When Asking for a Troublesome Favor, Pay Up

Sometimes, such original works exist.

There are cases where the original work belongs to an entirely different genre, but its setting is so interesting that it becomes a huge hit as a game or anime.

For example, it was fairly well known that the original work of a game that summoned great figures from around the world was an eroge.

This was why I realized this world was a romance fantasy.

I couldn't remember the name of the original work.

I did remember that it had an exceedingly romance-fantasy-like title: [Though I'm a Saint, @@@ and @@@ Are Obsessed with Me.]

I was, after all, a man who didn't even read romance fantasies.

Then how did I know about this world?

[Crocus Academy]

A game based on a romance fantasy was released, and it was unexpectedly fun enough that word of mouth spread and it sold fairly well.

This academy was the game's primary setting.

As if to prove its original work was a romance fantasy, it was packed with beautiful characters, but what interested me even more was its setting involving mana and ability users.

Since it was open-world, with flashy action and good graphics to boot, I even wondered how much money they'd poured into it.

I had also enjoyed that game, so the name had stuck with me.

"Haa..."

I could feel Mist staring at me strangely.

Keeping my guard up, I sighed at this headache-inducing situation.

"Is something wrong?"

"Ah, no..."

In response to Mist's question, all I could do was wave my hand dismissively and say that.

I was trying to think of an appropriate way to turn down her proposal, but I had discovered this world's true identity in a place I never could have expected.

"..."

How should I explain this?

So I simply let her gaze pass over me.

But there was something I had overlooked at that moment.

Namely, the time that had passed had given her more than enough opportunity to think of an offer I couldn't refuse.

"Would you hear my proposal first?"

"A proposal?"

"Yes. I imagine the word 'contract' would be more familiar to someone like you, Mr. Abel."

My mind was in turmoil over the fact that this world was based on a romance fantasy.

Her voice, reaching my ears through that troubled mind, smoothly slipped past my wariness and began to worm its way into me.

"The contract I am offering has only one condition: you will enter the Nebla Ducal House with me and spend approximately one year there."

"One year?"

Was this what the serpent's voice had sounded like when it tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden?

Such an alluring offer.

"Yes. You will enter the Nebla Ducal House and live there for one year. A very simple commission, is it not?"

Simple? Yes, it was simple. But what about all the troublesome things I'd have to deal with after entering?

"The compensation?"

She had called it a contract.

Then she must have prepared compensation to go with it.

Sunlight entered through the only open window in my home.

Because that sunlight was behind her, her shadow began to envelop me as though it were swooping down to cover me.

"You seem to like cigars."

At her words, I rolled my eyes toward the many cigar boxes beside me.

Cigars I'd bought by pouring every penny I'd earned, legally or illegally, into them.

"But I imagine the cigars an individual can purchase are limited. So, as one part of your compensation, I will offer rare cigars."

I couldn't help but flinch at her words.

Cigars were extremely high-end tobacco, to begin with.

A single cigar took thirty minutes at the shortest and an hour at the longest to smoke. Could the lower classes, busy scraping by, really afford to spend that long doing nothing but smoking a cigar?

In keeping with that luxury strategy, there were even cigars in this world that could only be purchased by those whose identities were verified.

"What other compensation?"

The fact that I was asking this probably proved her words sounded appealing.

But it really was that appealing an offer, so what could I do?

At my reaction, she continued.

"As for the other compensation, I will pay approximately five hundred million dinars in cash."

"What...?"

Five hundred million dinars.

Based on the prices I had experienced in this world, it was roughly equivalent to five billion won—a fortune.

Put simply, enough money to lounge around and live off it for the rest of my life.

"It will be money with nothing illegal about it, free from legal restrictions and available for you to use as you please."

Money like that—completely legal and freely usable?

No matter how much of a fantasy world this was, laws still existed.

And under those laws, using an enormous sum of money suddenly between private individuals would naturally create all sorts of troublesome complications.

For instance, I'd probably be investigated by a bank or an organization resembling the Financial Supervisory Service from my previous life.

But this was truly usable money, free of anything like that, and mine to spend however I pleased?

"Lastly."

Her voice reached me while I was still dumbfounded by the shocking offer.

"While you live at the ducal house for one year, I will enter into a loyalty contract allowing you to issue me any command."

"What?"

"It would only be for one year, but what do you think? I believe it's a fairly decent offer."

A loyalty contract.

In simple terms, if this contract were concluded, she would be unable to refuse my commands.

A contract called a slave contract, according to back-alley terminology.

"I've told you everything I'm offering. Now make your choice."

"..."

