Ch.128128. Issuance

‘Now they don’t whisper among themselves during class anymore.’

This was the thought that crossed Professor Weaver’s mind with a bitter smile as he conducted his lecture at the magic department.

He could feel the students’ attitudes gradually improving.

It wasn’t a dramatic change.

There were still several students with serious attention deficits, and some who would stare at magic language he had taught numerous times as if it were unfamiliar, boldly questioning, “Sorry, but you never taught us this?”

Still, it was encouraging that they at least pretended to listen. Until now, more than half of the students had sat restlessly before leaving.

If left unchecked, they would have mass-produced degraded successors to Yuni, the mage from the previous Hero’s party.

‘Though it’s not entirely a happy development…’

Weaver knew that the slight improvement in the previously unfocused students’ attitudes wasn’t due to his teaching ability.

These days, the lottery was undoubtedly the talk of the Academy.

The Academy was particularly quick in spreading information. This was because children of local lords, officials, knights, and mages were all mixed together in one place. They naturally shared information they had learned through their families.

Thanks to this, the students had already received news that the Imperial Palace would grant “academically excellent students” additional lottery purchase rights.

The increase in students focusing on class was surely due to this.

Professor Weaver felt bitterness rising within him as he finished his lecture and headed toward the faculty building. Still, he thought that if students’ skills improved even through these means, he couldn’t ask for more.

…

Just then, a familiar voice reached Professor Weaver’s ears.

“Tsk. I’m going to apologize to Professor Weaver for ignoring his greetings all this time. They say you need to be in the top 60 to buy 2 lottery tickets, and I can’t afford to skip that old man’s subject.”

It was a student named Kyle who dreamed of becoming a magical tool tycoon.

He had previously brought some kind of blueprint, been criticized by Weaver, and stopped even greeting him, but now it seemed he had changed his mind because of the lottery.

Professor Weaver quietly followed behind him.

“Hey, but still, calling a professor ‘that old man’ isn’t right.”

“Who cares? When I showed him my blueprint last time, he just criticized it with nonsense. He’s a typical old fogey.”

“He was in the Hero’s party.”

“…That’s not my concern either. The Hero’s party will disband after defeating the Demon Lord anyway, so what’s so special about Professor Weaver then?”

“Whether a 7th circle mage who can cast area spells with ultra-fast incantations is special or not is… never mind. Do whatever you want. Just make sure you apologize.”

“I’ll handle it myself!”

Student Kyle snapped at his friend and then turned around abruptly.

And immediately after, Kyle’s expression turned serious. The professor he had just disparaged was staring blankly at him.

Professor Weaver waited for a while, curious to see how Kyle would react.

Kyle licked his lips with a servile smile, rolling his eyes left and right.

Finally, in a shrinking voice, he asked, “Did you hear that by any chance?”

It was probably a question thrown in hopes that Professor Weaver would say he hadn’t heard.

‘This one’s hopeless. Let’s discard him.’

Professor Weaver shook his head and walked past him.

“Wait, Professor…? I’m asking you something.”

Kyle, now desperate, anxiously called after the professor and followed him, but Weaver consistently ignored him.

It wasn’t simply because he was upset, but because he intended to use Kyle as an example to train the better students.

His new policy was to salvage at least a few elites through additional lottery purchase rights and sacrificial tools like Kyle. Kyle would become redundant, but it couldn’t be helped.

That was the best he could do now.

***

How did I end up becoming a patriot?

This thought never left my mind throughout the weeks of directing the lottery issuance.

As a former member of the Royal Order, I shouldn’t say this, but I had never felt loyalty toward the Empire or the Imperial family since childhood.

It wasn’t that I had any complaints about the Emperor’s rule; I simply had no sense of national identity to begin with. Honestly, I didn’t even care who was above me.

‘Emperor, what Emperor? When I was young, I didn’t even know the name of my lord.’

After joining the Order, I habitually proclaimed my dedication to protecting the Empire and the Imperial family, but honestly, even then, I never felt the desire to serve with my life. I only wanted to advance moderately and live comfortably.

Yet here I was, issuing lottery tickets and working hard for the Empire’s continued existence.

Very hard, at that.

– Preventing counterfeiting is our top priority. Since we’re using a number drawing system, someone will definitely try to forge winning tickets.

– Um, Hero? Then couldn’t we just choose a method other than number drawing?

– No. We need to use a number marking system to truly engage gambling addicts. They’ll delude themselves into thinking they can choose numbers with higher winning probabilities through their own skill. That way, they’ll focus on studying numbers rather than looking elsewhere.

– …Ah.

