Chapter 7

[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 came 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 immediately ruled out.

The process was complicated, and it took the longest time to see any actual income.

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 income.

‘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, named 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 something. 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 department had brought in the most income?

His mouth answered the question his mind had posed.

“The potion manufacturing department.”

This was the department 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 seemed 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 home; suspected involvement 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 merchants and travelers.

Scanning through the various headlines, Oscar’s eyes locked onto one line.

‘...A lockdown order?’

Unless it was a wartime situation, it was rare for a lord to restrict movement 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 treatment for this flu.

It sold in staggering quantities each outbreak cycle, drawing immense envy from the Blue Tower.

‘If it’s still incurable, that means 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 treatment 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 seemed about time 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 skimmed over this article without much thought, but now, it seemed entirely different.

* * *

Hamel Grimwiz, Deputy Head of the White Tower, treasured this time of day most of all: a quiet time to drink tea he brewed himself and read a book.

Unfortunately, today, he had visitors, and two of them at that.

“This time, I can’t just overlook it. Embezzlement is a serious crime.”

“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 confinement 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, Hamel finally spoke.

“From what I’ve heard, both of you make valid points.”

At that, both of them nodded in agreement.

“Of course, Deputy Tower Master, you see it too!”

“However, locking him up for confinement 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 agreement, Hamel 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 punishment 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 time 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 equipment 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 equipment 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. Some 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 members 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. Someone 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 time 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 merely a stubborn obsession for a future that might never come?

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 moment before saying,

"Come 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 me…? Oh, regarding the disciplinary issue, I assume."

As usual, he was quick on the uptake, making him easy to talk to—though it also meant being careful with words.

"That’s correct. Were you looking for me about that matter too?"

"No. I actually came with a proposal."

"A…proposal?"

The Vice Tower Master’s expression turned curious.

He had come to make a proposal, not a request or plea, and this was someone 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 comments 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 moment 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 treatment and vaccine for it."

The three of them all looked at him in unison.

"A treatment? You mean for the Cadena Flu?"

"Yes. I intend to recreate the treatment 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 treatment 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 treatment… And you, a mere 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 me…"

His lips curled in a gentle grin.

The only weapon he had in this frail, young body after waking up after twenty years was meant precisely for moments like this.

"I am a genius."

[Translator - Clara]

[Proofreader - Gun]