The description of currency value and the financial system in the novel “Flower of Evil” is rather vague.
After all, the protagonist “Flower of Evil” is someone who is utterly unconcerned with money—more accurately, someone who has no concept of it at all.
The only thing Erica remembers about money is a line describing that a single gold coin is enough to support a family of four in affluence for an entire month.
If we translate Erica’s actions to modern terms, it would be like Elon Musk buying a Chinese pancake at a night market in China, getting so excited after eating it that he pulls out a wad of dollars and throws it to the vendor.
The vendor is left dumbfounded, unable to even utter “I can’t give you change,” before Musk says: “Good, very good pancake, I give you a tip.”
At the time, Erica found such flat, perfunctory descriptions in the novel difficult to immerse herself in, but after experiencing it herself, she realized there could be no more accurate portrayal of how extravagantly inhuman the nobles of this world truly are.
Especially considering the economic plight of the common people, the actual purchasing power of this money might be even higher than one would imagine.
“This, this is a Noel gold coin!”
It’s no wonder the girl screamed out loud.
But if she had been an experienced staff member, she’d probably have pocketed the generous tip without batting an eyelid.
Judging by her surprise, this one must be a rookie just hired not long ago.
It’s understandable.
She hasn’t weathered many storms.
Erica herself was the same a year ago.
“These aren’t enough? I thought one coin would be sufficient.”
Seeing the staff girl’s stunned reaction, Evelyn had an epiphany, and fished out another gold coin from her pocket to hand over.
In the end, the twin-tailed girl nearly fainted with happiness.
“Ah—n-no, really! Thank you, thank you! I-I’ll go get the manager!”
“Tap tap tap!”
The girl dashed off as if her feet weren’t even touching the ground.
She would probably bring back that Sprite Evelyn wanted to meet very soon.
“This is my first time giving a tip. That was fun—did I do it right?”
So naively recounting her clueless experience, she looked just like an innocent little girl who knew nothing at all.
Yet Erica couldn’t simply laugh, because what had just happened had unwittingly drawn them a huge amount of animosity.
“Hey, did you see that? Gold coins for a tip—two of them?! Which noble family’s young lady is that? Coming to this garbage dump at a time like this?”
“Must be that ‘commoner experience’ thing, right? I’ve heard that kind of crap is popular nowadays. By the way, there’s not even a single guard—was it that girl up ahead? She looks pretty frail…”
Some noticed their wealth, while others simply couldn’t stand nobles treating ordinary life as some sort of fun theme park.
Many eyes turned toward the two girls.
Even though Evelyn’s identity hadn’t quite been exposed yet, was there really any difference at this point?
Schrödinger’s Exposure, huh?
If they got themselves into any unnecessary trouble, things could get dangerous.
No, no, don’t get the wrong idea—she was talking about those troublemakers, since Evelyn was definitely not the type to show mercy.
But Evelyn seemed utterly unconcerned by all that was happening around her, and turned to Erica, saying, “Hey, did I do it right? I heard you’re supposed to give tips like this in places like these.”
“Yes, you did very well. But… wasn’t the amount a little too much? Actually, a single Copper Coin would have been enough.”
“Copper Coin? I didn’t bring anything like that. Emile never mentioned it to me.”
Well, that figured.
When she tried to buy flowers from that child earlier, she had also intended to pay with a gold coin.
Evelyn’s lack of common sense was truly something.
But it wasn’t that her head didn’t work. How should one put it—
“Miss, if you don’t mind me asking, do you know what 1114 times 1180 is?”
“How curious of you to ask that. Hmm, the answer is one million, three hundred fourteen thousand, five hundred and twenty.”
Evelyn’s little brain was remarkably sharp, her skills in calculation and logic were outstanding.
If not, she could never have become a seventh-tier Archmage who could command such complex spells.
After all, they say magic requires great mathematical ability.
I wonder if a reborn high school cultivator like me could ever walk the path of magic?
Yet, as brilliant as Evelyn was, she didn’t know that a Copper Coin was enough as a tip.
