The office, with Danil gone and only the two of them remaining.
The secretary opened her mouth.
“He’s an unusual man. Truly.”
“In what way?”
“Everything.”
Titania gave no answer. Because she was of the same opinion.
The hopes of the Magic Tower’s Foreign Legion mages—in other words, its indefinite-term contract mages—were all the same.
Conversion to regular employment.
For that reason, their work routines were all the same.
Business trips as close to the Magic Tower as possible. They would meet only the bare minimum work requirements, then spend the rest of their time holed up in the training hall or library, devoting themselves to self-cultivation.
They would raise their skills like that, become 5th Circle Masters, and apply through the special recruitment track. Because that was the surest way to go from indefinite-term contract worker to regular employee.
“Of course, it isn’t easy. Is becoming a 5th Circle Master some rank you can win in a game of slap-match?”
“No. That’s why most mages end at 5th Circle User or Expert.”
A 5th Circle Master was a realm just before the 6th Circle, those known as archmages.
In knightly terms, it was the highest level of Sword Expert, with Sword Master right before one’s eyes.
An elite among regular employees, of whom there were already few. Could becoming an expert of that caliber really be easy?
“In the last fifty years, only three people have succeeded in converting to regular employment. That says it all.”
“That’s why it drives me insane.”
From a manager’s perspective, it was nothing short of frustrating.
What the Magic Tower wanted from its Foreign Legion members was, after all, work performance—not self-improvement.
That was why management positions in the Foreign Legion had been avoided for generations.
Making work run while leading people who didn’t want to work?
Naturally, proper results couldn’t come out, and work stress skyrocketed.
It wasn’t called an exile post far removed from promotion for nothing.
‘Though that became an old saying after Danil came in.’
Titania let out a small laugh. Whenever she thought of him, she couldn’t help it.
There had never been an indefinite-term contract worker like this before.
A workaholic to the point that one wondered if he was truly a mage of this world!
A lunatic who had maintained, for a full eight years, a work routine where everyone else worked three days and rested four, while he alone worked six days and rested one!
Now that he had become a 5th Circle Expert, it had changed to five days of work and two days of rest, but the fact that he worked a lot remained the same.
“He’s the man who covers thirty percent of the Foreign Legion’s work all by himself.”
“That’s exactly why I can’t help liking Danil.”
In reality, the difference in work performance before and after Danil joined was like heaven and earth.
Thanks to that, Titania had gained an unexpected benefit. Why?
The work performance of a department with poor results had improved remarkably compared to the previous year. Oh? The newly appointed team leader must be quite competent! What was her name?
In that way, Titania’s name had caught the attention of the upper echelons of the Magic Tower.
It was a benefit she never could have imagined back when she had been pushed out by her competitors’ schemes and seniority and appointed manager of the Foreign Legion, a position far from any path to advancement.
That was why Titania coveted Danil.
It was also why she had transferred to him, under the name of a bonus, the artifact discount voucher she had received last year as a special performance reward.
“A workaholic who doesn’t whine about wanting to be made a regular employee and simply focuses on doing his job. Anyone who lets talent like that slip away is a fool. I’ll definitely make him one of mine.”
“A wise decision.”
For now, she was still being pushed back by seniority and blocked by her competitors, unable to leave the Foreign Legion, but she had not the slightest intention of sinking down like this.
She would seize an opportunity and climb upward.
Yes. All the way to the highest peak—the position of the next Master of the Magic Tower.
For that, a talent like Danil was absolutely necessary.
As the blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty drank the tea her secretary had brought, her eyes burned fiercely with ambition.
*
Luxury is one of humanity’s instincts. Nietzsche said that.
People go wild for luxury goods.
For men, that might mean watches, horses, wallets, and the like.
But if one’s occupation was mage? The story changed a little.
Because throughout the ages, there had only ever been one overwhelming first-choice wannabe item for mages.
Artifacts.
Ultra-luxury dedicated items that only mages could use.
There was no need to describe how Danil felt after obtaining a chance to buy such a luxury item at half price.
‘So this is what it feels like to walk on air.’
Lying on the bed in his lodging, Danil hummed to himself.
“This is why big companies are great. Even indefinite-term contract workers get bonuses like this if they work diligently.”
The man, under a grand misunderstanding, flipped through the catalog.
With every page he turned, photos of magic tools boasting designs more gorgeous than luxury accessories decorated his eyes, each labeled as this year’s new product.
But Danil only skimmed them once and turned the page.
He merely whistled from time to time; his gaze never lingered for more than three seconds.
‘It needs to have cost-effectiveness. What’s the point of buying something just for showing off?’
An artifact that was disgustingly expensive and only absurdly decorative? It wasn’t that such things were bad.
It was simply that Danil’s conditions for a luxury item were different.
Practicality. He wanted a luxury item that would help him with his work.
A showpiece luxury item with no use whatsoever on a business trip? Of course he had no reason to be interested.
After turning pages that seemed to advertise, “This is stylish, so please buy it,” for quite a while, useful items finally began to appear.
“Hmm. An automatic shield deployment artifact. I like it, but the downside is that things like this break often. Oh. This one is—! ...Black mages can’t use it. What a shame. Hm?”
Danil’s hand, which had been flipping through the catalog, stopped.
“This one’s pretty good.”
It was a simple jeweled necklace made by processing a ruby the size of a child’s fist. The description read as follows.
“It can store mana at the level of the 3rd Circle. Not bad.”
That was equivalent to about thirty percent of Danil’s total mana capacity.
It was exactly the amount of mana consumed when summoning 108 imps all at once.
“To think I can summon Soma’s Legion one more time. Damn, that’s sweet.”
