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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Chaos
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“Hmm… Mmm…”
Elena was groaning in the Chief Professor’s research room.
Her research was hitting a wall. Spread out on the table were eleven ancient inscriptions. Her task was to find the correlations between them.
Having studied ancient inscriptions across the world, she knew there was a connection.
“There has to be a meaning…”
That connection was a character, a character with a specific meaning. But deciphering it was proving difficult. The ancient inscriptions were encrypted.
Or rather, intricately woven.
If it were a simple cipher, she could unlock all the inscriptions by identifying the pattern. But each inscription had a different encryption pattern, making it incredibly complex.
It was like trying to unlock eleven different locks, each with a unique key.
“Haa… I could really use a cigarette.”
Despite the tedious work, Elena couldn’t give up.
These eleven ancient inscriptions held the secrets of the world. They were part of the “Book of Truth.”
As a magic scholar obsessed with inscriptions and the pursuit of knowledge, deciphering them was her calling.
“Unnie.”
A clear, youthful voice called out to her. She turned to see Sephilia sprawled on the sofa, looking bored.
“Why do you keep saying you want a cigarette? You don’t even smoke.”
So, that’s what she was curious about.
“Just… I feel like it would be refreshing.”
“…But you’ve never smoked.”
“Yeah. It’s weird, I just crave one. Even though I know it probably wouldn’t be that great…”
Sephilia stared at Elena, baffled by her nonsensical reply.
Elena often said and did strange things, even after knowing each other for thirteen years.
‘The more I get to know you, the more confusing you become. Well, that’s what makes you interesting.’
But Sephilia adored Elena.
She loved everything about her: how she craved cigarettes without ever smoking, how she missed her cat, Wayongi, but left it at the mansion, how she had become a ruthless warrior during the Great War seven years ago, and how she had wept uncontrollably, battling depression after returning.
Elena was never boring.
Sephilia always wanted to be with her, to be pampered by her.
‘Now it’s not just Unnie…’
Lately, there was someone else.
Edgar Fix — the first commoner in history to be granted the title of Count.
She felt an inexplicable attraction towards him, a desire to tease him, to see how he would react.
“You’re thinking about something mischievous again, aren’t you? If it’s something I have to clean up, you’re in trouble.”
Elena narrowed her eyes, her usual absentmindedness replaced by a sharp gaze.
Despite her usual obliviousness, she could read Sephilia like a book, especially in these situations.
Sixteen years of friendship had its perks. Sometimes, it was almost eerie.
“I’m booooored~~~~!”
Thwarted from teasing Edgar, Sephilia flopped back onto the sofa.
Elena was engrossed in her research, and she feared Elena’s wrath if she bothered Edgar.
Despite being the Emperor’s daughter, Sephilia felt inferior to Elena, having been raised by her.
‘I need something to do.’
She was royalty, the inheritor of the Crimson Demon Eyes.
No one could stand above her, and that made all human interaction tedious. Except for Elena and Edgar, no one, no matter how talented or skilled, captured her interest.
‘As long as I don’t cause too much trouble…’
The answer was Edgar Fix, one of the few people who could alleviate her boredom.
A mischievous smile spread across her face as she began plotting.
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I pondered for a while. What should I do with these students groveling at my feet?
“Ah!”
An idea struck me. A mutually beneficial solution.
“What’s your name?”
I asked the student standing in front of me, one of Max’s cronies who had been particularly vocal in his criticism.
“M-Me? D-David… David Arsen.”
David Arsen. The name sounded familiar. He was one of the students who had been defeated alongside Max in the first evaluation.
I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“You’ll be the president.”
“…Huh?”
“The club president. You’ll be the club president.”
“…?”
He looked at me, confused. It seems further explanation was needed.
“I want your labor. That’s why I’m creating a club. Do you understand?”
“…?”
I wanted to use them as free labor. But he still didn’t seem to grasp my meaning.
Not just David, but all the students bowing before me wore the same bewildered expression.
They were even more dimwitted than I had thought.
Then again, if they were smart, they wouldn’t have antagonized me in the first place.
“Sigh. Let me be blunt. I want to use you as free labor. But I can’t just order fellow students around. So, you’ll all join my club. Then I can use you for ‘club activities.’”
“······”
Realization dawned on them, and they stared at me in shock, their expressions screaming, “Is this really you?”
