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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Just Good at the Honey Trap
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There's a principle: if you receive something, you have to give something back.
Once you've gained, you must lose—that's the way of the world.
I still had no idea why the imperial family had granted extra funding, but thanks to my hard carry, I'd managed to secure the blessing of "30x funding" anyway.
Out of that, shouldn't 95% go back to the person who earned it? That seems only fair.
But the Illusion Tower Lord apparently had objections to this fair distribution of funds.
"This... this is my tower...! The Illusion... Illusion Tower is my tower!"
"It's funding I brought in."
"That doesn't mean you... you get to hog it all!"
"Even with the remaining 5%, it's 1.5 times more than last year compared to before."
"It increased! But!"
Like a kid who'd received ten million won in New Year's money only for her merciless parents to leave her with just fifty thousand after promising, "We'll give it back when you're grown up," the Illusion Tower Lord flopped onto the floor and threw a full-blown tantrum.
"Our... our disciples... they were so excited that they wouldn't have to recycle those shabby magic stones anymore... now they could use low-grade ones instead of the lowest-grade... eek!"
As the Illusion Tower Lord sprinkled in a spoonful of that "desperate family head struggling to feed her kin" vibe, even my well-trained conscience started to sting a little. The seniors who'd joined the Illusion Magic Tower first were all pretty ragged-looking, after all.
On the day all the towers had gathered to scout me, every other tower lord had a swarm of attendants trailing behind them. They were all decked out in robes emblazoned with their towers' fancy emblems.
But not a single attendant was visible behind the Illusion Tower Lord. I'd thought maybe the Illusion Magic Tower mages were all outsiders who hated crowds, but nope—it turned out they just didn't have uniforms.
Yeah, the Illusion Magic Tower was so strapped for cash they didn't even have uniforms.
I'd even seen a senior licking bread crumbs off his plate to save on research expenses.
There was something heartbreaking about high-earning mages living so pathetically.
But if I gave in here... my own research would be delayed.
My heart-pounding, grand ambition: implementing virtual reality for TRPGs.
'Gotta spawn an insanely strong dragon so players can have an epic heroic battle and take it down in style.'
The whisper from deep inside me soaked into my heart.
Weren't the tears and suffering of the tower seniors just an unavoidable sacrifice?
Sensing the venomous glint in my eyes, the Illusion Tower Lord escalated to tantrum phase two.
She crawled over on her knees with a scratchy sound, latched onto my pant leg, and started whining pitifully.
"The fundiiiiing waaaaaah...!"
"Hm."
My resolve began to waver.
Did I really have to surrender my (provisional) research budget to the tower just like this?
At that moment, a bolt of inspiration flashed through my mind.
"The seniors are the ones who need the funding, right?"
"...Huh?"
"So if every single senior in the tower thinks, 'We don't need the funding,' then I wouldn't feel any guilt taking it all, correct?"
Will that even work?
That's what her mouth formed without a sound.
Mages have always been mad for research funds. Sure, the Illusion Magic Tower was relatively strapped, but they were still receiving imperial funding. Wasn't it weird that they were licking plates clean and skipping public outings because they had no uniforms?
They poured every penny meant for uniforms or tasty food straight into research. That's why they were broke.
People who want to dedicate their lives to creating something always have this obsessive streak.
Not quite on my level, but respectable enough to admire. They wouldn't give up research funds easily. But I had a surefire plan.
"Let's persuade the tower seniors. If I fail, I'll cleanly take just 50%."
"Yay...! Fifty percent...!"
She clearly didn't think I'd succeed even a little, already cheering in victory. She seemed so pleased that illusory soap bubbles started floating up around her.
Peering into one of the drifting bubbles, I glimpsed visions of the seniors trash-talking me: 'This psycho's eyeing my research funds!!' 'If you don't get out, I'll confess.'
When the Tower Lord was in a good mood, her imaginings sometimes leaked out like this.
If I blurted out my true feelings—"My research is more important, so I'll use 95% of the funds"—it'd end up just like those visions.
But it's a timeless truth across East and West: pretty people have higher powers of persuasion. There's even that proverb about how handsome or beautiful smiles make you tongue-tied. So the answer was obvious.
"Time for the honey trap."
"?"
Clap clap.
With a surge of willpower and mana, Heart-chan appeared behind me in a bizarre pose.
When summoning humanoid figures from behind, striking a weird pose is otaku etiquette worldwide.
The weakness of people holed up in a tower doing nothing but research was crystal clear: honey traps.
Compared to social butterflies out in the world building tolerance to temptation through friends and society, self-canned researchers had resistance as thin as paper...
Leading the charge here was the third revision of Heart-chan, the illusory NPC femme fatale who'd stirred the hearts of men across the continent.
The Illusion Tower Lord's face turned beet red.
"F-For funding, you're putting on an illusion disguise... to s-seduce your fellow male seniors...!!"
"Players and characters are separate, you know."
"B-But half the tower is... women! It... it won't work on them..."
"It would if it was just Heart-chan."
Where there are female characters, there are male ones too. Common sense.
Sure, there are weirdos who only roll female chars and run all-women TRPGs, but I pursue the natural harmony of yin and yang. How could I not have male chars?
Snap.
A mature middle-aged butler with a monocle and slicked-back hair.
Snap.
