Chapter 76 - Whether It Will Make Money

After arriving in Halim, Burnel paced the hallway holding his organized documents.

It was the path leading to the lodgings.

He knew where his room was, and he wasn't lost.

Even so, he waited for something, wandering along that path.

"Burnel."

A heavy voice.

And a shiny head visible through the bushes.

It was a head that had once brought laughter to many, earning him the nickname of the Sunlight Mage.

He could have smiled at the old memory, but Burnel couldn't bring himself to do so.

"A-Ah, hello! Chancellor, I haven't seen you since the academy."

"Yes, it's been a while."

"I heard you gave me a spot on the main stage. I am grateful for the favor, and—."

"What is that?"

He cut off Burnel's words and looked at the documents in his hands.

"These are the contents I will present at this exhibition. I polished them as best as I could, but it still isn't easy, so I was hoping to have you review them, Chancellor."

"You want me to?"

"Yes."

"... Hand them here."

Chancellor Bernard began to quickly skim through the presentation draft.

Under his serious gaze, Burnel's mouth went completely dry.

In the end, he laughed.

Was that laugh a sign of good news?

"Ridiculous."

It was not.

What came out of his mouth was a laugh closer to a sneer.

"Burnel Marquis, I cannot hide my disappointment in you."

"W-What do you mean?"

Burnel asked, maintaining his politeness.

"What do you plan to do when the efficiency is only a mere 12%?"

"I am gradually increasing the efficiency."

"Are you saying you'll show them there's 'plenty of potential' during the presentation just to get laughed at? Are you trying to smear the face of the Regent of Valdrova, who at least believed in you?"

Burnel stared blankly at his face.

It was not an application of something that already existed, but a new creation.

Even 12% was an astonishing achievement.

Chancellor Bernard continued speaking.

"And is there anyone who understands this formula you've figured out? This looks like a jumbled mess even to me. You've only obtained the formula; your speed at improving the efficiency is far too slow. If I understood this, I would have raised the efficiency much faster than you. Do you know why I have such confidence?"

"..."

"Burnel, it's because your perspective is too narrow. When you get absorbed in one thing, you don't look at anything else. Because you're focused on that 1%, you don't know how to raise it by 10%."

Bernard shoved Burnel's presentation draft against his chest and said.

"I'm disappointed, thoroughly disappointed. You were better off when you were dreaming absurd dreams. Right now, you are a 'Complete Mess' itself."

Bernard turned his back on him and walked away.

Burnel couldn't say a word and just looked down at the floor.

He couldn't move from that spot for a long time.

* * *

Ferda watched all of it.

Until Bernard insulted Burnel, handed him a crushing blow, and left.

And he thought.

'Was I wrong about Chancellor Bernard?'

Bernard had made a place for Burnel.

Giving him a spot on the main stage was said to be a huge deal for scholars.

Ferda thought this was done out of goodwill.

But it wasn't.

Bernard was a petty bastard who refused to acknowledge Burnel.

The higher the position, the harder the fall.

Did that mean Bernard intended to ruin Burnel?

'If so...'

What should I do here?

"Oh, Regent! Fancy meeting you here."

His glad voice snapped Ferda out of his thoughts.

The man who had worn the face of a third-rate villain when observed secretly was now putting on a polite and good-natured impression.

"I was just approached by a merchant named Stephan Pascal about how we would handle the main event—."

"Do you truly think he is a fool?"

"Excuse me? What do you mean?"

As Ferda cut him off and asked, Bernard looked completely clueless.

Ferda answered directly.

"I unintentionally overheard the conversation you two had."

At Ferda's words, Bernard finally understood and flushed red.

"Goodness... I've shown you an unsightly side of me."

Yes, it was indeed an unsightly face.

He intended to show him clearly what happens when a person's duplicity is exposed.

"I don't know how it looked to you, but I didn't mean to do anything malicious to Burnel."

Ferda was left speechless.

"What do you mean?"

"Well... Burnel Marquis was a prodigy that our senior scholars had high hopes for. Even during his time at the academy, he secured the top spot, and everyone agreed his brilliant mind would turn the century upside down."

Despite such praise, everyone knew his ending wasn't a good one.

Bernard let out a sigh.

"But the moment he brought what he intended to present at the conference, everyone was taken aback. It was full of absurdities, you see. We tried to dissuade him and somehow steer him in a better direction, but he wouldn't listen. Do you know what happens to nine out of ten people like that? They become consumed by their ideals and turn into lunatics."

