The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
Chapter 26: Supplements (1)
A lazy Saturday morning, with the sun gently seeping through the cracks of the tower.
Having completed his morning training, Oscar headed to the café on the second floor.
His body felt invigorated, but his expression was anything but cheerful.
‘Those filthy Blue Tower bastards...’
Just a few days ago, after a class, Elder Maxim shared some news with him.
It was that merchants were reluctant to stock White Tower potions due to pressure from the Blue Tower.
‘No doubt the Blue Tower applied some pressure. It's so obvious.’
It's true that the White Tower had made a name for itself with its remedy for the Cadena flu.
However, the potion market was far too large for one success to change its dynamics entirely.
‘Simply put, the merchants believe we're not yet at a level to compete with the Blue Tower.’
As harsh as it felt, it was a fair judgment.
No matter how effective their potions were, there was no compelling reason for merchants to risk the ire of the Blue Tower by purchasing from the White Tower.
‘Sigh, this is such a headache. And why is this café so crowded early in the morning?’
Oscar, standing in line, glanced at the bustling crowd.
He overheard a conversation between two nearby mages.
"What tasks are you handling today?"
"Just mail delivery. I only have to cover Belod Street from 1st to 5th Avenue."
"Wow, that should be quick. I've been stuck with package delivery, which is a nightmare."
"Tough luck."
Oscar instinctively turned his gaze toward the mages ahead of him.
‘Ah, so these must be the 'Wind Riders,' or whatever they're called.’
Despite his lack of understanding, these were the ones handling the White Tower's primary business—deliveries.
From their attire, one could hardly tell they were mages.
If not for the white-themed clothing, they looked just like regular postal workers.
"Oh, by the way, did you hear? Our salaries are supposed to be increased starting this month."
"Really? That'll be a relief. Well, the Tower's making good money now, thanks to the remedies and vaccines selling well."
"I wish they'd shut down the delivery business and just focus on that instead."
"That would be nice, but you know how serious the Tower Master is about the delivery service."
"I just can't understand it. Why put so much effort into such a small, insignificant market?"
Oscar silently agreed with their assessment.
‘Delivery certainly isn't an attractive business.’
It requires manpower but doesn't generate much profit.
There's no political advantage or power to be gained from it either.
However, there was one notable upside.
‘According to my research, the delivery service doesn't make much money, but its public approval is by far the highest among all the Tower's business divisions.’
It made sense. What other mage tower would invest resources and mages into a nearly volunteer-like service that doesn't bring in profits?
Oscar's expression turned a bit bittersweet.
‘Sasha has always been overly kind-hearted, even from a young age. That might be why she can't bring herself to shut down the delivery division.’
As a mentor, he felt proud of her for maintaining such a warm spirit despite tough circumstances.
‘But...’
As a former Tower Master, his cold evaluation was that her management skills left much to be desired.
Running a money-losing business when every coin mattered was a poor decision.
‘If only the potion sales were going smoother, things would be less strained.’
Oscar's brows furrowed with deep contemplation.
"Let's just get a coffee and push through the day. There are good moments in work, after all."
"That's true. Especially when we help elderly folks with heavy stuff, they often give us treats."
At that moment, a light bulb went off in Oscar's mind.
He quickly approached the departing mages.
"Wait! Can I ask you something?"
"Huh? Oscar? What is it?"
"When you're out delivering, do you often meet people face-to-face?"
"Well... yeah, quite often. We need to get a signature confirming delivery."
Snap!
Hearing the response he wanted,
Oscar snapped his fingers.
He thanked them and headed straight to the Deputy Tower Master.
"So, let me get this straight..."
Deputy Tower Master Hamel Grimwiz looked up after reading the business proposal before him.
"You want to use the White Tower's Wind Riders to do door-to-door sales?"
"Precisely."
Oscar began explaining his plan calmly.
"I heard that market merchants aren't buying our potions—White Tower's potions—because of their allegiance to the Blue Tower."
"That's a painful truth."
"To break into this entrenched market, we need a solid base of regular customers."
"Hmm."
The Deputy Tower Master nodded.
"I understand your intent. But isn't this unrealistic?"
Recipients of mail and packages come in all ages and genders.
And right now, the White Tower doesn't have products that can appeal to all of them.
In response, Oscar gave a confident smile.
"If we don't have the products, we can just create new ones."
"Are you suggesting developing new potions?"
"No need for something as grand as developing. Just a few tweaks."
Oscar grabbed a piece of paper and sketched a vial.
"Look, this is one of our best-performing mid-tier healing potions."
With quick strokes, he drew four lines branching out from the vial.
"We'll slightly modify this potion and re-release it as four different products."
The first would be for children, promoting rapid growth and strong bones.
The second would be for women, enhancing skin elasticity, whitening, and reducing pores.
The third would be for men, supporting muscle growth and strength.
Lastly, the fourth would be for the elderly, boosting overall immunity and vitality.
"Whenever the Wind Riders deliver mail, they'll also promote these four potions... No, let's change the term while we're at it."
For the general public, the term 'potion' itself was intimidating.
Potions were seen as something only knights, soldiers, or adventurers would drink.
"Supplements. We'll call them supplements. From now on, the White Tower's Wind Riders will do door-to-door sales of these supplements while delivering mail."
The Deputy Tower Master, momentarily stunned, regained his senses and spoke.
"Adjusting the effects of an already developed potion is easier said than done. In practice, it might be more challenging than creating four new products."
"Really? It’s just a matter of tweaking ingredient ratios and adding a few additional components."
In other words, only a genius like Oscar Crucian could pull this off.
After a brief moment of thought, the Deputy Tower Master spoke up.
