With that shout, the Regressor reached out. In that instant, her arm was severed at the elbow.

No, it wasn't severed. Looking again, I saw that she had torn open space and thrust her hand into the rift. Her upper arm was visible, but everything below the elbow had vanished somewhere, as though she'd stuck her arm out a window.

The only difference was that the window was hanging in empty air.

A personal subspace: Pocket. The Regressor possessed a treasure that was one of a kind.

She rummaged around in the spatial rift and pulled out something round and hard.

"Fine! Let's see just how well you can teach!"

With a metallic ping, the object she'd retrieved came flying toward me. I instinctively reached out to catch it, only for its weight to wrench my hand backward. The impact nearly dragged my entire body along with it.

I think I'd strained a ligament. Having barely caught it, I shot the Regressor a glare and looked down at the object in my hand.

Then I doubted my eyes.

"Good heavens. A gold coin. And a high-purity alchemical gold coin with an alchemical value of over ten thousand alke, at that. How did you get this?"

In the age when alchemists began freely transmuting matter, the value of not just currency but goods themselves fluctuated wildly, until people could no longer trust even their own assets. Even gold couldn't retain its value. Anxiety ran rampant as people worried that the wealth in their vaults might turn into worthless scrap at any moment.

That was when alchemical gold coins burst onto the scene.

Minted from the very resources required for alchemy, they were a currency with absolute value.

The Regressor, who had handed it over as though tossing me alms, answered indifferently.

"My personal assets."

"Wouldn't all your personal assets have been confiscated when you were arrested?"

"It was in Pocket, my subspace item. They never noticed it."

She dismissed the matter with that brief explanation.

Pocket, of all things. Just what you'd expect from a Regressor who collected every imaginable treasure. Even her pocket was an incomparable treasure.

I pressed my nose to the alchemical gold coin and sniffed.

"It's not a fake, is it...?"

"I own Pocket. Would I lower myself to carrying fake gold coins?"

Fair point. Pocket was a priceless treasure that even a hundred alchemical gold coins couldn't buy. I hadn't really been suspicious, anyway. That had simply been part of my expression of awe.

Besides, alchemical gold coins had intrinsic value, making them the hardest currency to counterfeit.

After alchemy became widespread, every nation on earth tried all sorts of methods to prevent alchemically produced counterfeit currency.

Naturally, the simplest method was to give the currency itself value. Alchemical gold coins were a prime example. The very material they were made from was immensely valuable as an alchemical ingredient.

Alchemical gold coins were accepted everywhere in the world and could also be used as material for magic circles. With a knowledge of alchemy, you could even break them down to make magical tools.

Alchemical gold coins: the ultimate currency, readily convertible into either cash or goods.

With an alchemical value of ten thousand alke... I might even be able to recreate the magician's props the Military State had confiscated!

"Well? Your answer?"

I put the gold coin in my pocket. And at that moment, I forgot all about it.

Once a gold coin entered your pocket, all prior debts and grudges vanished. That was the law of the back alleys. There was a reason they talked about washing your hands in a golden basin to leave the past behind.

"Now, now! Did you think a proud Instructor of the Military State would succumb to bribery? You thought wrong! Under the Anti-Solicitation Act, I hereby confiscate this money!"

The Regressor gave an incredulous laugh, then pulled two more gold coins out of thin air and waved them.

"Teach Tyrkanzyaka properly, and I'll give you two more."

"Quite apart from that, I've actually wanted to teach you about magic ever since I woke up this morning. Something about today felt magical. Let's learn about magic today."

It was far too much money to keep up that act. I immediately took my place at the lectern and finished preparing to teach.

Meanwhile, the Regressor kept trying to convince the vampire of something.

"... Tyrkanzyaka, I'm telling you again, it wasn't that I couldn't go. I chose not to. Look at him. All that secondary schooling, and a single gold coin makes him do whatever you want..."

She could say whatever she liked. All that mattered was getting those coins into my pocket. Setting my pride aside for the moment, I shamelessly began the lesson.

"Magic is, fundamentally, the act of superimposing rules upon the world... But putting it that way won't help you understand, will it?"

The vampire only wanted to satisfy her curiosity, after all. She wasn't looking for a tedious course of study starting with the fundamentals. Forget the theory. I'd keep the explanation as simple as possible.

"The most important thing is to construct a world of your own. But that's easier said than done. You can't just do it because someone tells you to, can you? That's why secondary schools, which ordinary people attend, teach magic that uses the body as a medium. The body can be considered a kind of world with a clear separation between its interior and exterior."

I raised my fingers and drew up my mana. I could feel it moving through my veins. I swept my right hand up my left arm, then tapped my palm as though playing an instrument.

"Our skilled demonstrator will now give a demonstration. Here. Watch. Set, Re, Check."

With nothing more than the appropriate gestures, incantations, and arrangement of mana, you could produce magic without understanding a thing. It was a product of the Military State's rationalism.

Level 0 magic.

"Volt."

Electricity flashed from my index finger. After sending sparks into the air, I rubbed it against my arm to discharge it.

