[275] 1. Hostile Friendship (4)
But Shirone was different.
To him, mattered less for the material value of the presents than for the daily thrill of expecting one.
In that sense, Shirone's tendency to study objects matched how he'd felt when he first got hold of .
"That's right. I once invited a top schema specialist. I can't give the name, but he was a world-class professional gambler. He spun it with the same force ten times over ten days, and the results differed every time. Still, I consider it valid as gambling."
"Why? Did you find another trait?"
Jion yawned, unable to hide his boredom.
He knew it was important to figure out an object's .
But those headaches could be left to subordinates. Royals only needed to buy and enjoy the objects.
Whether he cared or not, Uorin's eyes were fixed on Shirone.
"Because of the statistics. I got this roulette exactly 1,003 days ago. That means I've spun it 1,002 times, not counting today. There were two miracles. Modest gifts came up 823 times, pleasant gifts 171 times, and excessive gifts six times."
Shirone understood what Uorin was driving at.
"Aha, the observed frequencies match the probabilities. Then the variables must be fair. Maybe the variable is something humans can't control...?"
Uorin jabbed a finger at Shirone.
"Exactly! If the statistics follow probability, there's no trickery. So this object still has value as a gambling tool."
Shirone rested his chin on his hand and thought.
Statistically, the rule seemed fair. But even the world's greatest gambler hadn't produced identical results. That meant the variable was something beyond human control.
"An extremely sensitive sensor, something you can't manipulate with muscle?"
"Yes. Experts say it's probably a quantum-level fluctuation."
Quantum-level.
Surely you couldn't control an electron's behavior—lighter than an atom—with raw muscle. In short, it was a childish-looking thing that was actually terrifyingly precise.
Shirone inspected more closely.
From the outside it looked like an old antique: a rough wooden case, a miniature clown grinning, childish drawings on the hemispherical surface.
He suddenly pictured gypsy-camp children spinning the roulette and laughing. Normally that would be pleasant, but now it sent a chill through him.
"What kind of gift comes out when it's a miracle?"
Uorin's face hardened.
"That I can't tell you."
Shirone stared at her blankly. Then, as if nothing had happened, she stuck out her tongue and reverted to a sweet expression.
"Hehe, I'm joking. It wouldn't be fun if I told you in advance. Come on, spin it already."
"Hm, shall I?"
Shirone stopped analyzing and prepared to act.
He flicked his finger, but human strength couldn't control it anyway.
He had to leave everything to luck—toward a childish future where only joy waited.
"Then I'll start."
Shirone put his fingertip to the end of the dial and flicked.
Tiririri—the arrow spun with a toy-like whir.
Uorin watched with bright eyes. Even Jion seemed interested this time; he crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on the roulette.
When the dial stopped, Uorin smacked the table and leapt up.
"Wow! An excessive gift! That's a four percent chance!"
Shirone was so tense he couldn't even feel the thrill of hitting a low probability.
The roulette had obeyed its . What would happen now?
Knock!
Shirone turned at the sound. But no matter how long he listened, he sensed no other movement.
"It's here! Brother, go see quickly!"
Shirone hurried to the door. Still, it took him a long moment to steel himself before opening it.
He pulled the handle and a square chamber lit by torches came into view.
Not a single fly stirred; there was no sign of anyone.
Shirone invoked and scanned the floor. A gift box tied with a red ribbon sat there.
Seeing the solitary present sent a prickle down his spine.
This was an enclosed space. He hadn't even heard the front door open. Then who had knocked?
"Brother, show us. I'm curious."
At Uorin's urging, Shirone picked up the present with a queasy feeling and set it on the table.
Jion and Uorin craned their necks like turtles to inspect it.
"Since it's yours, you should open it."
He pulled the red ribbon, and the square wrapping slid open on its own.
It should have been a romantic scene, but Shirone handled the gift as if it were an explosive.
"Huh? What is this?"
Inside was a porcelain doll.
A childlike figure with black hair down to her ankles, rendered in a three-heads-tall proportion. Her eyelashes were long, and her pupils were made from polished gemstones that looked like real eyes.
Not grotesque in form, but Shirone felt such revulsion he didn't even want to touch it.
They say people fear most things that lie between unfamiliar and familiar.
The doll fit that description exactly.
The proportions were off and the face lifeless, but the hair, eyelashes, and gem eyes were so lifelike that it provoked uncanny dread.
Uorin's eyes widened with fascination.
"Oh—this?"
Before she realized it, Uorin reached for the doll, then paused and glanced at Shirone. She might feel awkward showing interest in a gift she'd promised.
Shirone gladly handed it over. Honestly, he didn't even want to look.
"It's fine. I don't know what it is, so you can have a look."
Uorin lifted the doll carefully, afraid a crack might appear on the surface.
Jion followed her gaze.
