Chapter 47

Why isn’t this human giving me the money?

Leon Rothe Dale, a second-year student in the Department of Swordsmanship, felt his anxiety rising as he looked at the person sitting before him who was supposed to be his source of funds.

Until a moment ago, he thought this person was a messenger sent by a deity who pitied Syrup’s depletion, but his respect was waning by the second.

‘Time is already scarce as it is.’

…If he thought about it, time itself wasn’t something he lacked.

After all, Leon had spent the whole day sprawled out in opium smoke, only crawling out when 50,000 talers were mentioned. If it weren’t for that, he might still be wheezing, lamenting the miserable reality that left him with no choice but to find satisfaction in opium.

But Syrup didn’t have time like Leon did.

Not since Grandmother Chandler passed away and production halted.

Even worse, by royal decree, the consumption of Syrup had been publicly prohibited. Though it seemed like the Emperor did it out of spite for his daughter, Anais, the fact remained that it was now harder to carry around a Syrup bottle openly. The corrupt traders in the Department of Magic were using this as an excuse to jack up the prices.

‘I must buy it now. If I don’t, the price will rise even more…!’

The last time he purchased it, it cost 550 talers. The current market price had certainly increased. He needed to stockpile before prices climbed further.

And he needed to stockpile a lot.

Enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about his supply running out even if he consumed it daily. He intended to keep it all for himself and not share it with anyone.

For that, he needed 50,000 talers.

‘Surely, they aren’t using tricks to withhold the money, are they?’

If they were, he wouldn’t forgive them.

Even accounting for the inadvertent breach of etiquette, he could afford to give a little discount, but leaving without giving a single coin was unacceptable. It wasn’t as if Leon had approached this person asking for money; this person had come out of the blue, announcing they’d give it to him.

“Money…!”

Leon opened his mouth to prompt, but the funding source got a head start.

“I’ll give it to you. But there’s a condition.”

“What, again…!”

“It’s not difficult. It’s just… handing over 50,000 talers to a student who doesn’t even remember their benefactor’s name, that feels hesitant. Seeing you floundering in such a sorry state was also somewhat unpleasant. That’s why I want to test you.”

“Huh.”

To test him when time was already short?

His heart, which was already fluttering due to the effects of the drug, began to race even more.

Leon growled under his breath, but the funding source didn’t flinch. On the contrary, they smiled unpleasantly and eyed him up and down. If it weren’t for the money, Leon wouldn’t have associated with such a despicable person.

“Tell me, what’s the test?”

“Simple. Soon, I will give you some medicine.”

“…?”

“Morphine.”

“Eh?”

“Two Morphine tablets. I’ll also give you some Ephedrine, made as a trial for the First Princess. It’s a stronger drug than Syrup. …I’ve observed that you seem to enjoy combining drugs that produce an up-and-down effect.”

Morphine? Leon had heard about it from a friend.

Made from opium, it turned people who were gasping in agony from broken limbs into beings with serene, angelic expressions.

While Leon was aware it was a drug for seriously injured people, he had never imagined encountering it this way.

‘What would it feel like if I mix this with Syrup?’

And didn’t the benefactor also mention Ephedrine? So perhaps he should mix that too?

Until moments ago, he was genuinely anxious about the 50,000 talers.

But now, his anticipation for Morphine and Ephedrine had replaced that anxiety. Despite being intrigued by the mysterious benefactor who claimed to give him drugs, Leon first focused on maintaining his composure, realizing he should make a good impression.

At that, the sponsor spoke, clarifying,

“The drugs will be handed over today, but you shouldn’t take them. Keep them secure until the day after tomorrow. Then, bring them to the residence of Second Princess Siena, Temseugung Palace, which is where I work. If you return them to me at that time, I’ll immediately pay you 50,000 talers there.”

“Who exactly are you that you work in the palace?”

“Tell the guards ‘Alan.’ …I’ll reiterate for clarification. Don’t take the drugs; you must return them to me. If you show up empty-handed, the sponsorship is off. It shouldn’t be that hard, I think.”

It really was a simple condition.

They would provide drugs.

He shouldn’t take them but wait.

Then, he’d get the money.

‘What? It’s nothing at all!’

Leon nodded enthusiastically, agreeing.

Two days, that was all. He could just stick to his usual habits of opium and Syrup during this time. He could put the Morphine away in a drawer and forget about it.

“Yes! Benefactor!”

Leon responded confidently with a bright smile.

To show his gratitude to the benefactor who gave him such an enticing offer. The benefactor stared at him silently for a while before leaving.

Leon’s smile faded only after some time had passed since the benefactor’s departure.

…

Hours later, a delivery person arrived to see Leon.

It was a rough-looking errand boy named Bono.

“The Morphine and Ephedrine are here. Take them.”

How dare someone so low on the totem pole speak so rudely?

Though slight irritation rose within him, Leon decided to let it slide and took the offered drugs. In a small vial, there were just a few pills.

Compared to Syrup, whose colors were enough to stimulate the appetite, these pills were far less appealing.

‘Not even worth resisting!’

Leon snorted as he slipped the vial into his pocket.

