The Male Lead Is Obsessed With My Health Chapter 212

“Mehen, something feels off.”

Is there really someone who spent money like water at the auction and still didn’t get what they wanted?

“There’s been no contact from the Black Market.”

It had been two days since the auction was suspended.

By now, something should have happened—but there was nothing at all.

“That is strange. No one spent more money than you that day, Miss.”

“Could it be that they’re lying low because of the attempted theft incident? I heard security in the capital was tightened this time.”

“Then there’s a chance it’s been called off.”

“No way!”

Was the auction that easy? That flimsy?! Don’t fold over something like this!

“Don’t tell me the Black Market auction already ended?”

“No, that’s unlikely.”

“How would you know that when you don’t even have a ticket?”

“The Black Market opens after the Founding Festival ends. Before the nobles who gathered in the capital disperse, they stop by there one last time.”

Apparently, many people shop at the Black Market and then immediately return to their territories to avoid being tracked.

“I know that, but the problem is—how am I supposed to get in?”

At this point, a question occurred to me.

Just how did Master plan to obtain the relic from the Black Market in the first place?

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

“A ticket? What is that?”

“…Huh.”

“Isn’t it something you can just buy as long as you have money?”

“…Right.”

Curious, I ran over to ask him—and the answer I got was a masterpiece.

Yes. I really shouldn’t have expected so much from Master.

“Here, eat this. I bought plenty.”

I carefully placed the bread he’d liked before into his hand.

Master blinked. He looked displeased—like he wasn’t sure what to say.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

“Why are you looking at me with such insolent eyes again?”

“Just because.”

“Just because?”

“I suddenly thought it’s a good thing you’re a fairy, and a Grand Mage.”

And a homebody, and a hardcore truth-seeker.

Maybe those little things were what kept him alive all this time?

“Are all immortals like you, Master?”

Master—who had no common sense or social skills, yet had an uncanny ability to notice insults or disadvantages to himself—looked at me coldly.

“You seem to be growing more insolent toward me.”

“I’ve always been like this, though.”

“…That is true.”

Master drooped visibly. It was funny.

“You really can’t scold me when I’m right, can you?”

“When you speak the truth, how could I scold you?”

“Most people scold you anyway.”

Master tilted his head, clearly not understanding.

When adults get flustered, they usually fall back on authority—How dare you talk back? How dare you challenge an elder?—and browbeat you into submission.

Master had none of that. Strangely so.

Was it because he was always respected without needing to assert authority? Or because he was immortal?

“‘Immortal’ is not a race. It’s merely a title given to those who ended up in similar circumstances. Their personalities, tendencies, races—even what they desire—are all different. If there’s anything they share… yes, there is one thing.”

“What’s the same?”

“The moment they gained immortality. And…”

“…?”

Master’s gaze wandered through empty space, growing distant.

There are two ways to irritate someone—one is stopping mid-sentence.

“Arell, are you truly not curious about your biological father?”

“Why? Are you going to find him for me?”

“If you wish.”

“…What?”

My eyes widened, and Master hesitated before adding carefully,

“A sentient being’s desire to know the reason for their birth and their origin is instinctual. Seeking one’s roots is natural. Yet you are… excessively indifferent to your biological parents.”

He seemed to find that strange.

I knew it might look strange. But still…

“Master, do you know why a child loves their mother?”

“…?”

“I don’t either.”

Even without knowing why, I loved my mother.

Who she was didn’t matter. I wanted to meet her expectations, to fulfill her wishes.

At that time, she was my entire world.

Yes—there was a time like that.

“I think it’s because I already have different roots. Roots so firm they can never be pulled out, inside me.”

Even if I reincarnated, as long as my memories remained, I wouldn’t change.

“Still, you will need to find them someday.”

“Really?”

Master, looking dissatisfied, took out another piece of bread and bit into it. Watching him eat, I thought—

I should’ve brought something to drink, too.

“But Master, how about this—why don’t you look for my dad with the same motivation you’d have to look for my biological father?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“……”

Master looked at me like I should obviously know the answer.

Just what did my dad even do to him?

“Your father is, and also… no.”

“Master, that’s such an infuriating habit. Why do you always stop mid-sentence?”

