Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 82: These Are Two Different Matters
“Come in.”
The voice was cold, unyielding, and left no room for refusal. It struck directly into Merlin’s ears, as though it had bypassed the heavy wooden door altogether.
Merlin hesitated for a heartbeat, then carefully pushed the door open. The hinges gave a low creak. His eyes fell on a scene he did not expect: seated leisurely on the sofa in the Vice Principal’s office, sipping tea as if it were his own home, was none other than Weber—the little old man waved a hand at him with a familiar grin.
“Yo—” Weber greeted him with casual ease.
In that instant, the tension coiled inside Merlin’s chest evaporated like mist in the sun. He froze, staring at Weber in shock. What on earth is this old fellow doing here of all places? In the Vice Principal’s office, no less?
Before Merlin could voice his confusion, another voice cut through the room.
“You are Leo Merlin?”
The words snapped his composure back like a whip. Merlin instinctively straightened, the muscles in his shoulders tensing. He turned toward the source and found himself facing a severe-looking woman with the presence of a shrine maiden carved from marble. Her long white hair framed a face utterly devoid of warmth, her expression so rigid it seemed incapable of softening. This was Vice Principal Jenny.
Merlin hurriedly performed a noble’s bow, his voice respectful yet tight. “Honorable Vice Principal, I am indeed Leo Merlin.”
As he bent low, Jenny lifted one hand. Invisible threads of arcane power stirred. At once, the introduction letter from Professor Harrington slipped free from Merlin’s pocket as if plucked by unseen fingers, floating across the air to land neatly on her desk. A second casual wave of her hand, and Merlin’s body was pulled as if by a giant unseen magnet, lifted clean off the floor and deposited unceremoniously onto the sofa opposite Weber.
Merlin forced himself to sit properly, hands folded, his back straight. He pretended not to notice Weber making exaggerated winks and ridiculous faces across from him.
Jenny’s voice was calm but carried authority sharpened by years of command. “I already knew of you the moment you set foot into the Mage Tower. Truthfully, I had no intention of meeting with you at all. The Arcane Academy has always stood as a sacred place of teaching and enlightenment. I have no wish to see it entangled too deeply with commercial interests.”
Her words struck like frost. Then she continued, each syllable precise. “However, as I said earlier in my office—if you could unravel the functional array and arrive here by your own ability, I would acknowledge your skills and entertain your request to rent a classroom for business purposes.”
Merlin’s heart had been sinking into despair moments ago, yet now the words struck him like a sudden turn of fate. His spirit surged, and for the first time he silently thanked the countless nights in high school he had spent grinding through mathematics problems. Who would have thought that relentless practice with functions would one day open a door in an academy of mages?
Jenny’s expression remained unreadable. “The classrooms can indeed be rented. The academy has many vacant ones, most reduced to storerooms gathering dust. Yet we must first discuss the matter of rent.”
With deliberate movements, she pressed her personal seal onto Harrington’s introduction letter. Then, from a drawer, she retrieved a rolled contract scroll. Her fingers pinched the feather quill with practiced precision, the nib dancing across parchment as she filled the page with elegant, authoritative strokes.
“These are my terms. If you agree, you may proceed. There will be no negotiation, no bargaining. Should you find the price unacceptable… then kindly see yourself out.”
A flick of her wrist, and the scroll floated across the room toward Merlin.
He lowered his eyes to scan the text. The clauses resembled contracts back on Earth for renting shopfronts, but the numbers—ah, the numbers—were another matter entirely.
The rent varied by classroom size:
- A large classroom demanded a staggering 100,000 gold coins per year.
- A medium one, 60,000 gold coins per year.
- Even a small one required 30,000 gold coins annually.
Astronomical prices by ordinary standards. Yet Merlin only frowned faintly; compared to the true problem, these sums were but pocket change. His gaze lingered instead on the final clause—the additional requirement.
