As everyone’s gaze fell upon her, Lulumiya flashed a confident smile brimming with warmth.
“I’m about to embark on something truly great—a grand venture that will make waves in the Royal Capital and even ripple across the entire Ounheim Kingdom. It’ll be a massive industry, just like the Magicians’ Association, so respectable that people will envy you just for mentioning it. We already have machines, and the location for our workshop is nearly decided—the only thing left is manpower.”
“Whoever joins first will become an Elder and a founding contributor. After graduation, you won’t have to work as enforcers for the nobles. You’ll be able to establish your own households, all while remaining free. If you perform well, I’ll even give you a pay raise, prepare property and even servants for you in the Royal Capital, and help you bring your parents here to live with you.”
“Oh… ohhh…”
After hearing her grand promises, even the students who were initially resistant now showed signs of interest.
What Lulumiya said hit the sore spot of these commoner students. For commoners to make it, they either needed a talent like Eno to rely on their own skills after graduation, or they would be forced to work for great families, exchanging their freedom for a mere livelihood.
Being able to bring their families to live in the Royal Capital—that was their lifelong dream. Who wouldn’t want their parents to witness their success and praise them? If that day truly came, they would probably wake up smiling even in their dreams.
Watching the students so enraptured by her promises, Lulumiya couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. Wasn’t she just like this once, filling up on grand dreams? For a teenager who had yet to become disillusioned with the outside world, unwilling to be mediocre, always thinking they could stand out—these promises were simply too tempting.
Once the newspaper office is built, I’ll spend a little to take them on a team-building trip, to cheer them up.
Let’s just hope this world doesn’t have any Red Buckets.
“So what exactly are we going to do?” One student, eyes blazing, stared intently at Lulumiya, almost craning his neck over the table.
“I can’t reveal that for now,” Lulumiya crossed her arms and put on a mysterious air. “After the newspaper office is established in a few days, I’ll contact Sister Lijie, and I’ll have to trouble her to pass on the word.” Lulumiya sent a questioning glance to Lijie. After getting a nod, she returned to her composed demeanor.
“In the early stages, we may not need that many people, so whoever comes first will have their name recorded.”
“T-then, the wages…” the scholarly young man from before asked worriedly.
“What are you talking about, wages? Lulumiya’s already willing to help us make something of ourselves, and you go straight to money? That’s so mercenary. If you want to be a noble’s dog, go ahead.” a female student loudly ridiculed him.
Everyone shot accusing glances at the scholarly young man, making him shrink back. “I—I was just asking…”
Back in another world, human nature is universal, Lulumiya sighed inwardly.
Although she’d sold them a grand dream, she never intended to treat the students like beasts of burden. She pressed her hands down, her serious expression quickly quieting the group. Maybe their commotion had drawn attention, as she noticed other students at nearby tables casting curious glances their way.
“Don’t blame this Senior. Since it’s work, of course there will be wages. Otherwise, wouldn’t everyone be working for nothing? When you go to work—ah, pfft, how did I just mention going to work…” Lulumiya quickly corrected herself. “Why do people work?”
“To improve themselves and broaden their knowledge!” the earlier female student answered confidently.
That answer’s way too hollow, straight from the school curriculum, Lulumiya shook her head. She glanced at the others, who all looked bewildered, obviously unaccustomed to this kind of motivational gathering.
In this world, work always starts with an apprenticeship; after two or three years, you learn real skills from a master. There’s no such thing as making big promises or hyping everyone up like a pre-battle rally—no company culture like this at all.
Seeing no one else dare answer, Lulumiya covered her mouth and chuckled. “Of course, it’s to make money. Why else work?”
“Haha.”
“Lulumiya, you’re really funny.”
“This isn’t what I imagined—it feels so familiar, so close.”
The students waiting for her answer burst out laughing, their last doubts crumbling away. Lulumiya focused on the earlier female student, whose pride was bruised by her answer, making her the only one not laughing.
“What this Senior Sister said is also true. None of you have worked before, so this job will also be a good experience. Those who can persevere will be called Elders. One more thing—our workshop is collaborating with the Church, so everyone should watch your words and deeds lately, especially when speaking. Don’t say anything harmful to the Church.”
“We’re working with the Church?”
“No wonder this is a big opportunity! If my mother knew I was working for the Church, our neighbors would be dying with envy!”
“I didn’t even think of that. Lulumiya is the Assistant of that immaculate Holy Son!”
Lulumiya’s words were like dropping a bomb—the mood around the table heated up. Several students looked at her with new respect, not as a peer, but as if she were a teacher. Two of the male students even blushed, afraid to miss the chance.
That should be enough of a warm-up.
Sensing their admiration, Lulumiya nodded slightly. In this world, most workplaces are small workshops; there’s no real concept of company culture. And since the students are still young and inexperienced, it’s all too easy for them to take the bait.
