Chae Eun–woo had a grasp on Vanitas's financial matters.
Vanitas Astrea had invested heavily in commoner businesses—ventures he deemed profitable.
For how he managed to even convince them to sell their stakes, one can only imagine.
'Persuasion.'
To the commoners, a Viscount Family suddenly appearing at their doorsteps must have felt like both a blessing and a curse.
Blessing, because who wouldn't want the financial backing of a noble?
Curse, because it came with strings attached.
Vanitas likely used his status to its fullest extent, leveraging both fear and allure.
The contractual terms itself was all he needed to come up with this conjecture.
Chae Eun-woo read through the terms, noting the subtle but undeniable signs of manipulation.
Hidden clauses were buried in the fine print.
Clauses that granted Vanitas control over operations.
Clauses that gave him the authority to veto decisions.
Clauses that allowed him to dissolve partnerships at his discretion.
'Ruthless,'
But it wasn't just the contracts that were predatory.
It was the execution.
Vanitas had a knack for targeting businesses that were on the cusp of success but lacked the resources to push further.
Thanks to this, however, Chae Eun-woo found himself starting off with a considerable accumulation of wealth.
[320,677,449 Rend.]
Since the developers were South Korean, a single Rend was equivalent to a single Korean won.
Not so creative.
"Professor?"
"Ah?"
Vanitas broke out of his thoughts, noticing the sinister grin creeping up on his features.
'....I'm doing it again.'
Every day, it felt like a piece of Chae Eun-woo was slipping away.
Karina, standing beside his desk, tilted her head slightly. Her eyes flickered between him and the paper he was holding.
"About this student's answer. Isn't it… incorrect? Or, at the very least, not related to the topic?" Karina asked.
"Not just incorrect. It's completely off–topic."
"Do you know what he's writing about?" Karina asked, tilting her head as she pointed to the scribbles on the paper.
Vanitas furrowed his brows, scanning the lines.
"...."
His expression froze.
[∎Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down….]
He set the paper down slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Forget it. Mark it as zero."
Karina immediately complied, writing a neat zero in the corner of the paper.
She glanced at Vanitas, who was now staring at the ceiling with an unreadable expression.
"...."
As Vanitas continued checking his own set of papers, his brows raised at a certain student's paper.
[∎Ezra Kaelus]
Ezra's answer was phenomenal.
Vanitas leaned back in his chair, scanning the details written messily. Ezra's penmanship was questionable.
But regardless of that, each spell listed was not only accurate but also came with thorough explanations for their ranks and classifications.
Vanitas's lips curled slightly, impressed despite himself.
Vanitas set the paper aside, his gaze sharpening.
"Ezra Kaelus…."
Karina, who was sorting through the remaining papers, noticed his tone.
"Another problem, Professor?" she asked.
"No," Vanitas replied. "Quite the opposite."
He tapped the paper lightly against the desk.
"...."
Vanitas paused, the memory clicking into place.
He now understood why Ezra didn't have a textbook.
How could he forget? It was a minor detail buried in the early stages of the game.
Without hesitation, Vanitas pulled out a cheque.
He wrote it swiftly.
"Karina," he called, setting the cheque down on the desk.
"Yes, Professor?"
Vanitas slid the cheque toward her without looking up. "Take this to the administration office. Submit it anonymously."
Karina blinked, picking up the cheque. Her eyes widened as she read the amount.
"Ah? This is—"
"Just do it. And make sure they know it's for Ezra Kaelus."
Karina didn't press further.
She nodded, tucking the cheque into her folder. "I'll handle it right away."
As she left the room, Vanitas leaned back in his chair.
Ezra Kaelus.
The one closest to a player.
A worthy investment.
***
To– Tok—!
A sudden knock on the door broke Ezra out of his study session.
Ezra ruffled his hair, irritated. Who the hell could it be?
He had no lectures until 3:30 P.M. and, more importantly, he had no friends.
"Probably someone looking for my roommate," Ezra pushed himself off the bed and approached the door.
He opened the door. Standing there was a staff member in official University attire.
"Ezra Kaelus?"
Ezra blinked. "Yeah?"
