episode_0074

K

It’s a pseudonym I use when communicating via letters.

Sometimes I go by my real name, Cain, but other times, I use an alias.

Why?

“Because it’s cool.”

…Okay, maybe that was a tiny part of the reason, but the real reason is this:

Information delivered by Cain, a D-rank adventurer. Information delivered by the enigmatic Great Sage K.

Which one would people be more likely to believe?

Usually, the latter.

Of course, there’s always the chance that this “sage” is just a fraud.

But still, wouldn’t it be more credible than some D-rank adventurer spouting nonsense about knowing the truth?

“To put it in Korean terms, it’s like this—”

Learning a game from a Bronze player VS Learning a game from an anonymous pro gamer

Which would most people pick?

The Bronze player?

If they’re stuck at the bottom themselves, what makes them qualified to teach?

On the other hand, even if you don’t know how skilled the anonymous pro gamer is, you might still give them a shot—just in case.

…That’s the general idea.

And what if, after following their advice, your rank actually skyrockets?

You’d start believing them, wouldn’t you?

Same principle.

The mage in front of me initially suspected I was a fraud, but after I showed them a glimpse of the truth, they started calling me “Teacher” and praising me.

“But now…”

The moment we met, they were suspicious again.

“Well…” “I guess it’s only natural to be suspicious.”

The person standing before me is a future Archmage and one of the A-rank mages being considered for the Hero’s party.

Meanwhile, I’m just a D-rank adventurer.

I used a few magic tools to conceal my identity, and I even flipped my robe inside out—

But none of that could fool an A-rank mage’s eyes.

So?

What should I do?

“Strike first, win first.”

I immediately shut them down.

“Right now, I must look like a desperate D-rank human trying—and failing—to hide my identity with magic tools.”

“!!!!!!”

“Well… I won’t deny it. I disguised myself this way precisely so you’d misunderstand.”

“You deliberately showed yourself like this?”

“You could say that.”

“But why…?”

“Let’s just call it a hobby.”

“A hobby… I see. You were testing how much I could deduce.”

The mage misunderstood all on their own.

“If you thought a D-rank human was disguising themselves with magic tools, you only got half the picture. If you saw me as an S-rank, then you saw correctly.”

The mage nodded.

“I still have a long way to go.”

“……”

I was surprised at how well the act worked.

“No way…” “I prepped so much to convince them… If they believe me this easily, it’s kinda anticlimactic…”

But still, it’s easier when they believe me rather than doubt me.

So I just rolled with it.

“Now that the misunderstanding’s cleared up, shall we get to the main point?”

“I’ve nearly finished the task you assigned.”

Gather the people who failed to pull an S-rank Indulgence and suspect fraud, then form a protest group.

Not a truck protest—no, prepare a knight order protest.

Then, when the Pope steps outside, have the knights reveal themselves and pressure him.

The Pope will deny it, but in front of everyone, they’ll open a massive batch of random Indulgences to prove no S-ranks drop.

The Pope will claim it’s just bad luck, but the mage will logically refute him, proving the rates were rigged.

…That was the plan.

The preparations were done.

All that was left was to execute it the moment the Pope appeared.

…I understood that much, but—

“Wow…” “This is insane…”

I never imagined they’d carry out the mission this flawlessly.

“How is this even possible?”

They’d gathered every noble who suffered losses from the random Indulgences and organized them into a single protest group.

“How does that make sense?”

The random Indulgences had only been on sale for a week.

Sure, it was a rigged-rate scam, so technically, every buyer was a victim.

But realizing you’ve been scammed takes time.

Right?

If no S-ranks drop, most people just assume they’re unlucky.

Who would immediately jump to “the rates are rigged”?

Especially when it’s the Pope selling them.

This is an official product of the Holy Nation of , sold under the name of the Goddess of Light, Selena.

And you’re telling me the rates are rigged?

Unthinkable.

If they pulled something like that, the Goddess of Light Selena herself would smite them.

How could they possibly manipulate the rates?

…That’s how most people would react.

I knew the Pope was corrupt, but the others had no idea.

And yet?

They managed to unite all the “victims” and organize a protest this quickly?

How?

The moment I voiced the question, the mage smiled faintly and answered.

“Thanks to the materials Teacher K provided, the work was effortless.”

“Materials…?”

All I sent was a list of nobles who bought the random Indulgences… and records of what crimes they’d committed.

After all, buying a ton of Indulgences means they’ve committed serious crimes—ones they’d desperately want erased.

They were infamous even in Prophecy RPG.

“Real juicy targets.”

Catching just one of them would net you insane fame, money, and items—like golden goblins.

And they were easy to catch.

Just report which noble committed which crime to their kingdom’s king.

Then?

