episode_0149

“Then let’s wrap this up here.”

After hastily concluding the discussion with the strategy of me giving a speech to drain everyone’s spirits, I took Luciella and left the student council room first.

“What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the matter’? Now that we’ve put out the urgent fire, it’s time for you to fulfill my request.”

“Request?”

“Yeah. Don’t tell me you forgot? We need to go recruit some loyal salespeople to sell my newspaper.”

“Ah, if it’s that, there’s no need to worry.”

“No need to worry? Why?”

“I’ve already found people.”

At those words, I stopped in my tracks and looked at Luciella.

“Found them? What do you mean? Since when?”

“After Eric asked me, I did some research on my own. I gathered about ten people. It’s not a lot, but it should be enough for the initial sales team.”

“Wait, hold on. Even if you say that—”

Faced with Luciella’s indifferent report, I had no choice but to press her further.

“Just as Eric said, I simply reached out to those in the slums who refuse to give up and struggle to survive. I haven’t secured their full cooperation yet, but if you go with me, they’ll trust us. It’s only an implicit agreement for now, but with a credible witness appearing—”

“You used my name?”

Luciella nodded, as if asking what the problem was.

“No one there is naive enough to believe the words of some random academy girl. I had to sell your name, even if it was a bit forced. No matter how much the rumors call you a troublemaker, you’re still undeniably the heir of Duke Grave. They only believed because they thought you could help them.”

“Okay… okay. Just wait a second.”

I raised a hand, struggling to organize my thoughts. The newspaper Dave and Cheryl were working on—our own newspaper. Even if it’s just a student-run paper, the fact that the heir of Duke Grave is directly overseeing it, with the backing of Elia, a leading imperial successor, means it’s practically an offer they can’t refuse.

For people living hand-to-mouth, there’s hardly anything more reassuring than this. I could see why they’d easily fall for Luciella’s proposal. Demanding proof in the form of me made sense, too. But I still had a few unresolved questions.

“Why did you act on your own? And what were your selection criteria?”

Even if everything else was fine, these two points were non-negotiable.

“If it wasn’t something you ordered me to do, then I acted as I pleased. I’ve heard prophecies are fragile, delicate things. So I believed there must be a meaningful difference between acting based on your prophecy and acting on my own.”

“So… you thought following my words wouldn’t work?”

Luciella nodded.

“There’s a big difference between acting on someone’s orders and moving on your own. If I’d gone with you, recruiting people would’ve taken weeks, and the final selections would’ve been different from who I’ve chosen now.”

“I’ll admit that.”

As Luciella said, I currently had no prior preparations for recruiting newspaper sellers. I would’ve spent time ensuring they were safe and trustworthy, and the people I’d have picked would’ve been different from Luciella’s choices.

“I acted this way because I believe your prophecy will be a great help in the battles to come. The futures seen by prophets are merely glimpses of the results of the choices we make in reality. So I believed that the choices I make now are the very means to fulfill your prophecy.”

“Hmm…”

Watching Luciella, who was unexpectedly eloquent, I swallowed hard. It was true—I did want her to act autonomously. If they moved like puppets based solely on my prophecies, things could become irreparable if I made a mistake or my predictions went awry.

That’s why I only provided a rough outline of the future and left the detailed responses to events up to their own judgment.

As for what happened with Fairchild… well, I nearly died, but even if I had, it wouldn’t have been a big problem. I’d prepared for my death more thoroughly than anything else. So Luciella’s independent actions now were something I should actually praise.

Still, it was surprising that she’d managed to persuade people in places even I didn’t know about.

“……”

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

Luciella wasn’t stupid—she just didn’t like talking. She must’ve handled it well. Sensing there was little to gain from pressing further, I shifted the topic to my second question.

“I conducted a fair selection process.”

“Fair selection?”

“I told them I’d give them what they wanted if they could beat me.”

“What?”

“Naturally, many challenged me. I simply picked those among them who had the will to reform.”

“That’s dangerous! Do you even know what kind of place that is—”

“It wasn’t dangerous.”

Luciella’s short reply carried a strange persuasiveness.

“How exactly did you persuade them? Tell me your method.”

If Luciella had used a method I hadn’t even considered, it might come in handy later.

“I beat those who challenged me just enough that they wouldn’t die. Those who got back up, I beat again. Those who still got up, I beat until they couldn’t, then healed them with recovery magic and sent them back.”

“What?”

“For those who tried to pressure me with their family name or influence, I sold the names of Duke Grave and Elia. I beat those who used drugs. I beat those who tried to assault others. I broke the swords of those who used them—”

“Wait, wait. I get it. I get what you did.”

In short, Luciella had taken a much simpler approach than I’d imagined. How do you distinguish those in the slums who want to leave their miserable pasts behind and start anew?

Simple. They have to want it badly enough to keep getting back up after being beaten down.

The slums aren’t just filled with the poor. Those marginalized by the empire naturally gather there—people with grudges against the empire or those who can’t be accepted in normal society.

So the slums are both a place for the struggling and the empire’s underworld. If you want to survive there, there are plenty of ways. Just dip your toes into crime, or join one of the groups operating there, and you’ll earn enough to live on.

That’s why, no matter how tempting a job offer is, most people just give up. They already have ways to scrape by—why bother with a clean life? Especially when their whole body aches from being beaten.

And Luciella picked out those who refused to give up, who still wanted to live under the sun.

“Just to be sure, none of them are suffering from mental trauma or anything, right? It’d be a problem if they had seizures every time they saw you.”

Luciella might’ve said it lightly, but knowing how she fought on the battlefield, I couldn’t help but worry about the recruits’ PTSD.

“I gave them money along with healing magic. Most were satisfied.”

“Where did you even get the money?”

“Everyone gladly contributed when I asked.”

“Even those three? Seriously?”

“The president gave some too. I told everyone to keep quiet until things officially start, so there’s no risk of leaks. You can focus on producing and selling the newspaper without worry.”

“…Let’s go meet the applicants.”

Now that everyone already knew about my plans, there was no point hesitating. True, the empire already has newspapers, but they’re all controlled by a single publisher. And if you combine the investments of Duke Grave and Count Rurstal, they hold over half the shares. With a polite ‘request,’ getting permission to publish a new paper would be trivial.

Besides, the newspaper we’re making isn’t some shoddy thing—it’s a competitive outlet offering high-quality information ordinary nobles can’t access, along with academy news.

At first, I considered pushing our new paper as the main publication, but knowing how dangerous media monopolies are, I held back.

In the end, the more media outlets, the better. Of course, I won’t tolerate anyone spouting nonsense.