Mafia Game

Richard had a taciturn but dim-witted father, and a tenacious but equally dim-witted mother. They were a perfect match, even in the way they loved their child foolishly.

He felt stifled, like he was wearing ill-fitting clothes. He felt he was different. He felt like he belonged outside the Outcast Ward, amongst the glittering Celsius family.

If only he hadn’t been born in the Outcast Ward. If only his parents had shown a bit more will, if only he had been given the slightest chance. Richard believed he could become something greater.

Didn’t they say heaven helps those who help themselves? An opportunity came to him. A mage from the floating city, imparting knowledge fairly to all. Father Casas, the missionary, told him about it, and Richard seized the opportunity to sneak into the schoolhouse.

He was frustrated by the cold reality he first encountered, but the mage was neither arrogant nor base. Just cold.

“You have talent. Too precious to discard, but too bothersome and ambiguous to take in.”

He coldly affirmed the boy.

“If you had received proper education in an ordinary school district, you would have become a mage without much difficulty. Depending on your efforts, you might have even ascended to the floating city. But you grew up in this Outcast Ward, and your foundational knowledge is severely lacking. The day you master proper magic will never come.”

Richard knew it too. That no matter what he did now, it was impossible.

That the outcome had already been decided in a place unrelated to him.

“I cannot say your efforts are insufficient. Magic forges, mana lamps, ice crystals… all those things are made of magic. Too expensive for an Outcast to own, and you can’t even afford the mana to power them. What results can you achieve studying for a short time after labor, in a dimly lit house, groaning from hunger and thirst?”

From a black and white perspective, even simple magical tools can be used by commoners.

But they cannot maintain the magical tools, their mana is too weak to unleash their full potential, and above all, they have no money. Even in the Magic Federation, where magical tools are widespread, ‘Outcasts’ cannot use them as much as they please.

“Moreover, the spell tomes needed to learn magic can only be read by those who already know magic. Isn’t it ironic?”

Magic is needed to learn magic.

This paradoxical reality was the biggest barrier separating the boy from magic.

“You don’t have the talent to overcome such obstacles. But that doesn’t mean you’re lacking. The seed cannot be held responsible for failing to bloom in a harsh winter.”

Richard nodded. It was absolutely true. Blaming the environment is an excuse? Even that excuse is a luxury for an Outcast. For an Outcast, even life itself is a privilege that must be granted, let alone magic.

“I won’t teach you White Magic. Your talent is not special enough for me to support and care for you for three months. To me, you are utterly ordinary.”

Three months. Certainly not a short time, but Richard was so moved by the words that tears welled in his eyes.

The most accomplished mage Richard had ever seen had stated it unequivocally. Three months – with adequate support, he possessed the talent to become a mage in just three months. Several times more gifted than the average student at those middling academies.

“Instead, I will teach you Formulaic Magic.”

Formulaic Magic. The very phrase stirred a sense of unease in Richard. He vaguely knew that the Magic Federation was a land of White Magic, and other forms of magic were frowned upon.

But he wasn’t *overly* apprehensive.

Because, truthfully, Richard didn’t even know *what* Formulaic Magic was.

“Formulaic Magic involves using drastically simplified hand seals and incantations to summon high-level spells into your very being. The effects are minor, but this will allow you to overcome many of the problems plaguing you. You’ll be able to activate magic tools, and even read the crystal of a spellbook with Light Magic. Learning Formulaic Magic will be your starting point. Do you accept?”

The mage spoke only the truth. If Richard could overcome the vague fear of this new magic brewing within him, power would surely be granted.

Confronted with what felt like a devil’s bargain, Richard asked, “How long does it take to learn Formulaic Magic?”

The mage looked Richard directly in the eye and said, “One hour.”

*

Richard mastered Formulaic Magic. It wasn’t all that surprising. Even with the variances, the educational standards of the Magic Federation surpassed those of any militaristic empire. Especially in the field of magic, it stood unmatched in the world.

Richard, who had surreptitiously eavesdropped on magic lectures when he was considered beneath rank, was no different. Being naturally inclined towards studies, Richard quickly picked up the simple Formulaic Magic.

“Set, Lee. Lux.”