A haraguro—outwardly innocent but inwardly little devil—shorts-wearing shotacon butler.
Snap.
A slightly delinquent-looking magpie-haired young butler who grumbled but quietly cared for you and diligently worked.
Snap.
A suspiciously shady half-lidded butler with a sexy voice loaded with romance-fantasy dialogue.
"Milady, I've prepared continental northern coffee suited to this autumn weather."
"Milady, Milady! Not Joseph—try mine! The jasmine tea has steeped perfectly!"
"Hey, Lady Boss! You said it was bitter last time... so I put extra care into this one."
"Heh heh heh... Milady. Black tea infused with my own brand of affection. Will you accept it?"
"Hiii?!"
As the four butlers surrounded the Illusion Tower Lord and formed their "care for some tea?" encirclement, she trembled and shrank like a capybara caught in a trap.
Peeking down at her face, her cheeks were flushed with panic, but her quivering lips were curved upward. Even embarrassed, she was enjoying it.
Apparently one of the basic butler archetypes A, B, C, or D had hit the mark.
"Is there anywhere uncomfortable, milady? Tell this Joseph."
"Milady, your face is so red! Maybe a fever—let me check real quick..."
"Uh, if it's a cold, I got this scarf I just made. Here, for you, Lady Boss."
"They say colds heal faster if you pass them to someone else. If it's not too forward, allow me to take milady's cold... mouth to mouth—"
The Tower Lord's expression flashed 'Eww, gross,' so I immediately erased the half-lidded butler. Too much buttery flavor, maybe. The rest passed muster, and her face brightened again.
Ten minutes of merciless butler carpet-bombing and brainless head-pats later...
The Illusion Tower Lord had completely melted into a puddle.
"Test run complete."
I was confident. She might've been especially vulnerable, but even accounting for that, I could "persuade" the seniors just fine.
I snapped my fingers, and Heart and the butler brigade smartly filed into formation, marching off.
To extract vows of "I won't covet the research funding" from every soul in the tower.
"N-No... stooop...!"
The gooey Tower Lord mustered her last bit of energy and reached out a hand.
Her instincts had kicked in. She knew the tower would fall to my NPC legion at this rate.
But with her melted expression and wobbly legs, what could she even do?
All that was left for the Tower Lord was to savor her bliss like a fawn at night and watch the tower's conquest unfold. I pulled my hood low and lounged back on the sofa at my leisure.
The tower conquest took two days and two hours.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Two more years slipped by since I'd started my research after hogging all the funding for myself.
Those were idyllic days of cleverly thwarting the Illusion Tower Lord's nefarious schemes to steal my funds using illusion magic.
I was stuck on implementing automatic NPC control, which was giving me a headache. To create a realistic world, I needed at least ten NPCs. More was always better.
I couldn't keep manually puppeteering forever. I'd felt it keenly the day I manually controlled the butler legion—my head felt like it was going to explode.
They needed to move according to their preset personalities automatically. But I also needed to be able to hop in and take manual control in emergencies. Yeah... I needed AI tech.
Could I pull it off with illusion magic alone? Should I look into collaborating with other schools?
As my悩み deepened, the Illusion Tower Lord plopped down beside me.
In Korea, there's this "confession chair" that makes anyone who sits in it spill their family secrets. It's that peculiar atmosphere that loosens people's tongues.
Yeah, atmosphere.
I felt that kind of vibe.
The Illusion Tower Lord fell silent for a moment, then cautiously opened her mouth.
"...What kind of magic do you want to create?"
Her usual timid self had suddenly turned serious with that question, creating this moody atmosphere.
The kind of late-night mood where you unburden your heart and bare your soul.
I answered plainly.
"A world."
"This one... the world we're standing on right now... isn't enough?"
"If I beat around the bush, you won't get it."
"S-Smartass..."
The Tower Lord hemmed and hawed, then seemed to steel herself for a straight pitch.
Determination flashed in her round eyes. A core sturdy enough not to snap.
"You know... you've never once called me by name?"
"You're the Tower Lord."
"What about the others?"
"......"
Nope.
I didn't even remember, honestly.
It was a kind of mental illness. Other people's names just didn't stick with me.
They'd register for a second, then poof—gone before I knew it.
I'd wondered if it was a cursed reincarnation perk, so after joining the tower, I'd run all sorts of checks. Body, soul—all clean. No traces of curses. Pure mental illness, in other words.
I studied the girl's face, the one I could only remember as "Illusion Tower Lord."
That was the expression called sadness and worry.
"...S-Sometimes, very rarely... you don't seem alive. Like your heart's somewhere else."
"......"
She was right.
It was an unwanted reincarnation. Or a defective one full of flaws.
Better if I'd lost my past-life memories. I remember so much. The not-so-clean air, the pine scent from the hills behind home, Mom's soybean paste stew, the fried flounder sizzling away, raw beef liver strips with kimchi.
The split trash bags along the commute path, the streetlamp that took four flickers at night before lighting up.
The ex-girlfriend's photo still tucked away in my phone album. All my TRPG session records to date.
Yeah.
My soul was still lingering in 21st-century Korea.
"If... if it's something I can help with..."
"Want me to show you?"
"...Huh?"
"My old world. Want me to show it to you?"
The words slipped out on impulse, and the Illusion Tower Lord nodded.
And so my first "mastering" since reincarnating began.