"You're needed at the administration office. Immediately."
"Administration office? Why?"
Cold sweat beaded from his forehead. It was only the second day, and the administration had already called for him.
The staff member didn't elaborate.
"It's important. Please follow me."
Ezra sighed and followed the staff.
The walk to the administration building was quiet, with the staff member saying nothing beyond their initial interaction.
'Did I mess up already?'
'No…. I haven't done anything. At least, nothing too concerning!'
When they arrived, the staff member gestured toward the main office.
"Inside. They'll explain."
Ezra nodded, stepping into the office.
A clerk behind the desk greeted him with a polite smile. "Ah, Mr. Kaelus. Thank you for coming."
"Yes? What's this about? Did I do something? I don't think I've crossed someone enough for them to complain—"
"No, nothing of the sort."
"....Okay."
The clerk handed him a sealed envelope.
"This is for you. It was submitted anonymously but specified for your use."
Ezra hesitated before taking the envelope.
Riiip—
He broke the seal and pulled out the contents
A cheque.
His eyes widened as he stared at the amount.
"500,000 Rend?"
The words slipped out before he could stop himself.
He stared at the cheque like it might combust in his hands.
Immediately his first thoughts were, "Is this a prank?"
The clerk shook their head. "It's been verified and cleared. No mistakes."
Ezra blinked, clutching the cheque tightly. "You're telling me someone just gave me 500,000 Rend? For free?"
"That's correct. You're free to use it as needed."
"Do you know who sent it?"
The clerk shook their head again. "As I mentioned, it was submitted anonymously."
"...."
Soon after, Ezra stepped outside the administration office in a daze.
"I'm not dreaming, am I?"
500,000 Rend.
Ezra pinched himself, only to groan in pain soon after.
500,000 Rend.
Ezra glanced at the cheque once more, realizing the absurd amount, a commoner like him, normally could only dream of.
500,000 Rend.
The numbers kept repeating in his mind.
His chest tightened.
Who?
What kind of psycho would do this?
Who could even afford to!?
He was a commoner, a nobody who'd managed to rank first in the ESAT exams by what he believed was pure luck.
The nobles didn't hesitate to make their thoughts known.
Murmurs, stares, disdain.
Mistake.
They didn't say it out loud, but Ezra could see it in their eyes.
His success wasn't real to them.
He didn't belong.
His legs felt weak as he stumbled back to his dorm room, collapsing onto the bed.
The cheque crinkled in his hand, and he stared at it again.
500,000 Rend.
The amount felt incomprehensible.
It wasn't just money.
It was hope.
His shoulders sagged as he thought about his grandmother.
Her hands were always rough, with cracks from years of hard work.
Her body was already frail from laboring far past her limits.
She worked tirelessly to ensure he could live, eat, and study.
Even with the scholarship covering tuition, the monthly allowances she scraped together were barely enough.
And he had done nothing for her.
Nothing to lighten her burden.
Until now.
Ezra clutched the cheque tighter, his fingers trembling.
This would change everything.
His grandmother wouldn't have to take extra shifts anymore.
She didn't have to push herself further for his sake.
"Huu…."
A lump formed in his throat, his chest aching with every breath.
His mind felt hollow.
Ezra curled forward, clutching the cheque to his chest.
All the weight, the exhaustion, the guilt—made his heart grow heavy.
He was thankful.
Thankful his grandmother could finally breathe without the constant weight of financial burdens.
Thankful for the opportunity, even in the face of the aristocrats' disdain and opposition.
And thankful for a kindness that felt almost too unreal to believe.
Minutes passed.
The emotions within him subsided, leaving behind a calm that felt comforting for the first time in ages.
Ezra leaned back against the wall with a faint smile spreading across his features.
The cheque rested on his lap, its edges crumpled from his grip.
He didn't know who had given him this chance.
But in that moment, he made a promise.
To his grandmother.
To himself.
And to whoever had believed in him enough to give him this chance.
***
A week later.
An auction was held in Anemoi, a city not far from the capital.
Vanitas, who had reserved an exclusive invitation, arrived at the grand hall, accompanied by his butler, Evan.