The king would investigate and arrest them.

…It was that simple, which was why veteran Prophecy RPG players called corrupt nobles “honey pots.”

And now, they’ve become “victims” of the random Indulgences and joined the protest—very grateful individuals.

Of course, no matter how grateful they are, I have no intention of forgiving them.

Once the Pope is dealt with, I’ll toss every last one of those Indulgence-buying scumbags into prison.

“They’re like cancerous tumors on the nation.”

If this were just a game, I might’ve left them be, but this is the world I’ll live in.

The world I’ll stay in until I die after seeing the ending.

So, it’s better to swiftly cut out the malignant tumors hindering the nation’s growth.

That way, the world I live in will prosper.

“……”

I got sidetracked for a moment, but the real shocker was this:

I did tell them those guys were criminals, but I had no proof.

If you accuse someone of being a criminal without evidence, they’ll just scream, “Proof?! Where’s your proof?!”—and then you’ve got nothing.

So, threatening them probably wouldn’t have worked anyway.

…But more importantly, there were about 100 nobles in that protest group.

You might convince or threaten one or two into joining, but uniting 100 is a whole different story.

“There wasn’t enough time.”

The random Indulgences had only been on sale for a week, and considering when I sent the buyer list…

“They realistically only had 1–2 days to organize the protest.”

In that short time, they convinced all 100 to unite under one cause.

Not a single one missing.

How is that possible?

“……”

I took a moment to think about who this guy really was.

A genius.

Not just smart— he was the smartest character in Prophecy RPG, the bespectacled pretty boy.

“Sigh…” “What kind of move could possibly form a protest group in a single day?”

No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t figure it out.

So I asked.

“It was simple.”

“Simple?”

“I just went to them and said, ‘No matter how many random Indulgences you buy, you’ll never get an S-rank.’”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“You said that without any proof?!”

“Proof can be manufactured.”

“Manufactured?”

“All I had to do was gather everyone who bought random Indulgences and ask one question: ‘Has anyone here pulled an S-rank?’”

“……?!”

Now that I think about it, yeah.

There was no need to dump money into publicly testing the rates.

Since we knew every buyer, we just had to ask them.

If anyone had gotten an S-rank, the rate wasn’t zero.

But if no one had, it was probably zero.

Of course, it could still be non-zero, so—

I did the math.

The answer was obvious.

The nobles had bought around 120,000 random Indulgences.

At a 0.1% rate, they should’ve gotten about 120 S-ranks.

But in reality?

Zero S-ranks.

Even an idiot could see the problem.

Complex calculations?

Unnecessary.

Persuasion?

Didn’t need that either.

The nobles realized the Pope had scammed them, and in their rage, they formed the protest.

That’s all.

“Wow…” “This guy’s really competent.”

He finished the job faster and more efficiently than I could’ve.

So, I decided to give him a gift.

“Merlin.”

“Yes, Teacher.”

A candidate for the Hero’s party, and the future Archmage Merlin, looked straight at me.

A bespectacled pretty boy.

At first glance, he seemed cool and aloof—someone you’d mistake for a cold, logical type.

But no.

He was closer to a gag character.

“A severe siscon who loses his mind the moment his little sister is mentioned.”

Normally, he’s fine, but bring up his sister, and he turns into a lovable idiot.

However, if he doesn’t join the Hero’s party, he usually meets a bad ending.

Why?

Because Merlin’s wish is to cure his sister’s illness— and it’s incurable.

Short of praying to the Goddess of Light Selena, there’s no way to heal her.

“The reason he’s so obsessed with uncovering the truth is for her sake.”

He believes that if he finds the truth, he’ll discover a magic that can cure her.

And so, he dedicates himself to research.

Thanks to that, he did reach the truth.

But.

He couldn’t cure the incurable disease.

Hence, the bad ending.

His sister dies, and Merlin weeps at her grave for days before collapsing and dying himself.

…That’s the Prophecy RPG storyline.

But I’ll twist it.

“You did well, so I’ll cure your sister.”

“!!!!!!”

“What? You don’t want me to?”

“N-no! It’s just… my sister’s illness is…”

“Right.”

“The incurable disease ‘Demon’s Bomb Sickness’—one no one has ever healed.”

In modern terms, it’s cancer.

“But Sophia already healed it with her Rain of Healing.”

Merlin’s sister had been recuperating in the Holy Nation of to treat her illness.

And a few days ago, Sophia unleashed an overflowing surge of divine power—a Rain of Healing—across the entire nation.

A miraculous rain that heals all wounds, all diseases.

A miracle that even cures cancer.

Since that happened, she’s already fully recovered.

But.

Merlin doesn’t know yet.

“Guess I’ll just take credit for it.”