Once the memory flooding subsided, I decided to head home.I started to realize that the academy wasn't that big. It seemed like these were the only students, with me being the sole teacher. More like a tutor than an academy, really. And what's up with the uniforms? Discipline, I guess. Even those two commoners had them. Probably shouldn't address people by their social status—it's not like me.
After leaving the complex, I got my first live view of this world... it was inspiring. In terms of aesthetics and scenery, it truly exceeded my expectations. Of course, it wasn't 21st-century nonsense, but more of a gentle Victorian era with a slight touch of magic—did I say slight? Yeah, I mean a lot.
As I walked further, the streets were busy with life. Even though this wasn't the main plaza for the marketplace, there was still a lot of business going on. Carriages rolled down the cobblestone streets, the horses' hooves clicking as they passed. Merchants were everywhere—some with small carts, others behind counters in more established shops. The air was filled with the noise of people bargaining, talking, and shouting out their wares.
What stood out to me the most were the buildings. They were simple but beautiful, with tall arches and intricate carvings on the windows and doors. The walls seemed to tell a story, with designs of animals and patterns that wrapped around the corners. It was hard to believe this world, with its old-fashioned feel, was so underdeveloped when it came to technology. The buildings had a timeless beauty, almost like they'd been made with care and attention over centuries.
I walked past a few businessmen and merchants, deep in conversation. One man, behind a polished counter full of scrolls and strange vials, caught my ear as he spoke to a customer.
"The supplies for drop spells have gone up, and so has the demand, thankfully," he said, his voice steady and calm.
I stopped for a moment, curious. That phrase "drop spells" still seemed a little strange to me.
"I heard the Inquisition is cracking down hard on what spells can be considered drops and which can't," another voice added. "They think they have the right to control magic. Wouldn't be surprised if an uprising happened."
There was a sense of tension in the air, and it made me wonder just what kind of world I had walked into, beyond just the magic.
I wanted to understand just a little of what they were getting at. As I strolled toward the shop, I was unexpectedly greeted by the man behind the counter. And, of course—just when I needed it—my memory kicked in at the perfect moment.
I remembered his name. Sir Ryan, the man who owned the second-most prominent spell shop in Luminece.
"If it isn't Sir Victor Eisenberg," he said with a grin. The others in the shop smiled as well, greeting me like I was some bigshot.
"How's it going teaching those snobby brats?" Ryan continued, giving my shoulder a playful nudge. "The count probably pays you a hell of a lot for that gig, huh?" another guy said.
I couldn't help but chuckle, though I was still a bit thrown off. That escalated quickly.
The man was soon interrupted by Ryan.
"Kiev, that's not very kind of you to speak to an esteemed guest of my shop," Ryan said, clearly mocking the other man. "So, what brings you here, Victor?"
I stood there for a moment, unsure how to respond. What was I supposed to say? Should I act like I didn't know a damn thing about magic? I mean, I was literally handpicked by the count himself to teach at that academy.
"Y-yeah, um... what were the drop spells that came in this year, Sir Ryan?" I asked, stammering a little, but at least it was the best I could muster. Option B, or maybe C? Definitely C.
Ryan raised an eyebrow, but didn't seem phased. "I'm sure you'd be pleased with the drop spells we have, especially these five. You can tweak them once they're in your grimoire." His tone shifted slightly as he lowered his voice. "Speaking of which, I heard an underground factory for artificial grimoires was caught by the Inquisition. How the hell does that even happen? An artificial grimoire?"
What the hell is a grimoire? And the Inquisition? I muttered to myself internally. Was I supposed to act clueless? Better stick to the role. Don't draw too much attention, Victor.
"No, I haven't heard anything about that," I replied quickly. "I've been busy researching spells and focusing on my students, since it's their last year." That was a complete lie, but it felt like my best option right now.
"Oh, congrats, I guess," Ryan said, turning his back to me as he fiddled with some vials on a shelf. "It's kinda unlike you to not keep up with the news around here. But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."
He turned back to the shelf and called out to a woman beside him. "You, grab those five vials. Sir Victor will hopefully be making a purchase today—if he isn't empty-handed, that is."
I glanced at the woman, taken aback. A beastkin? Yeah, that sealed it—I was definitely in a fantasy world.
She had a collar around her neck, but not the kind you'd expect. It was made of enchanted string, flowing in a type of magic I couldn't quite grasp. I watched her with quiet awe, doing my best not to be noticed.
"Sir Victor, I present to you the five state-of-the-art drop spells, straight from the capital, crafted by the Imperial Mage himself..." Ryan said with a flourish, dramatically unveiling the vials.
"This one's a tier 3 chanting light spell. It detects any abnormality or detection magic within a 500-foot radius."
Why the hell would I need that? I thought, raising an eyebrow. I'm not planning on leaving my house for a while, except for the daily necessities—and the academy... I mean, my tutoring gig.
Ryan seemed oblivious to my internal monologue and continued with gusto. "This one's a tier 4 binding spell. You can bind any sentient being to you as a slave, but remember, follow the regulations and make sure to report to the Ministry of Domestic Affairs in the city. You know, Count Stark's lackey."
Slave? The word hit me harder than it should've. Hmm, not exactly useful. I shrugged it off.
Ryan added, with a knowing smile, "As you can tell from mine right here, you could also buy a few in the market for whatever purpose you need. Nothing like a little extra flexibility, eh?"
A slave? Really? Backwards society... I thought, shaking my head internally. I thought we were supposed to be moving towards something more modern. But no, here we are—slavery still exists. What the hell happened?
Before Ryan could start selling me any more drop spells, I quickly told him, "I've got an emergency," then muttered to myself, Wow, a merchant's ambition for selling knows no bounds.