"But he wasn't a lunatic."

"Yes. He actually did it."

"And yet you think you can convince me?"

If he were merely chasing ideals, Ferda would have understood as well.

No, rather, he would have approached Burnel with that cynical attitude himself.

But Burnel had done it.

Results that should have taken years of waiting emerged in just a few months, and he was even in the process of raising the efficiency.

"That is why I am doing this."

"Are you saying that refusing to acknowledge him, despite knowing he was right, is what the Chancellor of knowledge does?"

"That is how it must be for people like Burnel."

"What kind of person is he?"

"The kind of person who presents the innovations we denied and couldn't even conceive of. For such individuals, they must not be allowed to linger within the limits of ordinary people like me. They shouldn't research to persuade someone else, but rather follow what they believe in."

Ferda understood those words.

Bernard was a genius.

But Burnel was a genius among geniuses.

So Bernard was saying that his own standards were no different from an ordinary person's standards when applied to Burnel.

"Burnel will try to screw me over no matter what, and he'll prove it with his skills. If he succeeded at something so absurd, he must advance even further now. And he'll prepare to deal me a crushing blow."

This was the whip meant for Burnel.

It was a maneuver to draw out the competitive spirit hiding in his heart.

"And what if he takes the wrong path along the way?"

Just as he himself had.

Ferda swallowed those words.

"Burnel will not choose a cowardly path. He always insists on tackling things head-on. After all, he must also be a scholar advancing toward the absolute truth."

Bernard offered a deep bow.

"But if you ever feel he's taking the wrong path, please tell him the truth: that I am just a petty, narrow-minded human who couldn't bring myself to acknowledge him to his face. Now then, I'll go prepare for the event."

Bernard walked right past Ferda, and Ferda let him go.

What would he gain by beating him up like a rat or scolding him?

'I'm curious, too.'

At the same time, he was curious about the human known as Burnel, as Bernard had figured him out.

Would he succumb to despair over the fact that he wasn't acknowledged, or would he be reborn anew, just as Bernard said?

Ferda went to check on Burnel's room, acting as if he knew nothing.

As if the shock hadn't faded yet, the door wasn't even closed properly, allowing him to step inside.

Burnel was sitting at the table in his lodgings.

His shoulders were heaving, and his breathing was erratic.

"Right, f-fuck... That efficiency... I just have to draw it out myself, don't I?"

Tears were dripping down, but his hands and mind didn't stop.

He was in the process of revising all the points Bernard had pointed out.

"Realistic? Fine, I'll drag it up to 20% by next month. Just you wait. All those bastards who laughed at me... I'll make it so they have no choice but to acknowledge me. Dammit..."

The desire for revenge could be felt vividly in his words and actions.

He was using that as a driving force to rack his brain.

That is what revenge is.

It makes you forget your fatigue,

and grants the focus needed to devote yourself entirely to one thing.

'If there is something different from me...'

It was that he had chosen the right path, exactly as Bernard had expected.

So he quietly closed the door and stepped outside.

* * *

"Just take that thing off. It looks bad compared to when it's displayed. Handle that item gently!"

Stephan directed the workers while looking at the interior blueprints.

"Boss, I brought the item. Where should we display it?"

"Good job. Hang it on that wall over there! You have the brackets, right?"

"Yes."

"Double-check if the brackets are secure. It's an important item! My head could fly off over this!"

The items in question were the mana stones brought as samples and the weapon that utilized them.

Just in case, he also presented a vision by showing that future blueprints had been prepared.

That object, which had a long pipe as its main body and was strung with complex wires and glass bottles, was called the 'magical engineering rifle'.

'That's a weapon?'

He had heard from the researchers that it was a high-performance item, but he had never actually seen a demonstration.

Would that thing really work?

"Oh my, Brother? Fancy meeting you here."

A familiar voice pierced Stephan's ears.

An unexpected person... or rather, it was something to be expected.

Since it was an exhibition where all the merchants participated, there was no way House Pascal wouldn't come.

Even knowing that, Tilda's presence was always as troubling to Stephan as if it were entirely unexpected.

Stephan felt uncomfortable around her.

"Did you come alone?"

"No. I came with my fiancé, of course. He's over there, right, Henri?"

A man walked over with a bright smile.

The man was a plump, middle-aged fellow in his mid-thirties.

It was Henri Dandolo.

He was the heir to Dandolo, one of the largest merchant companies in the Empire.

"Tilda, my love. I brought the cocktail you mentioned."

