Became the Villainess’s Guardian

If I couldn’t even capture the interest of a single girl, that would be a disgrace as a magician.

It would be the next most insulting thing after getting caught by my orphanage roommate repeatedly sitting up and lying down, rubbing against the wall to check if the wall-clipping glitch still worked on the night I realized this was a game world.

After spending several days cooped up in the lab, I ventured out again.

“Shall I call for Freugne today as well?”

“No, that’s alright, Director. But I would like to see the other children too. I happened to buy some treats, so it would be nice if we could all share them.”

“Ah, the idle children should be in the open area behind the orphanage around this time.”

From the third visit onward, I didn’t specifically call for Freugne.

‘There she is beyond the second floor window.’

But whenever I glanced over, I could see her peeking through the slightly parted curtains, so it didn’t seem like she was avoiding me out of dislike.

This should make conversation a bit easier.
In the end, it seemed her avoidance stemmed from shyness, and the solution was clear, wasn’t it?

“What is this?”

“Ah, you don’t know. This is called an automaton. It moves by electricity.”

“Wooaah…!”

“Shall I show you some magic too?”

“Yes!!”

Let’s see if she can avert her gaze when I openly put on a magic show.

Let me reminisce a bit first.

The more income pipelines you establish, the better.
After my plan to become the Londinium Burger Genius went to the dogs, I holed up in my room again to research electromancy while ruminating on how the pinnacle of tuning is stock performance.

Fortunately, I was able to develop an interest in magic.
This may be a fantasy world, but if it’s no different from modern reality, where’s the romance in that?
Of course, electromancy had practical uses in daily life beyond just enabling Edan’s Awesome Lightning Performance.

A magic tool is an object imbued with magic.
So if you imbue it with fire magic, it becomes a portable burner. Imbue it with the power of water, and you can create the Bluetooth faucet humanity once dreamed of in its past life.

A portable burner and Bluetooth faucet are all well and good.
But the ability to harness electricity enables the creation of autonomously moving devices that captivate the hearts of children and adults alike.

The field of electromancy had only emerged in earnest half a century ago.
With steam engines still in active use in many places over electric motors, such a sight would be unfamiliar to anyone not among the city’s elite who frequently attended Professor Magni’s touring demonstrations. Not to mention an orphanage in the slums.

“How adorable.”

“This may look simple, but it embodies the essence of modern electromancy. I extracted the materials and basic designs from my professor.”

“How does something so small move on its own? The machines at our factory are as big as the orphanage!”

“If you’re curious, allow me to explain simply. Now, look at this joint here-”

Unlike medieval fantasy where pyromancers get squeezed at power plants and hydromancers end up as cooling tower janitors in an unromantic state, this still had a fantasy flavor of its own.

Of course, just unveiling the glowing electric squirrel didn’t immediately draw Freugne out of her room. I didn’t expect to get full in one gulp either.

But no tree can withstand being hacked at ten times.
After visiting the orphanage a few more times,

“…Um, mister.”

“Hm? Freugne?”

I succeeded in my goal.

“Can I watch too?”

“Of course, come on over.”

Concealing my inner thoughts, I continued explaining to Freugne as she joined the other children.
While she was glancing more at me than the magic tool, once I started elaborating, her gaze was soon fixed on the small automated device demonstrating the Lightning Squirrel.

Unless they had fallen into this game world with a Korean language patch like me, it was quite common for slum residents to be illiterate.

While education was more widely available, it was still a privilege. Except for private tutors, it was rare for magicians to provide one-on-one field lessons like this.

The children, who should have been studying in school rather than doing half-day labor shifts, fired off a barrage of curious questions, perhaps their first time experiencing such, and I answered as simply as I could.

However, when everyone was asking “How do you use magic?” or “How does this work?”, Freugne was a bit different.

