The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
Chapter 3: The Tragic Genius (2)
A two-story gray building on the outskirts of Sirin.
At first glance, it appeared ordinary, but it was actually a gang hideout.
"Uh, boss."
"Boss. Boss, you idiot. How many times do I have to tell you? I'm a businessman now."
"Oh, right. My bad."
"Sigh..."
The leader, Gordon, rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.
The thought of having to rely on someone like this as his right-hand man was almost pitiful.
"Anyway, boss, are you sure about this?"
"About what?"
"That mage. I heard he almost died after drinking the potion he bought from us."
"So what?"
"Uh... what?"
"What does that have to do with us?"
Click!
Gordon lit the cigar in his mouth, exhaling a cloud of acrid smoke.
"Kid, this isn't my first day in business. That guy got greedy and ended up with mana overload. That’s all."
"But what if the White Tower folks investigate further?"
"Ugh... Bart, you idiot."
Chuckling softly, Gordon posed a question.
"Do you even know who hired us to hand over that potion to him?"
"No, the guy was wearing a hooded robe. How could I know?"
"That’s why you’re useless."
"Wait, are you saying you know who it was, boss?"
"I don’t. And I don’t need to."
Huff...
After another puff of smoke, Gordon smirked.
"But I do know where he’s from. That guy’s a mage from the White Tower."
"What!? Are you serious?"
Bart's shocked reaction was met with Gordon’s chuckle and a gesture to lower his voice.
"He could fool anyone, but not me. When I took the payment, I saw him wearing the White Tower’s ring."
"Wow, impressive. I didn’t notice a thing."
"That’s the difference between you and me, kid."
Just as Gordon was about to boast further about his keen observation, an unfamiliar voice interrupted their conversation.
"If he was really from the White Tower, he wouldn’t have made it so obvious. He’s not an idiot."
"Who’s there?"
Both men turned toward the window, and Gordon’s expression darkened.
"You... Oscar Crucian? I heard you were on death’s door."
"Almost. But I pulled through."
"Heh."
Amused, Gordon leaned back into his chair and asked,
"So, what brings you here? You’re still not fully recovered, are you?"
"I was curious about the conversation you two were having."
"Tsk. If you had pretended not to hear, I might’ve spared you."
Now that their attempt to assassinate a White Tower mage had been exposed, there was no letting him go.
They had to settle this here and now.
Gordon waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting a fly.
"Kill him."
"Yes, boss!"
At the command, Bart drew his sword and charged without hesitation.
"...No hesitation when killing someone, huh?"
"You can’t survive in this cutthroat world if you hesitate!"
Oscar’s gaze grew cold and sharp.
‘Alright, this actually makes it easier.’
If the opponent was just a lowlife thug, he didn’t need to hold back either.
"Wind Shield."
"Pfft!"
Despite being wary of Oscar’s magic, Bart couldn’t help but laugh.
Instead of launching an attack to fend off his charge, he cast a defensive spell?
‘The sheltered 1st-level mage clearly doesn’t know any better.’
Bart assumed his opponent was too scared to act decisively.
At this point, the fight was as good as over.
He was confident his strength could shatter that shield and cut through the body behind it.
Swish!
As Bart’s sword descended like a bolt of lightning, Oscar’s Wind Shield tilted at an angle.
"What the—!?"
The angle was so precise it sent chills down Bart’s spine.
It maintained the force of his attack but subtly altered its trajectory.
Thud!
The sword veered off course and lodged itself into the window frame.
Bart’s heart sank momentarily, but his years of experience in the underworld kicked in.
‘The distance is already closed. A 1st-level mage can be beaten to death with bare hands.’
Without hesitation, Bart let go of his sword and threw a punch.
"Wind Cutter."
"Tch."
Anticipating this, Bart swiftly pulled his free hand to guard his neck and heart.
He knew Wind Cutter was a potent spell, but it couldn’t inflict deep wounds.
‘It’s also limited to a linear trajectory, making its path predictable.’
His defense should only result in minor cuts at worst.
Confident, Bart aimed a blow at Oscar.
Slash!
But the Wind Cutter suddenly coiled like a snake, climbing Bart’s arm.
It reached his shoulder and slashed the back of his neck.
"Ack!"
Instinctively, Bart reached back to clutch the wound, leaving his throat exposed.