Not long after, the attendants approached, bowing deeply before escorting them to the VIP seating area.
There was a VVIP section, but it was reserved strictly for Marquess and Duke households.
Vanitas didn't mind.
He preferred to observe from a slightly less conspicuous position.
Once seated, an attendant handed him the auction catalog.
Vanitas flipped through it casually, his eyes scanning the listings.
"Oh?"
His gaze paused on a seemingly insignificant item.
A small, unassuming crystal shard labeled as Ethereal Fragment.
Its description was vague, marked as a rare item with hidden properties. Most probably, for marketing purposes.
Vanitas's smirk widened.
'They don't know what they're holding.'
In the game, the Ethereal Fragment was nearly worthless. But not until the mid-point of the storyline, when it became a vital component for crafting a Sovereign-tier staff.
Vanitas tapped the listing lightly.
'I'll take this for a bargain.'
He continued flipping through the catalog.
Another entry caught his attention.
An enchanted ring labeled Crimson Band.
Vanitas activated his spectacles discreetly.
———「Crimson Band」———
◆ Enchantment: Lesser Fire Resistance
◆ Effect: Mana Amplification when exposed to volcanic environments. ————————————
'A future gem.'
In the game, the ring became highly sought after for its synergy with magma-based spells.
Its value would skyrocket once its hidden properties were revealed.
Vanitas's gaze drifted to the next item.
A Silverleaf Grimoire, listed as a low-grade spellbook containing rudimentary healing spells.
He adjusted his glasses again.
———「Silverleaf Grimoire」———
◆ Tier: Advanced
◆ Effect: Accelerates mana recovery over extended use.
————————————
Vanitas chuckled quietly.
'These fools don't know what they have.'
Evan leaned in slightly. "My Lord, is everything satisfactory?"
Vanitas nodded, setting the catalog aside.
"Better than satisfactory."
Flick—
The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the auction.
Vanitas leaned forward with anticipation.
As a player, collecting these artifacts were what made the game exciting.
The first item, a simple set of enchanted daggers, was brought to the stage.
Bidding began, but Vanitas paid it no mind.
He was waiting for the real prizes.
When the Ethereal Fragment appeared, Vanitas's lips curled into a smile.
No one in the room seemed particularly interested.
The bidding started low. It felt almost insulting for something of its future value.
"Do I hear 100,000 Rend?" the auctioneer called.
Silence.
Vanitas raised his paddle.
"100,000."
The auctioneer nodded, relief washing over him. "100,000 Rend. Any higher?"
Another raised their paddle.
Then another, then another.
Until eventually, it was sold for 230,000 Rend.
"Going once. Going twice. Sold for 230,000 Rend!"
Vanitas leaned back, winning the bid as satisfaction washed over him.
He knew the game well.
And this was only the beginning.
Naturally, as a member of the Imperial Family, Astrid received an invitation to the auction.
As someone who appreciated the finer things in life, she couldn't resist attending.
Accompanied by her trusted guard, Nicolas Machiavelli, Astrid arrived at the grand hall.
Nicolas, a distinguished knight from the Crusade of the Round Tables, walked a step behind her.
The attendants bowed deeply as Astrid entered.
"Welcome, Your Highness. Your private booth has been prepared."
Astrid nodded curtly, sweeping past them with a regal air.
Her golden hair shimmered under the chandeliers, catching the attention of several attendees.
She had grown accustomed to the stares.
Once seated in her private booth, Astrid picked up the auction catalog.
She flipped through the pages lazily.
"Your Highness, should I arrange for anything in particular?" Nicolas asked, standing at attention nearby.
"Not yet," Astrid replied. "Let's see if anything catches my eye."
Her gaze settled on a listing.
A rare piece of jewelry.
Its description boasted a brilliant aesthetic and minor magical properties.
"Hmm. This could be worth something."
Astrid's attention flickered to the next page.
Her smirk faltered slightly as her eyes landed on a peculiar entry.
Ethereal Fragment.
"What's this?" she murmured, tilting her head.
