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Chapter 04
After my first plan failed miserably, I went back to work.
I had ambitiously declared a strike, but no one acknowledged it—people kept coming to me with their tasks, and I ended up wrestling with them, only adding to my mental exhaustion.
What’s more, the Tower Master—the one person who should have reacted—was strangely silent.
‘Some strike. At this rate, I’ll never get fired.’
I decided to change my plan.
‘What kind of stunt do I need to pull to get a reaction from the Tower Master?’
What could I do to provoke enough anger that he’d want to fire me immediately?
As I racked my brain, I suddenly remembered an ingredient I’d found while organizing the storage room.
‘That’s it—coriander…!’
I remembered exactly where it was stored, thanks to being so fascinated that this world had coriander too.
Alright. Time for a new plan.
I jumped up, went to the storage room, and took out all the coriander left there.
Then I entered the potion lab, placed the coriander on the table, and opened Serpiene’s recipe book.
It was a book where she’d recorded every potion recipe she’d ever formulated.
After flipping through the pages, I found what I was looking for and stopped.
“…This is it!”
[Sleeping Potion Recipe
- Letus leaves: 10
- Water: 20 cups
- Deadly spider venom: 3 drops
- Honey: 2 spoons
- …
- Note: If the heat is too high, the texture becomes sticky, so be sure to boil over low heat.]
This sleeping potion was specially formulated by Serpiene for the Tower Master.
The Tower Master suffered from terrible insomnia.
So severe that he’d fall asleep as if passing out every time he drank the potion.
‘Was this in the original story too?’
I’d noticed this ever since possessing Serpiene—there were so many details omitted from the original work.
Perhaps because of his mysterious, enigmatic concept, but information about the Tower Master was especially sparse.
“Well, I guess it wasn’t that important.”
After all, a sub-male lead’s role is usually to fall for the heroine without context and become her supporter.
‘…Let’s focus on what I’m doing.’
Originally, the potion had a distinct sticky texture along with a sweet yet pungent, sharp aroma.
But the Tower Master, with his extremely sensitive temperament, refused to drink it.
‘Honestly, he’s like a child who doesn’t want to take his medicine.’
If it were me, I’d have snapped and said if you don’t want to drink it, then don’t.
But the kind and diligent Serpiene devised another method.
After extensive research, she transformed the sleeping potion into a colorless, odorless liquid like water.
But right now, I didn’t need a bland sleeping potion with no taste or smell.
The more unpleasant it was for the Tower Master to drink, the greater the effect.
“Alright, time to recalculate.”
Coriander was an ordinary plant, not a magical one, so it could add fragrance without significantly altering the ingredients.
‘I can’t just recklessly throw in strange things and cause a disaster.’
Potions weren’t made by tossing random ingredients into a cauldron like in fairy tales.
Precise measurements and time calculations were essential for potion formulation.
If I had to compare it, it was similar to cooking.
I calculated the maximum amount of coriander I could add, considering the ingredient ratios.
“Ugh, look at this smell.”
The moment I threw in a handful of coriander, a pungent, dizzying aroma rose up.
I was stirring the mixture vigorously to blend the ingredients when Sila opened the door and walked in.
“Good morning, Serpiene-nim.”
Earlier that day, I’d eventually caved to Sila’s tears and agreed to handle a few difficult-to-make potions. She’d come to pick them up.
Sila placed the finished potions on a tray, then took out a new list of potions to assign me and carefully set it on my desk.
‘She’s brought me another mountain of work.’
Half-resigned, I focused on the potion I was making.
“Serpiene-nim, by the way, what are you making?”
Sila, who had been about to leave with the tray, suddenly stopped and sniffed the air, asking.
“This? Roakin’s sleeping potion.”
“Why does the sleeping potion smell like… this?”
“I added a new ingredient.”
“Hmm.”
Sila looked puzzled but soon lost interest and went on her way.
It was convenient that wizards generally weren’t interested in others, so I didn’t have to explain everything in detail.
I continued stirring the cauldron, and exactly 30 minutes later—as written in the recipe—I finally turned off the heat and clasped my hands together.
“Please, let Roakin drink this, get furious, and fire me.”
The final ingredient in the sleeping potion was a desperate wish.
Feeling triumphant, I went to the Tower Master’s room and held out a cup of the potion.
“You asked for the sleeping potion.”
Roakin took the cup, pressing his temple as if tired.
He absentmindedly brought the cup to his lips—then paused.
‘…Did the smell give it away?’
His eyebrow twitched upward suspiciously, as if he’d noticed something was off.
What if he didn’t drink it after all the effort I’d put in?
I was secretly worried, but Roakin stared straight into my eyes and deliberately downed the potion in one go.
Watching his throat move without hesitation, I started to feel uneasy.
‘What? Why is he drinking it so easily?’
Maybe the coriander taste hadn’t fully come through yet.
