: research, lectures, and requests.
‘First, research, which involves publishing results and earning rewards and royalties…’
This option was imdiately ruled out.
The process was complicated, and it took the longest ti to see any actual inco.
Plus, since the whole reason he was looking to make money was the poverty of the White Tower, it would be pointless to depend on the tower for inco.
‘The second is giving lectures.’
But this was also unfeasible right now.
Who in their right mind would pay to listen to a lecture from a level 2 wizard?
‘So that leaves doing requests.’
Even with that, lucrative, nad requests were out of the question.
All he could realistically do was take on minor requests coming into the White Tower.
‘Like finding a lost cat or sothing. But jobs like that only bring in pocket change.’
With a grand goal to revive the White Tower’s finances, he needed a profitable business that could generate real money.
‘A business, huh.’
Oscar decided to think not from his personal perspective but from the White Tower’s perspective.
In the past, which departnt had brought in the most inco?
His mouth answered the question his mind had posed.
“The potion manufacturing departnt.”
This was the departnt that once served as the White Tower’s cash cow.
Nowadays, the Blue Tower had taken over that role, but in the past, the White Tower had practically monopolized the potion market.
‘It’s obvious why we lost out.’
The demon invasion twenty years ago had burned all their potion recipes.
Fortunately, though, all those recipes were still stored in Oscar’s mind.
‘If that’s the case, let’s start with the potion business.’
After all, nothing else seed as low-risk with a guaranteed return.
The problem was deciding what potion to make.
‘The ideal would be to produce a variety of potions and flood the market all at once…’
But with the White Tower’s current financial state, that was a pipe dream.
He needed to focus on just one, foolproof potion.
‘What potion might there be that the Blue Tower hasn’t been able to make a substitute for in the last twenty years?’
Oscar grabbed a stack of newspapers piled on his desk.
If there was any hint to be found, it would be in this trove of information.
- The rising power struggle between the Black Tower and the Blood Tower to join the ranks of the Four Great Towers.
- Archbishop Baldwin of the El Terra Order changes plans unexpectedly during a pilgrimage in the Sirin estate; expected to conduct blessing prayers for up to a month.
- Baran Free City’s mayor found dead at ho; suspected involvent of the criminal gang ‘Purple Brigade.’
- Another setback for the White Tower? Sirin, once the continent’s largest herb cultivation site, loses its prestige.
- Baron Vince issues sudden lockdown order for his estate, sparking complaints from rchants and travelers.
Scanning through the various headlines, Oscar’s eyes locked onto one line.
‘...A lockdown order?’
Unless it was a warti situation, it was rare for a lord to restrict movent through an estate.
Intrigued, Oscar read the article in detail.
[Baron Vince suddenly issued a lockdown order for his estate. Rumors suggest it may be connected to the outbreak of a large-scale flu in Vince a few days ago. If true, it could be the ‘Cadena Flu,’ a deadly strain that has no cure and spreads in cycles every few decades. The last outbreak was 27 years ago…]
“Aha!”
Oscar let out a gasp.
‘That’s right, the Cadena Flu.’
Twenty years ago, the White Tower had been the only one able to produce a treatnt for this flu.
It sold in staggering quantities each outbreak cycle, drawing imnse envy from the Blue Tower.
‘If it’s still incurable, that ans the Blue Tower hasn’t figured it out either…’
Oscar stroked his chin, deep in thought.
‘Then again, if the flu in Vince’s estate isn’t the Cadena Flu, it would be a wasted effort.’
According to the article, the Cadena Flu was a unique virus that appeared in cycles of several decades.
If he started manufacturing the treatnt and it turned out not to be Cadena Flu…
‘Then I’d have to sit around twiddling my thumbs, hoping for an outbreak.’
Realistically, with the last outbreak being 27 years ago, it seed about ti for another one.
However, there had been instances where it only appeared after 40 years, so it was risky to be too certain.
‘Even without complete certainty, it’s a risk worth taking if there’s a minimum basis…’
As he furrowed his brow and reread the newspaper, Oscar paused.
[Archbishop Baldwin of the El Terra Order changes plans unexpectedly during a pilgrimage in the Sirin estate; expected to conduct blessing prayers for up to a month.]
Initially, he had skimd over this article without much thought, but now, it seed entirely different.
* * *
Hal Grimwiz, Deputy Head of the White Tower, treasured this ti of day most of all: a quiet ti to drink tea he brewed himself and read a book.
Unfortunately, today, he had visitors, and two of them at that.
“This ti, I can’t just overlook it. Embezzlent is a serious cri.”
“Yes, I agree that was certainly wrong. But hasn’t he been reflecting on his actions?”
“So you’re just going to let it go? Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘He who steals a needle will one day steal a cow’?”
“No need to worry. Our tower may have needles, but there are no cows here.”
“Enough with the wordplay! Just lock him in the seclusion chamber!”
“No. Besides, what’s the point of confinent training for a level 1 wizard?”
“Sigh…”
The fact that these elders were about to hit fifty soon made their quarrel all the more surreal.
Listening with a detached expression, Hal finally spoke.
“From what I’ve heard, both of you make valid points.”
At that, both of them nodded in agreent.
“Of course, Deputy Tower Master, you see it too!”
“However, locking him up for confinent training seems excessive. For him, it would amount to nothing but pointless torture.”
