EP.18 Magic is No Joke
Having shouted that, the regressor reached out a hand. At that moment, his arm was severed at the elbow.
No, not severed. Looking again, the regressor had torn through space and thrust his hand into the rift. His arm above the elbow was visible, but below had vanished somewhere. As if sticking an arm out a window.
If there was a difference, it was that beyond was an empty void.
A personal subspace, a pocket. The regressor possessed a treasure one of a kind in the world.
The regressor rummaged once through the spatial rift and pulled out something round and hard.
“Alright! Let’s see just how well you teach!”
Ting— the object flew toward me. I reached out absentmindedly to catch it, but the heavy weight yanked my hand backward. It was an impact that nearly dragged my entire body along.
It felt like my ligaments had slightly stretched. Having barely caught it, I glared at the regressor and looked at the object in my hand.
And I doubted my eyes.
“Good heavens. It’s an alchemical gold coin. A high-purity alchemical coin with an alchemical value of over 10,000 alke. How did you...?”
In the era when alchemists freely transmuted matter, not only currency but even the value of objects fluctuated wildly, and people ceased to trust even their own assets. Even gold could not hold its value, and anxiety surged with the fear that the fortune in the vault might become a heap of scrap at any moment.
That was when this alchemical gold appeared like a comet.
It was currency of absolute value, minted from the very resources needed for alchemy.
The regressor, who had handed it over as if giving alms, replied with an indifferent expression.
“It’s my personal asset.”
“Wouldn't personal assets have been entirely seized the moment you were arrested?”
“It was inside my subspace item, the pocket. So they never noticed.”
The regressor dismissed it curtly.
A pocket, he says. Befitting a regressor who collects all sorts of treasures, even his pouch is a treasure beyond compare.
I buried my nose in the alchemical coin and sniffed.
“It wouldn’t be fake...”
“Would I carry around a counterfeit coin, lowering my status when I even own a pocket?”
That’s true. A pocket is a treasure so precious you couldn’t buy it even with a hundred alchemical coins. I hadn’t really doubted it. It was just part of my exclamation.
After all, an alchemical coin possesses value in itself, making it the hardest currency to counterfeit.
After alchemy became common, every nation on earth went to all lengths to prevent forged currency created by alchemy.
Naturally, the easiest method was to make the currency itself hold value. The representative case is this alchemical coin. The very substance composing an alchemical coin possesses tremendous value as an alchemical material.
Alchemical coins are accepted everywhere in the world and are also used as materials for magic circles. If one has knowledge of alchemy, they can disassemble this currency to craft magical tools.
Alchemical coins: the supreme currency that can be both liquidated and materialized simultaneously.
If it’s an alchemical price of 10,000 alke... perhaps I could even recreate the magical tools the military state stole from me!
“So, your answer?”
I put the gold coin in my pocket. And in that instant, I forgot about the coin.
By the law of the back alleys, the moment a gold coin enters the pocket, all previous grudges and favors vanish. There’s a reason for the saying about washing your face with gold dust.
“Aha! Did you think a proud instructor of the military state would be swayed by a bribe? Your miscalculation! Under the anti-graft law, I shall confiscate this money!”
The regressor burst into a baffled laugh and, pulling two more gold coins from thin air, shook them.
“If you teach Tirkanjaka properly, I’ll give you two more coins.”
“That aside, the truth is, I’ve been wanting to teach you about magic since I woke up this morning. It somehow felt like a magical day. Let’s start learning about magic today.”
That would be too much money to ignore. I immediately stepped up to the podium and finished preparing for the lesson.
Meanwhile, the regressor kept trying to convince the vampire of something.
“...Tirkanjaka, I’m telling you again, I didn’t not go—I chose not to go. Look at that. Even after graduating secondary school, one gold coin makes him dance to my tune...”
Whatever he says, I don’t care. I just need the gold coins in my pocket. Setting aside my pride for a moment, I started the lesson with a brazen face.
“Magic is essentially an act of overlaying rules upon the world... Saying that, you probably wouldn’t understand, right?”
What the vampire wants is simply to satisfy his curiosity anyway. Not the tedious path of learning from the basics. Let’s toss out the theory. I’ll explain as concisely as possible.
“The most important thing is to construct your own world. But, easy to say—can you just make it happen on command? So in secondary schools that ordinary people attend, they teach body-mediated magic. That’s because the body can be called a kind of world where inside and outside are completely separated.”
I raised a finger and drew up mana. I could feel the mana moving along my blood vessels. I swept my right hand once down my left arm, then tapped my palm as if playing a piano.
“There will now be a demonstration from a skilled instructor. Now, watch. Set, read, check.”
With just proper motions, incantation, and mana arrangement, even someone knowing nothing can manifest magic—the product of rationalism created by the military state.
Level 0 magic arts.
“Bolt.”
A current flashed from my index finger. After causing sparks in the air, I rubbed it against my arm to discharge.
“Fahrenheit.”
A flame flared on my middle finger. The flame refused to take form and spread in all directions, so I had to shake my finger to extinguish it.
“Aquus.”
My ring finger froze over. It’s a spell for gathering moisture, but the downside is that if careless, the finger freezes. I clasped it with my other hand to thaw it.