"Fahrenheit."

A flame rose from my middle finger. It spread every which way without taking shape, so I had to shake my finger to put it out.

"Aqus."

My ring finger froze over. It was a spell for gathering moisture, but its drawback was that a moment's carelessness could freeze your finger. I wrapped my other hand around it to thaw it.

"Pascal."

POP!

Air burst from my little finger.

Whew. My greatest achievement in life—ranking first in my secondary school (using mind reading)—hadn't deserted me. I spread my arms and proudly declared,

"There you have it. Magic that uses the body as a medium and fires through the fingers. Its advantage is that you can use it without constructing a mental image!"

["... Excuse me, but your finger is bleeding?"]

The vampire cried out, pointing at my fingers. I looked back at the fingers I'd used to cast magic.

My index finger, which had produced electricity, was twitching.

My middle finger, which had shot flames, was blackened with soot.

My ring finger, which had iced over, was swollen.

And my little finger, which had raised the wind, was red and shriveled.

Ah. Hiss. Now that I thought about it, that hurt. Four different kinds of pain at once. Words couldn't describe it.

But showing that it hurt would ruin my image, so I bluffed my way through, speaking without changing my expression.

"Remember what I said? Magic is the act of superimposing rules upon the world."

["Yes."]

"I superimposed rules using my body as a medium. On my index finger, the rule that static electricity would be stronger. On my middle finger, that flames would ignite at a much lower temperature. On my ring finger, that water would cling to it easily. And on my little finger, that air would move more forcefully than usual."

Basic magic that simply produced a phenomenon within a localized area. That was level 0 magic.

I spread my fingers to display the traces it had left.

"And this is the result."

The vampire was deeply intrigued.

["It is certainly fascinating. But must your fingers be injured?"]

"It can't be helped when you use your body as the medium. Wherever the rules change, there's bound to be a clash, and my body happened to be that boundary. I have no choice but to bear the cost."

Hiding my stinging fingers behind my back, I continued my explanation.

"That's what makes body-mediated magic imperfect. So most people look for a medium other than their bodies. Some use objects such as staffs or wands, while others use familiars. They say that once you reach a certain level, you can manipulate the world itself, though I've never seen that for myself. The greater your skill, the wider the area you can affect, and the more mysterious and powerful the phenomena you can produce, or so they say."

It was just as I finished my explanation that she spoke.

"Exactly the sort of lesson you'd get in secondary school."

By now, I was getting used to the Regressor cutting in. I shrugged and replied,

"Because it is a secondary-school-level lesson."

"Right. Neither useful nor practical. Weak, too."

"It's the basics. The equivalent of multiplication tables in mathematics."

"Sure. You've certainly got the basics down. Your speed and precision are astonishing for level 0 magic. But from what I can see, all you can use is body-mediated magic. I doubt you can show us anything beyond that."

Her smug sneer betrayed a childish sense of superiority.

No, surely not. You're a Regressor, and you're feeling competitive with me? Ridiculous. You're a professional who's repeated the same life thirteen times. I'm an amateur on the stage of my own life. If you want to compete with me, make it fair and come back on your first run.

"Magic isn't my specialty."

"Heh-heh. It isn't mine either, but I can still use tactical-grade magic, you know?"

"Oh. I see."

"And you top out at phenomenon-grade magic. Heh. Is that what they call a difference in talent?"

Honestly, wasn't she embarrassed? Talking about magic she'd learned the hard way, dying several times in the process, as if it were her own talent?

Did she have a conscience or not?

"If you accomplished all of that entirely on your own, then yes, it would be a difference in talent."

I gave the Regressor a cold look and delivered that pointed remark. She flinched and began making excuses to herself.

'... I learned it through regression, paying with my life. But regression is an ability too. There's nothing wrong with showing off a little! Right, exactly! Regression is an ability. Part of my qualifications!'

Fortunately, she still had enough of a conscience to make excuses. Someone with no conscience at all wouldn't even bother. In that sense, the Regressor apparently still had some capacity for shame.

She left it at that and turned toward the vampire.

"Tyrkanzyaka. I'll teach you magic. I'm a better magician than that guy, at least."

The vampire responded cautiously, as though she deeply regretted having to ask this question but had no other choice.

["Er, did you not say you had only finished elementary school?"]

"I'm telling you, I didn't go because I didn't need to!"

["Ah, yes. Of course. It is all right, child. I do not particularly mind."]

In her own way, the vampire was trying to be considerate. Unfortunately, she was so considerate that even the recipient could tell. The Regressor's hands trembled.

'Now... I'm really starting to understand how that man feels when he insists on treating the vampire like an old woman...!'

I told you. For better or worse, she's an old woman. The vampire glanced at me and let her words trail off.

["Must we go elsewhere? If you showed me here..."]

"Magic is my trump card, and a world I've built from the ground up. It's my strength, but it's also my weakness. I can't just show it to other people."

["But he showed us his."]

