As it turned out, when the Young Lady was in a good mood, everyone around her felt good too.
Leisiphia gave the maid behind her a look, and the maid asked as if she could read her mind, "Since the Custom Edition Game Table will take longer to make, could the Deluxe Edition Game Table be shipped sooner?"
So she was planning to buy a Deluxe Edition to play while she waited for the Custom Edition?
She hadn't even considered the Standard Edition!
Damn rich people!
Mithril grumbled to himself, then answered obediently, "The Deluxe Edition will probably go on sale in about three months."
"Three months... Then reserve fifty for me?"
"Meow?!"
Leisiphia smiled. "I'm planning to donate a Game Room to my school."
The problem was, we couldn't produce that many!
The biggest problem with alchemical products was insufficient output! Fifty units were practically our entire stock!
Mithril fell silent for two seconds, its ears twitching. "Your school is Cecilia Public School, right? If you want to build a Game Room for the Public School, I don't think you'll need that many Game Tables. Instead, have you seen the Magic Projection Screen and Leaderboard from our Workshop? They'd be much better suited to a Game Room... How about this: if you don't mind, we can design a luxurious Magic Game Room just for you."
"That would be wonderful." Leisiphia smiled behind her fan.
But such a large expense clearly meant nothing to the Young Lady.
She didn't even seem interested in learning the details of the project herself.
Leisiphia said, "I'll have my butler get in touch with you about the specifics. Sorry for the trouble."
*
Angell was also stunned by just how rich the Young Lady was.
He'd thought she was a fat sheep, but he hadn't expected her alone to be enough to keep an entire wool mill in business.
After Leisiphia left, Angell couldn't help asking:
"...So where exactly does the Roy Family get all its money?"
They were one of the three families that had built Cecilia City, just like us. Why were they so rich while we were on the verge of bankruptcy?
"You don't know?" Mithril asked in surprise, swishing its tail. "Back in the day, that chuunibyou from the Roy Family married the princess of his dreams, without knowing she weighed 130 kilograms. Even the Demon King fled after seeing her true face."
"..."
"Though the Hero seemed quite happy with the princess, the King was apparently afraid the Hero would secretly hold a grudge. So he gave the Roy Family nearly a century's worth of mining rights across the kingdom as the princess's dowry. The Hero of the Roy Family happened to have a special knack for finding treasure, so the Roy Family still controls some of the largest mines in the kingdom. Some even say they have a map of half the continent's mineral deposits."
"Now that's what I call having a mine in the family!" Angell said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
With a dowry like that, how could the Hero of the time have refused the princess? And how could the current prince refuse the Young Lady of the Roy Family?
Angell thought that if he could marry a wife like that, what would be the point of working hard? Wouldn't it be better to let her keep him?
"So if you want any materials, the Roy Family is the one to ask," Mithril said. "But don't squeeze them too hard. They're not stupid. Even the Young Lady knows you must need those materials to offer a Custom Edition."
That was right. Angell had made the list of materials for the Game Table based on his own needs. It had little to do with the Game Table itself.
It was an unspoken rule in the alchemy business.
"Oh, even if I didn't need anything, I'd still offer a Custom Edition." Why not make money when you could?
Mithril was more interested in what he planned to do with the materials. "Seriously, what experiment are you planning? Are you continuing the one you were doing in the Mage Tower?"
"...I'm going to put these contracts away," Angell said.
He gathered the papers on the table, wrapped himself in shadow, and vanished in an instant.
Seeing this, Mithril grumbled, "If you don't want to tell me, just say so! You're always sneaking away! It's not like I have to know."
As it said this, it stared at the spot where Angell had vanished for five minutes before finally realizing:
"Ah! He got away!"
*
After that, Angell refused to come out of his room, no matter what anyone said.
"I've used up a whole year's worth of SP!"
"What the heck is SP? Can't you talk to people like a normal person, meow?"
"Of course I can! People who can't communicate are the ones with social anxiety! I'm not sick!" I just don't want to talk to anyone.
Angell wrapped himself tightly in a blanket.
HP stood for health points, and MP stood for mana points, so SP had to mean social points.
Angell had forgotten where he'd read a theory in his previous life, but he'd thought it made some sense.
