After finding more leisure time, I focused more on Professor Irien.
Of course, the housekeeper could handle most tasks alone, so I didn’t necessarily need to assist her.
However, there was no reason not to, either.
With so much time on hand, why wouldn’t I invest some of it in her?
That’s why I served her lunch daily.
I prepared it delicately to suit her taste, and she thoroughly enjoyed the process.
So, when I was preoccupied reviewing Professor Heisen’s papers, she occasionally displayed a displeased expression, as she deeply valued this time.
Today, however, she was different.
When I went to prepare the meal, she showed no interest in the ingredients I brought.
Unlike her usual self, she didn’t ask what I planned to cook.
Instead, she called me over with an excited expression, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
“This… What’s going on? Tell me quickly. I know you know something. I saw you meeting with him,” she said, pointing to the mirror floating in front of her.
In it was Jun, his face brimming with excitement.
It seemed like an image from yesterday.
I let out a wry smile.
It had been over four months since the professor lost interest in the tower’s battles.
It was understandable.
The battles she anticipated and enjoyed only occurred a few times in the beginning.
Once the factions solidified their positions, large-scale battles ceased, leaving only minor skirmishes.
Her interest in the tower’s affairs gradually waned, to the point she nearly neglected her lectures.
If I hadn’t noticed the signs, things could have gone awry.
Paying close attention to her, I managed to restore her enthusiasm through consistent care, including these lunches.
Nonetheless, it was surprising to see her so excited about something happening in the tower again.
And to be fair, it was a noteworthy event.
Jun’s group had about twice the numbers compared to the noble families’ faction, but that wasn’t the significant difference.
The true disparity lay in power.
Five individuals, including Hong Ryeong, were the cornerstone of the noble faction’s strength.
They were the strongest five in this lecture hall.
No matter how many Jun’s group sent, they couldn’t overpower these elites.
That was the level of difference between them.
Yet, despite that gap, Jun’s group achieved victory—a rare feat in both the university and the magical world.
So, it made sense that she was thrilled.
Even I was curious about how the event unfolded.
However, I refrained from looking into the bulletin board he requested to open.
It felt impolite toward a guest.
But even without checking, I could guess how the story progressed.
While I hadn’t realized his intentions earlier, the results now shed light on the purpose of the secret board.
Rather than dwelling on the details, I marveled at Jun’s ability to seize opportunities.
The university had similar tools—Information Stones, Sound Transfer Orbs, and Communication Mirrors.
Most people considered the Mirror Bug to be just a slightly more convenient tool.
But it was far superior to the others.
I could say this confidently.
Most of those tools were expensive, consumable, or required substantial magical power.
The Mirror Bug was the opposite: cheap, durable, and required no magic.
Its only limitation was its short communication range.
To think he identified the board’s core use and orchestrated a strike.
It made sense in hindsight.
Whether it was obtaining treasure, accessing the second floor, or selling dolls, he always took the lead.
It was hard to understand why he had remained on the first floor for so long.
Among wizards, there was a saying that life presents three great opportunities.
Perhaps this lecture was such a moment for him.
Of course, seizing such an opportunity was also his skill.
Regardless, I didn’t give this incident much thought, continuing my tasks as usual.
The professor, however, seemed quite different—very different.
“Hurry and tell me already!” she urged.
She must have grasped the general situation, knowing I had met with him.
But she seemed to want more details.
I had to oblige.
Her curiosity took precedence over courtesy to my guest.
“I haven’t checked myself, so let’s look together,” I said, summoning the Mirror Bug from the corner of the room.
This one was made specifically for her.
It was about five times larger than a typical Mirror Bug, capable of displaying Professor Irien’s full reflection.
The oversized mirror floated before us, projecting its screen.
“Enter the secret bulletin board we made before,” I instructed.
The Mirror Bug displayed the board.
It was invisible to ordinary screens, accessible only to those chosen by Jun.
Others didn’t even know of its existence.
***
[Attack Plan (Draft)]
That was the first post visible upon opening the board.
Many other posts preceded it, but understanding the basics required reviewing this foundational plan.
I commanded the Mirror Bug to open the post.
A densely packed set of data appeared on the screen.
The most striking feature was the enormous map in the center.
It depicted the second floor of the tower in meticulous detail.
It wasn’t just the terrain.
The map documented the number of people in each room, their entry and exit times, and patterns of movement.
Even these minor details were all recorded, creating an overwhelming display.