“Pascal.”
From my pinky, the air burst out with a pop.
Hah, the skills that got me ranked 1st in the entire secondary school (by using mind-reading) haven’t gone anywhere. I spread both arms and shouted proudly.
“This is the level. Body-mediated magic, fired through the fingers. It has the advantage of being usable even without constructing mental images!”
[...Um, but blood is coming from your fingers.]
The vampire cried out, pointing at my fingers. I turned to look at the fingers I had cast magic with.
My index finger, which had used electricity, was convulsing.
My middle finger, which had been bathed in flame, was charred black.
My ring finger, where ice had formed, was swollen and puffy.
My pinky, which had stirred the wind, was stained red and wrinkled.
Ah, tsk. Thinking about it again, it hurts. Four kinds of pain are felt simultaneously, indescribable.
But if I show that I’m in pain, I’d lose face, so I put on a bluff and said without changing my expression.
“I told you, didn’t I? Magic is the act of overlaying rules upon the world.”
[Indeed.]
“I overlayed rules using my body as the medium. The rule that static electricity occurs more strongly on my index finger, that flames ignite at a much lower temperature on my middle, that water clings more readily to my ring finger, that wind moves more fiercely on my pinky than usual.”
Basic magic that triggers the phenomenon itself only within a localized range. This is level 0 magic arts.
I spread my fingers to show the traces.
“These are the results.”
The vampire showed great curiosity.
[Indeed, it’s fascinating. But must the fingers invariably be injured?]
“It’s inevitable because the body is used as the medium. Where rules change, conflict inevitably occurs, and my body happened to be the boundary line. So I have no choice but to bear the cost.”
Hiding my smarting fingers behind my back, I continued the explanation.
“Body-mediated magic is thus imperfect. So ordinary people seek media other than the body. Some use objects like staffs or wands, others use familiars. Upon reaching mastery, they say one can manipulate the world itself, but I haven’t seen that far yet. It’s said that the more outstanding the skill, the wider the range of influence one can exert, and the more mystical and powerful phenomena one can cause.”
It was when I had finished explaining like that.
“Just secondary-school level education.”
By now, I’m gradually getting used to the regressor butting in. I shrugged and answered.
“Since it’s secondary-school level education, that’s what it is.”
“Right. It isn’t useful, it’s worthless. Even pitifully weak, at that.”
“Because it’s the basics. In mathematics terms, it’s the multiplication table level.”
“Right. You’ve certainly solidified the basics. For level 0 magic, the speed and completeness are astonishing. But in my opinion, you, who can only use body-mediated magic, don’t seem capable of showing anything beyond that.”
In his sneer full of swagger, childish superiority was evident.
No, wait. Could it be that a regressor is actually feeling competitive toward me right now? How absurd. You’re a pro who has repeated the same life thirteen times. I’m an amateur on the stage of my own life. If you want to compete with me, come find me fairly in a first-run state.
“Magic isn’t my specialty, you see.”
“Heh. I also haven’t majored in magic, but I can use up to tactical-grade magic arts, you know?”
“Ah. Is that so.”
“For you, phenomenon-grade magic arts are the end. Hehe. Could this be a difference in talent?”
Honestly, aren’t you ashamed? Do you really have to talk about magic you barely learned while dying several times like it’s your own talent?
Whether you have a conscience or not.
“If you had achieved that entirely on your own, then it would be a difference in talent.”
Looking at the regressor with cold eyes, I put in a word with some bite. At that, the regressor flinched and made excuses in his mind.
‘...Though it was learned at the cost of my life through regression. Still, regression is also an ability. There’s nothing wrong with showing off this much! Right, that’s it! Regression is an ability, a spec!’
Fortunately, at least he still has a conscience if he’s making excuses to himself. Someone truly without conscience doesn’t even justify themselves. In that sense, the regressor still seemed to possess some sense of shame.
The regressor ended it at that and turned toward the vampire.
“Tirkanjaka. I’ll teach you magic. I’ll definitely be better at magic than that guy.”
Then the vampire responded cautiously. As if asking such a question was truly a pity, but unavoidable.
[That, didn’t you say you only graduated from elementary school?]
“I told you, I just didn’t go because there was no need!”
[Ah, I see. Of course. It’s alright, child. I don’t mind at all.]
In the vampire’s own way, that was said out of consideration. But the consideration was so profound that the recipient noticed it too. The regressor’s hands trembled.
‘Now... I’m beginning to fiercely understand the feelings of that man who consistently treated the vampire like an old geezer...!’
I told you. In both a good sense and a bad sense, he’s an elder. The vampire glanced at me and drew out his words.
[Must you really go? If you’d just show it here...]
“Magic is my hidden ace, the world I’ve built up from the ground. It’s my power, but also my weakness. I can’t casually show it to others.”
[But you showed that fellow.]
“Don’t compare me with that! That’s military-state standard magic. It’s universal, usable by anyone who meets certain conditions! My magic is unique, that only I in this world can use!”
[Ah, um. Understood. I understand. Let’s go.]
The regressor stomped out of the room, and the pitch-black coffin floated lightly behind him. Yet he kept looking back at me with lingering feelings.
