Chapter 64

Thud…!

Immediately, a dull, heavy sound thundered—one that didn’t seem like it could possibly come from a bag.

“What is this!?”

As Erich looked on, aghast, Elma gave a solemn nod.

“It is gold coins. Since the currency was getting bulky, I decided to hand over the highest denomination and most portable ones first.”

“Gold coins!? This whole bag is filled with gold coins!?”

“Yes. By the way, the copper coins are taking up quite a bit of space—”

Elma dragged something out from the dim backstage area with a heavy “heave-ho.”

—Screee… Grind…

Accompanied by a low-pitched scraping sound, as if a massive sea creature were being hauled onto land, she tilted her head slightly.

“There are five more bags like this. Would it be alright to hand them over all at once after the evening session is finished?”

“—!?”

Looking at the gargantuan sack that seemed large enough to fit an entire elephant, Erich felt like he was finally going to faint.

An amount of currency this vast was something no one but perhaps a mint official should ever lay eyes on.

One could probably build a house with this.

No, judging by the price standards in Frenzel, one could build a church or even a castle.

Though he held strong pride in his grape-making, Erich was ultimately nothing more than an ordinary citizen. Faced with a situation that exceeded the boundaries of his understanding, he forgot how to react entirely.

However, his shock—which had circled back around to looking like stoicism—was apparently interpreted by Elma as pure indifference.

For some reason, her face took on a proud look—or rather, more accurately, her glasses simply gave off a proud glint—as she cast a fleeting glance toward Lucas and Irene, who were similarly frozen beside her.

“Well, what do the two of you think?”

“…Huh?”

Neither of them had the slightest clue what she was getting at.

When they asked back with puzzled faces, Elma became somewhat restless and fidgety. “I mean,” she added.

“First of all, this time, I didn’t tear the magical insects apart with the ferocity of a Hero, nor did I unleash terrifying flames like a Mage. I drove the Magic Moths away using the very ordinary method of using my voice to divert their attention, didn’t I?”

“………..”

They had no idea what she was talking about.

The moment she called generating ultrasonic waves a “very ordinary method,” her statement was already outside the realm of common sense, but the two of them held back their retorts for the moment and maintained a listening posture.

“Moreover, I acted in accordance with the common trope values found in modern stories, which dictate that ‘Nothing is born from revenge. If you are hurt, just become even happier than before!’, right?”

“………..”

Could she possibly be referring to her “Don’t settle for mere compensation; let’s aggressively exploit the Magic Moths to make a killing!” attitude?

As the two of them began to realize what Elma was trying to say, their eyes gradually drifted toward the distant horizon.

“And… furthermore. The most troubling part was deciding what ‘becoming happy’ meant in quantitative terms. However, looking at Lord Erich’s reaction, it seems I have successfully earned an amount that isn’t even worth reacting to—in other words, an amount that is neither too much nor too little. Doesn’t this serve as proof that I have completely mastered ‘that specific state’?”

“…You… Don’t you feel anything weird about the fact that you’ve earned an amount that might rival the annual tax revenue of the Frenzel territory in a mere three shows!?”

Despite telling himself to stop, absolutely stop, the meddlesome Lucas couldn’t help but shout.

At that, Elma tilted her head in genuine confusion.

“Eh…? I mean, normally, if a woman sings but once, she is offered jewels on par with national treasures, and if she stands upon a stage but once, she is offered crowns from multiple nations, right?”

“What mythological realm of dancers are you living in!?”

She was simply talking about a certain prostitute living inside a prison.

Lucas questioned her with every fiber of his being, but Elma—who hadn’t the slightest inkling that her mother’s teachings were skewed—merely gave the bridge of her glasses a firm nudge upward.

“……? Is it really that surprising? I didn’t use surgery, but strictly manual techniques to beautify the woman. I didn’t use demonic eyes to cast illusions, but strictly physical means like ultrasound to command the Magic Moths. And by putting on a performance, I received a strictly appropriate amount of compensation.”

She finished her explanation with a look of immense satisfaction.

“Doing this much is surely—‘ordinary,’ isn’t it?”

“…………”

“…………”

The Frenzel family, having seen their territory’s entire annual tax revenue earned so easily in half a day, instantly turned to white ash—Deborah and the others included.

Erich remained frozen stiff, and Irene simply averted her gaze in silence.

‘Oh, the clerk at that stall over there looks like a total “Uke”.’¹

As for Lucas—

“…No… I mean, listen…”

He broke out in a quiet cold sweat as Elma gazed up at him expectantly.

He was a man who had navigated high-stakes flirtations with countless women without batting an eye. Brushing off haughty selfishness or calculated coquetry should have been as easy as eating breakfast.

But—

‘How can she look up at me with such innocence…!’

Faced with the sheer guilelessness—the heartbreaking earnestness—of the girl before him, he found himself at a loss for words.

Because he could tell.

She truly believed it.

She was looking at him with absolute sincerity from behind her glasses, desperately trusting that she would receive that “compliment” of being called “ordinary.”

To use an analogy, he felt like someone standing before a kitten that had just offered up a dead rat as a gift, tilting its head as if to say, “It’s a present! Aren’t I a good girl?”

It was terrifyingly adorable… but no, this was a moment where he should snap back with “Hell no!”… and yet, she was so incredibly adorable.

Lucas felt something deep within his brain begin to wobble and sway with a heavy thud.

Maybe it was fine.

Since she sought “ordinariness” this much—and since she wanted to go home so badly that she was hunting for an official stamp of approval—perhaps he could just grant her that wish.

Her goal was single-minded, desperate, and childlike; knowing the underlying wish to “go home” made it seem almost pitiable.

Besides, her family home was a mere stone’s throw away.

Since a fifteen-year-old girl simply wanted to finish her assignment and return to her house, surely he could just let her—

Just as Lucas was about to give in to his own goodwill, sympathy, and temptation, his hand unconsciously reaching out toward Elma—

“—Good grief! What on earth are you talking about!?”

A particularly loud voice struck his eardrums.