The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
Chapter 75: The Delivery Department (5)
Whoosh! Whip-crack!
Oscar deftly dodged the incoming whip.
Catching it barehanded, like he had done a few days ago, was out of the question now.
‘Even with the wind protecting my hands...’
The whip Fran wielded had now become as dangerous as a sword.
Crash!
The whip struck the training room wall, shattering it into pieces.
Staring at the crumbling wall, Oscar asked,
“Had enough?”
“Huff, huff...”
Fran, exhausted after a few swings of the whip, collapsed on the floor of the training room.
“I... I can’t... I can’t anymore...”
His trembling body made it clear this wasn’t an act.
In mere moments, his stamina and mana were completely drained.
“Hmm. The power is definitely impressive, but your endurance needs work.”
The attack had enough force to instantly incapacitate anyone it hit.
Its destructive potential was unquestionable.
‘Steel wielded at supersonic speed. It’s almost invisible to the naked eye.’
Few intermediate mages or knights could withstand such an attack with ease.
“Keep practicing this consistently. Let’s aim for... being able to swing it freely for about ten minutes.”
“Huff, huff... Ten minutes? I can barely manage three swings before my arms give out!”
“You’ll get there someday.”
“Easy for you to say when it’s not your problem,”
Fran grumbled, pouting as he sat up.
The energy he had burned was so intense that his face looked noticeably thinner.
“But thanks. At least you’ve given me a clear direction for my efforts.”
“That’s good to hear.”
A clear direction for effort.
For someone training, nothing was more important than that.
Wasting decades or centuries on pointless tasks would still yield nothing but futility.
“But it feels bad to keep receiving help without giving anything in return. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Not right now. But think of it as me holding onto a favor token.”
One day, Fran’s newfound strength would surely come in handy.
“...Why does calling it a favor token suddenly make me feel uneasy?”
Muttering to himself, Fran extended his fist.
“Fine. If you ever need my help, just say the word. That’s what friends are for, right?”
Friends.
Oscar mulled over the word before smiling faintly and bumping fists with him.
“I’ll be going now.”
A few days later, thousands of motorcycles were lined up in front of the White Tower of Sirin.
Maxim clicked his tongue in amazement at the sight.
“This is quite the spectacle, don’t you think?”
“It certainly is. Even I’ve never seen so many motorcycles gathered in one place before,”
The Deputy Tower Master admitted honestly.
Thanks to the rental company doing some maintenance, every bike looked as good as new.
The sea of motorcycles stretching into the distance resembled an army of machines.
“So this is a motorcycle. It’s my first time seeing one in person.”
“I thought it would be similar to a bicycle, but it’s much bigger and heavier than I expected.”
“It definitely has an overwhelming mechanical feel to it. Almost intimidating, in a way.”
The dwarves, their appetites whetted, were already imagining how to disassemble and modify the machines.
Even with their tight schedule, nothing delighted them more than this sort of work.
“There are 5,231 in total. The numbers match perfectly.”
“Seeing the real thing makes my hands itch. Alright, boys! Move them to the workshop!”
Of course, they didn’t use the elevator to move all 5,000-plus motorcycles to the 13th floor.
That would’ve paralyzed the tower.
“Magic really is convenient.”
“Well, that’s magic for you.”
The massive windows on the 13th floor were thrown open, and the motorcycles were levitated inside with magic.
Naturally, many mages helped out, giving the public a brief glimpse of the workshop.
“Wow, so that’s what they were building on the 13th floor—a workshop?”
“I guess the rumors about the kids Oscar brought in being dwarves are true.”
“That’s insane. If that’s the case, Sirin is the only place on the continent capable of producing dwarf-crafted equipment.”
Onlookers gawked at the dwarves, mouths agape, while Oscar, overseeing the work, spoke up.
“Hagor, make sure to meet the deadline.”
“Don’t rush me before we’ve even started!”
Grumbling, Hagor quickly scurried away, not wanting to hear more nagging.
Until the motorcycle modifications were complete, Oscar had little to do.
He turned to Fidelina and asked,
“How’s the civilian recruitment for the delivery department coming along?”
“Over 40,000 have applied as of today. Applications keep pouring in so fast that we can barely keep up with reviewing them.”
A satisfied smile crossed her face.
“Of course, we’ll have to see how many of them are actually worth hiring.”
Over 40,000 already.
Even with high wages on offer, that was an impressive turnout.
‘Then again, it’s not surprising.’
There was a general belief that projects led by magic towers rarely failed.
And even though the White Tower’s glory had faded, it was still one of the Four Great Towers.
Offering high salaries while recruiting from such a position of prestige—it was natural that so many people would apply.
‘How many of them are truly committed, though...’