"It's certainly a novel idea. And it’s bound to be effective."
"Are you saying...?"
"Go ahead with it."
With the green light, Oscar got to work immediately.
In just two days, the recipes for the four supplements were completed and sent to the potion manufacturing department.
Creak, creak.
In a rocking chair on his front porch, an old man named Graham looked up at the clear sky.
Watching the sky on a breezy afternoon was his only joy these days.
"As I get older, my energy just keeps dwindling..."
His usual hobby was playing chess at the central fountain of Sirin, but recently, even that had become too exhausting for his tired body and mind.
Someone approached him as he gazed up at the sky, feeling as weak as a sickly chicken.
"Mr. Graham!"
"...Hmm?"
At the sound of someone calling his name, Graham slowly turned his head, a rare spark of life lighting up his eyes.
It was the White Tower's postman, who spoke with him more often than his busy children and grandchildren.
"Good to see you. Do you have a letter for me?"
"Yes, it's from a friend of yours in Melbourne."
"Ha. So that old friend of mine is still kicking, huh."
"Oh, come on. They say people live to a hundred nowadays. Why would he be dead?"
"A hundred? Even at eighty, I feel like my body and mind are heavy as lead."
"Is that so?"
The postman, rummaging through his rather full-looking backpack, suddenly pulled something out.
"In that case, would you like to try this, sir?"
"Hmm? What is that?"
"It's a new supplement we've just launched at our Magic Tower."
The postman handed him a small glass bottle, just the size to fit in his palm.
The label read "S-Zero."
"S-Zero? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, it stands for a 'Senior' supplement that's top priority for the elderly."
"Hah. What's the point of an old man like me, waiting for his time, drinking that?"
"It does make a difference."
The postman leaned closer, glancing around as if making sure no one else was listening, and lowered his voice.
"You know old Mr. Miller on 2nd Avenue, right? He took this last week, and now he's out hiking these days."
"...Is that really true?"
Graham couldn't hide his disbelief.
After all, Mr. Miller had always complained about his knees, barely able to walk.
"Yes. It's because this supplement was developed by Oscar Crucian, the Magic Tower's prodigy himself."
"Oscar Crucian... That name sounds familiar..."
"Remember? He was the one who developed the cure for the Cadena flu not long ago."
"Oh, right!"
The memory clicked.
The elderly folks had been abuzz with talk about how a real talent had finally emerged from the crumbling Magic Tower.
Knowing that, the little bottle in his hand suddenly seemed much more significant.
"So, this is a supplement made by that amazing wizard?"
Graham stared at the bottle with curiosity, then turned his head.
"But... how much does it cost?"
"One bottle is 30 bels. If you take one bottle a week, it should give you a boost."
"Hmm. I don't need it."
It was expensive.
The price was enough for a nice steak dinner at a good restaurant.
It was too much for someone like Graham, living on a modest pension.
The postman interjected just as Graham was about to hand the bottle back.
"Hold on, sir. You’re registered as a resident of Sirin, right? We’re currently running a special promotion for residents. If you sign up for a year-long subscription, we'll deliver one bottle of the supplement every week for just 799 bells. And it's even available with a 12-month interest-free payment plan."
Normally, drinking a bottle weekly would cost 1,560 bells a year.
But now, they were offering it at half the price.
It felt like a deal he couldn’t pass up.
Plus, they offered an interest-free payment plan.
‘799 bells for a year... If I cut down on alcohol and cigarettes, I might manage it somehow...’
After all, his kids had been nagging him to reduce those habits, considering his age.
Spending that money on a healthy supplement seemed like a better investment.
Besides, he was reaching an age where he was starting to notice signs of health decline.
"Oh, and we’re giving away the first bottle for free."
"Ha! You should have said that first!"
Graham immediately opened the bottle and downed the supplement in one gulp.
"Mm!"
It was sweet with a hint of bitterness, a taste that felt oddly addictive.
Even if the effect wasn’t immediate, the flavor alone made him want to have it from time to time.
"It's tasty. But I don’t feel any sudden surge of energy."
"Oh, come on, sir! If you felt a boost right after drinking it, it wouldn’t be a supplement; it would be a miracle potion."
"Haha, that's true."
Graham chuckled and waved at the postman, who was getting ready to leave.
"Don’t go too far. Come back again sometime."
"Of course. I hope to see you in good health next time!"
The next morning, when Graham woke up, he felt a strange sense of discomfort.
It was only while washing up and eating freshly made toast and bacon that he realized what it was.
"...I feel refreshed."
For the past few months, he had woken up feeling groggy and heavy-headed.
But today, he felt surprisingly light and clear-minded.
‘Could it be because of the supplement I drank yesterday?’
No way, he thought.
Could one bottle make such a difference overnight?
He shook his head with a chuckle, dismissing the idea.
Nevertheless, he put on his outdoor clothes and decided to visit the fountain for the first time in a while.
"...Hey, isn’t that old Graham?"
"I hadn’t seen you in weeks. Thought you were gone for good. But here you are, looking fine."
"I’m not going anywhere before you, my friend. I just wasn’t feeling well, so I took a few days off."
Graham naturally sat in an empty seat and started a game of chess after a long break.
"Wow, did you practice at home while you were away? You’re on fire today."
"Haha. I’m feeling unusually focused today. It’s like I’m ten years younger."
"What’s going on? Did you find some magical elixir?"
"Not exactly an elixir, but..."
"Come on, spill it. You definitely took something."
Under the persistent questioning of his friends, Graham cautiously revealed the story of the supplement from the Magic Tower.
And it wasn’t just happening in Sirin; across all territories where the White Tower’s postmen traveled, similar stories were unfolding simultaneously.

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