The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower-Chapter 321

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Chapter 321: Special Prescription (3)

In the past, in the Red Mountain Range, Oscar once had the following conversation with Oran Quil.

“Hmm? The internal combat rankings of the Violet Brigade? You’re interested in that sort of thing too, little brother?”

“Well… I am curious.”

“Hah. I suppose you’re at that age.”

After that, Oran fell silent, his expression turning serious as he pondered.

Then he spoke again.

“I haven’t fought every single member, so I can’t say for sure. But just going by intuition…”

His gaze drifted toward the tent where Kaya and Sasha were sleeping.

“She’s probably in the top three.”

“Top three?”

“Yeah. And honestly, even though I say top three, she might actually be the strongest.”

A physical-type mage who excelled in close combat.

From the opponent’s perspective, she was an existence that practically screamed unfairness.

You couldn’t recklessly close the distance—yet you couldn’t widen it either.

“Then who are the other two?”

“Next would be the Mad Mage, no question.”

“The Mad Mage… the one who lost his sanity?”

“That’s right. A walking disaster incarnate. But his attacks are simplistic, so someone at your level could actually gain the upper hand more easily than you’d expect.”

“If Kaya has a slight edge over the Mad Mage… then the final member of the top three must be the commander, right?”

There was only one reason he thought so.

If the commander were weak, those eccentric, unpredictable individuals would never follow him.

The power to unify and lead them forward had to originate from the commander’s strength.

But Oran’s answer was unexpected.

“Who knows? I don’t know that one.”

“…You don’t?”

“I’ve never seen the commander fight.”

“Not even once?”

“Not once.”

“But when you face someone, you can usually gauge their strength.”

“Normally, yes. But with the commander, I feel nothing at all. Let’s exclude him from this debate.”

What followed, layered atop that lingering doubt, was the identity of the Violet Brigade’s third-ranked combatant.

“It’s the Designer.”

“That’s surprising.”

All Oscar knew about him was his obsessive fixation on mana circuits.

‘No… maybe it makes sense.’

Despite crippling countless mages and knights, he was still active.

That meant he had survived the pursuit of innumerable trackers who had come after him.

With a grave expression, Oran warned him.

“Let me say this in advance—don’t get involved with the Designer. Especially you.”

“Why?”

“Your growth rate is absurd. Honestly, even I’m curious how your body actually works. If I feel that way, imagine how the Designer would feel.”

Oscar clasped the front of his robe modestly with both hands and asked,

“I’ll keep that in mind. But how would I recognize him if I ran into him?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Just look at his eyes.”

“His eyes?”

“……Yes. Those eyes.”

As if recalling something unpleasant, Oran frowned deeply.

“Remember this well. That bastard’s eyes… they look just like a snake’s.”

At the time, Oscar didn’t really understand.

How could a human’s eyes resemble a snake’s?

It didn’t quite make sense.

But now, he thought he understood.

‘…Snake-like eyes.’

They were unmistakably human eyes, yet somehow evoked the image of a serpent.

The small, rimless glasses failed to soften their inherent sharpness.

Oscar heightened his guard and replied,

“I don’t have any particular pain.”

“Is that so?”

The snake-like eyes curved gently into a smile.

“Hm. I’ve already taken your money, so I should treat you… but if there’s nothing to fix, that’s a problem.”

“You don’t need to trouble yourself. I just heard you had a special menu and decided to try it.”

“Oh my. You must be quite wealthy.”

“I don’t usually lack for money.”

Better to play the role of a carefree third-generation tycoon than draw the Designer’s attention.

Oscar glanced around indifferently and asked,

“If I’d known this was just playing hospital, I wouldn’t have needed to buy the place.”

“Playing? Playing, you say… you may think of it that way. Everyone tries it at least once as a child, don’t they?”

Unfortunately, Oscar had not.

He had been too busy scraping by in the back alleys just to survive—hospital play was out of the question.

“Oh? Judging by your reaction, I guess you haven’t. What a pity. It’s really quite fun.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Incidentally, the first participants in my hospital play were my parents.”

He closed his eyes, smiling pleasantly as if reminiscing.

“People often say parents are trees that give without restraint, don’t they? Mine were exactly that type.”

“They sound like good people.”

“They were. Truly wonderful parents.”

Oscar stared at him, surprised by how ordinary the conversation felt.

‘He seems… more normal than I expected.’

More than anything, the constant gentle smile made him seem harmless.

Why had Kaya and Oran judged this man to be so dangerous?

It was at that moment—

“It would’ve been nice if they’d lived a little longer.”

“…Did they pass away early?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I misdiagnosed them that day. Hahaha!”

The man scratched the back of his head awkwardly, still smiling brightly.

“Well, I think it couldn’t be helped now. Everyone has a first time, after all. That just happened to be my first—and my parents were unlucky.”

“……”

For a moment, Oscar couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing.

So… during hospital play, he killed his own parents?

And he was saying this with a smile?

Seeing Oscar’s lack of response, the Designer shrugged.

“Was that a bit heavy for a first meeting? I was just so happy to see you.”

“…Happy?”

“Of course. I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long.”