He wasn't a doll expert, but this was unmistakable. He'd once hunted one down as a favor for his younger sister's prized collection.
"It's an El Crouchi seamless-joint doll."
"El Crouchi?"
Uorin angled the doll under the ceiling light and inspected the inside of the porcelain face. There were indeed no seam marks—an authentic piece.
With growing certainty she said, "El Crouchi is a dollmaker famous for never using adhesives. Only twelve of Crouchi's works have been revealed, and each has an owner. I own four myself. In short, this is an unreleased piece. If auctioned, it would start at a minimum of 100 million gold."
"What? 100 million gold?"
Shirone's eyes widened.
A common family in the Kingdom of Tormia lived on about 100 gold a year. Before Shirone entered the Ozgent household as a steward's son, his family once got by on fifty gold for a year.
Even by a mage's standards, it was an enormous sum.
A newly minted professional mage earned around 4,000 gold a year; a certified sixth-rank mage's average salary didn't exceed 200,000 gold. In other words, Master Shiina would have to work her bones off for five hundred years to save that much.
Pay from fifth rank upward varied wildly by ability, but given that a third-rank grand mage at Kazra Castle earned around 30 million gold, 100 million would make any noble sit up.
'Wait a moment...'
It wasn't just the amount. How could an El Crouchi piece end up as a roulette gift?
An artist's work exists somewhere in the world. If it wasn't prepared beforehand, then the object must have been instantaneously transported from some specific location.
"How is this even possible?"
"Because it's an object. Excessive gifts judge the value of rarity. Once we even got a deep-sea fish with a humanlike face; it died immediately. Excessive gifts aren't guaranteed to be expensive. In that sense, an El Crouchi doll is a huge material gain. It can be sold."
Uorin glanced at Shirone.
"Um, so—"
Shirone could guess without being told.
She already owned four Crouchi dolls. To outsiders they might seem hideous, but to a collector they'd be priceless.
"If you want it, take it. I can give this as a gift."
"What? No! That's unnecessary! I was actually going to buy this for 100 million. But I thought you might not like that kind of deal—"
She must have remembered how, on the first day at the castle, Eliza had offered to buy Shirone's parents a manor and he'd lost his temper.
"Haha! No, I don't need the money. Just take it. The object's yours anyway."
One hundred million gold was tempting even to Shirone.
But yielding to Uorin, the highest authority in Kazra, was worth more than money. No amount of gold was worth risking his life.
As expected, Jion's face contorted.
Why be indebted to the rival competing with you for the throne against your own sister? Thoughtless as she might be, this was too short-sighted.
'No, could she really be that reckless?'
A grim thought flashed through Jion.
Uorin was the obedient younger sister who followed her brother. She was Teraje's direct heir and had never once shown contempt for him.
But today felt off.
It had been Uorin who chose the meeting place.
Of course she liked to show off objects, so choosing a gallery made sense. But of all the objects she could have picked, why ?
'Because it's one of the most probabilistic objects...'
If Shirone had landed on the 75 percent modest gift, nothing would be wrong.
But he'd hit an excessive gift—four percent.
And the present was one of Uorin's most treasured El Crouchi dolls.
'Uorin isn't the sort of fool to go into debt to just anyone. Maybe she was testing Shirone's odds. If so, she's weighing me against Shirone...'
The thought alone made his throat go dry.
It was paranoia. A mere coincidence. That's what he had to tell himself.
After all, Shirone had already hit a four-percent outcome once—why should choosing be anything but chance?
Besides, she was Teraje's daughter. Even if she liked Shirone, she wouldn't be foolish enough to betray her brother who held Kazra's power.
"Ahh, it's really beautiful. Thank you, Brother Shirone."
Watching Uorin hug the porcelain doll with joy, Shirone understood why brothers fussed over their little sisters.
Still, his warm smile soon turned to worry. No matter how he thought about it, the object wasn't normal.
"Uorin, you shouldn't spin that roulette anymore."
"Huh? Why not?"
Shirone eyed with unease.
"It doesn't make sense. No magic can violate the principle of equivalent exchange. Even black-market trades are a kind of mental equivalent exchange. This object is too bizarre. If you keep getting gifts like this, you might have to pay a price someday."
Uorin blinked, then carefully put the porcelain doll back in its box. She sat down, propped her chin on her hand, and tapped the dial of the now-dormant .
"Hmm, I see what you mean. But by that logic nothing in the world is 100 percent safe. For example, more people die from kitchen knives than from objects."
"But there are far fewer object users than kitchen-knife users. Ten people with one death isn't the same as a hundred people with ten deaths. You can't judge only by absolute numbers. And I've heard of people actually dying because of objects."
Uorin held the object out to Shirone.
"This object first appeared 240 years ago. And some of the people who owned it have indeed met miserable ends."