“Because words cannot be taken back once spoken.”

“So you really won’t help unless I bring the actual relic?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh, how am I supposed to get it then? Steal it?”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“Are you seriously encouraging your disciple to commit theft?!”

“I have never taught you morals.”

“I think that’s something you really should’ve taught!”

“……”

Master drooped again.

“Right?”

“What is with that expression?”

It was the face of someone who had ruined at least one disciple before.

Wait—does he actually have a record?!

“Then, a lesson in morality—”

“I’ll be leaving now.”

 

 

*****

 

 

Ah—I had something I wanted to tell Master, but I forgot.

I only realized it after leaving Master’s domain, but since I was still inside the Sky Tower, I figured I could just tell another mage roughly and be on my way.

The high-ranking mages were still drained of all motivation, plastered against the floor like cosmic dust.

“Heghe-nim.”

“Well, look who it is. Isn’t this the unparalleled genius Arellin who snatched away my 102 years of magic in one go?”

“I think I saw that.”

“…That?”

“A defector?”

The atmosphere froze instantly.

All of them, who had been slumped and melting into the floor, lifted their heads toward me at once. The sight looked exactly like a scene from a horror movie I’d seen in a past life.

“W-What did you say you saw?”

“A traitor? A turncoat? A dark mage? I don’t remember exactly what they called them.”

On the day I was officially recognized as a high-ranking mage, I took the mage’s oath and was told various bits of history tied to the Mage Tower.

About the three great stains of the Mage Tower—and about the defectors.

Everyone had said it casually, like, Now that you’re a mage too, just know this in case, but I never thought I’d actually see one myself.

“They were aiming for an auction item. They called it a ‘Door.’”

“Door?”

“The other posthumous work of Grand Painter Lord Grander—Silent Memory. Do you know it?”

After a brief silence, the Sky Tower instantly turned into a marketplace.

People shouting that they needed to open Bregemin immediately, that they should go down and investigate first, that they had to call Master.

Watching the Sky Tower fall into chaos, I left. Well, I’d said enough—surely they’d handle the rest.

 

 

****

 

 

As for the Black Market ticket, Mehen said,

“Approaching an existing member who likely has a ticket and accompanying them seems to be the most realistic option. I’ll look into it.”

With her taking full responsibility for it, my schedule suddenly went completely blank.

“Rena! What about working with the investigation bureau and just raiding the place?”

“Then all the auction items would be confiscated. Wouldn’t that be a problem for you?”

“…Right.”

My goal wasn’t to crush the Black Market—it was to get the relic.

If only the buyer records were clear, I could try contacting them separately after the auction ended and buying it directly, but…

“Now I get it! Why the tax office pours billions every year into building electronic filing systems!”

Down with under-the-table transactions!

“Our young lady is saying strange things again.”

“Mages are just like this.”

“Yes, yes, Mage-nim. Then shall we go get some ice cream?”

“Yeah. Let’s at least do that.”

Being led by Rena down to the first-floor lobby, I found myself taking in the hotel scenery anew.

“I still can’t believe this hotel is the twins’ work.”

“I heard you provided the original idea, miss.”

“Did I? I don’t remember.”

Somehow, we’d ended up staying at the hotel indefinitely.

Rena said with a smile,

“This may be the first Spherom Hotel, but you hardly ever see the twins here.”

“Really? There’s one over there.”

“Pardon?”

I’d thought the lobby felt unusually noisy today, and now I knew why—because of someone who stood out even from a distance.

‘Is that Siel?’

That angelic appearance everyone talked about when we were kids was still intact as an adult.

He grew up well.

“You’re not going to say hello?”

“Rena, after the way Pession treated me, you think I’m going to step forward now? Forget it. Let’s just get ice cream.”

It was enough just knowing they were living well.

Honestly, I was a little scared that the twins’ brand of madness would be even worse than what Pession had shown me.

Pushing thoughts of the twins aside, I was pondering what flavor to get today when it felt like shrieks—or something like them—were drawing closer from behind.

For some reason, I felt people’s gazes turning toward me.

Was it just my imagination?

Just as I thought that, someone suddenly grabbed my arm.

“Arellin?”

Siel had come right up to me, staring with a shocked expression.

…?

How did he recognize me?