Chapter 20
“Not exactly. It’s just that in cases like this, it’s difficult to determine whether the scroll you brought never contained mana to begin with, or if the mana disappeared after the magic was properly activated. That’s why the Tower Master verifies it personally. The extremely faint mana present in the scroll could be a remnant of the original mana, or it could be residual mana from an external source. Right now, the only person who can accurately detect and distinguish that is the Tower Master himself.”
“Ah… I see.”
I leaned back in my chair, convinced.
Determining whether a scroll is truly defective or if someone is simply trying to scam with a normal one was trickier than I thought.
It’s something only Arwin, the magical prodigy blessed with the male lead’s buff, could handle.
Now that I think about it, in the original story, when describing Arwin’s magical abilities, it wasn’t just his aptitude for learning spells—it was also mentioned that he was exceptionally talented at detecting mana.
Truly a genius. No wonder he’s ranked number one on the continent.
Honestly, even though I came to the Tower, I never imagined I’d actually meet Arwin.
It’s not like visiting the Tower guarantees a meeting with the Tower Master—just as going to the imperial palace doesn’t automatically mean you meet the crown prince.
No matter how much you loiter around the Esvande Duke’s estate under your sister’s care, it doesn’t mean you’ll trigger a meeting flag with Kenis.
I furrowed my brows, deep in thought.
It should be fine to meet Arwin like this… Though it worries me that Evelyn isn’t here… Still, he wouldn’t just kill me. Yeah, think positively.
Arwin could decapitate a supporting character without blinking, but he wasn’t a senseless killer.
As long as I don’t give him a reason, even his arrogance can be managed.
From today onward, I decided to become a sly person who picks and chooses whom to provoke.
No messing with Arwin.
Just as I was making that resolve, Gandalf stood up and spoke.
“Ah, of course, we do not doubt Lady Rose. Considering the volume you purchase annually, how could we dare? It’s simply part of the formal procedures, so please do not take it to heart. I will contact the Tower Master now…”
Then he quickly walked away.
Absentmindedly, I waved goodbye, watching his long white hair sway… and then it hit me.
Huh? How did he know my name—Rose, the name I use when buying scrolls?
Did Gandalf go full second-job fate-reading mode? Hah, remarkable…!
Of course, that was a joke.
It wasn’t really surprising that he knew my identity. In an organization like the Tower, it would actually be more surprising if they didn’t have customer information.
Especially considering how expensive these scrolls are.
Sure, the idea that someone did a background check is a bit unnerving, but I’ve lived in a world where the moment you register on a site, all your personal information spreads across the continent. This is nothing.
While I was thinking that, the servant brought tea and snacks to the table.
Oh my…!
The tea was expected, but these colorful pastries… Their colors and forms were exquisite.
Feeling a rising fondness for the Tower, I reached for one of the pastries. The texture was delightful, and it was sweet but not overpowering.
All good, though I suppose preparing snacks like this meant I’d have to wait a while… Arwin probably won’t arrive for some time.
Whoosh.
“Customer?”
Nope.
“Waaah!!”
What the hell?!
Suddenly, someone appeared out of thin air and spoke to me at point-blank range.
Completely off guard, chewing on my snack, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
Seriously… I almost died of shock. I almost regretted not having life insurance!
Clutching my thumping heart, I turned my gaze to the crumbs of the pastry that had scattered in the air.
If you asked which pastry it was, I’d have to say—it was the one I’d just thrown.
In my panic, I had tossed the pastry at Arwin, who had appeared like a ghost, screaming as I did.
Before it even reached his face, the pastry stopped on its own and vanished with a crisp little “pshh.”
Haha… wow.
Though it was completely unintentional, I had just thrown my snack at the Tower Master. My heart racing, I awkwardly smiled.
Hopefully, that’s not a premonition of my future…
“Hmm.”
Luckily, Arwin seemed willing to overlook my little(?) mishap. He didn’t react, just scrutinized me—top to bottom—while I froze in embarrassment.
What… is he doing?
Thankfully, he didn’t look like he was contemplating whether to finish me off with a stab or a thrust.
Examining even my hair, Arwin muttered something inscrutable.
“Was it you, the customer?”
Huh?
Even though there was a question mark, it wasn’t something I could answer.
Confused, I raised my eyebrows, but Arwin didn’t care and muttered another thing only he seemed to understand.
“They said a million gold would call me here.”
Oh… That makes sense. Did I really spend that much?
While caught in a weird standoff with Arwin, suddenly someone else rushed in.
It was Gandalf, who had vanished just moments ago, now approaching frantically, looking flustered.
Ah, right. He went to contact Arwin… So, this means Arwin flew here as soon as he got the message?
“You arrived… remarkably fast.”
“You told me to come quickly, didn’t you?”
“….”
Based on the original story, I could guess what Gandalf must be thinking.
