275 lines
8.2 KiB
Markdown
275 lines
8.2 KiB
Markdown
---
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title: "Chapter 7: A Life-Changing Opportunity (Part 2)"
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slug: "ch-7"
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novel: "Infinite Mage [Remake]"
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number: 1
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views: 2850000
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likes: 198000
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wordCount: 3600
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createdAt: "2020-01-17"
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---
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Vincent grabbed Shirone’s shoulders and shouted.
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Vincent: "Shirone! Why did you agree? This is dangerous! No—this is my fault! Your foolish father didn’t know better! We should refuse!"
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Shirone: "It’s alright, Dad. As long as I don’t leak anything, I’ll be fine."
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Vincent: "It’s not that simple! How can any secret stay hidden when humans are involved? This is madness! I’ll take responsibility and reject it!"
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Shirone shook his head.
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He was lucky to have such caring parents.
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Shirone: "Father."
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The sudden honorific left Vincent stunned—but what shocked him more were the tears streaming down Shirone’s face.
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Vincent: "Sh-Shirone..."
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Shirone: "Thank you."
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With arms wide open, Shirone smiled brightly.
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Shirone: "You’ve given me the greatest gift in the world."
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Vincent: "Ugh—!"
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Vincent broke down, forgetting all dignity. Had he ever seen his son’s face so full of joy?
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Vincent: "Don’t worry, Shirone! No matter what, your father will protect you! Just focus on doing your best—I swear I’ll keep you safe!"
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Shirone: "I will, Dad."
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Vincent: "That’s my boy! My treasure!"
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As father and son embraced, their mother, Olina, wiped away tears of happiness.
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One Week Later
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The Ozent family’s common servants arrived to collect Shirone.
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Though the work would span over two years, Shirone’s belongings—a life lived humbly—fit into a single backpack.
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Temuran had agreed to pay 20 gold per month—a fortune for a hunter, given their family’s monthly expenses had never exceeded 4 gold.
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Would this house be a little more luxurious when he returned?
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Shirone knew his parents’ nature, but he forced himself to imagine a brighter future, shaking off his reluctance.
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The servants briskly finalized the contract, and before Vincent could properly say goodbye, Shirone was already in the carriage.
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’This is where it begins.’
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Contrary to his worries, Shirone’s mind was calm.
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He hadn’t shown it to his parents, but now was the time for cold judgment, not emotion.
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As he entered the Spirit Zone, he sensed his parents’ anxiety through his heightened perception.
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’Don’t worry.’
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The moment he willed those words, Vincent and Olina suddenly felt warmth in their hearts.
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Vincent: "Shirone..."
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It wasn’t magic—just a son’s heart reaching theirs.
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Servant: "Depart!"
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As the carriage rattled forward, Shirone’s consciousness flickered in the Spirit Zone, but his eyes remained closed.
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’Stay steady.’
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Entering the Ozent family was a double-edged sword—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and a deadly risk.
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Could he survive two years in the clutches of the powerful?
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’Focus.’
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Surrendering to the unknown future, Shirone sank deeper into the Spirit Zone.
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The Ozent Family
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The Ozents were a military house, known for producing nationally recognized 3rd-grade swordsmen.
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Servant: "The family head, Ozent Bishop, is a 4th-grade knight—the current military commander of Creas City. In short, he holds the real power here."
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As the servant explained, Shirone stared at the mansion’s grand gates.
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Shirone: "Wow."
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A colossal road cut through the estate like a streak of lightning—the Ozent family’s pride, the Great Straight Path.
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’A road with no obstacles... fitting for their unyielding nature.’
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Servant (smirking): "Scared already? Don’t be. The family members are even more monstrous."
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Elderly Servant (snapping): "Watch your tongue. Want to lose your head?"
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The older servant led Shirone not down the main path but through a garden detour.
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The servants’ quarters were in a circular four-story building, where Deputy Butler Temuran awaited.
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Temuran: "You’re here. Follow me—I’ll explain your task."
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Shirone: "Yes. I’ll work hard."
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Ignoring the greeting, Temuran grabbed thick documents and headed to the library.
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When the old iron door creaked open, Shirone’s breath caught.