Such a fine mind, yet lacking in common sense and background knowledge—what a shame.
Though she’d grown up as a young lady completely unrelated to the throne, raised in a greenhouse like a flower, even so, one couldn’t help but wonder what sort of carefree early childhood and what kind of cruel, heartrending adolescence she must have had.
Through it all, she’d been through so much that the scales in her heart had completely malfunctioned.
That was Evelyn’s current state.
Some might say, why not just teach Evelyn some common sense?
But having ascended to the supreme throne, she no longer trusted anyone.
Even if someone told her “one plus one equals two,” Evelyn wouldn’t—or wouldn’t want to—believe it.
The only person Evelyn might listen to seriously was herself.
If you really stretched it, maybe that musclebound woman.
But rather than being a good teacher, Emile was more of a bad influence, really.
And Erica herself lacked common sense about this strange world, so she wasn’t qualified to teach anyone either.
“Mm.”
Her head throbbed with pain, but she decided to turn the headache into fuel for positive thinking.
But don’t be mistaken—Evelyn’s condition had improved a lot.
About a year ago, when she first met Evelyn at a palace party, Evelyn was like a black rose bristling with thorns.
No one could even get a word in with her, and she refused to listen to anything anyone tried to convey. Compared to back then, things were truly worlds apart now.
“A Sprite… I really want to see you soon. Why aren’t you coming out? Making me wait so long… Could the rumors be true—do Sprites really like sweets?”
Back then, Evelyn could never have looked forward to something beautiful like she did now.
This meant Evelyn could still change.
That’s right, at this point, any keen observer could see—turning Evelyn from a tyrant villainess into at least a normal person—ideally, the girl-next-door sort of normal—that was Erica’s ultimate goal.
If she just let the story drag her along by the nose, the ending would play out exactly as she knew: a hasty execution, with both Evelyn and Erica ending up on the chopping block, and nothing she could do to stop it.
Wait… why not just turn the whole story on its head?
Not long ago, preventing Count Qionov’s execution had been one step she took to change the course of the story, and it had worked out well.
Maybe, by thoroughly rewriting the plot, she and Evelyn could both escape that fate, avoid execution, and—
Save Evelyn and Erica’s lives, stabilize the Kingdom, and finally usher in a happy age of peace and prosperity!!!
Isn’t that exactly what I—Enchantress Erica Angelina—should be prioritizing above all else?
To rewrite the story’s path, she and Evelyn would have to do things they never would have done in the original novel.
She would have to break the framework, bring about changes dramatic enough to upend the whole genre.
She already had a few ideas, but the problem was she didn’t know if Evelyn or the others would go along with her.
Still, after all the effort Erica had put in over the past year, she was finally seeing some results.
This gamble was worth a shot.
After stopping Count Qionov’s execution, the confiscated dirty money would serve as her wager.
Emile had just returned from her expedition, too—now was the time to go all in.
Marvelous, marvelous—now all that’s left is to persuade Evelyn…
“Erica.”
A soft voice pulled her back to reality.
“Yes, Miss? Did you call me?”
“Over there. Those guys. They’re talking about you.”
Through the gap in her cloak, she caught a glimpse of Evelyn’s expression—unusually dark, biting down on her red lips so hard they almost bled, her eyes flashing a bone-chilling coldness, like she’d tear someone apart.
Why had Evelyn suddenly gotten so angry?
The girl turned her head and saw a few men in the corner, drinking and spouting drunken nonsense.
“That bitch Erica—changing the laws all of a sudden so now we can’t even beat or curse our own Slaves? Now, if I so much as pick up a whip, those Slaves don’t even blink!”
“What are they thinking?”
“They say it’s discrimination and abuse of Slaves, even threatening to go complain to the Government Office. Hah! Dammit, I’m supposed to be the master, yet I have to pamper my Slaves? And what’s this about giving Slaves the Minimum Wage? Pah!”
“This is just ridiculous. They should be grateful just to get our leftovers, bowing and scraping in thanks. Minimum Wage? What even is that?”
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