Richard’s fingernails emitted a bright light. Having finally obtained the magic he had yearned for, Richard spoke with a deflated expression.

“Magic is this easy?”

“Even imbeciles master White Magic. It wouldn’t do if you struggled with Formulaic Magic, which is even simpler,” I said.

It was only natural to be able to control one’s own body more easily than a machine. I briefly explained:

“Formulaic Magic uses your body, especially your fingers, as a catalyst. It’s like a magic wand in White Magic. Just like the gems used as catalysts, the structure degrades as a price for wielding magic.”

The reason mages use gems as catalysts is because their structure is uniform. Depending on the type of gem, they emit magic suitable for different spells. And regardless of who casts it, the same procedure produces the same effect.

A gem’s magical power is like a brick. A sturdy and uniform element of a grand castle.

In contrast, the structure of the human body is less uniform than a gem, and it deteriorates over time. To put it figuratively, it’s closer to a sinister, damp chunk of flesh.

If White Magic is building a tower with bricks, Black Magic is sculpting with chunks of flesh. If you want to create a human figure, flesh might be better, but only White Magic can achieve a massive, systematic miracle like a tower.

“If you use Fire Magic a lot, your fingers will get burned. If you use Water Magic a lot, your fingers will swell up. If you use Light Magic a lot, your fingers will soften, and if you use Lightning Magic a lot, you’ll get shocked, and your sensation will dull. There are risks for each, so you have to use it within the limits of what your body can handle. If you overuse it, you might have to cut off your fingers.”

“…I think I learned something I shouldn’t have.”

“That’s right. The reason Formulaic Magic wasn’t chosen as the mainstream is because it wasn’t that useful. It’s okay as long as you’re sacrificing your fingernails. They produce relatively consistent performance, and even if they crumble from magic, they grow back. But avoid using your fingers as mediums as much as possible. If you lose your fingers, you’ll lose Formulaic Magic too.”

*I* mostly used my fingers because I had to take care of my nails for card magic, but… well, I gave a scary warning, but there’s no need to worry too much. Your fingers won’t get damaged unless you use them excessively.

“Remember, Formulaic Magic is also a tool. How you use it will change your future. And…”

Seeing Richard looking at his right hand with a hint of regret, I added one last thing.

“If worst comes to worst, you don’t have to use it.”

“Huh?”

“You can learn White Magic without using Formulaic Magic. Or, you can use Formulaic Magic to overcome your difficulties and learn White Magic like you’re doing now.”

“Can I learn White Magic after learning Formulaic Magic?”

“Of course. Formulaic Magic and White Magic are just tools. It’s only natural to start with easy-to-use tools and gradually switch to more difficult and superior tools, isn’t it?”

It’s commonly believed that you can’t learn White Magic if you learn Black Magic, but that’s not true. It’s just that many dullards who don’t have the intelligence to learn White Magic get Black Magic forcibly injected into them as a shortcut, and that’s why.

His dream isn’t over yet. Even though he learned Black Magic, his potential is still open. He just obtained one “good tool”, as he said.

“…I understand!”

Richard jumped up.

“Thank you, Teacher. Whatever this is, the important thing is that I’ve gained magic, haven’t I? I can now even read the magic code.”

Before, there was no way to read it, but now, having learned Formal Magic, it was different. Shining light at the code screen, illuminating the magic code, would reveal a page of the grimoire as is.

Now Richard possessed magic. Even if it was wicked black magic, this magic would show him its wickedness.

“I’ll do it.”

Richard left the mission with a hardened resolve, ready to use his newfound power.

Silence descended upon the mission after the boy vanished. Pure white light streamed in through the windows made of unmelting ice. The statue of the holy virgin, half shrouded in shadow, watched us in silence.

After a moment, a thumping sound echoed from the confessional. The wooden door burst open, and Father Cassas, bound and gagged, tumbled out. His eyes bulging as if they might pop from their sockets, Father Cassas roared, shaking the mission to its foundations.

“You, you cursed fiend! Teaching black magic to an innocent child… Mmph!”

“I’m so sorry, Father! Please just hold on a moment!”