I waited with bated breath for Roakin’s brow to furrow.
“The taste has changed.”
I knew it!
“I adjusted the formula… How is it?”
I watched his reaction, hoping he’d get angry. But Roakin set down the cup and said, in a perfectly calm voice:
“This isn’t bad. I like it—it’s fragrant.”
Fragrant…?
At the unexpected compliment, my eyes—which had been wearing a professional smile—twitched.
‘That’s strange. There’s no way.’
The potion was so strong that I’d only tasted a tiny dab on my finger.
It was definitely a flavor that made you involuntarily grimace!
“If you like it, that’s… fortunate.”
The faint smirk that crossed Roakin’s face at my words was probably my imagination.
“You may go.”
“…Rest well.”
I took the cup, completely empty without a single drop left, and returned to the secretary’s office feeling uneasy.
Sitting there dazedly, I cautiously brought the potion bottle to my nose, just in case, and sniffed.
“Ugh.”
But the pungent aroma was still there.
‘Does he have a peculiar taste? How is this fragrant?!’
Only then did I remember something I’d seen somewhere.
A research finding that sensing a soapy smell in coriander was due to a specific gene…
‘Does Roakin lack that gene?’
Given his indifferent reaction, this plan was clearly a failure too.
I marked X’s on the past dates on the calendar, sinking into deep despair.
Only ten days remained.
“…I’m screwed.”
Before I knew it, the Founding Festival was just ten days away.
‘I can’t afford to delay any longer.’
The Imperial Consort’s request would be arriving soon—I couldn’t keep wasting time on meaningless struggles.
Even if I was afraid of Roakin’s reaction, I had to speak clearly now.
‘Let’s end this today!’
Strike while the iron is hot. I immediately rushed to the top of the Magic Tower.
After catching my breath, I knocked and waited, but the firmly shut door showed no signs of opening.
“…Where did he go?”
As someone who knew the Tower Master’s schedule better than anyone, I was certain Roakin was still in the tower.
Sensing something odd, I cracked the door open and peeked inside.
‘What? He’s right there.’
I could see his black hair sticking out over the back of the chair, turned away from me.
Had he changed tactics and decided to simply ignore me now?
‘Why isn’t he answering if he’s here?’
Feeling bewildered, I walked over to where Roakin was.
“Roak—”
I started to call his name, then quietly closed my mouth.
So that’s why there was no answer—he was asleep.
Roakin’s eyes were peacefully closed, his long eyelashes casting shadows beneath them.
‘I came all the way up here with such resolve…’
I felt all the strength drain out of me.
But I couldn’t wake someone who’d finally fallen asleep after suffering from insomnia and taking a sleeping potion.
He was already sensitive about sleep, and I did feel a little guilty for trying to tamper with the potion that was practically life-saving for him.
‘Sigh. Not today either.’
Feeling resentful, I glared at the sleeping Roakin.
When he was quietly asleep like this, his beauty—normally overshadowed by his temper—really stood out.
A straight forehead, a sharp nose, red lips—perfection itself.
Maybe it was because he was a main character, but even just sleeping, his clear face had an elegant, refined aura.
‘But what’s the use of being unnecessarily pretty?!’
I mimed flicking him on the forehead in the air, then turned to leave.
That’s when a slightly hoarse voice stopped me.
“…Serpiene?”
“Oh, you woke up?”
I quickly hid my hands behind my back as if nothing had happened.
My heart raced—had he caught me in the act?—but fortunately, Roakin didn’t seem to have noticed.
“What brings you here? I don’t recall summoning you.”
Roakin straightened up from leaning back in the chair and rubbed his face as if shaking off sleep.
After taking a deep breath, I pulled the chair opposite him and sat down.
“Well, I have something important to tell you.”
I’d come with determination, but the memory of last time’s fiery resignation letter kept popping up, making it hard to speak.
Seeing me fidgeting with the velvet cushion, choosing my words, Roakin tilted his head.
“What earth-shattering news do you have?”
“You know what I’m going to say. I’m quitting—”
“Just in case.”
Before I could finish, Roakin’s voice cut in abruptly.
“If you’re going to say you’re quitting again—”
Just as I waited for him to continue—
BANG!
The massive door at the entrance burst open with a thunderous crash.
Startled, I reflexively covered my ears.
“The exit is that way.”
Roakin pointed at the door with icy eyes.
‘That crazy bastard, for real!’
Just because he’s my boss?
Just because he’s the Tower Master, he can throw his power around whenever he wants?
How long do I have to put up with this absurdity?
I kept my hands over my ears, unable to take my eyes off Roakin’s hands.
The rings on his long, pale fingers were glittering wildly.
I could see the magic gems embedded in the rings cracking—nearly shattering—and realized just how much he was holding back his anger.
‘…What on earth is making him that angry?!’