– We just need to prevent forgery. I’ve actually tried using ink made with magical orientation and blessing it. Fortunately, people with sensitive magical perception can identify writing done with this ink. We’ll have people write their numbers with it. And we’ll place a geas restriction on the administrators.

The lottery I created required matching 4 numbers out of 50 to receive the prize money.

I chose not to use the same method as the lottery in “Korea” where the Saintess had lived (6 numbers out of 45) because I feared we might have rollovers without winners. Unlike Korea, the Empire had a limited number of people who could buy lottery tickets.

So my conclusion was 4 numbers.

It was a measure to prevent rollovers while still providing the fantasy of a big win. And to prevent the emergence of unmanageable wealth.

Of course, that wasn’t my only concern.

We also discussed methods to prevent suspicions about the winning number selection and how to receive prize money. I didn’t delude myself into thinking we could completely prevent side effects, but we had to try.

– I plan to draw numbers at a fixed time on a fixed day every two weeks in a public place. I think we should blindfold the drawer and have them select balls with numbers written on them.

– Anyone who wishes should be able to attend the drawing ceremony.

– Exactly. And after winners receive their prize money, guards should escort them home.

I planned to encourage winners to deposit their prize money in the Imperial Bank if possible. Otherwise, the winners’ lives would be in danger.

With so many other details to decide, I received real-time advice from the Saintess while establishing the lottery’s specific plans.

At some point, the Finance Minister and Vice Minister began to feel like my aides, and the questions in my mind gradually faded.

Meanwhile, the lottery release date was approaching.

Due to administrative limitations, we planned to start in the Imperial Capital. From the second round, we would implement it in the main cities of dukedoms and marquisates.

The official name was the Imperial Lottery. But people seemed to just call it the “Hero’s Lottery.”

The lottery sales office in the Imperial Capital held deep meaning for me.

It was the former Cordana Exchange.

This was where I, a knight of common birth, had acquired wealth beyond my station, and also where I first fell into this terrible quagmire.

Currently, the Cordana Exchange was owned by royalty (the Emperor’s younger sister).

The Imperial family had made various attempts to erase Cordana’s image.

They had tried to convert the exchange into a large salon or exhibition hall, and even attempted to turn it into a restaurant. But all these attempts ended at the preparation stage. Probably because they feared opening the doors of the Cordana Exchange.

Now the exchange had finally found a use.

Naturally, I had selected this location. The title “lottery sold at the former Cordana Exchange” alone would stimulate fantasies of striking it rich.

Finally, on the day of the lottery release.

I headed to the former Cordana Exchange, now transformed into a lottery sales office.

Though it was still early morning, hundreds of people were already lined up in front of the sales office.

The composition was diverse.

People who appeared to be nobles or semi-nobles, the owner of a restaurant I frequently visited when I was a regular member of the Royal Order, young students wearing Academy uniforms, and so on.

A truly diverse group of people were lined up in front of the lottery sales office.

The difference from the Cordana era was that the proportion of commoners was overwhelmingly high. And everyone wasn’t frenzied.

“Why aren’t they opening yet? My legs hurt.”

“But come to think of it, there’s no need to be constrained by time… Unlike Cordana, we just need to purchase before the day before the drawing.”

“Still, I’m anxious. …Damn, what was the winning probability again? 1 in 200,000? No, 1 in 230,000?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Anyway, at least now we’ll have the fun of waiting for the announcement day.”

People stamping their feet, revealing subtle expectations and impatience.

As if responding to their expectations, the doors of the sales office opened.

People entered one by one as they had been waiting to do.

There was no one causing a disturbance or shouting profanities.

The process simply continued: paying money, receiving a form, writing numbers under the supervision of a sales clerk, and leaving with excited expressions.

It was definitely better than the Cordana era. At least people wouldn’t be sitting in the exchange’s reception room staring at trading boards all day.

Instead, there would be more people becoming obsessed with the lottery, but in the current Empire, that level of side effect was quite acceptable.

Moreover.

“Hero, no, Lord Marquis! Thank you so much!”

There were even those who recognized me and bowed with excited expressions.

Not just one or two, but dozens of people showed me favorable glances one after another. Each of them held completed lottery tickets in their hands.

They seemed genuinely grateful, which made me feel rather embarrassed.

Of course, I had no intention of shattering their illusions by saying things like, “You should know your chances of winning are almost zero.” Creating illusions was my intention from the start.

In the midst of all this, there was one consideration I could offer these people.

I, who had never failed in either speculation or investment, would not purchase an Imperial Lottery ticket. Though in truth, I couldn’t buy one anyway since if I won, people would suspect manipulation.

The funds raised through lottery sales would ultimately be used according to my intentions, but that couldn’t be helped.