The theory said that people could be divided into extroverts and introverts. Extroverts generated SP by interacting with other people; the more people around them, the more energy they had. But when they were alone, they became anxious from lack of SP. Introverts were the opposite: talking to people used up their SP, and when it ran out, they became exhausted and wanted no interaction at all. They could recover SP only by spending quiet time alone—but spending too long alone wasn't good either, because their SP limit would decrease.
Angell figured he was the latter.
Of course, Angell knew his social skills were fine. Back when he was a concept artist, he'd had to communicate with stupid clients. When he switched to being a planner, he'd had to deal with stupid programmers and stupid artists. Once he became the Lead Planner, he had to communicate with stupid subordinates, stupid contractors, and the stupidest boss of all.
After every conversation, Angell needed some time to recover.
Life was much easier when he hid away in the Mage Tower in this life. In a place like that, he could go a whole year without seeing a single normal living creature. Angell had comfortably shut himself away for over a century and nearly forgotten how to speak. His defenses were naturally at rock bottom. It was only thanks to Mithril and Enlise over these past two months that he'd managed to rehabilitate himself, and even then, the results weren't great.
If he could, Angell would shut himself away for another hundred years to recover.
Unfortunately, the outside world was cruel beyond measure.
Mithril called for ages, but when it couldn't get Angell out, and the next few visitors weren't very important, it simply handled them all by itself.
It even helped Angell choose a few reliable merchants to sell the Game Tables directly. Mithril thought relying on Thornmoon, a single Blood Elf, was far too risky.
In that respect, Mithril made a very reliable Secretary Cat.
But on the second day after the opening celebration, a few guests finally arrived whom Mithril couldn't entertain alone.
"You can't skip this one!" Mithril leaped out of Angell's shadow, claws bared. "The visitors are the mayor of Cecilia City, the Branch President of the Cecilia branch of the Magic Association, and a magic agent from the Eastern Territory Education Bureau!"
"Haven't I already met most of them?" Angell was writing up a proposal for a new game and didn't want to move at all.
Mithril had no choice but to bite the hem of his clothes and tug him toward the door. "Those were informal meetings. Now they've identified themselves, so you have to give them a proper welcome."
"Tch, what a hassle." Angell reluctantly stood up, with no intention of changing his clothes.
Two of the three had already seen what he normally looked like, so dressing up seemed pointless.
(Mithril: Who said that! It's a matter of courtesy!)
Angell asked, "What do those people want? To collect taxes?"
"Why would the mayor come in person to collect taxes?" Mithril retorted. "And bring the Magic Association and the Department of Education with him?"
"Then did Enlise do something wrong?" Angell's expression grew serious.
Mithril gave him a cold look in return. "What could a good, well-behaved girl like Enlise do to get the Magic Association and the Education Bureau involved?"
"Get possessed by the Demon King?"
"Do you think she's you?!" Mithril bristled.
Do I seem like I'm possessed by the Demon King?
Feeling unfairly accused, Angell followed Mithril to meet the guests.
*
"We'd like to order Game Tables!"
In the reception room, two thin old men with silver hair and balding heads said in unison.
Angell was taken aback by their enthusiasm.
But the two old men didn't wait for him to say anything. They launched straight into their pitch.
"The Game Table from your Workshop is a truly great invention!"
"That's right! It can even help people meditate!"
"We think it'll be very effective at getting children interested in magic."
"So we're planning to buy a large number!"
"Name your price!"
"Name your price!"
Were these two parrots?
Angell wondered, stunned. They were talking so fast that his brain couldn't keep up.
Even Mayor Owen, who had come with them, thought it was absurd.
Owen tried to squeeze his chubby body into the corner of the sofa, hoping to distance himself from the two overly excited old men, especially after hearing their almost-repetitive dialogue.
Owen rolled his eyes. "I was the one who sent you here, but did you really have to be in such a hurry?"
"You don't understand!" said Hume, the Branch President of the Magic Association. "It's so hard to get people interested in magic these days!"
"Exactly!" Agent John Arms of the Eastern Territory Education Bureau chimed in.
He was a short man, only 1.53 meters tall. With a little Gnome blood in his ancestry, he had large eyes and a ruddy complexion, and seemed especially expressive.
Agent John spoke very quickly. "Do you know how much effort we've put into getting children interested in magic over the years? We've organized and refined the entire history of magic, had a Grand Mage who specializes in forbidden spells write a Rune textbook, come up with all kinds of exams every year, and set aside special funding, all just to get those children to spend more time on their textbooks."
...Wasn't that exactly why the children weren't interested?
