Chapter 9: The Way of a King, Convincing (Patreon)

The principle behind this once utterly mysterious trick — a piece of magic Subaru had marveled at back on Earth — turned out to be almost embarrassingly simple.

Inside the box, on both the left and right sides, were two thin one-way mirrors that could swing open and shut. When the knives were thrust in from either side, thanks to angles calculated in advance, they were guaranteed to strike only those two mirrors.

The moment they were struck, the mirrors would swing shut, covering the person's head and sealing it inside a safe pocket where it would come to no harm.

As for the half-meter blade plunged down from above last of all — that was purely so its length would hide the closed mirrors from view. The audience would see only the blade, with no way of spotting the mechanism, and so would be fooled into thinking a head had mysteriously vanished into thin air.

Felt's mind worked fast. She didn't need it explained — one look and she understood it completely.

She'd grown up scraping by in the slums and had seen all sorts of shady tricks in her time, but honestly, in all these years she'd never once come across anyone using a method like this.

Most of the magic tricks around here were performed by people with unique Divine Protections, using their blessings to achieve effects no one else could replicate. And people with Divine Protections generally didn't bother becoming magicians — they had far more promising careers available to them.

What Subaru Natsuki had just done, though, was something he could actually teach to others. And even though the trick seemed simple once you understood it, as long as the secret never got out, no one could rack their brains hard enough to figure out the principle behind it.

And even if some top-tier expert from another world happened to see through it, the solution was simple — just wander from country to country, city to city, racking up money along the way. Guaranteed profit, no risk.

This was, without exaggeration, a trick you could live off for the rest of your life!

"You've got some skill there, kid!"

Felt's eyes lit up, her red irises practically turning into gold coin shapes. In her ears, she could already hear the imaginary clatter of a mountain of coins tumbling down.

"Heh heh. Go ahead, worship me all you like!"

Subaru grunted as he yanked the box back out, then swept his black bangs back with an exaggerated flourish. This — this was exactly the feeling he'd wanted. Having his talent recognized, being showered with praise, having teammates who thought he was amazing.

Felt wiped at her nose, practically drooling as she imagined her mountain of gold coins. "Heh heh, heh heh heh... if we had, like, seven or eight tricks on this level... heh heh heh..."

Old Man Rom nodded along in agreement. Seven or eight tricks obviously wouldn't be enough to support the economy of a place this size on their own, but that didn't matter — as long as they had a few signature showstoppers like this in reserve, supplemented with more common acts, it would be more than enough.

And yet, even having acknowledged the value of Subaru's trick, Old Man Rom still looked troubled. He lowered his eyes and shot a quick, almost imperceptible glance at Felt, clearly wrestling with something.

For just a flicker of a moment, something like killing intent passed through his eyes — not aimed at Felt, but at Subaru Natsuki, the one who'd brought all this potentially world-changing chaos with him.

"But there are still two problems." Finally, after careful thought, he spoke, his tone firm as he shot the idea down. "Even with these tricks, how are you going to convince the rest of the slum to cooperate with you — to trust you?"

Subaru blinked. "Huh? Something this good, right in front of them, and they still wouldn't want in?"

"You're dreaming."

Old Man Rom tapped the counter with his big hand, slow and deliberate. His tone was carefully casual, as if he weren't really trying to stop him, but what he said was cold enough on its own. "How many people here haven't been betrayed at least once? Especially someone like you — soft, pampered, clearly noble by the look of you, an outsider through and through. They'll assume the worst of you, no question."

"Take some advice. With skills like yours, you could make a living anywhere. Why come here and suffer for nothing? Forget the slums. Go make your own way in the world. A man like you shouldn't be wasting his time mixed up with people like us — what good could that possibly do you?"

Old Man Rom seemed, on the surface, to be putting the whole slum down. But really, he was just stating facts.

The people living here were poor and wretched, but there's a saying — the pitiable are often not entirely blameless. Life here had made everyone bristle like startled cats, ten times more defensive than ordinary folk. Earning their trust wasn't quite impossible, but it would certainly be a headache.

Given the time and effort it would take to win over the slum, Subaru — with his knowledge — could far more easily gather followers and build something greater somewhere else entirely.

"You're putting yourself down too much, Old Man Rom. That's not true at all. We'll help him — we can take the shortcut!"

Felt pouted, muttering her protest under her breath. Her money — that's what this was about!

If Subaru actually got talked out of it, then the two million that was supposed to be split — him getting two, her getting one — would just... vanish, and he'd go off and become a rich man all on his own!

But no matter how much Felt protested, Old Man Rom didn't budge. He just kept his sharp, pressing gaze fixed on Subaru.

Leave. It'll be better for both of us.

If you insist on stirring up trouble here, insist on dragging that girl Felt into it, putting her at risk of exposure...

"I'm not leaving."

"—"

Subaru's flat, decisive voice cut through Old Man Rom's building resolve in an instant.

Something in Rom's chest lurched. His brow furrowed, and a faint threat crept into his voice. "Do you understand what you're saying, kid? Don't puff yourself up just to save face. Change your answer right now, and I'll see you out safely myself, and even lend you a bit of starting capital for free. Understand?"

"I understand. That's exactly why I have to start here."

Subaru said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes, which had already gone soft looking at Felt, now somehow looked just as unbearably gentle turned toward Old Man Rom. He raised one hand to the sky, and pointed the other at the ground.

"Well, I wasn't really planning on saying something this cheesy, but since I'm going to be king anyway, I guess it doesn't matter... 'In heaven and on earth, I alone am supreme.' Now that I've seen this place with my own eyes, how could I just let it keep going on like this?"

"And even setting all that aside — I'd want to stay here anyway. Because even if nobody else here turned out to be worth much, just having you two, Felt and Old Man Rom, already makes it worth it for me!"

What an absolute idiot, spouting nonsense out of nowhere, even babbling about becoming king of the Kingdom of Lugunica.

And yet.

"...I really am getting old, you little brat."

The hand that had been secretly gripping the massive club let go, all at once. Old Man Rom's whole body seemed to loosen, and a helpless, wry smile crossed his face.

If he'd been younger, he might have made the call to deal with Subaru right then and there, without a second thought.

But now... he was old. A useless old man, the kind who gets won over by some foolish young punk. Ah, well.