Chapter 1 - The Live-In Son-in-Law

'I can do this. I graduated near the top of the academy, and I've got powerful backing now. I can do this.'

James murmured to himself as he looked down the gloomy gray corridor.

His shirt, buttoned all the way up, prickled against his skin, but he had no attention to spare for it.

Today was the day of the Intelligence Bureau interview he had so eagerly awaited.

And what was the Intelligence Bureau? A gathering of the finest geniuses on the continent. It moved the Empire from the shadows, and very few people even knew it existed.

Not just anyone could get in. Merely to qualify to apply, you had to graduate near the top of the academy—which accepted only the gifted—or achieve a feat great enough to make your name known across the continent.

And that was not all. You had to pass a thorough background check and a practical examination closely modeled on actual fieldwork. Making it as far as the interview was a miracle in itself. And James was determined to seize that miracle.

"Fuck. Seriously."

Just then, he heard a coarse curse. Looking up, he saw a black-haired man sitting across from him.

An unbuttoned dress uniform, a slouch, a face full of irritation. Everything about him practically screamed discontent.

But right now, all James could see was the man's uniform.

'... An Intelligence Bureau agent!!'

He had never seen one before.

The Intelligence Bureau was an organization shrouded in mystery. In fact, he had not encountered a single person throughout the process leading up to his interview.

The man looked about James's age, yet he was already an agent. James's eyes lit up despite himself.

"Do you need something?"

The man's voice was edged with irritation.

"N-no, sir! I just thought you looked impressive!"

James hurriedly straightened to attention as he answered. If he got in, this man would be his senior.

"Taking it out on a hatchling... That's low."

The man narrowed his eyes, took out a cigarette, and put it between his lips.

"Want one? They're good."

"No, thank you! I'm fine!"

The man did not offer twice. A red flame sprang up above his finger.

"... A mage!"

James's eyes went wide. A mage serving as an Intelligence Bureau agent!

"Never seen a mage before?"

Instead of answering, James snapped his fingers. Tiny sparks flickered around them.

"So you're a junior colleague."

"I look forward to learning from you, sir!"

The man clicked his tongue softly. Gray smoke drifted from his lips as he regarded James with an unreadable expression.

"Why the Administration Bureau when you've got an easier path?"

It was a fair question.

Normally, mages joined a Mage Tower after graduation. That was the most common path. Otherwise, they entered a noble's service.

Mages were better suited to research and development than combat. In fact, the money and prestige to be gained in those fields were incomparably greater.

James, too, had received plenty of offers from Mage Towers. The reason he had turned them down and applied to the Intelligence Bureau was—

"I wish to devote my life to our glorious Empire!"

It was on his list of anticipated interview questions, so he answered without hesitation. The man narrowed his eyes. Was that not the right answer?

"... You're leaking a little mana. Your compression is a bit weak."

"Compression, sir?"

"Like this."

The man snapped his fingers again. Sparks flickered at his fingertips. At first glance, it looked just like what James had done, but James could appreciate the precision.

"You can get the same effect with less mana!"

"Right. They don't teach you that at the academy. Those who've never done anything but bury their noses in books think mana efficiency is unnecessary. But in the field, efficiency matters more. How long does it take you to replenish your mana?"

"About three days."

"That's far too long, isn't it?"

"... Pardon?"

James's eyes widened. Compared to his classmates, he was on the fast side.

"Don't just replenish it without thinking. Calculate its concentration as you store it. It takes you three whole days because you store it mindlessly, like breathing."

'Calculate the concentration while storing mana?'

Just working out the equations to cast a spell already made his head feel ready to split, and now he was supposed to calculate mana concentration too? Was that even possible? For now, James nodded.

"If you calculate the mana concentration ahead of time and remember it, you can use precisely as much mana as you need. Then you can do things like this."

The man snapped his fingers repeatedly. Sparks flashed in succession. What began as a single spark burst outward in an instant, forming a small flower.