The Wind Cutter seized the opening, carving a crimson line across his neck.
"Gurgle, gurgle...!"
Blood spurted like a fountain as Bart staggered backward before collapsing.
He didn’t rise again.
"Bart!"
Gordon leapt from his seat, spitting curses.
"You bastard!"
He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out something, aiming it at Oscar.
Bang! Bang, bang!
Three gunshots rang out, and Gordon panted, catching his breath.
"Huff, huff. That’ll teach you to mess with me..."
"This is interesting."
Oscar observed the bullets hovering before him, held back by his Wind Shield.
The speed and destructive power were impressive.
If his shield had been even slightly delayed, his head would’ve been blown apart.
"No magic involved, yet such force... How does this work?"
"You stopped my bullets?"
Gordon’s eyes widened, disbelief spreading across his face.
"Bullets? So that’s what these are called?"
A ranged weapon, seemingly easier to handle than a bow and capable of killing without magic.
The world had changed a lot in 20 years.
Intrigued, Oscar muttered,
"I’ll study this later. For now, let me return your bullets."
Whoosh!
A powerful gust of wind sent the bullets back to their owner.
"Aaargh!"
Gordon collapsed as his collarbone, hand, and thigh were pierced.
Oscar strolled to the desk, sinking into the plush chair and crossing his legs.
"Now, about that conversation you were having with the corpse earlier. Care to continue?"
"Heh... Got cash? That’s some pricey information."
Gordon grinned, a gleam of malice in his eyes.
He was clearly banking on reinforcements, confident his men would have heard the gunshots.
Oscar, seeing through his thoughts, offered some advice.
"Your men aren’t coming. I’ve blocked the sound."
"...You can use 『Silence』?"
"Not quite."
Silence was a spell usually mastered by 5th-level mages or higher.
In his current 1st-level state, it was beyond his reach.
"What I used is 『Sound Binding』. It’s just holding back the noise for a while."
"...What an absurd boast."
He'd never even heard of such magic existing.
"Believe it or not, that's up to you. But I'd appreciate it if you answered my question."
"...What if I refuse?"
"Your pride is more important than your life, huh? Not a bad choice."
Well, with guts like that, it makes sense he'd be running things in the back alleys.
Oscar shrugged his shoulders.
"Then grit your teeth and tough it out. It's the path you chose, after all."
"Tough out what—mmpf! Mmph!"
CRACK!
Oscar pried open Gordon's mouth with a rough hand and let a stream of wind flow inside. Moments later, the room was filled with an ear-piercing scream.
"Aaaaaahhh! Gaaaahhh!"
Gordon flailed like a fish out of water. It must have felt like thousands of needles tearing through his body.
It was, without a doubt, a type of pain he'd never experienced in his life.
"I don't like torture much, either."
It makes my ears ring afterward.
Oscar covered his ears with both hands and made a plea.
"So please, open your mouth as quickly as possible. I really mean it."
"Ugh... Ughhh!"
Tears, snot, and drool streamed from Gordon's face as he grabbed onto Oscar's shoes after barely ten seconds.
His fear-filled eyes brimmed with regret.
"P-please... I'll tell you everything..."
"Good."
Snap!
Oscar snapped his fingers, halting the torture, and spoke.
"Tell me everything you know about the client."
"Haah... Haaah..."
After catching his breath, Gordon stammered in a trembling voice.
"They... they suddenly showed up, gave me a large sum of money and a vial of elixir, and told me to sell it to you for cheap! They said you wouldn’t be able to resist..."
"What did they look like?"
"They were wearing a deep hood, so I couldn’t see their face... but, as I said, they were wearing a ring from the White Tower."
"I've heard enough about the ring."
It was likely just a cheap trick to deceive this guy, anyway.
"Oh, and the smell! They had a distinct scent."
"A scent?"
"Y-yes! A crisp peppermint fragrance that was sharp enough to clear my head, but that’s all I know..."
Clearly, a disposable errand boy who wasn't told much.
‘So, all I got was a peppermint scent.’
But perfumes like that are a dime a dozen.
If anything, there must be even more varieties now than in the past.
And it might even be another smokescreen.
Letting out a sigh, Oscar asked another question.
"One thing I don’t understand—how were you planning to deal with the aftermath if you killed me?"