"Wait!" Ryan exclaimed, his hand shooting up to stop me. "At least take a look at this book. I found it in some ruins up north last month. I was planning to give it away for free since nobody can read it, but if anyone can, it's probably you."
I'll admit, that caught my attention. I tilted my head and gave him a curious look, and Ryan's grin only widened.
I sighed internally and made my way over to him.
"Here, let me dust it off for you," he said, handing me the book. He began wiping it down with surprising enthusiasm, sending a cloud of dust into the air. I blinked rapidly, almost blinded by the cloud. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration...
"Take a look," he added, still grinning.
I took the book from him, my curiosity piqued. The title was unreadable, covered in a thick layer of grime. But it was what was inside that made my stomach lurch with shock.
Math. Math equations. Not just basic calculations either—there were complex formulas, quantum-level equations. And then, in faint English letters, I saw a phrase that almost made me collapse on the spot:
"Impossibility doesn't exist here."
That almost gave me a stroke.
Wasn't I supposed to be the only one here who knew English? Like… that's kind of the whole other universe package deal, isn't it? But here it was—modern-level math equations and a phrase in my native language. Impossibility doesn't exist here.
Right.
What surprised me even more than the equations was the fact that I remembered that line from the book cover so vividly. It echoed in my head, persistent like a headache. My thoughts spiraled: What if I combine my knowledge with this world's so-called magic system? Could I bend the rules here? Reconstruct reality? But that brought up the real question—How the hell did this book even end up here? Modern equations, written in English, sitting in a ruin in a world that looked like it was stuck in magical Victorian cosplay?
What else is waiting for me?
I looked up at Ryan, all enthusiasm now. "Those ruins. What else was there? Were they full of murals, carvings, unreadable texts—anything?"
My sudden spark of interest made him light up too. Of course it did.
"Yes, yes, actually," he said, nodding eagerly. "There were murals, strange glyphs—nothing we could read. I could take you there sometime, if you want. But… lately, there have been rumors. Unnatural forces. I can't promise it's safe."
"Great. Just tell me where exactly—!" I stopped mid-sentence as reality hit me square in the face.
Right… I have zero combat capabilities. I don't even know how the magic system works in this world yet. I'd get turned into magical roadkill before I stepped five feet into a dungeon.
"I would, just buy this drop spell from m—"
Before he could even finish his sentence, I forced myself back into reality and cut him off with a quick hand.
"Never mind. Thanks anyway."
Can't believe he still tried to pitch me something after all that. Merchants really don't quit.
As I walked away, I heard him shout from behind, "I'll give it to you half off!"
Yeah. Nice try.
I just kept walking.
Great first interactions and a daring piece of information already dropped on me. But what I hadn't looked at yet—my pocket change.
I reached into my coat and felt around until I pulled out ten silver coins. No bronze, no gold. From what I remembered from Victor's memories, the currency system was straightforward enough:1 gold = 100 silver1 silver = 100 copper
Simple. Efficient.
Apparently, my monthly salary as a tutor was two gold coins. Total. One gold went straight into rent for the apartment, and the other? Daily necessities—books, food, clothes, maybe the occasional "keep your mouth shut" bribe to nosy neighbors. Honestly, Victor had it rough.
No wonder the man barely had any hobbies outside of work, stress, and talking magical theories or kingdom gossip with Ryan.
I guess Ryan was someone kind of close to Victor. I'd figure out more about that later—no rush.
As I left the busy alleyway, I could finally see my place, and just a little further down, the main market street.
It looked way more packed than where Ryan's shop was.
Eventually, I found myself standing in front of my house—and yeah, let's not sugarcoat it, Victor lived a desperate life. A two-story apartment with a half-broken front door hanging on by hope and a single rusty hinge. Not that I was unfamiliar with poverty or anything, but... wasn't there any better apartment available?
Then again, homes in the middle of a prominent city like this probably cost a fortune. Still, Victor had everything he needed nearby—Ryan, the academy—
Wait. Tutor. I've got to stop calling it an academy. That'll get me caught real quick.
The market, Ryan's shop, and his tutoring job—all within walking distance. He didn't need to wander off to the other side of the city for anything.
...Yet. Please, universe, don't jinx me.
I stepped into the complex, which looked like it had been built five decades ago and maintained by someone who actively hated buildings. The main hallway was cramped as hell, with two doors on either side leading into other homes.
My place? Top floor.
The stairs looked even worse than the door. One good stomp and I was pretty sure the whole thing would collapse like a sad sandwich.
What kind of landlord charges a whole gold coin for this busted-up, cursed-ass apartment?
As I walked up the stairs, the squeaks and creaks were inevitable—what did you expect from a staircase on its last damn breath? Thank God I made it to the top floor without falling through the steps. Up here, just like downstairs, there were two doors—mine was on the right.
From what I could tell, I hadn't heard a single sound from any neighbors. Not that I minded; silence was a luxury. The only thing even remotely elegant in this whole run-down complex was the tall arched window at the end of the hallway. It cast filtered sunlight over the dusty floor like it was trying to make this place look respectable. It failed, but I'll give it points for effort.
As I walked toward my door, I bent down to grab my keys from under the mat—seriously, Victor, what the hell? Hiding your keys under the mat? That's survival 101: what not to do.Apparently, Victor believed in the "please rob me" method of home security. Real genius.
But before I could even touch the mat, I froze.
Click.
My door creaked open on its own. Slowly. Way too slowly. And from the shadow beyond it, a voice came drifting out. Soft. Feminine. Almost playful. But with that undercurrent of something... wrong.
"Welcome back, Victor."