Contract Magic

Contract Magic

Contract Magic

Mark, after having the female employee clean up our table, brought in a tray covered with stuff. The word “platter” would be more fitting since he looked so much like a butler, but since it was like a flat circle carved out of wood, the tool was unfortunately less dignified than the carrier.

In any case, he lined the stuff up on the table: flat boards resting on top of one another for some reason, an ink jar, a pen made of some plant that looked like a thin reed, stone slates, slate pens, and some cloth. There was a wide variety of things, and once everything was placed onto the table with perfect alignment, Mark looked up.

“Now then. I will teach you how to write supply orders,” he said, then looked at both of us for a second. “Can you write, Lutz?”

“...The only thing I can write is my name.” It seemed that the lessons I had given Lutz while making clay tablets had stuck in his head. However, he nonetheless lowered his eyes uncomfortably, knowing that a supply order would require more writing than just his name.

Mark gave a nod and placed a stone slate in front of Lutz. “You can write your own name? I had heard you were not the son of a merchant, so consider me surprised. There will be no issue with the contract. However, all apprentices here learn to read. Let us practice your letters while Myne writes the supply orders.” He must not have expected that Lutz could write his own name. I could guess that his initial plans were to teach Lutz how to do so before Benno returned with the contracts.

Mark wrote five basic letters on the slate and had Lutz start memorizing them. He looked pretty used to teaching kids and helping them learn. Maybe he was in charge of teaching the apprentices. “Myne, do you know how to write?”

“There might be some words I don’t know, but if you teach me them, I can write anything.”

“Then I will teach you how a supply order is written.” Mark placed two boards in front of me. One had nothing written on it and the other was already covered with words. That was probably the example order. It had some words I didn’t know, but I could read about seventy percent of it.

“These are the letters that form a ‘supply order,’” said Mark, pointing at the letters by the top. He then taught me the format of a supply order. It wasn’t that hard once I learned the words to indicate who was ordering, what they wanted, and how much. “Myne, do you know what tools and materials you need?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” I gave a firm nod and started writing the supply orders, but it was harder than I expected to write on a board. I wasn’t used to the pen, either, which made writing harder and unpleasant. The soot pen I had made was much easier to use, if you asked me. Though the letters ended up broken and unreadable if you messed up even a little. “Ngggh, this is a lot harder to use than a stone pen.”

“Compared to most of those writing for the first time, I would say you’re doing quite well.”

With Mark’s praise giving me a morale boost, I put my all into writing the orders. I scratched away for a bit. Eventually, he took a look at one of the orders and frowned. “Myne, you have pot written here, but how large of a pot do you want?”

“Ummm... I was thinking a pot about as big as the second-biggest pot at my home.”

Mark’s brows furrowed deeper. It was written on his face that my explanation was incomprehensible. Well... That makes sense. He doesn’t know how big the pots we own are. But I don’t know what units of measurement are used here. If I can’t use centimeters, how can I describe length objectively?

“Hey, Lutz. How big of a pot can you carry if it’s full of water?”

“Huh? Errr, about this big.” Lutz made a circle with his arms.

Leaving it to a kid native to this world was the right idea, heheh. Asking my helpful partner Lutz for help was the right idea, as Mark immediately took out a tape measure-looking thing and measured Lutz’s arm-circle.

“And how deep?”

“Well, Lutz?”

“About this much.”

Again, Mark quickly measured Lutz’s arms. I myself lacked a readily available tape measure and thus had managed up until now just going with what felt right to me. Nothing had needed precise measurements. But when it came to requesting work from other people, ambiguity just wouldn’t get the job done, literally.

I cradled my head and, after a weak groan, held up my hand. “...Mr. Mark, I think you’ll have to teach me the units of measurement before I can write these supply orders. Also, there are some things I need to measure at home before we can proceed. May I borrow that measuring device?”

“This tape measure? Of course. I will order a new one, considering that it is a tool you need.”

We wouldn’t be able to make the screen without first measuring the frame that we had already made. Our plan was to make an experimental one about the size of a postcard to test out various types of wood and mixing ratios. Once the results came in and we knew our best recipe, we would make larger paper. Which meant, naturally, that we would need larger tools. A tape measure would be essential.