Then, he returned to his dormitory.

Upon opening the door, he was greeted by a peculiar, stinging smell. Lying sprawled on the carpet were four students enveloped in opium smoke. There was a freshmen underclassman and a female student from another department—Leon didn’t even know their names.

He had no idea when or how they had infiltrated his space.

‘Who were these people again…?’

Shaking his head, Leon confirmed the vial in his pocket one more time.

His resolve to resist hadn’t wavered.

If he could endure for two days, 50,000 talers would be within his reach. Who would be stupid enough to fail the test? It was as simple as pretending he never received the drugs and forgetting them.

“I can hold out. I can hold out.”

Leon murmured these words to himself as he dived into the enveloping opium smoke. Accidentally stepping on an unknown friend’s foot, he didn’t pay it any heed.

**

I already knew how futile it was to give drugs to an addict and ask them to resist taking them.

Even if their parents knelt down and begged them, or their starving child stood beside them, a drug addict’s mind can only think of the next high.

The craving for an unfamiliar drug wouldn’t be any less; if anything, the thrill of the unknown pleasure would drive an addict insane.

How wonderful would this drug be? Already, Syrup and opium create a theater in the mind. Mixing these stronger drugs might feel like pure ecstasy. Maybe pretending afterward could suffice. Leon would surely be considering this very scenario.

This was the reason I offered a choice despite knowing all this.

‘Because there’s a chance he might resist.’

What if Leon showed surprising restraint and returned the drugs to me?

That would indicate some promising potential. It would mean he resisted, even with drugs in hand and despite having better options than what he was used to.

On the other hand, if he used the drugs, it wouldn’t be entirely unfavorable either. I was prepared to handle the elf-related issue then.

‘If it comes to that, I’ll proceed as planned.’

Of course, I couldn’t just sit around daydreaming until that time.

I also made preparations for the inevitable near future.

I placed massive orders for materials to produce solvents, delegated tasks to trustworthy staff to lighten my workload, and directed some nobles from Siena’s faction to monitor the movements of the church.

While at it, creating a prototype wouldn’t be a bad idea either.

But I didn’t have time for that.

“Excuse me, Sir Alan? There’s someone looking for you…”

A report from a military officer.

The fact that the visitor was referred to as a “person” was enough to hint at something unusual.

It either means they don’t look like a human or they don’t behave like one—possibly both. Upon hearing this, I already had a sense of who it might be.

The unexpected part was that the visitor arrived too early.

‘It’s not even morning yet?’

I had the drugs delivered via Bono just last night. I thought he could endure for a day with 50,000 talers in mind, but it seems he consumed them already, maybe even immediately after receiving them and spent the night concocting excuses.

Perhaps I’ll be facing someone even worse than I imagined.

I prepared mentally before heading to the guardhouse.

“Sir Alan, he’s right there.”

As it turned out, Leon Rothe Dale appeared more intact than I anticipated.

His hands weren’t trembling, his mouth was closed, his hair seemed clean. Of course, he wasn’t perfect—one glaring anomaly was his uniform paired with slippers.

What was most unsettling was the characteristic gaze of an addict.

A gaze that doesn’t focus on anything or anyone, betraying an uncertain stream of thoughts.

Even after I arrived, Leon simply stared into the distance, lost in a daze, which I found quite bothersome. So I snapped my fingers in front of his face to grab his attention.

“Leon. Look at me.”

Instead of reacting, Leon blankly stared at me.

He moved his lips a few times before finally uttering a flat voice.

“Sir Alan, I’m sorry for the state I was in yesterday. I learned you’re an extraordinary person from a friend. About the deal, my friends ate all the drugs. I didn’t fail to keep the agreement out of intention. It was my friends who secretly consumed it.”

“……”

“It’s true, my friend ate them. So please don’t cancel the sponsorship.”

After spewing this out, Leon averted his eyes, or rather, tilted them upward, as if proudly showcasing the whites of his eyes to me. What could I say…this was bizarre in every sense.

‘He finished them all in one night, as expected.’

Seeing that he was clearly not in a state for conversation, I promptly stated,

“Leon, if what you’re saying is true, I can give you 50,000 talers.”

“Wow!”

“But in return, I will ensure that you can never use Morphine, Ephedrine, or any ‘real’ drugs again for as long as you live. You won’t be able to find these drugs without my permission. If you’re okay with that, I’ll hand over the money now.”

Hearing this, Leon’s pupils centered and he looked directly at me.

Then, anxiously said,

“I’m sorry. I was the one who ate them. Not my friends, but me. All alone, I consumed Monglongyi and Bulongyi. I’ve made a huge mistake. You don’t have to give me money.”

Afterward, relentless apologies followed.

I’m sorry, I’ve made a mistake, please don’t cut off my drugs.

A quicker surrender than expected. And a more severe state than imagined.

The military officer who had guided me turned away, unable to bear the sight, but I couldn’t.

Because I had to contemplate Leon’s potential utility now that he had fallen into addiction. Even if it was just his remaining Swordsmanship Talent, I needed to find a way to make use of it.

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