The description was vague. As if the auctioneers didn't know what it was even for. Yet marketed it to the best they could without seeming like a scam.
And truth be told, it looked like nothing but a pretty rock.
But something about it piqued her interest.
"Nicolas," she called.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"What do you make of this?" She handed him the catalog.
He studied the entry briefly "It appears insignificant, Your Highness. Perhaps an attempt to fill the catalog."
Astrid's lips pursed.
She wasn't entirely convinced.
"Place a bid on it if the price doesn't rise too high," she ordered. "I want to examine it myself."
"As you wish," Nicolas said, bowing slightly.
Flick—
The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the auction.
Astrid leaned back in her chair, one hand resting under her chin.
The first few items were unremarkable in her eyes, and her bids remained absent.
When the Ethereal Fragment finally appeared on stage, Astrid's focus sharpened.
The bidding began low, as expected.
"Do I hear 300,000 Rend?" the auctioneer called.
A single paddle was raised.
"302,000."
Astrid's brows lifted as she turned toward the bidder.
It was a man seated in the VIP section, accompanied by a butler.
However, Astrid couldn't make out his appearance due to the dark.
Nicolas stepped forward. "Shall I place a counterbid, Your Highness?"
"No. Let him have it."
Nicolas hesitated but obeyed.
Astrid leaned back in her seat, her curiosity piqued.
As the bidding continued, she watched the figure in the VIP section raise their paddle again, securing the item.
Astrid, meanwhile, had claimed the items she desired without much trouble.
Still, something felt peculiar.
There were far more remarkable items up for grabs, ones that had sparked fierce bidding wars among the aristocrats.
But the figure in the VIP section remained indifferent.
He—or perhaps she—never joined the fray.
Instead, the mysterious bidder raised their paddle only for items others deemed useless.
The room began to buzz with murmurs.
—Who is that?
—Some weirdo, probably.
—What's the point of bidding on junk?
Curiosity got the better of some.
A few bidders began countering the mysterious figure's bids, just for the sake of provocation.
The tension escalated.
Yet, despite the growing opposition, the figure never wavered.
Each time a rival raised the bid, the mysterious bidder retaliated without hesitation.
—1,100,000 Rend?
—Oh? Do I hear 1,200,000?
Even as the price climbed to absurd heights for seemingly insignificant items, the figure refused to back down.
The crowd watched in silence as the figure secured yet another "worthless" artifact.
Astrid's eyes narrowed in curiosity.
"Interesting," she murmured under her breath.
Nicolas, standing at her side, leaned in slightly. "Your Highness?"
"That person," Astrid gestured toward the VIP section. "I want to know who they are."
"Shall I make inquiries?" Nicolas asked.
"Later," Astrid said, her gaze still fixed on the figure. "For now, let's watch."
As the auction continued, the mysterious figure's pattern became clear.
They weren't interested in value. At least, not the kind recognized by the average bidder.
No, they sought something different.
Meaning hidden beneath the surface.
And that realization sent a chill down Astrid's spine.
Her gaze locked onto the next insignificant item listed—a plain-looking gemstone, described simply as "unpolished."
"Nicolas, place a bid," she ordered.
Nicolas hesitated for only a moment before raising their paddle. "20,000 Rend."
—1,100,000 Rend. Do I hear 1,200,000?
Another paddle shot up.
The mysterious figure.
—1,300,000 Rend.
Astrid's lips curled into a smirk. "Raise it."
"1,400,000 Rend," Nicolas called.
The room stirred with murmurs. Aristocrats who had been silent thus far began whispering amongst themselves.
Another paddle rose. "1,500,000."
"1,700,000" Nicolas countered immediately.
—1,700,000 Rend. Do I hear 2,000,000?"
Curiosity spread through the hall, and several aristocrats began raising their paddles, intrigued by the sudden bidding war.
"2,000,000."
"2,100,000."
"2,200,000 Rend."
The bidding surged higher, faster, even.
Astrid leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Keep going."
Nicolas complied calmly. "2,300,000 Rend."
Gasps echoed throughout the room. For a mere unpolished gemstone?
Yet, despite the ridiculous price, paddles continued to rise.