"Well, with the White Tower busy dealing with their potential expulsion from the Four Great Towers, I thought the investigation might be lax..."
"Wait. What’s this about expulsion?"
Oscar’s eyes narrowed.
"The Four Great Towers expulsion issue?"
"S-surely you know more about it than I do, Oscar."
"I don’t. After taking the elixir I bought from you, I lost most of my memories."
At that blatant lie, Gordon flinched.
"...I sincerely apologize. I’ve committed a grave sin."
"Save your apologies. Explain it in detail."
"I kept the related documents in the safe under the desk."
"Then open it."
When Gordon unlocked the safe, Oscar retrieved a pouch of money and a few documents.
Each was labeled: Ledger, White Tower, and Oscar Crussian.
‘Let’s start with the White Tower document.’
Rustle, rustle.
His eyes skimmed quickly over the densely packed pages.
[White Tower records worst performance among all towers last year.]
[Twenty years after losing everything, the White Tower still awaits a new wind of change.]
[Imperial statement: A major announcement concerning the White Tower will be made at this year’s White Night Festival.]
[Experts identify failed business ventures and lack of high-level magic as the White Tower’s biggest problems.]
Oscar's hand paused mid-turn, utterly perplexed.
‘Why doesn’t the White Tower have high-level magic?’
He knew the demons had attacked and burned most of the White Tower’s archives.
But he'd left measures in place for such an event.
‘...Could Edna have betrayed me?’
She, the Observer of the World and Mediator of Balance, was entrusted with everything.
He’d even instructed her to pass it all on to the future head of the White Tower.
‘No, she wouldn’t betray me. She has no reason to.’
Deciding to investigate that matter separately, Oscar turned to the next page.
[The Great Emperor’s death on April 28 was declared a national holiday, White Night Day. The Emperor honored Archmage Oscar Sage’s sacrifice with an unprecedented gift—30 years of tax exemption for the White Tower.]
[Yet the White Tower’s decline began from an entirely unexpected source. While other towers thrived in business ventures after the war, the White Tower alone lagged behind and became obsolete.]
‘Business? What does that even mean?’
Oscar pointed to the line and looked at Gordon.
"When they say business here, do they mean potion sales?"
"That doesn’t even count as a business anymore. It’s the bare minimum for any tower."
"...Then tell me what kind of business the Four Great Towers are running."
Clearing his throat, Gordon began to explain.
"The Golden Tower, masters of lightning, ushered in the era of magical engineering. Thanks to that, they’re rolling in money."
"Magical engineering—that means streetlights and cars, right?"
"Exactly."
As expected, magical engineering was the Golden Tower’s domain.
‘I knew it. Even in my past life, they kept bragging about magical engineering and technological revolutions.’
Who’d have thought it would actually happen?
He never imagined the field would advance so much in 20 years.
...If he had, he would’ve invested his entire fortune.
Swallowing his regret, Oscar asked the next question.
"What about the Blue Tower?"
"They’re more diverse. Their main ventures are water distribution, agricultural support, and potion sales."
"You just said potions don’t count as a business."
"It’s different for the Blue Tower. They dominate the potion industry, almost monopolizing the market."
"...They’re the top dogs in potions?"
Oscar's face soured.
Twenty years ago, the White Tower ruled the potion market.
Of course, most of their recipes were lost in the fire, but it still stung.
"What’s this water distribution and agricultural support about?"
"They sell clean water at high prices and make it rain in drought-stricken areas."
"...They’ll do anything for a bit of coin, won’t they?"
This is why you can’t trust those shallow Blue Tower types.
Clicking his tongue, Oscar frowned at another thought.
"But people actually buy this so-called clean water?"
"Oh, absolutely. These days, anyone with money drinks nothing else."
Was it him who was strange, or the world that had lost its way?
Shaking his head, he moved on.
"The Red Tower must be focused on combat."
"Yes, they’ve integrated with the military. They handle all monster subjugation operations."
"Hmm."
Now understanding the other towers’ business models, Oscar asked.
"Fine. So what’s the White Tower’s business? Selling fresh air?"
"Ha... Ha."
Gordon let out an awkward laugh at the dry joke before answering.
"Delivery. The White Tower’s main business is delivery."
Did he mishear?

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