I began weighing the options in my head.

All sorts of rare cigars, and payment of roughly five billion won.

Let's set aside her one-year loyalty contract for now.

On the other side of the scale were the troubles that would arise if I entered the family.

Someone might pick a fight with an illegitimate child like me, or I might face political pressure from the family.

But one year?

"There's one thing I'd like to ask."

I had more or less made my decision.

However, there was one sticking point that remained.

"The loyalty contract you mentioned isn't something you can agree to verbally like this. You know that, right? What's more, setting a term for a loyalty contract... I haven't had much education, so tell me: is that really possible?"

Her promise to pay me in cash was probably genuine.

She must have guessed my personality. Would she really lie in this situation?

Well, if she did, our relationship would be redefined as hostile, and it wouldn't be too late to deal with her then.

But the compensation she had mentioned at the end was a different matter.

It was a contract. A contract that interfered with causality, at that.

For such a contract to be mentioned so casually—and with a term set on it, too?

[I... I'm going to be that noble's slave for life?! Do you hear me?! Damn it.]

The voice that had cried out desperately in a cheap bar I had visited after blowing all my money on cigars in the past.

It seemed to echo in my ears once more.

"..."

She had been silently watching me in response to my question, but she quickly cleared up my doubts.

"Normally, that would be the case. However, a high-grade contract concluded by an archbishop who serves the God of Contracts can have a term. The contract you mentioned is presumably a very low-grade one."

"... Ha, yeah. Of course. That makes sense when you think about it."

It was really that simple.

Cost.

A high-grade contract requiring an archbishop of the God of Contracts—just hearing about it made it obvious that money would pour out like a waterfall.

And there was no way she would use such an expense to bind people from the underworld.

"So, have I answered your question?"

Her voice came again.

Swish.

At the sound of her voice, I rose from my seat and held out my hand to her.

A sign of acceptance.

"So, the contract is concluded?"

"Yes. Then I look forward to working with you for the next year or so."

There were many things neither she nor I had said.

Whether she would refrain from becoming my enemy after the year of loyalty.

Or what she would do if I died halfway through the contract without fulfilling it.

To be honest, there were many ways to get around even this loyalty contract.

What if a third party other than her killed me?

Grin.

But we both merely smiled at each other, deliberately leaving those things unspoken.

If I had to deal with trouble without any compensation, it would be nothing but a nuisance.

But if the compensation was guaranteed? Then it would be a different story.

'This is going to get interesting for the first time in a while.'

A modern person who had tasted dopamine while living in the twenty-first century was bound to become listless after traveling to the past.

I was no different.

That was why I'd amassed enough cigars to fill a wall, even though I hadn't collected so many in my previous life.

Otherwise, I felt I would go insane.

It was true that it was troublesome, and true that I couldn't stand boredom.

Every bit of it was my genuine feeling.

If I had been powerless or weak, I wouldn't have accepted either.

I had a rough idea of my own strength.

I was confident that, even in the worst-case scenario, I had enough ability to take care of myself.

Twitch.

As I clasped her hand, I smiled calmly, feeling the smoke secretly shielding my vital points beneath my clothes.

***

'Pass.'

Mist looked at Abel, whose hand was clasped in hers, and thought that to herself.

Right down to the very end, he truly was a man like the ideal she had dreamed of.

Too much caution became a poison.

Too much confidence became a poison.

A true first-rate person had to cut through that caution and move forward when the time came.

She was aware that her standards were too high.

'But he satisfies my standards way too perfectly, doesn't he?'

This wasn't what she had intended.

When Abel threatened her, he had already surpassed the passing mark long ago.

Even so, Mist wanted to see Abel's caliber.

So she had thrown out even more tempting bait and wanted to see his reaction.

If he had asked for time, she would have understood.

If he had accepted immediately without thinking, she might have been a little disappointed.

But Abel had done neither.

He had resolved his doubts and accepted immediately.

The only emotion underlying this action was confidence.

Confidence that he would survive even if he entered into a contract to live in the Nebla Ducal House for a year.

Confidence that he could accept the compensation she offered even if it had loopholes.

It was the perfect opposite of the cautious attitude he had shown until just now. But this was exactly what a leader needed.

He needed the temperament to deliberate at length when deliberation was called for, yet when necessary, sever that caution with the blade of decisiveness.

That was the ideal master Mist so desperately wanted—someone worth serving.

'Ah, this isn't good.'

Mist had begun to find Abel truly attractive.

To the point that she wanted to devour him.

And so, when Abel turned his gaze toward her, Mist quietly licked her moist lips.