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A world of books.
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From the second floor to the fourth, shelves stretched endlessly, packed with knowledge.
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Shirone: "Hah..."
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The scent of paper filled his lungs as he clenched his fists.
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This was worth risking his life for.
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Temuran: "You’ll relocate these books to the new library. Your job is classification. Every week, I’ll give you a list—find and organize the books accordingly. Work hours are 9 AM to 6 PM. Outside that, you’re free—but you cannot leave the estate. The head servant will brief you on rules. Understood?"
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Shirone: "Yes. When do I start?"
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Temuran: "Tomorrow. Unpack and rest today. Memorize all rules by then."
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The Task Begins
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The next day, Shirone realized why this job required only one person.
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Temuran’s list contained hundreds of titles with subjective classifications.
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For example: Should The History of Swordsmanship go under History or Swordsmanship?
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’Temuran set the broad categories. I just need consistency.’
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Shirone prioritized:
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History was broad, Swordsmanship specific—so he filed it under the latter.
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Establishing his own system took two weeks—but even this was enlightening.
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All knowledge is connected.
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Soon, he met deadlines effortlessly.
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’Now... time to read.’
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This knowledge would become his greatest weapon.
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But with 10,000 books and barely two years, reading all was impossible.
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’Where to start? Randomly?’
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Then—inspiration struck.
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Shirone: "Of course!"
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Since knowledge is interconnected, mastering one field first would accelerate learning others.
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’Which field?’
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His lips curled.
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Shirone: "History."
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The backbone of all knowledge—where religion, science, magic, war, and politics intertwined chronologically.
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By his own catalog, the library held 850 history books.
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’I’ll read all 850 in two years.’
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He would build his spine of knowledge!
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The Grind
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From that day, Shirone read past work hours, skipping roll call under the guise of overtime.
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Truthfully, aside from Temuran, no servant cared about a temp worker.
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’This is... hard.’
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History was brutal for a boy raised 15 years in the mountains.
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Unfamiliar continents, names, and events refused to stick.
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’Should I just memorize?’
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He shook his head.
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’Understanding is faster than rote learning. Even one event must be fully grasped.’
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Progress slowed—some weeks, he barely finished one book.
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Exhaustion overtook him; he often collapsed in the library.
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Temuran’s Judgment
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At 4 AM, Temuran entered with a lantern, watching Shirone—as he had every night.
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His eyes fell on the book at Shirone’s feet.
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’The same one.’
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Despite its simplicity, Shirone hadn’t progressed in half a month.
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Temuran smirked.
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"Fool. Dreaming big with just literacy?"
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Success required both intelligence and shrewdness—Shirone had neither.
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Three Months Later
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Shirone grew efficient at classification and learned startling truths—like how nobles didn’t care if books leaked.
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Their secrets were orally passed, and nobles had too many concerns to fret over missing books.
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But that didn’t make things safer.
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A noble’s indifference was upheld by servants’ fanatical diligence—one mistake, and they’d kill without hesitation.
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The gap between nobles and commoners was staggering.
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An Uninvited Guest
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One afternoon, the library door burst open.
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Rian: "Ugh, that damn old man! Can’t he give me one day off?"
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Shirone blinked at the unfamiliar boy—Ozent Rian, the family’s youngest son.
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Built like a warrior, he stood a head taller than Shirone despite being the same age.
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Voice Outside: "Rian! You dare run? If I catch you, it’s 100 extra laps!"
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Rian: "Damn it!"
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Panicked, Rian ducked between shelves—then spotted Shirone.
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Rian (grabbing him): "Hey! Don’t tell him I’m here!"
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He hid under a shelf just as a towering old man stormed in.
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Old Man: "Riaan! I know you’re here!"
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White-haired but broad-shouldered, the man loomed like a giant, his piercing glare locking onto Shirone.
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Old Man: "You! Seen a blue-haired brat the size of a peanut?"
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Shirone hesitated.
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Blue hair, yes—but "peanut"?
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Shirone: "If you mean Young Master Rian... he’s under that shelf."
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Rian (scrambling out): "You traitor! Wanna die?"
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The old man grinned.
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Old Man: "Good. Now—100 laps, boy." |