Angell thought.
If he'd had to memorize a Magic History textbook as thick as a brick before he could learn magic, he'd have given up immediately too.
Unfortunately, the short Education Bureau agent didn't see it that way. As he spoke, his eyes turned red. He pulled a large floral handkerchief from Hume's robe pocket, wiped his eyes, and blew his nose loudly.
Hume had originally wanted to snatch his handkerchief back, but gave up when he saw the state John was in.
He, too, was feeling a little emotional.
"It's been so long since I've seen people interested in magical items! The last time was over eighty years ago, during the last Demon Race invasion, when people rushed to buy mana shields. The King's army defeated the Demon Race in the end, but those shields still protected plenty of people. Now, though, the children don't even have enough mana to activate them."
Hume sighed deeply. "For that reason alone, I think we have to preserve the legacy of magic!"
As they spoke, the two old men turned their red eyes and noses toward Angell. The sight was so pitiful that Angell could hardly bear to look.
He turned his gaze away behind his bangs.
Angell's spokesperson, the Black Cat Mithril, said awkwardly, "Our Workshop is happy to receive your order, meow, but if the Education Bureau is ordering, we can't produce that many at once."
In fact, the Young Lady Leisiphia's order had already nearly maxed out the Workshop's production capacity.
After all, the Workshop had only just hired a few Rune Apprentices.
But the two old men looked a little embarrassed at Mithril's words.
They realized that their overexcited demeanor had given the Workshop the wrong idea.
They looked at each other, and in the end, Hume, the Branch President, said sheepishly, "As for production... you don't need to worry just yet. We do want to make a large purchase, but we actually want to run a small-scale trial first, at one or two schools, to see whether these Game Tables can get children interested in learning magic..."
Then why had you made such a big deal about it?!
I thought the Education Bureau was placing a huge order, meow! In the end, you're not just buying less than the Young Lady, you're even ordering less than the merchants who came by earlier.
Mithril wanted to spit right in their faces.
Agent John noticed the Black Cat's disdain and added with a cheerful smile, "But if it works well, I'll do my best to persuade the Department of Education to make a large purchase!"
In other words, even if the trial went well, there was no guarantee they'd buy more afterward?
I really shouldn't have expected anything from these government officials.
Mithril immediately lost interest.
It pulled a page from the earlier documents and handed it to the two old men. "From what you've said, you only need to build a Game Room in one school, like the one the Roy Family's Young Lady plans to donate to Cecilia Public School?"
"Oh? Cecilia Public School is getting one already?" Agent John asked with interest.
"That's right." Mithril sensed something was up, and warily stared at the short old man with its mismatched eyes. "You're not going to say that means you won't buy one, are you?"
"...Of course not," Agent John said with a smile. "Noble education is different from education for commoners. We can't treat them all the same. We'll definitely add a Game Room to a Charity School."
But then he turned and murmured to Hume, the Branch President:
"But it's so expensive!"
"Wait, let me check... Isn't there a Standard Edition here?"
"True, the Standard Edition should be good enough! The children at Charity Schools aren't as hard to please as those young masters and young ladies at Public Schools!"
"Good thing they're buying their own!"
"Exactly!"
As Mithril listened to the two old men muttering, it turned a cold gaze toward Mayor Owen on the other side of the sofa.
Mayor Owen looked just as disdainfully at the two stingy old men, but when he noticed Mithril's gaze, he immediately waved his hand. "Don't look at me. I only came with them!"
"You're not planning to buy anything?" Mithril asked.
"As mayor of Cecilia, how could I indulge in frivolous entertainment?" Owen said righteously. "Of course, I support the Alchemy Workshop. If you run into any trouble, feel free to come to me!"
Meow, what an empty promise!
Mithril finally understood why Angell hadn't wanted to meet the guests.
Even a cat didn't want to deal with guests who were so important yet so stingy.
Unfortunately, the two tightfisted old men couldn't hear Mithril's thoughts—or, more accurately, they wouldn't have cared if they could.
Hume, the Branch President, put on his reading glasses and carefully went over every word of the document with Agent John. Then he suddenly asked, "Wait, this says 'Official Edition.' Does that mean the one in the store is an incomplete Test Edition?"
"That's right, meow." Mithril nodded.
"Then would the Test Edition be cheaper?" Agent John asked.
"The Test Edition isn't for sale!" Mithril nearly wanted to scratch the two old men's faces.