That wasn’t worth worrying about.
Once they came for interviews, it would be the department’s job to make them want to join the White Tower’s new delivery business.
‘What I really need to focus on is that man.’
Oscar subtly approached a tall, slender man standing behind the elders.
“Hello, senior.”
“Hmm? Ah, Oscar.”
Pedro X, a 6th-level mage and the temporary head of the delivery department.
Rumor had it his greatest wish was to leave the delivery business behind and dedicate himself to magic research.
Naturally, his ultimate goal would be to become a 7th-level high mage.
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations? What for... Ah.”
Pedro gave a shy smile and nodded.
"It's all thanks to you. I don't fully understand it yet, but you're saying that using those bikes, even regular folks can make deliveries, right? Thanks to that, I can finally start focusing on magic research."
"Do you not usually do magic research?"
"I squeeze it in here and there, but there's just not enough time. At this rate, I'll never reach level 7 in my lifetime."
The pure passion for learning he displayed made him look like a mage straight out of a storybook.
'And yet, he's also a competent head of the delivery department.'
Mages are rarely ordinary.
Most are eccentric, stubborn, and intensely opinionated.
Yet this man had managed to guide, appease, and sometimes even scold such individuals into doing their jobs over the past several months.
That alone proved he was a perfect fit for his position.
'Which makes it all the more impossible to let him go.'
You might want to postpone your journey to level 7 magic for a little while longer.
Oscar thought, clasping his hands behind his back.
"But do you really have to resign as the head of the delivery department? It seems like a perfect calling for you."
"I've only been acting as a temporary head because no one else wanted to take the role. My true goal is magic research. Now that the system is in place, surely someone will be willing to take over."
"Still, isn't it better for someone experienced to continue? The delivery department will be quite busy at first after the restructuring, and a novice head is bound to make mistakes."
Pedro's eyes narrowed slightly, a trace of suspicion glimmering in his gaze.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
"I just want you to stay in your position, that's all. Like you've been doing up until now."
"I'll say it again: my goal is magic research."
"Heh."
Oscar let out a cryptic smile and continued.
"Magic research—it's wonderful. I love it too. But you know what?"
He formed a small circle with his thumb and forefinger and shook it lightly.
"Magic research costs a lot of money. You know that better than anyone, don't you?"
Leaning in slightly, he whispered something into Pedro's ear.
Pedro's eyes widened in shock.
"What? What? The salary increase is that much?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down. It's confidential."
Calming him down, Oscar resumed speaking.
"And that's not all. You'll also receive incentives."
"Incentives?"
"Yes. A portion of the monthly revenue and profits from the delivery department will be allocated to the department head."
"Ah... if that's the case, then..."
Pedro, who knew the department's earnings inside out, responded indifferently.
Oscar caught the hint of disinterest and smirked.
"You just thought the amount wouldn't be much, didn't you?"
"Ahem. I was just calculating it in my head, that's all."
"Pedro, you know Elder Fidelina's strictness when it comes to finances, right?"
"....Of course, better than anyone."
How many times had he gritted his teeth trying to negotiate even a penny more for operational expenses?
There were times he thought it might be easier to take on a reconnaissance mission in the Red Mountain Range.
"That very same person has invested a large sum of money into these bikes. Do you know why?"
"Because she's confident she can recoup it?"
"Exactly. There's a good chance the delivery department's revenue might even surpass the potions department's."
Oscar leaned in again and discreetly shared how much he, as the head of the potions department, earned in incentives.
"My goodness. You earn that much?!"
"Not at first. You know the potions department wasn't doing well initially, right?"
"Well, yes, that's true."
"I worked hard for just over three months. Thanks to that, I don't really have to intervene much anymore. I just review sales reports every month and spend the rest of my time on magic research."
"Three months..."
Pedro X swallowed hard.
The potions department had started from nothing and climbed to its current status.
'Meanwhile, the delivery department already has a solid foundation.'
For over ten years, they had essentially monopolized the market without any real competition.
In other words, a few months of effort could lead to a golden future.
Still, Pedro remained skeptical.
"...If it's such a great position, why don’t you take it? There's no rule against managing two departments at once, is there?"
"Why would I? I'm perfectly satisfied with my current life. Besides, one should stick to what they know best. If I were to take on something I know nothing about and mess it up, who would be responsible?"
"I'm only saying this because I care about you. You've worked so hard; you deserve to be rewarded. If you endure a little more hardship now, your life will flourish. I just worry you might pass up this golden opportunity."
Hardship, reward, opportunity, passing it up.
Each word was carefully chosen, like a platter of the top four flavors at a popular ice cream shop.
"Ahem."
One could almost hear the mental calculator in Pedro's head churning out results.

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