“Ugh…”
“On the other hand, doing nothing would set a bad precedent.”
“Yes, I admit that as well.”
Having received their agreent, Hal delivered his verdict.
“I’ll sentence Oscar to repay triple the research funds he used for personal purposes.”
“Only triple…”
Although Fidelina pouted slightly, she didn’t offer strong resistance.
Even that much was an enormous punishnt for a Level 1 mage.
"Then, let’s move on to the next agenda item. Elder Fidelina?"
With the Vice Tower Master's gaze upon her, Fidelina sighed deeply.
"…The tower has no money left. I think it's ti to make a decision."
"Hmm."
The Vice Tower Master, imagining what decision she was referring to, groaned.
Fidelina pushed her point more forcefully.
"Half the facilities here are unused anyway. If we just sell the equipnt in the potion lab, we could cover three months of living expenses."
"…."
It was an idea she had been insisting on for several months.
Sell off the equipnt in facilities that were, to be exact, unused due to lack of personnel.
"Vice Tower Master, if we keep going like this, we’ll really go under. Starting next month, we won’t even have the budget to fund the mages working outside. So of us need to survive."
"…."
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
The Vice Tower Master, who was silently fiddling with his teacup, shook his head after a long pause of deep thought.
"I cannot permit it."
"Vice Tower Master!"
"I understand how Elder Fidelina feels. I know that the one who feels the saddest seeing the starving mbers is the person managing the money."
Although her personality was rough and her words sharp, she was tender-hearted.
He sympathized with her too, forced to write "Denied" with a torn heart on every request for funding.
"But this is the Tower."
A place where mages gather to explore magic, where knowledge is shared to blossom new truths—that is the Tower.
"A closed room never lets in a fresh breeze. We can’t sell off our future to satisfy today’s hunger."
"…Does the future even exist?"
"Fidelina! Watch your words!"
"Stay out of this. Soone needs to say it."
Fidelina bit her lip and looked around.
"That future, haven't we already waited 20 years for it?"
She shrugged her shoulders and looked around.
"So why is it that I still don’t see it?"
"…."
"Vice Tower Master. It’s ti to acknowledge it. Even if such a genius exists… they’re not coming to our Tower."
"…."
A heavy silence settled over the room like mist.
The Vice Tower Master, with his head down, gazed at his sunken eyes reflected in the teacup.
"…Is that so?"
Was what he had been chasing rely a stubborn obsession for a future that might never co?
He was just about to speak with a deep sigh when—
Knock, knock.
Two polite knocks captured their attention.
The Vice Tower Master looked at the two of them for a mont before saying,
"Co in."
The person who entered was an unexpected figure.
He glanced at the three of them and gave a small bow.
"Hello."
"Oscar. We were just discussing you."
"About …? Oh, regarding the disciplinary issue, I assu."
As usual, he was quick on the uptake, making him easy to talk to—though it also ant being careful with words.
"That’s correct. Were you looking for about that matter too?"
"No. I actually ca with a proposal."
"A…proposal?"
The Vice Tower Master’s expression turned curious.
He had co to make a proposal, not a request or plea, and this was soone who’d recently caused a major incident and was awaiting discipline.
The Vice Tower Master’s curiosity piqued.
"Alright, let’s hear it. What kind of proposal is it?"
"I understand that the Tower’s financial situation isn’t very good."
"Even knowing that, he embezzled funds."
Behind him, Elder Fidelina grumbled.
The Vice Tower Master signaled her to hold her comnts and turned back.
"I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I can’t deny it. What is it you want to say?"
"I’d like to start a business."
"A business…? Are you suggesting this because you need funding?"
"Yes, I need money."
At his nod, Elder Fidelina burst into laughter.
"Haha! The nerve! Vice Tower Master, you’re not seriously considering this, are you?"
"Hmm."
"Are you…actually considering it? This boy embezzled research funds. And just a few days ago!"
"I’m aware. But conversely, don’t you think he must have a reason to be so bold, even in such a situation?"
"You're exactly right."
Oscar sensed it was the perfect mont to reveal his business idea.
He pulled out a newspaper from his pocket and spread it on the table.
"According to this article, there’s been a severe flu outbreak in the Vinse region, to the point where the area has been quarantined."
"…I saw that too. People suspect it might be the Cadena Flu."
"Yes. To put it bluntly, I’d like to produce and sell a treatnt and vaccine for it."
The three of them all looked at him in unison.
"A treatnt? You an for the Cadena Flu?"
"Yes. I intend to recreate the treatnt that the Tower used to have exclusive rights to."
"This isn’t even worth entertaining."
Elder Fidelina scoffed coldly.
"As we all know, the formula for that treatnt was lost twenty years ago. Since then, countless towers and pharmaceutical companies have tried to reproduce it, all to no avail."
Her sharp eyes glared at him.
"Even those with vast resources and high-ranking mages failed to create the treatnt… And you, a re twenty-year-old kid, think you can?"
"…."
Faced with her reasonable skepticism, Oscar slowly nodded.
"I completely agree with everything you’ve said. It’s true that other factions have failed, and it’s true that I am only a twenty-year-old."
Then, with a soft smile, he continued.
"But, as much as it may sound arrogant coming from …"
His lips curled in a gentle grin.
The only weapon he had in this frail, young body after waking up after twenty years was ant precisely for monts like this.
"I am a genius."
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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