Danil immediately checked the price.
“Good grief.”
It was brutal.
Even with the 50% discount voucher, the amount written there would cut in half the savings account he had built over five years.
‘Fuck. It’s insanely expensive. What do I do? Should I pick something else that’s cheaper?’
That thought flashed through his mind, but his hesitation was brief.
‘Let’s go for it. If not now, when would I ever get to buy something like this?’
To one upon whom the god of impulse buying had descended, there was no such word as restraint. Danil was exactly in that state.
He closed his eyes, grinning from ear to ear.
Like a child on the eve of a picnic, he wished for tomorrow to come quickly.
*
Danil, who woke early in the morning, headed to the Magic Tower’s artifact atelier.
The atelier was the same as ever.
A pleasant fragrance drifted through the air, enough to make one wonder if it was a perfume shop, and the atmosphere was filled with mana so pure that most workshops couldn’t even compare.
Needless to say, the overwhelming visuals of the luxury artifacts that were the source of that mana were beyond description.
‘To think the day would come when I’d shop here.’
He was filled with fresh emotion.
The first day he entered the Foreign Legion.
He had once come to look around the atelier with his peers, saying they should at least see what kind of luxury goods only mages could wear.
The memory came back vividly: his eyes startled by the splendor of the artifacts, and his heart sinking at their prices.
‘How ironic. The peers who declared their ambitions to convert to regular employment no matter what and buy the artifacts here have all quit, and I’m the only one left.’
As all sorts of emotions crossed through Danil’s mind, a clerk approached him.
“Customer, are you looking for something?”
“Yes. I came to buy this.”
“Half-Dragon Heart. Confirmed. Please come this way.”
As he followed the clerk inward, Danil ran into someone.
It was a familiar face.
Luna, the new mage who had recently been assigned under Titania.
In short, a regular employee.
“Chief Danil. What brings you here?”
“I came to buy an artifact. What about you, Grade 8 Luna?”
“Me too. I had quite a good shopping trip.”
In the Magic Tower, titles were attached to ranks.
Indefinite-term contract workers? As you can see, they were all unified as “Chief.”
Whether one was a 4th Circle mage or a 5th Circle mage, there was no difference.
The corners of Luna’s lips rose.
“An artifact, you say. You know, don’t you? The things sold here are rather expensive.”
“Haha. Of course. I’m not a child. Would I come shopping without knowing the prices?”
“Hmmm. As long as you know. Do your best, then. I’ll be going.”
With smiling eyes, Luna followed the clerk’s guidance toward the counter.
At a glance, her mocking attitude was obvious.
The employee guiding Danil looked troubled, but Danil merely shrugged.
“Please continue guiding me.”
“Yes, yes! Please follow me.”
‘No, you really don’t have to worry that much.’
Seeing the employee act cautiously, Danil smiled bitterly.
It seemed they thought he must be angry at the new recruit’s arrogant attitude, but that was a misunderstanding.
Danil felt nothing toward her.
‘It’s not like this is my first time seeing high-and-mighty regular employees.’
That distinctive condescending gaze of regular employees. When working as an indefinite-term contract worker, one saw it dozens, hundreds of times.
Other indefinite-term contract workers got angry or cursed behind their backs, but Danil was different.
To begin with, he was a mage who had joined because he wanted to become an indefinite-term contract worker, and on top of that, he was a reincarnator who had come from the modern era, where discriminatory treatment was rampant.
What Luna had done was nothing more than a cute little prank from his position.
Moreover, he pitied Luna.
‘Why would I get angry at a kid who’s about to live such a hard life? I should feel sorry for her.’
The new recruits didn’t know, but he did.
He knew what kind of future would unfold for them once their eight-week adjustment period ended.
Glamorous work befitting a mage of the Magic Tower?
It was truly regrettable, but what awaited the new recruits was the Magic Tower version of a hardcore graduate student life where Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday-Thursday-Friday-Friday-Friday was the norm.
Research, records, experiments, reports, and all sorts of other miscellaneous tasks, day and night.
Naturally, they couldn’t leave work until the job was done.
That was the hell and the reality that would descend upon the new regular employees in a week.
They probably wouldn’t even be able to show their faces outside for a while.
The higher-ups of the Magic Tower weren’t merciful enough to give new recruits days off.
‘Tsk, tsk. Poor thing. And she’s pretty, too.’
Suddenly, he became curious about what she had bought.
When he quietly asked the clerk, the clerk showed him the item directly.
It was the complete opposite of the artifact he intended to buy.
The emerald necklace artifact, whose ratio of practicality to splendor was the exact inverse of his own, certainly had visuals overwhelming enough for women to like it.
‘But what’s the point? She’s confirmed to spend the near future eating, sleeping, and working in the Magic Tower.’
He wondered if she would even get a chance to show it off to anyone.
“Will I be able to see her in a year?”
“Did you say something?”
“No. Nothing.”
People did not know.
The darkness hidden behind the title of regular mage of the Magic Tower, a position that could rival that of an employee at a major corporation.
One of those shadows was the fact that a full forty percent of the Magic Tower’s new mages failed to last a year and resigned.
That was how absurdly brutal the workload placed on new recruits was, but not a single mage of the Magic Tower paid it much mind.
‘This atmosphere of “If you’re a mage of the Magic Tower—an elite—shouldn’t you naturally be able to do at least this much?” Really, wherever people live, it’s all the same.’
Thinking once more that it had been a good decision to become an indefinite-term contract worker, Danil hoped he would be able to see Luna again in a year.
The reason was nothing special. She was just pretty.
Praying for the well-being of the pitiful little lamb—a newcomer to society—who would fall into work hell in a week, Danil continued his shopping.