A flower made of lightning. James was genuinely awed by its intricacy.

"This works wonders on women. Try it yourself. They'll fall head over heels."

"... Oh, does it?"

"Got a girlfriend?"

"We broke up before I came here."

"Because of the Intelligence Bureau?"

"Yes."

"Idiot."

"Pardon?"

The man let out a long stream of smoke. A fresh lemon scent wafted through the air.

"You can't date once you're in."

"That's all right! I intend to marry the Empire!"

"Have you asked the Empire how it feels?"

"... Pardon?"

The man gave a cough-like laugh.

"Right. Anyway, if you get into the Intelligence Bureau, remember one thing."

"What would that be, sir?"

"Keep your eyes shut and your mouth closed. Do only what you're told. Then you'll rise through the ranks."

The man narrowed his eyes. At a glance, he might have looked as though he were smiling, but the corners of his mouth had not lifted.

Just then, a door to the side opened, and a woman stepped out. At the sight of the cool-featured beauty, James unconsciously sat up straighter.

"Galahad, how many times have I told you there's no smoking indoors?"

"It's a mana cigarette."

"And?"

"It smells nice."

The woman gave a faint laugh and tilted her head toward the room. The man clicked his tongue and rose. James stared blankly up at him.

"Hang in there, and try not to get divorced."

"... Pardon? Yes, sir!"

The man patted James on the shoulder and went through the door.

James murmured the name "Galahad." Where had he heard it before...?

'... The academy's youngest graduate!'

As the name finally clicked, his jaw dropped.

Galahad was a figure recorded in the academy's history.

Most mages graduated from the academy at Tier 2, or Tier 3 at best. Yet Galahad had not only been the youngest graduate, he had already reached Tier 4 by graduation.

They said he had suddenly vanished afterward.

'He joined the Intelligence Bureau.'

Now it all made sense. To think he had met such a legendary figure! James let out a quiet "Yes!"

Just what he would expect of the Intelligence Bureau. The organization where the continent's finest geniuses gathered to guide the Empire.

Then a harsh voice rang out from inside.

"Fuck, are you seriously telling me to become a kept man?"

James's eyes widened at Galahad's voice.

He hurriedly looked above the door. A large sign read "Deputy Director's Office."

Swearing like that in the deputy director's office...

'So cool.'

James's eyes sparkled.

'I've got to get in!'

He clenched his fists, psyching himself up.

He wanted to work under that magnificent man, Galahad.

* * *

"Galahad, how does marrying the grand duke's eldest daughter make you a kept man?"

The deputy director narrowed his eyes amid the folds of his fleshy face. Galahad let out a deep breath and calmed himself.

"Isn't it the same thing? You know what sort of person his eldest daughter is."

"Of course. The youngest Swordmaster in history, isn't she? And she'll inherit the title of Grand Duchess of the North one day. That would make you the husband of the Grand Duchess of the North. What exactly are you complaining about?"

The deputy director chuckled. His shameless attitude made Galahad's temper flare.

When the Empire was first founded, the grand duke had truly been worthy of the title. The Empire's only duke, second in power only to the emperor.

The problem was his location in the North. It bordered demon territory. The grand duke had to fend off the demons' assaults, and as a result, his power dwindled by the day.

On top of that, the ignorant bastards in the North loathed mages, claiming magic was a by-product of demons. The grand duke's domain was the only territory without a Mage Tower.

Sending Galahad there, as both a mage and an Intelligence Bureau agent, was as good as telling him to die.

But Galahad was the card the deputy director had backed most heavily. He would never discard him with his own hand.

"Where did the order come from?"

His expression troubled, the deputy director pointed upward. He refused to acknowledge the Intelligence Bureau's director, dismissing him as an appointee foisted on them from above. If even he was pointing upward, it meant the order came from very high indeed.

"Your father pushed for this."