The plump man in his thirties handed her the glass with a grinning smile.

The relatively petite and slender black-haired beauty stared blankly at the glass.

She puckered her lips, letting her eyes grow moist.

"This is a Cherry Bomb, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"But I wanted to drink a Blue Sapphire..."

Tilda batted her eyelashes, swaying her shoulders slightly.

Seeing this, Henri Dandolo smiled sheepishly and nodded.

"Ah, sorry. I'll go get a new one!"

"Thank you. I knew I could only count on you."

"Brother-in-law! Let's do our greetings later!"

"Uh, yes. Let's..."

Tilda smiled.

Happy to see that smile, he went back to fetch the cocktail.

Stephan scowled as he watched.

"Why are you working your fiancé to the bone instead of letting the servants do it?"

"Why do you think? Because I hate the very sight of him."

Tilda flashed a vicious smile.

She put on a fake front in front of others, but she didn't bother with Stephan.

It meant she looked down on him that much.

"Does he know about that ugly inner self of yours?"

"Of course not. How could a man who hasn't even taken off my underwear have that kind of insight?"

"He'd be thrilled if I told him about the conversation we're having right now."

"Feel free to try, if you have the guts."

She was always like this.

Acting as if she stood above men, she tried to manipulate everyone.

She had been like that since she was a child.

If someone got on her bad side, she would dig a trap to purge them or leave them deeply scarred.

At first, it stopped at a cute level, but as she grew older, she became increasingly calculating.

Stephan was afraid of that side of Tilda.

Even though he had seen the monster hiding beneath her smiling face, he couldn't get a read on what kind of monster it actually was.

"Are these the goods from the far east that you're sponsoring, Brother?"

Covering her mouth with her fan, she looked up at the magical engineering rifle.

"Yeah."

"How cute. To think you'd bring something like that."

Hmm.

She let out a breath and pretended to examine it closely before abruptly turning her head away.

"To me, it looks more like a piece of art."

An implicit question of whether it could even be used.

"Of course it can be used."

"How does it work?"

"That, well, you pull this here like this, and blah blah blah... it just works."

As his words trailed off, Tilda's smile spread deeper.

"So you've never actually seen it in action."

"..."

"Well, it is an exhibition. Even if it's an unfinished item, if you just hang it up, no one will know. No, wait."

She touched her chin with her index finger, putting on an innocent expression.

"Now that I think about it, aren't you holding a presentation as well?"

A gaze that said she knew everything.

Since she knew about the mana stones, she obviously knew there was a presentation scheduled for the main stage as well.

"Why did you bring an item you've never even operated once? Aren't you just going to humiliate yourself if it explodes in the middle of it?"

"Probably."

"It's perfect for a display piece, but hmm... I wonder if this will make any money. Just as Father said, the east seems utterly useless..."

A smile like a waning moon hung on her lips.

That expression.

That was the face that had crushed him down time and time again when he was in House Pascal.

"Don't worry, little sister."

But today was different.

Stephan was filled with confidence, unlike his usual self.

"Because while you're clinging to a man's crotch, I'm holding onto the shoulder of my backer."

It was a provocation laced with quite vulgar language.

But the effect was remarkably good.

Tilda glared at him spitefully.

Her trembling hands and face seemed to say, Who are you, mere Stephan, to talk back to me?

Normally, Stephan's spirit would have been broken, but not now.

He was a sponsor who was backing a more reliable place than anyone else.

'Ah, shit, it's still scary though.'

Recalling the times in their childhood when she used to strike him without hesitation, a cold sweat naturally broke out.

"Would you step aside?"

A voice rang out from behind her.

Her fiercely distorted face instantly smoothed out as she turned around.

A tall stature, gray hair, and blue eyes.

A man wearing a formal uniform with a black base accented in red.

Though young in age, he gave off an aura unsuited for his years.

'This man is Ferda Valdrova.'

A complex face bearing an expression cold enough to suit the moniker of a ruthless killer, which he earned after killing Thessalos Vulture.

It was more than enough to capture Tilda's interest.

She offered a sweet smile and greeted him elegantly.

"Hello, Regent of Valdrova. I am Tilda Pascal—."

"I have no interest in who you are, so step aside."

"Ex-Excuse me?"

He cut off Tilda's greeting.

Although his rude words and actions were incredibly grating, Tilda couldn't bring herself to get angry even on the inside.

Because those blue eyes staring at her were so frigid and cold they felt as if they could freeze her blood vessels.

"You can't seem to understand words. I told you to get out of my sight."