“D-Does that make any sense? Using us as labor! You said you’d forgive us! But this is just unreasonable—!”
“You’re the unreasonable ones.”
“W-What?”
“You’re begging for forgiveness just to save your own skin. You’re not truly sorry. You just want to avoid my potential retaliation. Am I wrong?”
“······”
They fell silent, their faces contorted in frustration. It seems I had hit a nerve.
“So, I’m offering a deal. I forgive you, and in return, you provide me with your labor.”
They exchanged glances, their fists clenched.
“T-That’s an unfair deal!” one of them shouted, pointing at me.
An unfair deal? I raised an eyebrow.
“How can we trust you’ll actually forgive us if we join? You could just use us and then discard us!”
Ah, so that’s what he meant. A valid point, but shortsighted.
“I guess I have to explain everything in detail.”
“…What?”
“Let me explain. You want my forgiveness for two reasons. First, to avoid my wrath. Second, to avoid pressure from your families. Now that I’m a Count, your fathers are probably pressuring you.”
I was now at the center of shifting power dynamics.
Not only had I received the title of “Salvation” from the Dwarven Allied Kingdom, but I had also been granted the title of Count for my diplomatic achievements, solidifying my position in the noble society.
The nobles were now scrambling to connect with me. The fathers of these imbeciles were likely doing the same.
‘But their sons screwed up.’
Their sons had ostracized Edgar Fix.
Their fathers’ reactions were predictable: “Get his forgiveness, no matter the cost.”
“······”
They remained silent, their lips pressed together. I had exposed their ulterior motives.
“So, I’m giving you an opportunity. A chance to join my club. Imagine telling your fathers that you’re in the same club as me. What do you think their reaction would be?”
“…Ah!”
“Exactly. They’d calm down a bit. And they’d encourage you to befriend me, to invite me to your family estates. They want to connect with me.”
“······”
They nodded.
“Then… could you visit my estate? My father is furious!”
One of them pleaded, his face crumpled in distress. He was one of the students who had relentlessly mocked me.
It seemed his father had been particularly harsh.
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On your behavior in my club. If you follow my orders, I’ll consider it.”
Whether he was punished or not was irrelevant to me. They had to show some sincerity.
“I’ll select seven of you. The seven who are most obedient. I’ll accept their invitations. And if you perform well, I’ll put in a good word for you. Then your fathers might forgive you, or even look favorably upon you.”
A father’s, or rather, a family head’s evaluation was paramount to a noble’s offspring. A positive assessment increased their chances of inheriting the title and the estate.
“Well, if you don’t want to, don’t. I don’t have to help you—”
“I’ll join! No! Please let me join!”
“M-Me too! If I don’t make amends this time, my father will really…!”
“I’ll join too!”
Before I could finish, they were all clamoring to join my club. Seventeen free laborers. Not the brightest bunch, but seventeen extra pairs of hands were certainly useful.
“Alright. But you have to follow my every order. Can you do that?”
“Of course!”
“Just tell us what to do.”
“As long as it’s not too difficult…! I’ll give it a try!”
They were eager and motivated. Good. I had the funds and the manpower. Now I could build my research lab.
Fix could oversee the construction, and these students could handle the menial tasks.
“Um… what’s the club’s name? What do we do?”
One of them asked about the club’s name. I hadn’t thought of one yet.
“I just came up with it. The official name is quite long, so listen carefully.”
I took a breath, preparing myself for the lengthy title.
“A Gathering of Those Who Study New Existing Orders by Focusing on the Perspective of Vision in Mechanical Discoveries.”
“…?”
As expected, they looked confused. Good. The club’s purpose should be ambiguous. That way, I could use them for anything.
“It’s a bit long, isn’t it? You can just call it ‘SIBALSAEGI’ for short.”[1]
“…Huh?”
“Just the first syllables. It’s easier to remember, right?”
The SIBALSAEGI members stared at me blankly.
Regardless, I had secured seventeen slaves.
They would help with the lab construction and acquire various mechanical skills to assist me.
With the right mix of carrot and stick, I could create my own otherworldly Korean graduate students.
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[1] The abbreviation 시발새기 (Shibal Sae-gi) combines the first syllables of the Korean title but phonetically mimics a crude term (similar to “f*cking squad”).
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