"Don't compare mine to that! That's the Military State's standard-issue magic. Universal magic anyone can use as long as they meet certain conditions! Mine is unique magic that only I can use in this entire world!"

["Ah, hmm. I understand. I understand. Let us go."]

The Regressor stomped out of the room, and the jet-black coffin floated after her. Even then, the vampire kept glancing back at me with lingering reluctance.

'Isn't magic that anyone can use... the greater achievement? Hmm. I do not know. There is so much I do not know.'

She hadn't grown old for nothing. How wise.

'Even so, already dead as I am... I cannot use even that magic.'

... Well, best of luck to the two of them. The Regressor might be excited to teach her magic, but she was free to be disappointed, too. Less work for me, so I was happy...

Huh? Wait a minute. I'd forgotten something.

Oh, right. My money! My two alchemical gold coins!

I hurried after them, shouting.

"Trainee Shei! You need to pay me before you go!"

The only response was an annoyed reply.

"Tyrkanzyaka is going to learn from me. Why should I pay you?"

"You said you'd give me two alchemical gold coins! Are you going to break your promise?"

"Promise?"

The Regressor spun around and smirked at me.

"Let me give you some advice. No matter who you made a deal with, or how much they agreed to pay you... it isn't your money until it's in your pocket."

"That's ridiculous! You can't do that! If you said you'd pay, then pay!"

"Be satisfied with the advance. That's a lot of money, too... for you, anyway."

Leaving me with a little smile, the Regressor walked off with a spring in her step.

The simplest way to express the thoughts I was reading now would be a big, fat 'Nyah-nyah.' Thoroughly riled, I huffed my way back into the classroom.

"How dare she trick me!"

I was the one who scammed people, never the one who got scammed. And until midway through, she'd actually intended to give it to me! Then she'd listened to my lecture and changed her mind!

That was the sort of person I hated most: fickle people. People who never made plans, just rolled dice in their heads from moment to moment. How was I supposed to predict someone whose thoughts changed from one second to the next? The waves on a stormy sea at night would be easier to read than her.

"Damn it. To think I'd end up on the receiving end of that line!"

For some reason, that made me twice as angry. It was just as I slammed the classroom door shut that I heard it.

"Woof."

A disgruntled bark. I turned my head. Azi was lying on her belly at the back, wagging her tail despite still being in a sulk.

It meant she was getting bored and wanted attention. Even without reading her thoughts, a dog's mind was obvious.

I waved her off in irritation.

"What? What do you want me to do about it?"

"Woof."

"We're done for today. Go back to your room."

"Woof."

"What? You think you're the only one in a bad mood? So am I. My fingers hurt, and I'm not in the mood to play. Just..."

While I was replying curtly, Azi got up and slowly approached me. She still made her displeasure abundantly clear, but she came over in the end.

Spineless beast. So you haven't done anything wrong, but you want to make up? As if I'd let you.

"Can't you see my fingers? I told you I'm hurt!"

I snapped at her, showing her my four differently discolored fingers. Azi quietly studied them with a rather prim look, then leaned in and began licking them.

"What? Are you licking them because they're hurt?"

Without answering, Azi kept lapping. Her slick tongue ran up my fingers. The warm, soft sensation massaged them. I started to scowl, but at the sight of that gentle gesture, my expression softened.

"You..."

Animals lick their wounds. To prevent infection, because they itch, or simply because it's the only thing they can do.

But for a Beast King, a being embodying a concept, the act of licking itself gained tangible healing power. It didn't work on every wound, but its effects were said to surpass applying a potion.

"You're healing me."

"Woof."

Azi answered softly and carefully licked the rest of my fingers. Perhaps because she was human on the outside, even if she was a dog at heart, her small, plump tongue reached into every nook and cranny.

People often compared anger to fire, and apparently that wasn't without reason. As my fingers grew wet, both the pain and my anger subsided.

Sigh. Fine. What was the point of getting angry?

"Yeah. Dogs are better than people."

I withdrew my hand. A long strand of sticky saliva stretched after it. My saliva-slick fingers had already healed completely and returned to normal.

Humanity's greatest enemy was humanity, while dogs had always been on our side. I let out a chuckle.

"That's right! Who cares if you sneak a little food at night? If you're hungry, you can eat. Food's made to be eaten, after all! Isn't that right?"

"Woof."

"All right. I'm feeling generous! Let's open some canned meat today!"

"Meat?"

Azi's eyes sparkled. She perked up and rose, as though she'd never been sulking in the first place.

"That's right! Meat for lunch today!"

"Woof! I like meat!"

"To the dining hall!"

"Awooooo!"

I followed Azi as she excitedly raced ahead.

Forget the money I'd lost. If I broke down one alchemical gold coin efficiently, I could make a deck of cards. With luck, I might even be able to enchant one card.

Besides, the Regressor was going to fail anyway. I'd collect with interest then.

At the dining hall, I cheerfully opened a can of meat and brought all my culinary skills to bear. And then...

"You mutt! Stop picking out just the meat!"

"Yelp?! Awooooo!"

That settled it. From now on, the dog was getting nothing but beans.