"2,400,000 Rend."
"2,600,000 Rend."
The mysterious figure countered without hesitation and raised their paddle high.
"2,800,000 Rend."
Astrid's smirk widened. "They're relentless. Let's see how far they're willing to go."
"2,900,000 Rend," Nicolas announced.
The aristocrats began to drop out one by one. The absurdity of the bidding war was too much for even their egos to justify.
By the time the price ascended way beyond the initial bidding, only two bidders remained.
Astrid.
And the mysterious figure.
"8.8 million," the figure declared.
"8.9 million," Nicolas shot back.
The hall fell silent with heavy tension. All eyes darted between the VIP section and Astrid's private booth.
The figure raised their paddle once more. "9 million Rend."
Astrid chuckled softly "Raise it."
Nicolas hesitated. "Your Highness, this is—"
"Do it."
"9.1 million Rend," Nicolas called.
The mysterious figure didn't flinch as their paddle rose immediately. "9.2 million."
Astrid's heart raced, not with fear or hesitation, but with exhilaration.
"9.3 million Rend," Nicolas declared.
A collective gasp filled the room.
The figure in the VIP section leaned forward slightly. Their paddle rose for what felt like the final time.
"9.8 million Rend."
"...."
Silence.
Even the auctioneer seemed to hold their breath.
"...."
Astrid's eyes narrowed. Her lips parted as if to speak, but she stopped herself.
"Your Highness?" Nicolas prompted.
A beat passed.
Astrid smiled faintly. "Let them have it."
The auctioneer slammed the gavel. "Sold! To the bidder in the VIP section for 9.8 million Rend."
Clap. Clap. Clap…!
The room erupted into murmurs and applause, but Astrid remained calm.
Her gaze locked onto the mysterious figure, and her interest skyrocketed.
"They're no ordinary bidder," she murmured to herself. "I'll find out who they are soon enough."
***
Vanitas walked out of the hall, rubbing his temples.
The final bid still lingered in his mind.
He hadn't expected to blow past the budget he set for himself.
But it couldn't be helped.
The item was worth every Rend.
In any case, the auctioneer had promised delivery within a few days. Still, the item had been archived within his spectacles as soon as his gaze landed on it.
———「Coin of Resonance」———
◆ Description: A key forged by ancient alchemists. Enables the wielder to unlock Essence Vaults, hidden chambers filled with rare spell formulas and mana-infused treasures.
◆ Current Status: Dormant.
It was an unassuming tarnished coin with worn edges and its surface, scratched.
To the other bidders, it was nothing more than a peculiar trinket.
But to Vanitas, it was a treasure.
A key.
As a player, Vanitas knew of the item's true purpose.
It was a key used to access hidden vaults scattered across the world. Vaults that contained relics, spells, and knowledge that had been lost to time.
In other words, it could be a lead he needed.
The Archives of Haven.
"Professor."
A voice rang out from behind him. Vanitas turned around slowly, his gaze meeting her golden eyes.
There, Princess Astrid Barielle Aetherion stood.
Beside her was a knight clad in light armor with the insignia of the Crusade of the Round Tables.
The Crusade of the Round Tables was an NPC support unit group the players could call upon completion of a specific act.
"Princess Astrid."
Vanitas knew who the bidder he was up against. It didn't take a genius to know which aristocrat would throw money out of amusement in a chamber far above the VVIP.
He wasn't sure which Princess it was, of course. But the encounter confirmed his conjectures.
"So," she began, "you were the one."
"It seems so, Princess."
"Lower your head, Vanitas," the knight beside her demanded.
Vanitas turned his gaze to the knight, his brow furrowing slightly. The man's voice carried a tinge of animosity.
Of course, Vanitas knew who he was, but what he didn't know was his relationship to the knight.
Astrid glanced at her escort in surprise. "Nicolas?"
The knight—Nicolas Machiavelli—stepped forward.
"So it really is you. I never thought I'd see the day."
"...."
In times like these, when he didn't have a grasp on information, it was better to remain silent.
Astrid's gaze flicked between them with interest.
"Do you two know each other?"
