WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Northern Grand Duke’s Mad Son-in-Law ◈

Chapter 1: Resident Son-in-Law

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‘I can do this. I graduated from the Academy near the top of my class, and I even secured some solid backing. I can do this.’

James murmured as he stared down the dreary gray corridor.

His shirt collar, buttoned all the way up, prickled at his neck, but he didn't have the presence of mind to care.

Today was the day of his long-awaited Intelligence Bureau interview.

What kind of place was the Intelligence Bureau? It gathered only the best of the continent's geniuses. It secretly guided the Empire, and only a handful of people even knew it existed.

You couldn't just walk into the Intelligence Bureau. You had to graduate near the top of an Academy that only accepted talented people to begin with, or accomplish something great enough to make a name for yourself across the continent before you even qualified to apply.

That wasn't the end of it. Applicants had to pass a thorough background check and a practical test close to real fieldwork. Making it as far as the interview was already a miracle. James wanted to seize that miracle.

“Fuck, seriously.”

A rough curse rang out.

When James looked up, he saw a black-haired man sitting across from him.

His uniform was unbuttoned at the collar, his posture crooked, and irritation filled his face. He looked dissatisfied with everything.

Right now, though, James only had eyes for the man's uniform.

‘...An Intelligence Bureau agent!’

It was his first time seeing one.

The Intelligence Bureau was shrouded in secrecy. Even during the entire process of getting to this interview, he hadn't encountered a single person.

The man looked about James's age, yet he was already an Intelligence Bureau agent. James's eyes shone.

“What are you looking at?” the man asked in an irritated voice.

“Ah... nothing! I just thought you looked cool!”

James hurriedly sat at attention. If he got in, this man could become his senior.

“Taking my anger out on a rookie... I’m the worst.”

The man frowned and took out a cigarette, placing it between his lips.

“Want one? It's good stuff.”

“No! I'm fine!”

The man didn't ask twice. Red fire rose over his fingers.

“...A mage!”

James's eyes widened. A mage, and an Intelligence Bureau agent at that!

“Is this your first time seeing a mage?”

Instead of answering, James snapped his fingers. Small sparks flickered around them.

“So you're a junior.”

“I look forward to working with you, Senior!”

The man clicked his tongue softly. Gray smoke drifted from his lips, and his expression as he looked at James was strange.

“Why join the Intelligence Bureau when you could take an easier path?”

It was a fair question.

Usually, mages entered a Magic Tower after graduating. If not, they served under a noble.

Mages were better suited for research and development than combat. The money and prestige available in those fields were overwhelmingly greater.

James had received plenty of offers from Magic Towers. The reason he had rejected them all and applied to the Intelligence Bureau was...

“I want to devote myself to the glorious Empire!”

It had been one of the expected interview questions, so James answered without hesitation. The man frowned. Was that the wrong answer?

“...Your mana is leaking a little. Your compression is weak.”

“Compression?”

“Like this.”

The man snapped his fingers again. Sparks flew from them. At a glance, they looked the same as James's, but James could see how much more precise they were.

“You can get the same result with less mana!”

“Right. The Academy doesn't teach that. People who only know magic from books think mana efficiency doesn't matter. But efficiency matters more in the field. How long does it take you to refill your mana?”

“About three days.”

“That's too long.”

“...Excuse me?”

James's eyes widened. Compared to his classmates, he was on the faster side.

“Don't refill your mana thoughtlessly. Calculate its concentration from the moment you store it. It takes you three days because you store it mindlessly, like breathing.”

‘Calculate the concentration while storing mana?’

Setting up calculations just to cast magic already made his head feel like it would split. Now he had to calculate mana concentration too? Did that even make sense?

James nodded for now.

“If you calculate and memorize the mana concentration in advance, you can use exactly as much mana as you need. Then you can do things like this.”

The man snapped his fingers in quick succession.

Sparks erupted one after another. What began as a single spark burst apart in an instant, forming the shape of a small flower.

A flower made of lightning.

