A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 125 The Righteous

After leaving the Valuwana High School, Rorschach did not immediately return to the Tower of Stars. With his defense materials prepared and his classes completed, the young man now enjoyed a rare moment of free time.

Spending too much time in the magic tower made him feel sluggish. Rorschach admitted that he wasn't the kind of person who could isolate himself from the world for research and cultivation.

Rorschach could dedicate a month to studying magic circles, or ten days to designing the "Transmutation Dust Collector," and his spare time wasn't for entertainment, but rather for compiling basic alchemy textbooks. But now he needed to relax, taking advantage of the beautiful spring weather.

As required by the Higher Normal School, Luo Xia did not wear his mage robes to class. His current casual clothes made it convenient for him to walk around the city without attracting attention.

In spring, the sun shines even brighter, and Rocha strolls aimlessly along the banks of the Seine River. Compared to when he first arrived, there are now more carriages on the streets of Valois, many of them newer models. There are also more pedestrians than usual.

However, he noticed that pedestrians used to dress elegantly, with colors in the style of the Holy Kingdom: bright and bold. Now, many of the people around him were wearing old clothes that were not properly groomed, and their faces and hair were also unkempt.

There are small kiosks along the street that sell newspapers and other groceries. Rorschach plans to get a bottle of soda.

But a gaunt, sans-culottes-less man pounced on the grocery store like a demon, blocking Rorschach's way, and waved a crumpled River ticket in his hand: "Boss, give me a flower ticket."

"Now we sell five at a time." The shopkeeper glanced at the customer and began to rummage through the colorful little pieces of paper.

"Damn it, are we even making money?" The man raised his second hand—this time a fist. To Luo Xia's eyes, the rough grooves of his knuckles were covered in grime, and there were several scratches on the back of his hand.

"You can't buy it by the single bill next time." The shopkeeper pulled out a bill and handed it to the man, who then accepted the money.

The man who received the "flower ticket" immediately stuffed it into his pocket, looked around, and ran into the alley and disappeared.

Seeing that Rorschach was fair-skinned and clean-cut, the shopkeeper immediately changed his expression and smiled, revealing his yellowed teeth: "What does this gentleman need? Would you like to buy a lottery ticket? One livre per bet, with a maximum prize of over a hundred francs, guaranteed by the royal family."

"Isn't the minimum order five tickets?"

"Seeing your curiosity, you must have never bought lottery tickets before. Why don't you buy one and try your luck?" The shopkeeper seemed exceptionally considerate. "Someone as respectable as you, young master, would buy lottery tickets from me, usually in sets of ten. And that guy who bet on the horse race was a scoundrel; please ignore him."

It turned out to be a lottery, and it sounded like it was selling like hotcakes. He was just a mage; he didn't have the superpower to win 220 million by placing 50,000 bets. Luo Xia shook his head and declined, insisting on only buying soda.

"You can get your three-copper-coin deposit back if you take the bottle." The shopkeeper opened the bottle for Rorschach.

"What's that?" A dozen marked maps hung on the pavilion wall, which piqued Rorschach's curiosity.

"A guide to spending money! Ha, the latest new product, claiming to have gathered all the restaurants and other shops worth trying in Valuvana, basically marking all the places to eat, drink, and have fun, and even including a brochure with detailed reviews. The map alone costs twelve coppers, and the brochure is one livre."

Wasn't this the idea I came up with when I was shopping with my senior classmates? And it actually came to fruition? Rorschach bought the whole set, and on the title page of the booklet, there was a guy named "Thor" listed as one of the compilers.

I think I should ask my senior for a share of the profits as the provider of the idea. Luo Xia was hungry and decided to see if he had any recommendations. The map showed icons and stars under the shop names. Crossed forks and knives obviously indicated restaurants, cups indicated teahouses, hats indicated clothing stores, and butterflies were perched on places with names like "Moulin Rouge" and "Dreamy Valuana".

Hopefully, ideally, the "butterflies" weren't personally evaluated by the senior student, otherwise the research group will inevitably face a bloodbath sooner or later!

"Sir, please don't go any further." The shopkeeper kindly reminded Luo Xia as he put away the map and was about to continue walking down the street, "There's a group of out-of-towners ahead who don't know their own strength. It would be dangerous for a respectable young master like you to go there."

"From out of town?"

The shop owner explained, "A factory up ahead went bankrupt, and the workers aren't getting paid. They're causing trouble at the gate every day. Since they have no income, who knows what bad ideas they might have if they see someone like you who doesn't need the money passing by."

"Thank you for reminding me." How come some restaurants are going out of business? Rorschach listened to the advice and stopped going. He simply chose a restaurant and hailed a horse-drawn carriage on the roadside.

Further down this street, there are indeed many people who have lost their jobs, but instead of causing trouble, they are gathered around a young man listening to his speech:

"Listen to me, everyone, this won't get you anywhere! This place no longer belongs to that cunning parasite! You can't keep crowding around here every day, he won't show up!"

"What are we going to do? We came here to work, and there was still money to be made. But now the bread in the capital is made of gold, and the little money we have is barely enough to buy food! We don't even have the money to go back to the fields! You said if we don't catch that lying pig, what else can we do?"

The man who answered was originally a farmer, but he had a relative in Valuwana who was introduced to work in the capital's workshop at the start of the new year. He did earn much more in the first month than he would have earned farming, but unexpectedly, the workshop went bankrupt after half the village arrived! They were supposed to be paid in three-month installments, but now everyone had worked for free for two months.

You earn a lot here, but you spend it all quickly, leaving you in a dilemma. You have to make ends meet by doing odd jobs, and you also have to wait in shifts to see if you can run into that damned factory manager. Labor is not as valuable as it was when we first arrived, and without skills, you can only barely make ends meet.

The young man explained loudly, "Of course we should catch the person in charge, catch that guy, but we can appeal to the courts, petition His Majesty the King, and seek justice and our rightful money. Instead of wasting our time here doing useless work."

The people from other provinces were both excited and timid when they heard about "petitioning the king" and "reclaiming their money."

"Sir, but we can't read or write, and we don't know any 'Master.' How can we let His Majesty hear us?"

Unexpectedly, the young man was already prepared: "I've already looked into the situation here. The workshop owner is currently being sued by other creditors and has been detained. As far as I know, that gentleman still has surplus funds; he can't escape!"

Since you are owed payment, you are also creditors. I can appeal on your behalf, requesting the judge to order him to pay your share first. If the judge cannot make a ruling based on merit and justice, I will write a petition on your behalf and submit it to His Majesty!

"Who are you? Can you really help us?" The crowd couldn't believe that Valuwana was so big that a strange gentleman would step forward to uphold justice for them.

The young man's voice was firm, convincing, and incredibly reassuring: "My name is Maxim. If you all agree, from this moment on, I will be your lawyer, and I will provide free assistance to help you get justice!"

"Rock" Maxim was once again surrounded by crowds and cheers, from the town to the capital.

"Where are you going, sir?" The driver received the job.

"The Golden Crown Tavern, on Montgomery Street." The name sounded so awkward. Roscia had planned to find food near "Valuwana's Belly," but he felt he should stay away from the unreliable fishmonger and underground club member, Mr. Floran.

One more chapter is coming. This chapter serves as a prelude to later plot developments and is unrelated to reality.

(End of this chapter)