Chapter Forty-Two: Twenty Points

"The Academy probably thinks the same way. After all, I have never heard of any newly enrolled correspondence ring-術士 being granted a Secret Keeper-class [Relic] right off the bat."

Dr. Schneider also agreed with Miss Louisa's view. When fate is involved, ring-術士s tend to be quite cautious.

Just staring at that die gave Sieve a strong urge to pluck it out from its embedded mount. Fortunately, the die remained contained, and Sieve easily resisted the temptation.

Even so, he rested a finger on the die, wanting to feel its cold metallic texture.

Inside his mind, the murmuring woman's voice suddenly rang out:

[Though the path of fate forks beneath your feet, if there are useful tools at hand, choosing a suitable road is by no means wrong. From 1 to 20, and then from 20 to 1, you see your peculiar destiny in the tumbling die. Right now is precisely the time to toss the die...]

"Are you certain you want me to roll the die right now?"

Sieve asked back in surprise, and the whisper sounded in his ear once more:

[Outlander, when you set foot upon this path of fate, the power of choice has always remained in your hands. Yet sometimes, sensible experimentation allows you to more fully comprehend your destiny. Through my vision, I have seen something interesting for you. Do you possess the courage to challenge luck?]

Sieve thought for a moment. He was well aware that his "other self" possessed extraordinary traits. Whether this stemmed from the outlander's nature or some flaw in the entity itself remained unknown, but every action of the murmuring voice thus far had proven trustworthy. Though filled with apprehension and suspicion toward a world dominated by mystery and bizarreness, Sieve was willing to offer a measure of trust from time to time.

Before the doctor and the others could object, he pinched the die and let it fall onto the coffee table.

The sound of the metal die striking the wooden table startled everyone present. Yet the die quickly came to rest, with the number "20" facing upward. Sieve did not feel particularly surprised; he merely heard the melodious laughter of the woman in his ear.

[Though you constantly refuse to believe it, I am simply you.]

All four of them stared at the number without speaking. After a long moment, the doctor offered a solemn reminder:

"It's a 20 this time... This is a [Relic] belonging to you, and we have no right to interfere. But I must remind you, Sieve, people are not always so fortunate. This impulse has brought you a gift of fate, but next time might not be the same."

"Every gift bestowed by fate has long since had its price tag attached. A 20 this time... will likely consume a vast amount of your luck. I have always firmly believed in the 'law of conservation of luck'."

Miss Louisa chimed in as well, though Old Priest August, a clergyman, pointed out that the conservation of luck was a baseless superstition.

Sieve accepted these admonitions, but he had no intention of explaining his motives. The uniqueness of the woman's voice in his mind was a secret belonging exclusively to him—an attribute of the outlander. Knowing this much was sufficient; at least for now, he would not share this matter with anyone else.

The "good fortune" of rolling a 20 was not yet apparent, but based on the properties of the die, Sieve would learn of it sooner or later, so he merely needed to wait.

Once all the formalities of Sieve's official admission to the Academy were completed, the doctor uncorked a bottle of champagne to celebrate that their group finally had five members.

Sieve was not particularly fond of alcohol, but since it was a celebration, he did not decline. As the doctor poured drinks for everyone, Sieve curiously asked whether taking these books back and accidentally losing them would count as leaking Academy secrets. The doctor, however, told him not to worry:

"First-year textbooks and materials do not hold any precious value. It is not that this knowledge is unimportant, but rather that it can be acquired through other channels. Therefore, even if you lose them, you need only spend a few more pounds to purchase another set from the Academy. It is not until the second year that certain books are encrypted."

That put Sieve's mind at ease. The doctor, the writer, and the priest all encouraged Sieve in their capacities as seniors to study diligently, unanimously agreeing that his primary task now was to inscribe his first spirit rune.

"The course 'Theoretical Foundations of Spirit Runes (Part 1)' provides recommendations for inscribing your first rune based on a ring-術士's talent. What recommendation did the Academy give you? Is it [Light]?"

"Yes."

Sieve replied, flipping through the book in his hand.

"Generally speaking, the Academy advises inscribing elemental runes for the first spirit rune because it makes the process somewhat simpler. Since you already possess [Silver Moon], your affinity with [Light] and [Stars] is quite good, and you even independently created the [Illumination Spell]. But [Stars] is far too complex for a first-year student, so [Light] it is indeed."

The doctor laughed, then stood up, pulled a book from the stack, and handed it to it Sieve:

" *The Mad Light-Chaser* , a mad novel written by an unknown author during the Fifth Epoch, imbued with [Enlightenment] due to its civilizational resonance. This is a translated copy. Reading it to attempt inscription of [Light] is the most suitable method. Of course, very few people manage to acquire light directly; if you can obtain any extended-concept spirit rune derived from it, that is already considered passing."

Before today's gathering, the doctor had already shared news via letter with the rest of the group regarding Sieve's acquisition of the Sage-class [Relic] known as the [God's Box] and the Mercury Blood organization. They had all agreed to pay Sieve a fee of 1 pound each for this intelligence.

Sieve did not take the four pounds—which included the share belonging to Luvia Annette, who was currently not in Tobesk—but instead used the money to pay off part of his 10-pound debt for the month. The remaining 6 pounds would have to wait a little longer, as he still needed pounds to support himself and little Mia.

It was said that orange cats had quite healthy appetites, and Sieve had to prepare accordingly.

The doctor's efficiency was remarkably high. Before the morning meeting concluded, he brought Sieve another piece of good news:

"I checked with the real estate agency. Number 6 St. Delan Square—the entire three-story building, including the land—was originally the property of the late Detective Sparrow Hamilton. Did he leave behind a text of his final will?"

"He did. It's locked in my cabinet."

Sieve felt a daze of disbelief at this wonderful news, scarcely able to fathom that he had inherited an entire building. All the gloom that had weighed upon him since arriving in the steam age seemed to dissipate at this revelation. Deep down, he had not realized how intensely he yearned for a home of his own.

Priest August wore an ordinary expression, while Miss Louisa looked at Sieve in astonishment:

"Mr. Hamilton, you won't be lacking in pounds for the rest of your life."

"However."

Sieve did not let his joy run away with him prematurely; instead, he looked at the doctor, who continued with that exact conjunction. The doctor's expression turned conflicted, as if he did not quite know what tone to adopt:

"However, don't be too happy just yet. There is a problem with that house. Number 6 St. Delan Square was purchased by Sparrow Hamilton two years ago when he first arrived in Tobesk, for the price of 300 pounds."

"How could it be that cheap? Even if it's a haunted house, it wouldn't..."

Miss Louisa asked with a frown. Although 300 pounds was a considerable sum, this was Tobesk, the capital of the Delairian Kingdom—one of the two great human realms in the material world. Known as the Pearl of the North, the Foggy Capital, and the convergence point of Old World civilization, these were its monikers.

Furthermore, Number 6 St. Delan Square was a building complex from whose windows one could directly view the "Yodel Palace." The dirt there was worth more than gold.

The doctor ran a clinic, the priest lived in a church, and only the female writer currently lived alone in a rented apartment within the Tobesk university district, making her acutely sensitive to real estate prices. Excluding the land, a whole building located right in St. Delan Square—let alone 300 pounds—could not be bought for even twenty thousand pounds.