James was genuinely impressed by its precision.

“This works great on women. Give it a try. They fall for it hard.”

“...Ah, is that so?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I just broke up with mine.”

“Because of the Intelligence Bureau?”

“Yes.”

“Idiot.”

“Pardon?”

The man let out a long stream of smoke. A refreshing lemon scent filled the air.

“You can't date once you're in.”

“That's fine! I'm planning to marry the Empire!”

“Have you heard the Empire's opinion on that?”

“...What?”

The man laughed like he was coughing.

“Anyway, remember one thing if you join the Intelligence Bureau.”

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes and shut your mouth. Do only what you're told. Then you'll rise.”

The man narrowed his eyes. At first glance, he seemed to be smiling, but the corners of his mouth hadn't lifted.

Just then, the door beside them opened and a woman stepped out. She was a cold-looking beauty, and James unconsciously corrected his posture.

“Galahad, how many times have I told you not to smoke indoors?”

“This is a Mana Cigarette.”

“So?”

“It smells nice.”

The woman snorted and gestured toward the room inside. Clicking his tongue, Galahad stood up. James stared blankly up at him.

“Try not to get divorced. Hang in there.”

“...What? Yes!”

Galahad patted James on the shoulder and entered the room.

James muttered the name, “Galahad.” Where had he heard it before...?

‘...The youngest Academy graduate in history!’

James's mouth fell open as he finally remembered.

Galahad was a figure recorded in the Academy's history.

Most mages graduated from the Academy at the Second Circle, or the Third Circle if they were especially skilled. Yet Galahad had not only graduated at the youngest age ever, but had also reached the Fourth Circle by then.

He had suddenly disappeared after graduation...

‘He joined the Intelligence Bureau.’

Now it made sense. He had met such a legendary figure.

James quietly shouted, “Yes!”

As expected of the Intelligence Bureau. The Intelligence Bureau where only the best of the continent's geniuses gathered to lead the Empire...

Then a harsh voice came from inside.

“Fuck, you're telling me to become some goddamn resident son-in-law?”

At Galahad's voice, James's eyes widened.

He urgently looked at the sign above the door. It read, in large letters, ‘Deputy Director's Office.’

Cursing that harshly inside the Deputy Director's office...

‘So cool.’

James's eyes sparkled.

‘I have to get in!’

James clenched his fist and pumped himself up.

He wanted to work under the amazing Galahad.

* * *

“Galahad, how is marrying the Northern Grand Duke's eldest daughter the same as becoming some goddamn resident son-in-law?”

The Deputy Director frowned, his fleshy eyes narrowing. Galahad took a deep breath and calmed himself.

“Isn't it the same thing? You know what kind of person the Northern Grand Duke's eldest daughter is.”

“I do. She's the youngest Sword Master in history. She'll inherit the position of Northern Grand Duke someday. That means you'll become the Northern Grand Duke's husband, so what exactly are you unhappy about?”

The Deputy Director chuckled. Galahad's anger boiled over at that shameless attitude.

When the Empire had first been founded, the Northern Grand Duke had truly been a Grand Duke. The Empire's only Grand Duke and the person with the most power after the Emperor.

The problem was the North.

The North bordered Demonkin territory. The Northern Grand Duke had to withstand the Demonkin offensives, and the Northern Grand Duke's power was dwindling by the day because of it.

On top of that, those ignorant northerners considered magic a byproduct of the Demonkin and hated mages with a passion. The Northern Grand Duke's territory was the only place without a Magic Tower.

Sending Galahad there, a mage and Intelligence Bureau agent, was no different from telling him to die.

Still, Galahad was the card the Deputy Director had backed most heavily. The Deputy Director would never throw him away with his own hands.

“Where did the order come from?”

The Deputy Director's face darkened as he pointed upward with a finger. The Deputy Director refused to acknowledge the Director of the Intelligence Bureau, claiming that the Director had been appointed from above. For someone like the Deputy Director to point upward meant it had come from truly high up.