The housekeeper, following behind, apologized profusely as she stuffed a gag back into the priest’s mouth. I gestured for her to stop as she tried to drag him back inside the confessional. The housekeeper, glancing nervously at me, cautiously released the priest.

Having regained the freedom of his mouth, the priest pointed accusingly, shouting.

“Are you out of your mind! Do you even know what black magic is?!”

“Of course, I do.”

“Black magic is forbidden knowledge that destroys you! A foul and terrible power that corrupts your very soul! To impart that to a lamb who comes to the Church! That is damning both you and Richard to hell!”

I shrugged, answering him.

“You didn’t stop me until I was halfway through teaching him Formal Magic, did you?”

“That’s because I didn’t know it was black magic!”

Indeed. The form of Formal Magic is simple, and the phenomena it creates are similar to white magic, making it difficult to discern as black magic at a glance. To a dullard without the ability to sense magical power, it looks exactly like white magic.

“And to think there was a secret method to transfer black magic without even a ritual…”

“Oh, you know about the ritual?”

“Of course, I do! Who doesn’t know that a sinister black magician seduces people with power, to use them as sacrifices!”

Why is black magic said to be an easy magic? Because it uses the body as a catalyst. It’s obvious that using the body is easier to manipulate than tools.

However, there are two types of people who choose that path.

Those who learn black magic after undergoing ‘rituals’ like body catalyst surgeries by other black magicians, the ‘sacrifices’.

And the black magicians who command them in droves.

Father Cassas must have seen me as the latter. As an evil being who would seduce an innocent child, giving him power under the pretext of later stealing his body.

But his assumptions were wrong.

Formal Magic is not that kind of black magic, and I am not that kind of black magician.

“I didn’t do anything to Richard’s body, did I? You were watching the whole time, so you know.”

“T-That can’t be! You must have used some kind of dark art!”

“Really now. What kind of dark art could I use just touching his arm in front of you? This is a church, and the statue of the holy virgin is watching us, isn’t it? If it sensed something, it would have stopped me long ago, wouldn’t it?”

Why else would I come directly to the church and teach black magic in front of a priest?

It’s a widely known fact among law-abiding citizens that if no one sees it, it’s not a crime.

In other words, if you want to commit a crime, you must create a witness. And it’s even better if that witness is a sincere, righteous, and honest priest.

“But the murky and ominous magical power I saw was definitely black magic!”

“Originally, the Formal Magic of the Empire can only be used by piercing the biometric terminal. That’s similar to the ritual you speak of.”

The biometric terminal is the trace of body catalyst surgery. The Empire uses it like an ID card, but that’s just for outward appearance.

Teaching Formal Magic to innocent children, performing all sorts of taboos on criminals, was all possible because of the biometric terminal.

“But I can engrave a method to use the body as a catalyst without leaving any traces on the body, as you saw.”

I was even able to find Tyr’s memories. With the Lightning Thief and Tyr’s demon god now, imprinting Formal Magic on the nerves of an ignorant child is nothing. My demon god doesn’t even leave side effects or traces.

The missionary, having watched closely, knew that fact better than anyone.

And what it signified.

“Unbelievable… Could it be?”

“You finally understand.”

Here. A dark mage stands before us. No trace of ritual, no puppet animated by drugs or sorcery. To outward appearances, merely a talented, quick-witted child.

What, then, is the basis for declaring this child a dark mage?

“Leaving no trace, no alteration, possessing only acquired knowledge.”

*’That man doesn’t harbor ill will towards Richard…! He’s actually well-disposed toward Richard! He truly made a choice for Richard’s sake!’*

Ceremonial magic? Without wielding that magic, so petty even for dark magic? Remaining still, no different from a common ‘Outcast’?

“Can the Magic Federation discern who is a dark mage, who an innocent citizen? On what grounds would they judge? How would they punish?”

*’His malice is directed at the Magic Federation’s order itself!’*

A society that exists for the sake of learning magic. Differential education. And the marginalized Outcasts.

Completely forsaken by magic, born into the shackles of ignorance at the bottom of a hierarchy from which they cannot climb back. If they were to acquire unwanted power and knowledge from the Magic Federation…

“Do they have the right to trample those they’ve excluded, the ‘Outcasts’, under the heel of their order?”

I posed the question to the missionary.