The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
Chapter 12: It’s Not Over Yet (4)
"...So this is what they mean by living long enough to see everything."
Fran (20, male) muttered with a wry smile as he looked at the scene in front of him.
It was because the alchemy lab, which had been practically empty for decades, was now packed with people.
It wasn't an exaggeration to say that all the idle mages at the Magic Tower had gathered here, and the reason they gathered was nothing short of amusing.
“I heard you get meat dishes if you work here, is that true?”
“There’s no way the Elder would lie about something like that.”
“Rumor has it, it’s pork, not even chicken.”
“Gulp... That’s insane.”
It had been a year since the dining hall at the Tower served only beans and canned soup.
These mages had turned into beings who would do any odd job if it meant a chance at a meat dish.
“But I am a little concerned.”
Fran murmured while rubbing his chin, and Oscar glanced over at him.
“Concerned about what?”
“I know you must have a reason for selecting them... but I feel like time is going to be tight.”
“Time? What do you mean?”
“Think about it. Just teaching them dual casting alone could take days.”
Oscar looked at him as if he’d said something incredibly dense.
“Are you an idiot? We don’t even have enough time to make the cure; when do you think we’ll teach them all that?”
“...But dual casting is essential for making the cure, isn’t it?”
“Says who?”
Even in the old days at the White Tower, most mages couldn’t use dual casting, yet they’d never fallen behind in potion production.
“You really are a classic mage. Always thinking everything has to be done alone. That’s exactly the biggest issue with mages.”
The reason humanity had become the dominant species, pushing aside countless predators across the continent, was precisely the opposite of that mentality.
It was their ability to band together in the face of hardship.
That was humanity’s scariest trait.
“If we split them into pairs, they won’t need to use dual casting at all.”
“...Huh? You’re right! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“It’s a typical mage thing.”
Oscar shrugged and immediately climbed onto the platform and called out loudly.
“Alright, seniors, eyes over here!”
Some mages turned to look, but most were still busy talking among themselves.
Fran whispered in a low voice from the back.
“Want me to bring a magic amplifier?”
“No need. mages never listen when you ask nicely anyway.”
Oscar shook his head and snapped his fingers. Instantly, he cast 『Sound Binding』.
The cacophony of conversations from dozens of mages merged into a single, powerful white noise.
—Bzzzzzzz!
“Argh!”
“What the... what’s going on?”
The mages winced, covering their ears against the piercing noise, and their eyes naturally shifted to the platform where the sound originated.
“...Now that’s more like it.”
Oscar, looking pleased, started to speak as he took in the mages’ disgruntled faces.
“Everyone, pay attention. The reason you’ve all been gathered here today is to create a cure for the Cadena Flu.”
“The Cadena Flu cure?”
“What is he talking about all of a sudden?”
“Was that why we were called to the alchemy lab?”
They exchanged confused looks as if they hadn’t been told anything beforehand.
“It’s not a difficult task. Just follow my instructions.”
“Hmm... I don’t know.”
“Can mere mortals like us really follow the steps of a genius like you?”
What was going on here?
All the responses were unfriendly and even antagonistic.
Oscar, slightly taken aback, glanced back and whispered.
“Hey, Fran. Do they hate me or something?”
“Yep, pretty much nobody here likes you.”
Oscar looked baffled, so Fran explained the cold truth.
“Because you’re arrogant, rude, you waste the Tower’s budget without restraint, don’t do any real research, and just drink all the time. Rumor has it that you’re the reason the Tower’s cafeteria only serves beans and canned soup.”
Considering all that, it made sense he’d be disliked.
At that moment, Oscar suddenly looked at Fran curiously.
“Then why don’t you hate me?”
“I like canned soup. It has that cheap taste that’s kind of fun.”
This guy wasn’t normal either.
Oscar laughed dryly and then looked at the 38 mages glaring at him.
‘If the Deputy Tower Master had just said a few words to them, this situation wouldn’t have happened...’
From his previous Tower Master’s perspective, he was likely doing this on purpose to see if Oscar had the social skills and tolerance needed for his role.
It was essential information for a superior managing an eccentric genius.
‘Well, I would’ve done something similar.’
After gathering his thoughts, Oscar spoke up.
“Even Fran here succeeded in making it, so there’s no need to worry too much.”
“...I’m Lena White, a 5th-level mage. Can I ask a few questions?”
A woman in her late twenties with a rather cold gaze raised her hand.
Oscar nodded.
“Go ahead.”
“To my knowledge, the White Tower lost all potion recipes 20 years ago. Where did the formula for the Cadena Flu cure suddenly come from?”
“I restored it.”
There was a murmur among the mages.
“...Looks like that fat oaf did more than just waste funds.”
“What are you talking about? With all that funding, he should’ve made this progress a long time ago.”
“Hmph. He boasts about being a genius, but he’s finally earning his keep.”
Amidst the mixed responses, Lena asked another question.
“Has the efficacy of the cure been proven?”
“We’ve already tested it on patients in Vins Territory, where the Cadena Flu spread. The results were confirmed by the Archbishop of the El Terra Church, with whom we have an exclusive contract, and it’s even patented by the royal family.”
The murmurs grew louder.
"If it's reliable enough to warrant an exclusive contract with the Church, which is known for being so particular..."