"But we can rent them out for different venues," it said, forcing itself to stay calm despite its anger. "Each game costs 150 cents. You can also sign a license agreement with us."
A glint of insight flashed in Agent John's eyes.
He said, "It wouldn't be right to make the children pay, would it? If these Test Editions are going to be phased out anyway, wouldn't it be better to donate a batch to the Charity Schools?"
Did he not want to pay a single cent?
Mithril was barely able to hold its cat shape anymore. "Even if they're Test Editions, they aren't outdated products."
"But..."
"How about we use another solution?"
At that moment, Angell finally spoke, stopping Agent John from saying something even more infuriating to Mithril.
Agent John still looked unwilling to give in, but a cold aura wrapped around him, making him shiver. He looked furious and was about to say something, but Hume, the Branch President, abruptly tugged at him and pointed to the ground.
Agent John lowered his head angrily, and his expression froze.
At some point, pitch-black shadows had completely covered the floor beneath their seats. They were like an abyss, ready to swallow them whole at any moment.
Only then did Agent John realize that they were facing more than just the owner of an Alchemy Workshop. They were facing a Black Robe.
A Black Robe who cared least of all about human life.
John shivered and finally shut his mouth.
Angell finally looked away and said, "I'm glad you're interested in purchasing Game Tables, but I don't think they're actually suitable for schools, whether the Official Edition or the Test Edition!"
"How can we know without trying them?" Branch President Hume asked impatiently.
He had come because he saw how Game Tables could train people in meditation, and he was genuinely interested in buying them.
—Of course, he was just as serious about getting a discount.
Hume glared at Agent John. "If this is about my rude attitude just now, I can apologize! I'll order Game Tables for ten schools, in the Magic Association's name."
Agent John looked indignant and glared back.
But perhaps he was simply glad the Department of Education wouldn't have to pay. He didn't object to the offer.
"But as a 'game,' it's probably not a good idea to let children use them," Angell said.
Hume frowned, ready to argue, but Mayor Owen caught the implication in his words. "Then what's the other option you mentioned?"
"Mana Base Station."
"Mana... Chicken Station?" Mayor Owen looked completely bewildered.
"Ah, sorry. I just blurted out the name I came up with," Angell said. "It's actually a Mana Well."
"A Mana Well?" Mayor Owen and Branch President Hume exchanged a glance.
They certainly knew what Mana Wells were.
On this Plane, some regions had abundant Mana, while others were mana-poor. In general, Mana wasn't static; it drifted throughout the world like wind and water.
During the Magic Era, Mages built devices called "Mana Wells" in mana-rich areas to replenish their Mana more quickly, drawing it up as one might draw water from a well.
But these devices were extremely expensive, and their upkeep cost a great deal, so they gradually fell into disuse in modern times.
Branch President Hume said, "A Mana Well would be too expensive, wouldn't it? And it wouldn't suit children..."
"Right, which is why this isn't an ordinary Mana Well. 'Mana Pool' would be a better name," Angell said. "It's my own research. The principle is similar to that of an ordinary Mana Well, but it costs less and produces less Mana—not enough for more than a few Mages to use. However, within the Mana Pool's area, Mana becomes much more concentrated. With simple Runes, people can cast spells. I can create a few games similar to the Game Table, but with a stronger educational focus—magical toys that children can use to practice meditation."
"...Then how much would it cost?" Branch President Hume asked hesitantly.
"Since this is my personal magical research, I'm willing to cover the cost," Angell said. "But I need the kingdom's administrators, the Magic Association's leadership, and the Department of Education to sign a formal Magic Agreement with me, acknowledging that all future research results and any wealth it generates will belong to me, Angell Cecilia!"
Hearing this, the three people present all looked doubtful.
The Black Robe across from him, however, only gave a sinister smile. "Still, I think you'll need this Magic Agreement more than I will. After all, you wouldn't want me experimenting on children in ways that could harm their minds and bodies, would you?"
"Would you do that?" Owen asked.
He stood up, his stout body seeming immense. His eyes turned a dangerous crimson.
Angell made no promises. "That's why I said we both need safeguards!"
"We can also choose not to do business with a Black Robe!" Branch President Hume said.
Angell nodded. "Of course you can."
But no one present outright refused. Instead, they eyed Angell warily and exchanged glances. At last, Owen said:
"Please give us some time. We'll consider this carefully."