"Yes, Princess," Nicolas said with a nod. "We were in the same batch during our university years—he in the Magic Department, and I in the Crusade Department."
"Really? You never told me that. Why not?"
"I didn't think it was important." Then his gaze shifted back to Vanitas. "But wait, Princess, you called him Professor, didn't you?"
"That's correct. He's my Professor."
Nicolas blinked, clearly surprised at Vanitas. "You? Teaching?"
"For four years now. Is that so surprising?" Vanitas said.
"Wha—Four years!?" Nicolas exclaimed, nearly choking on his words.
"Where have you been? Living under a rock?"
Nicolas frowned, crossing his arms. "I've been stationed in the northern borders since graduation. News doesn't travel well when you're fending off beasts."
"Is that so?"
"Enough," Astrid interjected.
Her gaze then shifted to Vanitas, "Professor, if I may ask, why did you bid for those items?"
Vanitas's expression didn't waver. "Because I saw value in them."
"Value?" Astrid tilted her head, skeptical. "Most of those items seemed insignificant, though?"
"To the untrained eye, perhaps."
Astrid's eyes narrowed. "Then enlighten me. What makes them valuable to you?"
Vanitas hesitated, thinking about his response.
Sharing too much could draw unwanted attention, but dismissing her outright might pique her curiosity further.
"They are tools, Your Highness," he said. "And every tool has its purpose, whether it's immediately apparent or not."
"....I see." Astrid's tone was neutral, but her gaze told him she was clearly unsatisfied.
Nicolas shifted uncomfortably beside her. "Tools, huh? Just like what you called our team before you used us as bait."
"...."
Vanitas's expression remained composed, but his eyes flickered briefly toward Nicolas.
"It was a needed sacrifice, Nicolas," he said.
"Needed—You! We failed those exams because of you!"
Vanitas raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you graduated, didn't you? I'd say it worked out."
"Cold hearted bastard! Margaret had to repeat a year because of y—"
"Enough, Nicolas," Astrid interjected.
Nicolas froze, his words caught in his throat.
Vanitas on the other hand, rummaged his thoughts at the mention of 'Margaret.'
However, before he could question Nicolas, the Princess spoke.
"In any case," Astrid said, her gaze shifting to Vanitas. "This was an interesting lesson, Professor. I look forward to your lecture on Monday."
With a small nod, she turned on her heel with graceful regal.
"Let's go, Nicolas," she called over her shoulder.
Nicolas lingered for a moment, fixing his glare on Vanitas.
"You haven't changed as much as you think."
"Margaret. Do you mean Margaret Illenia?" Vanitas genuinely asked, causing Nicolas to pause right beside him.
"Who else? Thanks to the grades I accumulated, I managed to graduate. But Margaret…."
Nicolas clenched his fist.
"...."
Vanitas merely remained quiet, and Nicolas walked past him, his armor clinking softly on the marbled floor.
Watching his departing back, Vanitas clutched his forehead.
The continuous usage of the spectacle left him with an unbearable migraine.
"Nicolas Machiavelli, huh?"
If his memory served right, Nicolas Machiavelli was a mid–game boss.
However, that was an act that would occur in the future.
The problem was, he hadn't foreseen Nicolas's relationship with Vanitas Astrea. Taking his behavior and tonality when the Princess was right behind him, it was clear there was more than meets the eye.
At this rate, who knows what kind of stories Nicolas would share with the Princess regarding him?
Vanitas clenched his fist, feeling his nails dug in his skin.
He had to make a better impression on the Princess soon. She needed to trust him.
"Tsk," he clicked his tongue.
Old grudges were a nuisance, especially when they weren't his fault.
Especially whatever issue he had with Margaret Illenia.
After all, Margaret Illenia was the Crusade responsible for Vanitas's exile in the game.
"I need to look into this."
As Vanitas headed for the car, where his butler, Evan was waiting, his thoughts drifted to the conversation with Nicolas.
If someone barked at him, Vanitas saw no reason to bark back.
He didn't plan on becoming a push–over.
Not in this life.
"Never again."
Adjusting his blazer, Vanitas got into the car and left shortly after.
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