“It was arranged by your father.”

“Fuck! Seriously! Goddamn...”

Unable to hold back, Galahad cursed. He immediately understood how things had turned out this way.

Galahad was the third son of a count.

The nobles here passed everything down to their eldest sons to prevent their power from weakening. Some even killed every child except the eldest.

Reincarnated as a noble's son, Galahad had realized his position at a young age. So he had desperately studied magic.

Studying wasn't difficult. He had done more than enough of it in his previous life.

After all, Galahad had attended a prestigious university in Korea. Compared to the boring college entrance exam prep and university classes, magic produced visible results every time he studied. It was far more fun.

The basic formulas of magic were also about as difficult as the high school math he had learned in his previous life.

That was how he had graduated from the Academy at the youngest age ever and entered the Intelligence Bureau. He thought he would finally be able to live comfortably after that...

‘It wasn't enough that he never looked after me. Now he's selling me off too? Fuck.’

It was an extremely political arranged marriage. Galahad's sharp mind quickly reached the conclusion that there was no way out. He had been cornered.

‘This is so fucking awful.’

Having finished his calculations, Galahad sat across from the Deputy Director and put a cigarette in his mouth. The Deputy Director raised an eyebrow, but he was no longer Galahad's senior.

“Galahad...”

“What?”

“Give me one too.”

Galahad frowned at the Deputy Director. Still, what had the Deputy Director done wrong? He took a cigarette from his pocket and handed it over.

“Fire.”

“What age are we living in that you can't use such simple magic?”

“Just you wait until you're old. You'll see how hard it is to learn new things. Fire!”

Clicking his tongue, Galahad lit the Deputy Director's cigarette.

“What kind of man smokes lemon-scented cigarettes? Lemon-scented.”

“You're asking for handouts and still complaining.”

The two silently smoked one cigarette after another.

The Deputy Director didn't look well either. Galahad had been the card he backed most heavily, so losing him was no different from being left empty-handed.

“Then why didn't you get married before this? You're old enough.”

“I married the Empire.”

“Even I know you're famous for hating the Empire.”

“Don't you hate your wife too, Deputy Director?”

“You have a point.”

The two chuckled quietly.

“It won't take long.”

The Deputy Director spoke in a tired voice. It was practically the same as having the Deputy Director's arms and legs cut off. There was no way he could call Galahad back.

“Forget it. I'll come back on my own.”

Galahad shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette.

“You are popular with women, though. Jamit likes you too, actually.”

The Deputy Director grinned teasingly and pointed at Jamit beside him. Jamit's face twisted into a deep frown.

“I knew it. Sorry, Jamit, but I'm not into office romances.”

“...Give me one too.”

The three sat side by side and smoked for a long time. There was no conversation, but each of their minds was noisily at work.

“Buy some candy or chocolate before you go. Women like that sort of thing. They might not have any in the North.”

Jamit said this while making a smoke ring.

“Candy. I'll remember that. Ah, the guy outside seems useful.”

“The guy outside?”

“The rookie who looks like a carrot.”

“Carrot?”

“I think he means the interviewee.”

“Ah, I see. But why are you speaking casually to me, Jamit... You can do that. We've worked together for so long. Ha ha. So, did he look promising?”

“Yes. He said he wanted to marry the Empire.”

“That's what you said during your interview.”

Galahad smiled bitterly.

Had he said something like that? Maybe he had. Didn't everyone say things like that at interviews? That they really loved the company, that they'd work there until they died... It was that kind of thing.

“Anything else you're curious about?”

The Deputy Director leaned back and asked. When Galahad had first met the Deputy Director, his eyes had shone with justice and ambition. Now they held only frailty and exhaustion.

Galahad watched the Deputy Director for a moment before opening his mouth.

“So, is that woman pretty?”

This time, the Deputy Director laughed out loud. After laughing so hard he nearly choked, he wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded.

“They say she's the most beautiful woman on the continent.”

Footnotes:

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