All that’s left is to watch who’s likely to bail and who’s diligent. Get rid of the former if possible, and keep an eye on the latter. I’m running a company, not a charity—if someone can’t contribute, there’s no need to keep them. That rule is universal.
“Everyone, let’s eat first. Nothing’s set in stone yet.”
“Y-yeah, eat, eat! Don’t let the food get cold.”
At Lulumiya’s urging, everyone laughed sheepishly and dug in. But Lulumiya clearly noticed the students would occasionally sneak glances at her, and whenever their eyes met, they would immediately look away, as if hoping to please her.
It’s really embarrassing. I was just a corporate drone before, and now I’m a leader.
“Miss Assistant, what are you doing in the commoners’ cafeteria?”
A surprised girl’s voice sounded from above. Lulumiya looked up to see someone on the second-floor corridor. The cafeteria at Saint Istel Academy is shaped like a square, with the spacious first floor for commoners, and the nobles dining on the second and third-floor corridors.
The girl speaking sat on the second floor—a little lean forward, and she could see everything below.
Lulumiya recognized her; she’d been one of the students who handed in assignments for the Fourth Princess.
“Do you want to come up to eat? The food here is better.” The noble girl waved, extending an olive branch.
“No, thank you. I’m fine here.”
“Then, if you need anything, just let me know. Thank you for your help last time!”
“It was nothing,” Lulumiya tilted her head cutely, flashing a sweet smile fit for a young girl.
Almost immediately, the noble students watching from the second-floor corridor let out low gasps. The other noble girls dining with her even clasped their cheeks in awe, looking like they’d just been melted by cuteness.
“How do you know such an adorable girl?”
“Did you sneak food without telling me!”
“What’s her name?”
“Y-you guys, don’t tug at my clothes! Quiet down, if I told you, you’d die from shock.”
The girls upstairs started chattering noisily, and the previously quiet commoner students downstairs also grew lively again.
Lijie stared in curiosity. “They don’t look like your creditors, Mia. How did you meet them? And why do they call you Miss Assistant?”
So in Sister Lijie’s mind, I’m someone who only knows nobles if I owe them money… Lulumiya was speechless for a moment.
“A while ago I was helping the Fourth Princess with something—a side job to pay off debts. That’s when I met them.”
“I see,” Lijie nodded, then seemed to remember something. Her expression turned mysterious, even proud. “By the way, I was praised by the Fourth Princess not long ago.”
“Praised?”
Since when does Cinderella praise anyone?
Lijie’s pride was even more apparent. “Of course! Last month, the Fourth Princess came to our class to teach and gave us an assignment on our insights after using fire magic. Apparently, my assignment was praised the most in the entire department, while everyone else just got a single ‘Reviewed.’ Because of that, I became a little famous, and the teachers even pinned my assignment to the wall.”
So that’s how it is.
Lulumiya understood everything and adjusted her mood.
“Really? Congratulations, Sister Lijie!” Lulumiya beamed at her, eyes full of admiration as she clapped her hands. “As expected of Sister Lijie—earning the Fourth Princess’s recognition! Now all the teachers at the academy will surely look at you differently!”
“Hmph!” Lijie put her hands on her hips, her nonexistent tail almost wagging with pride. “If you have any questions, Mia, just ask me from now on.”
“Okay! I like Sister Lijie the most!”
Lulumiya laced her fingers and held them in front of her chest, her green, vertical pupils shining brightly.
[Mindfulness Value: 15 (Decreased by 1 due to deceiving Lijie)]
Argh, come on! Even doing something nice makes it go down!
Seeing the words pop up on her panel, Lulumiya nearly lost her composure. She was the one who wrote the praise on Lijie’s assignment, but wasn’t she just trying to make Lijie happy?!
But the panel remained silent, stubbornly deducting her Mindfulness Value. Lulumiya’s protests were useless.
When lunch was over, Lijie called Lulumiya aside, worry clouding her face. “Mia, be honest with me. Is that job you mentioned real?”
“Of course it’s real.” Lulumiya blinked in confusion. Lijie had waited until everyone left to pull her aside—she’d thought it was something important.
“But you still owe people money. What if they find out you’re opening a workshop and come make trouble?”
“Well…” Lulumiya smiled mysteriously. She glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then whispered, “That’s my secret. Please don’t tell anyone, Sister Lijie. Behind the newspaper office, besides the Church, is also the Fourth Princess. My creditors can cause me trouble, but they wouldn’t dare mess with the Fourth Princess.”
“The Fourth Princess?” Lijie opened her mouth to say something but held back in the end. She could only remind her, “Then just be careful.”
“I will. I’ll let you know when it’s time. It shouldn’t be long before I come to find you, Sister Lijie.”
“Alright.”
Waving goodbye to Lijie behind her, Lulumiya left the academy under the pale midday autumn sun, whose warmth had already faded.