According to the contract, he would be obligated to purchase one million gold coins worth of goods from the Arcane Academy every year. Goods which encompassed anything and everything the academy chose to sell.
Merlin’s pulse quickened. He currently carried debts totaling only half that sum. A million gold coins—on Earth that translated to a full hundred million yuan.
Jenny’s eyes, sharp yet conflicted, fixed on him. The condition was deliberately harsh, perhaps even meant to dissuade him. Part of her longed for him to retreat, preserving the Academy’s scholarly purity. Yet another part—the side burdened with balancing the institution’s failing finances—hoped he would accept. The Academy’s coffers had run thin; even whispers of deficit crept through the halls. She, as its true steward, had to find new sources of revenue. Signing with Merlin was, in truth, a gamble.
But then—
Merlin’s lips curved upward. A spark danced in his eyes. He pressed a hand over his mouth as though to stifle it, but the laugh broke free anyway. Soon he was laughing aloud, helplessly, joyously, startling everyone in the room.
Weber nearly dropped his teacup, glaring at Jenny as if to say, Look what you’ve done—your impossible contract has driven the boy mad.
Jenny herself was taken aback. She lifted her hand cautiously. “Merlin, if this is beyond your means, you may decline—”
“No, no, no!”
Merlin sprang to his feet, eyes gleaming with conviction. He bowed low once again toward Jenny. “I accept this contract! Every last term. But—I would like one amendment.”
Jenny’s brow furrowed. “I have already said there will be no bargaining. If you cannot accept the terms—”
“No, Vice Principal, you misunderstand me.”
Merlin’s smile turned self-assured, radiating the kind of confidence that could only come from absolute certainty. He held the floating scroll with one hand, while with the other he pointed directly to the final clause: the one stipulating the million-gold purchase.
“My suggestion is simple: one million gold coins is too little. Vice Principal, what do you think of raising that number… to five million?”
“Five… five million?!”
Jenny shot to her feet, disbelief flashing across her austere face. Her voice, usually steady, trembled with incredulity. “Merlin, do you realize what you are saying? That is five million gold coins each year.”
“I am fully aware,” Merlin replied smoothly, his tone unwavering. “I am willing to commit to purchasing five million worth of goods from the Academy every year. But in return, I ask for a single concession.”
Jenny slowly sat back down, her mind racing. Five million was a sum beyond imagination. For such a promise, even she was willing to listen. “What is your request?”
Merlin placed a hand over his chest, bowing his head respectfully. “I wish for this contract to include the stipulation that all rentable facilities within the Arcane Academy may only be leased to Leo Merlin.”
Jenny blinked, taken aback. “Just that? You must understand—the Academy is, above all, a place of study. We cannot possibly lease too many facilities for business use. But if this is truly your only request… then I accept.”
Merlin bent deeply once more. “Your generosity humbles me, Vice Principal. I ask for nothing else. With this condition added, I am ready to sign immediately.”
Though Jenny felt an odd sense of unease, she had never dealt in business matters and thought little of it. She amended the contract accordingly.
The two of them affixed their signatures and pressed their seals: the crest of the Arcane Academy, and the insignia of the House of Merlin.
Merlin tucked the document away carefully, treating it as though it were a priceless treasure. Then, as though struck by a sudden thought, he raised his head.
“Honorable Vice Principal, may I confirm something? The term ‘goods’ in this contract… it includes every item the Academy is capable of selling, does it not?”
“Of course,” Jenny replied simply. “So long as you provide purchase records to the Academy’s finance office, that will suffice.”
Merlin nodded slowly. Inwardly, his mind turned like quicksilver gears. As I suspected. She truly is the scholarly type—brilliant in magic, but utterly unversed in commerce. She believes she has secured five million in pure revenue for the Academy.
But Merlin’s smile deepened, faint and unreadable.
The contract states only that I must purchase goods worth that sum. Revenue, however, is another matter entirely.