"Besides, there's no reason to doubt its effectiveness once the royal family has granted a patent."
Just as the mages’ hostility began to ease with the continued good news, Lena posed an unexpected question.
"So, this means the remedy is worth more than its weight in gold. What exactly makes you willing to share the manufacturing formula with us?"
The murmuring subsided, and a strange tension filled the hall.
Just as she pointed out, amidst the Cadena flu crisis, the remedy was a priceless treasure.
If they managed to leak the formula to the outside world, they could amass a fortune.
All eyes turned toward Oscar with a mix of curiosity and suspicion as he calmly read the documents placed on the podium.
"Let’s see... thirty-five fourth-level mages and only three fifth-level mages. The age range varies from 22 to 26."
Oscar scanned them, then shook his head slightly.
"To be honest, I don’t understand why all of you are still here in the White Tower."
Silence fell.
The quiet was so profound that one could hear even the faintest swallow.
But soon enough, mages who couldn’t suppress their anger began to speak out.
"...So, you're saying we have no shame, clinging to the White Tower?"
"I heard you'd changed after nearly dying, but you’re as rude as ever."
"They say old sayings hold true—people don’t change."
Feeling disrespected, the mages began grumbling and complaining.
Even Lena, who had asked several questions, now looked at him coldly.
"Looks like this was a waste of time. Let me make one thing clear: among those gathered here today, not a single one deserves to hear such insolence from you."
Lena turned to leave, convinced there was no point in continuing with him.
"I know."
Oscar’s quiet voice in the laboratory made her pause.
Slowly, she turned around and narrowed her eyes.
"...What did you say?"
"I said I know. I know how much all of you here love the White Tower and what you’ve sacrificed for it—all of it."
Oscar tapped the document with his fingers and continued.
"You may think you hid it well, but the White Tower isn’t so incompetent as to be unaware."
Ignoring their questioning stares, he read off several notable points from the application records.
"Lena White, fifth-level mage, 25 years old. The Red Tower and various organizations made a total of seven attempts to recruit you for your unique talents and leadership. You turned them all down."
"Harrock Dryon, fifth-level mage, 26 years old. The royal family recognized your skill in magic combat and offered you a position as a royal mage, but you declined."
"Deckard Rine, fifth-level mage, 26 years old. The Empire Academy offered you a position as an instructor four times, all of which you refused."
"Sophia Rose, fourth-level mage, 23 years old. The Yellow Tower secretly approached you for your creative alchemy skills but was declined."
Oscar’s words silenced the hall again. mages looked at each other, exchanging glances of mutual surprise, wondering, "You, too?" Oscar placed the document down and continued.
"As I said, I don’t understand why you’re all still here in the White Tower. If I had received offers like these... well, I’m not sure I could refuse."
The reason is simple.
The White Tower is dying.
It’s hard to find any trace of a future here.
"But you didn’t leave."
The reason can only be one thing: because you love the White Tower.
You want to revive this fallen tower with your own strength.
Lena, fighting an indescribable surge of emotion, bit her lip.
"...Are you saying the elders were aware of all those offers?"
"They were aware. They simply pretended not to know."
They probably thought that acknowledging it would make you feel burdened.
While they hoped you wouldn’t leave, they didn’t want to hold back children who could rise higher elsewhere.
So, knowing everything, they pretended not to know.
Oscar addressed the mages, who stood in silence.
"The White Tower is going through its harshest winter in history. Under such circumstances, even though you had the opportunity to work in better conditions, you chose to stay in the cold here."
He then asked,
"If I can’t trust people like that, then who could I possibly trust?"
After this meaningful question, Oscar stepped down from the podium, putting on his goggles.
"Fran, get ready. It seems we’ll have to handle this task together."
"Oh? Uh, okay."
As Fran came down, preparing the materials skillfully, Lena approached them, quietly slipping on her goggles.
"...Tell me what needs to be done."
Seeing this, the other mages, who had been about to leave the laboratory, started to gather around them one by one.
"Hmph. You should have spoken like that from the start."
"We thought this young brat was spitting insults, so we got mad."
"We don’t have time to waste. Didn't you say there’s only a week left?"
"Hey, in the back! Why are you just standing there watching? Hurry up and prepare!"
"Hey, you! Am I wearing this right?"
Despite their grumbling, they put on their goggles and gloves.
Fran let out a small laugh as he watched them.
"Ha, ha. The great Oscar, persuading people with words—am I dreaming?"
"...If it’s a dream like this, I wouldn’t mind."
Oscar took in the bustling laboratory with a small smile.
It was the first time he’d felt a sense of liveliness in the White Tower since awakening in this body.
‘Even if someone leaked the recipe, they wouldn’t profit due to the patent, but there’s no need to mention that now.’
To keep the good atmosphere going, he spoke up.
"Ah, by the way, the meat served at every meal isn't pork but..."
"Ugh. It’s chicken, isn’t it?"
"...Please, tell me it’s not rat."
Glancing around at the anxious mages, he shrugged.
"It’s beef."
"Oooooh!"
"Meat! Meat! Beef!"
Maybe it was the meat, or perhaps it was the rare unity among the White Tower mages, but within a week, the production of the remedy surpassed the target by 140%.

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