With a look of pure delight, the Designer proudly declared,

“I’ve clipped and collected every article and magazine that featured your photo. Oscar Crucian.”

“…!”

Alarm bells rang in Oscar’s head.

Whether it was the chill radiating from the Everlasting Froststeel around them or something else, a creeping dread crawled over his entire body.

“I was genuinely shocked, you know. That you’d come to me of your own accord. Isn’t this fate?”

“……”

“But I’m honestly worried. You’re not sick, are you? You mustn’t be sick. You might be the owner of the most perfect mana circuit I’ve ever sought.”

A thin sigh escaped as a cloud of breath.

Oscar fixed him with a sharpened gaze.

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“If you know who I am, then there’s no need for me to go back. A mage from the White Tower came here recently, didn’t he?”

“Hmm? Ah? Well… I don’t know. What did he look like?”

“His name was Chester Landus. A 7th-level mage of the White Tower.”

“I’ve never heard that name… but a White Tower, 7th-level mage…”

After pondering for a while, the Designer clapped his hands.

“Ah! Are you referring to the mage who illegally trespassed into my shop?”

“……”

“This operating room normally requires payment to enter. But that mage had the nerve to sneak in.”

Thinking about it, it was unlikely Chester had paid to get inside.

He had probably beaten up the two 6th-level knights guarding the entrance.

“So what did you do?”

“That day was rather important to me. I had a private meeting scheduled with the commander… Ah, you do know I’m part of the Violet Brigade, right?”

With a faint smile, the Designer handed over a medical chart.

Without taking his eyes off him, Oscar snatched it and skimmed the contents.

[Unidentified Patient – Forced Discharge]

“…Forced discharge?”

“Yes. I returned him quietly, in my own way.”

Taking back the chart, the Designer continued,

“I haven’t seen him since.”

“…….”

His eyes weren’t lying.

Or perhaps… he was simply very good at lying.

After a brief pause, Oscar asked,

“If that’s true, you won’t mind if I verify it myself.”

“You may, if you like. But how exactly do you plan to do that?”

The moment permission was given, Oscar drew up his mana.

“Like this.”

‘Wind Archive.’

In an instant, a thick book materialized above his palm.

Oscar flipped through its pages and ignited one.

“Reproduce the moment Chester Landus visited this place.”

Everlasting Froststeel disrupted mana flow when present in large quantities.

Under normal circumstances, casting magic here would be unstable.

Yet Oscar cast the spell as smoothly as ever.

The Designer’s eyes sparkled with interest.

“You’re using magic just fine despite all this Froststeel.”

“You just correct the fluctuations as they happen.”

“Oh? To realize that in real time… impressive.”

“…….”

Ignoring him, Oscar watched as the scene unfolded before his eyes.

The perspective resembled a surveillance camera covering the entire operating room.

The Designer was smiling as he organized surgical tools, while a man stood with his back turned.

He was gently stroking the Froststeel when he spoke.

—It’s noisy outside.

The voice didn’t sound human.

It was closer to the mechanical tone of a magitech golem.

—I’ll check immediately—

Before the Designer could respond, the door burst open and Chester stormed in.

—Gilly! Where are you?!

After glancing between the two, Chester rushed toward the man with his back turned.

—Gilly! Gilliot Dominic! Come back home with—

—Excuse me.

Chester slammed into the opposite wall.

The Designer had intercepted him.

—Commander. What shall we do?

—……Deal with it quietly.

What followed was a one-sided battle.

Chester’s wind magic never once reached the Designer.

—Take him out. Oh, and per protocol, sprinkle some salt as well.

—Yes!

The guards dragged the unconscious Chester away.

The recording ended there.

“…….”

Having seen everything the Wind Archive showed,

it was clear the Designer hadn’t lied.

‘He didn’t lie.’

Though “forced discharge” wasn’t what Oscar had imagined, it was still within an acceptable range.

At least Chester hadn’t been critically injured.

“That’s a fascinating spell,”

The Designer said, eyes glittering.

“So this is one of the high-tier magics the White Tower recently restored. Could I learn it too?”

“High-tier magic is restricted to White Tower mages.”

“Then I’ll join the White Tower.”

Oscar stared at him, taken aback by the instant response.

“…If you plan on joining, at least clear the imperial bounty on your head first.”

“Ah. Is that the issue? Unfortunately, that’s beyond my ability. How regrettable.”

Honest about his desires, quick to give up.

His behavior was oddly childlike.

“Has that man gone missing?”

“How did you know?”

“Because that’s why you came here. If he left and still hasn’t returned to the White Tower, then he must be following the commander. Personally, I believe that’s the case.”

“…….”

Oscar agreed.

He didn’t know what Chester had sensed, but he had called the commander ‘Gilly’ in that moment.

Even as he was being dragged away, he’d been shouting the name.

Then, with a gentle smile, the Designer spoke softly.

“Shall we make a deal?”

“What do you want?”

“I’ll tell you the commander’s location. In return, I want just one thing.”

His gaze resembled that of a fanatic.

Those snake-like eyes, glittering with desire, wrapped around Oscar like coils.

“Allow me to diagnose you.”

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