“When did you even hear my words?”
Arwin, don’t torment our dear Gandalf.
Arwin turned his attention back to me.
I had stepped back a few paces from my precious chair, ensuring a safe distance.
Up close, this guy is really not good for my heart.
Meeting my eyes from a safe distance, Arwin looked surprised.
“What a fun coincidence. So this famous top-tier customer who gave the Tower a million gold was you?”
“That….”
Gandalf’s face froze at the mention of his VVIP client. He glanced at me nervously, trying to gauge my reaction.
Why does Arwin use demonstrative pronouns instead of normal personal ones? Does he consider everyone else an object?
What really caught my attention, though, was the subtle nuance in Arwin’s words—it felt like he actually knew me. Was I imagining it?
“Tower Master, this is an important customer. You should treat them… better.”
“Have you seen how I treat customers so far?”
“…Not exactly.”
Gandalf hesitated, embarrassed by Arwin’s brazen reply.
Poor Gandalf. It’s fine, I understand.
Arwin treats the emperor with the same casual disrespect.
No wonder the kings of other countries avoid inviting the Tower Master to events—blood pressure issues aside, he wouldn’t come willingly anyway.
So asking for special treatment from Arwin is absurd.
“Treat them?”
“Huh?”
What?
“Should I treat you? Speak up.”
What is he scheming?
It was a sudden question. I didn’t answer, just studied his angelic face, trying to read his intentions.
While I hesitated, Arwin continued.
“Actually, I am treating you quite well even now. You know that, right? Throwing things at me like this.”
He picked up a pastry from the table.
Oh… yeah, that’s true.
Keeping alive someone who just threw a pastry at his face is pretty generous.
I half-wondered whether to applaud his excellent customer treatment and smiled.
Anyway, you can’t spit on a smiling face… well, maybe not. Kenis would boil in rage if I made a move.
“Tell me. Should I treat you?”
Arwin asked again. I couldn’t delay my answer any longer. I responded.
“Yes, please. I want the utmost treatment.”
“Good.”
Arwin smiled. With that smile, the atmosphere around him felt purified.
But even in front of that angelic smile, I couldn’t shake my growing unease.
Am I really okay? Surely “treatment” doesn’t mean something like a mob euphemism for bodily harm, right?
Given Arwin’s character, I couldn’t relax.
Next to me, Gandalf looked utterly confused about how things were unfolding.
“You can speak casually, customer. I won’t kill you.”
“…!”
Gandalf looked more shocked than I did at this unorthodox generosity. His eyes were about to pop.
But usually, does speaking casually mean he kills you?
“Besides, I won’t normally kill, so don’t worry.”
Normally… meaning if it’s not normal, he might kill?
I hesitated, wondering whether to be grateful that Arwin’s “utmost treatment” equates to “not beheading me.”
Anyway, if what he says is true, I’m lucky. I just dodged a dead-end without Evelyn’s shield.
…But how?
I didn’t understand. It didn’t seem like he was showing mercy because I’m a top customer. Could he remember Evelyn introducing me as a friend?
“Tower Master, what… is going on here?”
Gandalf asked, dumbfounded, on my behalf.
Arwin replied as if it were obvious.
“It’s funny.”
“Excuse me?”
“Funny, so I like it. Funny customers are precious.”
I don’t understand his language. He keeps speaking in riddles only he can comprehend.
When did he even see me to call me funny? Does he mean I’m literally ridiculous-looking? Wait…
Something clicked. I narrowed my eyes in thought.
Could it be… Arwin…
“Did you give me the scroll?”
The short question made Gandalf widen his eyes.
Don’t worry. He said he won’t kill.
Arwin calmly answered my question, omitting when, where, or how.
“Consider it a viewing fee.”
Ah, that makes sense.
Now I understand. The teleport scroll I thought I got by luck was actually a gift… hmm, “gift” doesn’t fit. Yes, a charitable offering from Arwin.
He must have watched my dramatic performance by chance and tossed me a scroll.
Wow… generous.
So that’s why he calls me a funny customer. My life’s drama is amusing to him?
“…Anyway, Tower Master, now that you’re here, please verify this.”
“What’s this?”
“The defective scroll I mentioned over the communication channel.”
“Defective?”
Arwin accepted the two broken teleport scrolls I handed him, his expression slightly frowning.
The Chinese-scented scrolls briefly flared with sparks in his hands and turned to ash.
…He burned my evidence?
Before I could react, Arwin spoke.
“What idiot made such a basic scroll like this? Couldn’t even put a bit of mana in paper? Who’s that useless guy?”
Gandalf looked like he desperately wanted to protest his master’s harsh critique.
Honestly, I don’t think making a teleport scroll is such a “basic” or “trivial” task.
But I guess that’s just his standard, huh, genius magician?