I borrowed Mark’s tape measure and began writing supply orders while he instructed me on units of measurement. We needed a steamer, a pot, wood, ashes, a tub, a suketa, a draining bed, weights, and a flat board. Not to mention the wood and tororo. I wanted to write all of those down so we could get started making paper as soon as possible, but I didn’t know how big the steamer needed to be without the pot for reference. Without knowing how big the steamer needed to be, I couldn’t order the right size of wood.

I explained to Mark how much wood we needed and how we would be using it so he could help me through figuring out the ideal weight and size for the lumber. However, I didn’t know how much ash we would need until I tried making paper for myself. For now I just ordered a single small bag’s worth.

It was so hard to describe so much of what I needed that I was quickly getting overwhelmed. “Ngggh. So, about the screen, I would like to take the frame we’ve already built and see what the craftsman himself has to say.”

“I see. That might be best for this screen you speak of. I cannot understand what it is even after seeing your illustration on the slate.”

I somehow managed to write supply orders for everything except the screen, which Mark gave up on. While my battle with the supply orders continued, Lutz was doing his best to learn letters. Despite being entirely unused to sitting down and writing for extended periods of time, his ability to stay focused was really a very impressive display. The apprentice soldiers at the gate couldn’t even compare. People just focused more when they considered their studies important to their life. However, perhaps due to focusing too hard, Lutz’s expression had gone totally blank.

“Now then. We seem to have more time on our hands, so let’s begin learning math. We can use this calculator to, as you would expect, make calculations.” After a brief rest, Mark began teaching Lutz how to use a calculator. I didn’t know how to use the calculators of this world myself, so I was sitting next to him. These sure are like abacuses from Earth, I thought while fiddling with it.

Soon I noticed Mark looking at me weirdly. “I thought you already knew how to do math, Myne. The young master said as much.”

“The truth is, I don’t use calculators.”

“How do you do calculations, then?”

“I use my stone slate.”

I pulled out my stone slate and solved math problems suggested by Mark. He was so surprised to see me doing math involving large numbers without a calculator that for some reason, I ended up teaching him how to do written math.

“Mr. Mark, why do you want to learn written math? Can’t you just use your calculator?”

“This will be useful for when I lack a calculator. Not to mention that although I know how to use a calculator, I do not understand how it arrives at the answer it does. This is quite interesting.”

It felt weird seeing Mark end up so interested in a math lecture that could have been aimed at elementary schoolers. The math was basic stuff to me, but not to the people of this world. I was once again reminded of how impressive the Japanese education system really was.

...Maybe I shouldn’t spread stuff like this carelessly. I personally think sharing knowledge is a good thing, but I have no idea what might end up clashing with the common sense of this world. I might have just done something that I really shouldn’t have.

“It is almost time for the young master to return. I will prepare the contract magic.”

“What is contract magic, anyway?” I couldn’t help but feel excited for the first fantasy-esque phrase I was hearing in this world. Up until now this place had been the kind of dirty and inconvenient world I had only ever read about in books. But the whole time, it was actually a fantasy world with stuff like magic.

Maybe I can use magic too! I excitedly waited for an answer, but Mark just gave a small chuckle.

“As you know, mana is a power that only nobles have.”

“...Only nobles?”

“Indeed. I do not see mana much myself, so I’m afraid I cannot tell you much about it.”

My excitement for a fantasy world full of magic shattered in an instant. Seriously...? A power that only nobles have? I can’t believe that nobles aren’t just keeping all the books to themselves, they’re hogging all the magic too. What jerks.

“In the first place, contract magic was devised to restrain oppressive nobles. It therefore requires special paper and ink infused with mana. Through them the contract becomes magically binding in such a way that it cannot be nullified or broken without both parties’ full consent.”

“Wow, that sounds really useful.” A magically binding contract that couldn’t be broken sounded perfect when dealing with individuals more powerful than yourself.