The analysis of defensive wards in each room was equally meticulous, specifying who maintained them, the magic’s intensity, and the number of layers involved.
Given the level of detail, it was clear that an informant had infiltrated the opposing side—likely someone in a core position.
The ambush planned using this foundational information was straightforward: exploit the defensive weaknesses and launch a simultaneous assault.
That was the entirety of the draft.
“Next one,” the professor instructed.
Following her words, I moved to the next post.
It was a slightly revised plan.
The information on the map was more detailed, and the assault strategy became clearer.
The approximate schedule for the ambush was set, and the allocation of personnel was outlined.
One post after another, the entire plan unfolded until it reached execution.
Seeing how they overcame the noble families’ forces, I finally understood.
From the start, they had no intention of engaging in unfavorable battles.
Instead, they targeted rooms momentarily left unguarded by the noble families.
It was an incredibly efficient strategy.
The last few posts were filled with traces of these assaults.
Jun left instructions, and others responded to his posts, coordinating their actions.
Every moment, they used this bulletin board for seamless communication.
The urgency of unexpected situations, the brilliance of their quick responses—these elements were captured in the posts.
Reading them, I could easily imagine how the operation unfolded.
The entire ambush couldn’t have taken more than an hour.
The timestamps on the posts confirmed as much.
I found myself admiring Jun’s meticulous planning and extraordinary intellect.
“These guys are interesting,” the professor remarked, nodding and smiling.
Through this effort, they captured two rooms on the second floor.
Their territory, previously limited to one room on the second floor, had now expanded.
Securing more rooms meant gaining more magical resources—a crucial development for Jun’s already numerous group.
“This seems to be the end. I hope you found it satisfactory,” I said, closing the bulletin board.
The Mirror Bug turned off the screen and returned to its original spot.
Professor Irien slowly nodded.
“It was excellent. This is exactly what I wanted.”
“In that case, I’ll prepare lunch now,” I said, gathering the ingredients I had left on the table.
She glanced at them briefly.
Now that her curiosity had been satisfied, she seemed interested in the meal again.
“I’ll be making grilled skewers with shadow lizard meat today. Please wait; it’ll be ready soon.”
“Alright,” she replied with a smile, sitting at the table.
I quickly began cooking.
It took nearly two hours for her to finish her meal, satisfied.
***
Afterward, I went to see Jun.
“You’ve come!” he greeted me warmly, wearing a triumphant smile.
Bowing deeply, I addressed him.
“I must apologize. I ended up peeking at the bulletin board.”
His smile faded slightly, but I continued with a gentle smile.
“I had no intention of looking, but Professor Irien was curious about the process. She seemed very satisfied as well.”
Hearing this, he burst into a hearty laugh, waving off my concerns.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I anticipated the information would get out anyway. With over a hundred people involved in this operation, how could we keep it hidden? Next time, everyone will defend more thoroughly.”
Crossing his arms, he exuded confidence as he continued with a smile.
“This incident has left a strong impression on others, and I’m satisfied with that. This will be a significant asset for me in the future. By the way,” he said, glancing around before making a circular gesture with his fingers, his smile growing lighter.
“Now, Mr. Evron, you’ll be earning quite a lot from this, won’t you?”
“Yes, all thanks to you, Jun.”
“Ha! I intentionally set the bulletin board fee at a thousand points, thinking of you,” he said, laughing.
‘Thinking of me? More likely, it was to keep other groups in check. Jun’s group, being large, could shoulder the cost more easily.’
Hiding my true thoughts, I nodded in agreement.
“I gain reputation, and you gain points. Isn’t this a mutually beneficial arrangement?” he remarked with a hearty laugh.
I joined in his laughter.
Regardless of his intentions, the fact remained—he had helped me.
***
From there, everything progressed naturally.
The information spread rapidly—or rather, it would be more accurate to say it was sold.
Jun posted the entire operation on the information board, deciding that if the details would leak anyway, he might as well earn points by selling them.
Hearing my suggestion, he clapped his hands in delight.
Those curious rented Mirror Bugs to view the information.
Other groups approached, eager to establish secret boards of their own after seeing the results.
I told them Jun had agreed to pay a thousand points monthly.
They accepted the same terms and set up their own boards.
As the number of users increased, the boards became more active.
Those needing points shared information, and simple transactions began taking place.
It was like a small city taking shape.
Watching the flow of information filling the Shadow Tree, I let out a brief chuckle.