"Fuck! Seriously! That son of a..."

Unable to hold back, Galahad spat out a curse. He immediately understood how things had unfolded.

Galahad was a count's third son.

To keep their power from weakening, the nobles here passed everything to their eldest sons. Some even killed every child except the eldest son.

Reincarnated as a nobleman's son, Galahad had grasped his predicament at an early age. So he had studied magic desperately.

Studying was no great challenge. He had done more than enough of it in his previous life.

After all, Galahad had gotten into a prestigious university in Korea. Compared to tedious college entrance exam preparation and university coursework, studying magic produced visible results every time. It was incomparably more fun.

Besides, basic magical formulas were about on par with the advanced mathematics he had learned in his previous life.

Thanks to that, he had become the academy's youngest graduate and joined the Intelligence Bureau. He had thought he could finally sit back and enjoy a comfortable life, but—

'Not looking after me wasn't enough? Now you're selling me off? Fucking hell.'

It was an utterly political marriage of convenience. Galahad's sharp mind quickly reached the conclusion that there was no way out. He was cornered.

'This is such fucking bullshit.'

Having finished his calculations, Galahad sat across from the deputy director and put a cigarette between his lips. The deputy director's eyebrows rose, but he was no longer Galahad's superior anyway.

"Galahad—"

"What?"

"Give me one too."

Galahad narrowed his eyes and glared at him. Right. What had the deputy director done wrong? He took another cigarette from his pocket and handed it over.

"A light."

"In this day and age, you can't even use a simple spell?"

"Wait until you're old. See how hard it is to learn something new. A light!"

Clicking his tongue, Galahad lit the deputy director's cigarette.

"What kind of man smokes lemon-scented cigarettes? Lemon, of all things."

"You complain an awful lot for someone smoking my cigarettes."

The two sat quietly, smoking one cigarette after another.

The deputy director looked none too happy either. Galahad had been the card he was backing most heavily. Losing him was practically the same as losing everything.

"Why didn't you get married, anyway? You're old enough."

"I married the Empire."

"Your hatred of the Empire is famous enough that even I've heard about it."

"Don't you hate your wife too, sir?"

"Fair point."

They both chuckled.

"It won't take too long."

The deputy director's voice was weary. It was as though all his limbs had been cut off. There was no way he would be able to call Galahad back.

"Don't worry about it. I'll find my own way back."

Galahad shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette.

"True, you're popular with the ladies. In fact, Jamit likes you too."

The deputy director pointed at Jamit beside him with a mischievous grin. Her face crumpled into a deep scowl.

"I knew, actually. Sorry, Jamit. Office romance isn't my thing."

"... Give me one too."

With Jamit joining them, the three sat in a row, puffing away for a long while. No one spoke, but behind the silence, their minds were racing.

"Take some candy or chocolate with you. Women like that sort of thing. They might not have any in the North, either."

Jamit spoke as she blew a smoke ring.

"Candy. I'll remember that. Oh, the fellow outside should be useful."

"The fellow outside?"

"The carrot-looking greenhorn."

"Carrot?"

"I think he means the interview candidate."

"Ah, I see. But Jamit, why are you speaking so casually... Not that you can't. We've worked together for years, after all. Ha ha. So, did he look promising?"

"Yes. He said he wanted to marry the Empire."

"That's what you said at your interview."

Galahad smiled wryly.

Had he said that? Perhaps he had. Didn't everyone say things like that in interviews? How much they loved the company, how they intended to stay until they died. It had been something along those lines.

"Anything else you'd like to know?"

The deputy director leaned back as he asked. When he and Galahad had first met, his eyes had shone with justice and ambition. Now age and exhaustion had taken their place.

Galahad watched him for a moment before speaking.

"So, is the woman supposed to be pretty?"

This time, the deputy director laughed aloud. After laughing so hard he could barely breathe, he wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded.

"They say she's the greatest beauty on the continent."