‘Isn’t magic that anyone can use... more remarkable? Hm. I do not know. So many things I do not understand.’
You clearly haven’t lived all these years for nothing. How wise.
‘Even so, I, who am already dead... could not use even that magic, I suppose.’
...Well, I hope the two of you work hard. The regressor may be excited about teaching magic, but it’s his freedom to be disappointed. For me, it’s fine since my workload decreased...
Huh? Wait a moment. I feel like I’ve forgotten something.
Ah, right. My money! My two alchemical coins!
I hurriedly rushed after them and shouted.
“Trainee Sei! You have to give me my money before you go!”
But the only reply that came back was in an annoyed tone.
“Tirkanjaka is going to learn from me now, so why should I give you money?”
“You said you’d give me two alchemical coins! Are you going to break the promise?”
“A promise?”
The regressor spun around, looked at me, and smirked.
“Let me give you one piece of advice. No matter who you made a promise with, no matter how much you were supposed to receive... until it enters your own pocket, it’s not your money.”
“What kind of nonsense is that! How can that be! If you said you’d give it, you have to give it!”
“Be satisfied with the advance payment. Even that is a lot of money... for someone like you, I mean.”
Leaving behind a faint smile, the regressor strode away with light steps.
If I had to put the thought I'm reading right now into the simplest word, it would be something like ‘nyah-nyah.’ Thoroughly aggravated, I huffed and stormed back into the training room.
“How dare they deceive me!”
I’m the one who pulls scams—I’ve never been the one getting scammed. And I’d even decided to just give them that thing up to the halfway point! But then, after listening to my lecture, they changed their mind!
The kind of people I hate most are fickle ones like that. People who don’t plan and just roll dice in their heads on a whim. How am I supposed to read someone whose thoughts change from one second to the next! Even the waves on a stormy night sea would be easier to figure out than them.
“Damn. To think I’d be on the receiving end of those words!”
For some reason, it makes me twice as angry. That was when I slammed the training room door shut.
“Woof.”
A discontented bark reached my ears. I turned my head. There, lying belly-down at the back, was Aji, still sulking and wagging his tail.
It was the classic sign—getting bored and wanting attention. Even without reading thoughts, a dog’s feelings are obvious.
Annoyed, I waved my hand dismissively.
“So what. What do you want.”
“Woof.”
“Today’s over. You go back to your room too.”
“Woof.”
“Why? Are you the only one in a bad mood? I’m in a bad mood too. And my finger hurts right now, so I’m not in the mood to play. So just...”
As I was answering gruffly, Aji rose from his spot and slowly approached me. He was still wearing his displeasure like a neon sign, but in the end, he came over.
What a creature with no pride. You’re saying, “I’m not in the wrong, but I want to make up,” right? And you expect me to humor you.
“Can’t you see my finger? I told you it’s hurt.”
I snapped, showing him my four fingers stained in different colors. Aji looked at them with a coy little expression, then leaned in and began licking my fingers.
“What? You’re licking it because it’s hurt?”
Aji didn’t answer and kept lapping. A slippery tongue licked up my fingers. A warm, squishy sensation massaged them. I was about to scowl fiercely, but seeing that gentle gesture, I relaxed my expression.
“You...”
Beasts lick their wounds. To prevent infection, because it itches, or because that’s all they can do.
But when it comes to the Beast King, a being of concept, the very act of licking carries tangible healing power. It’s said not to work on all wounds, but its efficacy surpasses that of applying a potion.
“You’re healing me.”
“Woof.”
Aji gave a small reply as he meticulously licked the remaining fingers. Perhaps because he’s a dog in essence but looks human, his small, plump tongue delved into every nook and cranny.
People often compare anger to fire, and it seems that isn’t without basis. Because as my fingers got wet, the pain and anger subsided.
Sigh. Fine. What’s the point of being angry.
“Yeah. A dog is better than a person.”
I withdrew my hand. Slimy saliva stretched out long. My fingers, glistening with drool, had already healed and returned to their original state.
A human’s greatest enemy is another human, and dogs have always been allies. I let out a chuckle.
“Yeah! So what if you sneak some food at night! If you’re hungry, you can eat. It’s food made for eating, right! Isn’t that right?”
“Woof.”
“Alright. I’m in the mood! Let’s crack open a can of meat today!”
“Meat?”
Aji’s eyes sparkled. As if his earlier sulking had been a lie, he perked up and rose to his feet.
“Yeah! Today’s lunch is meat!”
“Woof! I love meat!”
“Let’s go, to the cafeteria!”
“Awoooo!”
I followed after Aji, who was so excited he ran out first.
Forget the money I spent. If I efficiently decompose a single alchemical flame, I can make a whole deck of cards. If I’m lucky, I might even be able to enchant one.
And besides, the regressor will fail anyway. I’ll just collect with interest then.
Heading toward the cafeteria, I cheerfully opened the canned meat and cooked it with all sorts of skill. And then.
“You damn mutt! Stop picking out only the meat!”
“Yelp?! Awoooo!”
I’ve made up my mind. From now on, dog food is nothing but beans.