“It is useful, but as the paper and ink are as expensive as they are difficult to obtain, contract magic is rarely used unless it involves something expected to bring significant profit.”

Apparently, Benno expected very great things from my shampoo. It was true that few things were as profitable as consumable goods used on a daily basis. You had to buy more whenever you ran out, which was inevitable, and I could imagine that few women could go back to having dirty hair after getting shampooed once or twice. Especially rich women who were concerned about their appearances.

The thought that I had undersold myself passed through my mind, but nothing good would come from getting greedy. What we needed was safety, stability, and a foothold for entering the market. There was no reason to be unsatisfied with this agreement.

“I’m back. Sorry to keep you all waiting. Did you finish the supply orders?” said Benno, speed-walking into the room. He seemed to be concerned about having kept us waiting.

“I wrote all the ones that I could right now.” I pointed at the stack of boards, and Benno looked at them and murmured “That’s a lot” to himself.

Well... there’s going to be more when I measure some things, so get ready for that. Please and thank you.

“How’s Lutz?” said Benno.

Mark answered after placing a hand on his chest. “As he could already write his own name, I spent this time teaching him various other things. He is quite the fast learner,” he said, but despite being praised, Lutz just gave a small nod like he was stuck thinking about something. He was probably pretty tired from studying for half of an entire day. Doing things you weren’t familiar with could be very tiring.

“I’m sure Mark explained this, but the contract magic we’re about to use involves special paper and ink. Only merchants recognized as dealing with nobles are allowed to use them.” Benno took out an ink jar with an odd-looking design. Its contents looked like normal ink at first glance, but apparently it was very different. He spread out the contract paper in front of me as I bubbled with curiosity.

“...You don’t mind using something this rare and expensive on us?”

“Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t use this if I didn’t think it was worth it.”

I mean... Say “don’t worry about it” all you want, I’m still going to worry.

Benno dipped a pen into the jar and smoothly wrote out the contents of the contract. The ink was actually blue, not black. I stared at Benno’s elegant letters, which indicated at a glance that he was very used to writing.

The contents of the contract were thus: “Myne fully surrenders all rights to the ‘simple all-in-one shampoo’ to Benno. In return, Benno will bear all costs related to Myne and Lutz’s paper-making from the date of signing until their baptism. Myne will have the right to decide who will be making the paper, but Lutz has the right to sell the paper. However, neither of them have the right to decide how to price the paper, nor will they receive a percentage of the profits earned from paper.”

I read the contract from top to bottom very carefully. The noble cause of ensuring the contract was written as agreed upon gave me the opportunity to fill my lungs with the smell of ink. Aaaah... I really want to make paper fast so I can get to making books.

“Myne. There a problem or something?” asked Benno, confused. I shot back to my senses. Benno was shooting me a suspicious look and Lutz an exasperated one. I got the feeling that Lutz noticed how I had just been enraptured by the smell of ink.

“Bwuh?! It’s fine! The contract has our exact agreement written on it, there’s no problems at all.”

“...I’m okay with it too,” said Lutz.

Benno nodded at him and dipped the pen in ink again, then signed his name at the bottom of the contract. He then held out the pen with a flourish and I took it from him after a subtle glance at Lutz.

I stroked the contract parchment — which was much softer than the paper I knew — to fully appreciate its tantalizing texture before readying the pen. I dipped it smoothly into the jar to cover its tip with fresh ink and carefully wrote my name beneath Benno’s, feeling the scritchy tip run along the paper. Unlike the boards I had written the supply orders on, parchment was very easy to write on. Mhm. Paper is definitely superior to boards here.

“Here, Lutz.”

Lutz, whose lips were squeezed tight with nervousness, took the pen, dipped it in the jar, and wrote his own name. His poor handwriting confirmed his lack of experience, but he managed to write his name properly without any errors.

“Good. Next step,” said Benno before suddenly brandishing a knife and pricking his own finger.

“Gyaaah?! Mr. Benno?!” As Lutz and I recoiled with surprise, Benno rubbed the swelling blood with another finger and pressed it against his signature like stamping a blood seal. The blue ink absorbed the red blood and turned black.