It had been several days since I started building rapport by showing fantastic magic tricks.
Finally opening up, Freugne timidly approached alone while the other children went for lunch and asked,

“So then, should I call you Magician… or Mr. Edan?”

“Just calling me mister like usual is fine.”

“Then may I ask you something personal?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Exactly what kind of work do you do, mister?”

Unable to answer that I was unemployed or essentially a home security guard, I chose my words carefully.
And instead of eating lunch and taking a nap before her night shift as usual, Freugne took this opportunity to unleash a torrent of questions.

“I heard you’re a great magician. So what do you plan to do later on?”

“I’m also curious about why you started learning magic!”

The reasons didn’t really matter.
I could interpret it as her letting her guard down, which was an encouraging result.

“Ah, and um…”

“What is it?”

“Could you… hold my hand again…?”

However, there was still one puzzling point.
For some reason, every time we met, Freugne persistently requested to hold hands.

Was it really a lack of affection? I didn’t have a particular reason to refuse, so I obliged every time, but the way she would squint suspiciously while scratching her cheek made me wonder if there was another reason.

After spending about two weeks on improving our relationship,
I judged that I had resolved any pressing matters for the time being and it was time to consider more realistic issues.

While Freugne may have been the only immediate leverage I could work with, which caused me to occasionally overlook the fact,
When tracing back to the fundamental cause behind the ruin of Londinium, the kingdom, and humanity itself, it ultimately led to the Demon King.

Unfortunately, unlike the previous hero, I lacked abilities like shooting beams from my eyes. Nor did I possess mystical folding arts to reach the Demon King’s castle by folding the land, then secretly sever his neck with pinecone grenades before returning.
Even if I tried to enter the demons’ territory by crossing the sea and borders, I would be imprisoned for illegal arms possession at the very least.

‘So what do you plan to do later on?’

Freugne seemed to realize I had quit my assistant life based on my circuitous responses, and asked this.
It was also a question that had constantly plagued me since I was five, when I acknowledged the reality that I would never awaken special abilities.

Even though over 20 years had passed since my birth, through constant recollection so as not to forget, I still remembered the map of the [Londinium Survival Journal].

Only a handful of people were walking about safely, with demons occasionally raiding.
Instead of the usual waste, the Thames River flowing through the heart of the city ran thick with viscous blood.
Barricades hinting at fierce street battles lined the path from the riverside avenue to Parliament.
The iconic clock tower at the center, where the final resistance took place, had lost its former majesty piercing the sky and lay fallen to the ground.

If my goal was to change Freugne as an individual, the donor position would suffice for now.
But if I wanted to change anything more, it would be impossible to remain just a well-off magician.

In fact, if I tried to directly intervene in the kingdom, the answer would be to enter politics, but then I wouldn’t be able to utilize any of my strengths as a magician, would I?

Moreover, even if I advocated a preemptive strike against the demon territories across the sea before the council, I would have no grounds to support it.
If I claimed to have peeked behind the veil and witnessed the future, I would only be met with looks reserved for the mentally ill. Who in this world would believe in such a ludicrous ability?

In short,
An expert in magic tools – in other words, weapons – would be the perfect fit.

Join the Royal Academy to gain suitable authority with my words, invent diligently to further build societal reputation,
And the only two places equipped with facilities to enable such work were the magic university and the royal palace.

If not as a professor at the university, my options would be limited. Research topics would inevitably be restricted by the school’s oversight.

So, then.

“I should get a job.”

“If you leave, who will do the experiments?”

“I won’t be returning, no matter what you say.”

Even the professor’s last attempt to keep his lab rat was thwarted like that.

Although he had used me as a burger meal sponge and occasionally tossed me into magic tool production,
After thanking the professor who had shown me more kindness by accepting a completely untrustworthy mere orphan as a student, I cleared out of the lab.

The time remaining until the Demon King’s Dday to invade humanity was roughly 10 years give or take.
I could still change the future where I would scavenge food scraps in the ruined city.