The old mage couldn't resist the temptation—he eventually booked a reservation. His curiosity about what "online promotion" entailed got the better of him. Securing a good seat meant he'd be able to witness more of the promotional content.
As a mage, curiosity was an essential trait, one that mages could never abandon. In this sense, mages were much like cats—if something interesting appeared, they had to try it.
Especially for a mage like Harley, who, despite being a wizard, had a deep passion for machines.
After thinking for a moment, the old mage spoke up, "If I help you with the promotional interview, can you give me a few arcade tokens?"
Seizing the opportunity, Harley made his request, and Maya, being ever calculative and profiteering, readily agreed. There wasn't anything to lose for her.
"Of course! A group of mages traveling from another world just to play our arcade games—it's the best promotion we could ask for."
The old mage turned to look at his students. The apprentices were practically glued to the arcade machines, their eyes fixated on the players, completely engrossed.
"They never showed this much enthusiasm for learning magic," Harley grumbled. "These so-called top students of the academy—they skip classes, sleep till noon, and even when they do show up, it's usually for my Transmutation classes. Poor Professor House, he teaches celestial magic, can hardly get them to stay awake in his lectures…"
Seeing his students so absorbed in the games, as if discovering a new world, Harley felt a deep concern growing in his heart.
"If they get hooked on these games, will they neglect their magical studies? What if they get addicted... and lose out on future job prospects?"
Maya interrupted his intrusive thoghts with a chuckle. "Games are a form of magic too. Isn't Transmutation magic something like a game? Come on, Professor, you turned yourself into a 2D sprite and jumped into my arcade machine. Isn't that just creative magic at work? You couldn't have thought of that before arcade machines existed."
"Who knows? Maybe one day, your students will be able to dive into it. I can ask my lord."
Her words were like a revelation to Professor Harley, who immediately replied, "That would be fantastic! They'll be graduating next year. Would you be interested in hiring them?"
"Well, that depends on how well our church develops. After all, mage interns demand high wages."
Maya sighed, rubbing her temples.
Mage internships paid extremely well in any world, and after becoming full-fledged mages, their salaries multiplied fivefold. At the moment, the Church of Fiction couldn't afford to pay those kinds of wages to a batch of apprentices.
After a bit more conversation, Professor Harley finally managed to gather his students, though they were reluctant to tear themselves away from the arcades, as if their feet were glued to the ground. But it only took one sentence from the professor—threatening to deduct their grades—and they dispersed in an instant.
Soon, they arrived at Today's Print. From Maya's tavern to the printing company was quite a long journey. After all, Morning Wind Metropolis, being the largest in the Steam Kingdom, was divided into seven districts, each with six to ten boroughs.
The streets were a maze of factories, pipelines, narrow alleys, wide roads, bookstores, repair shops, trading posts, churches, and hospitals. Sometimes, you could even spot a factory connected directly to a hospital, so that when accidents occurred, you could simply walk next door to get treated. It was all about maximizing efficiency.
Meanwhile, the Church of Steel provided mechanical prosthetics, the Pain Church offered pain relief, and the Filth Church, despite overseeing pollution, could bless you with temporary good health—allowing you to choose when to get sick. If today wasn't convenient, you could push your illness to another day.
From birth to work, from injuries to recovery, everything had been meticulously organized by the various churches, ensuring that the people were well taken care of from start to finish.
"Professor Harley, it's an honor to work with you again. Our master illustrators are ready and waiting for your approval."
Mr. Litt, the manager of Today's Print, was as busy as ever. Just yesterday, he had seen off the mysterious, gonna-die-soon, Mr.Fet in his trench coat, and today, he was hosting Professor Harley. As a diligent man of success, his life was a never-ending buffet of meetings.
He handed the professor a detailed proposal for the Sacrifice Church's promotional campaign, which the professor, now sporting his reading glasses, carefully reviewed.
The plan wasn't too different from previous campaigns, except for some minor adjustments. But soon, the professor spotted a notable addition.
"Promotion for the Church of Fiction?"
Mr. Litt smiled, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the desk. "Indeed, a new church, that appeared recently, catching me off guard. But this new god... has some rather unique traits."
"What was originally agreed upon was just a small inclusion—placing the Church of Fiction's content in the margins of our printed materials. But the manager they sent over brought us a bit of a headache."
"Apparently, the God of Fiction possesses the quality of 'gaze,' though it differs from other deities with similar traits, so they say. I am yet to review it."
Litt went on to explain the details of his interaction with Fet, which only seemed to ignite the professor's excitement.
"The God of Fiction's power is like Transmutation magic?"
"More or less. At least that's how it was described to me—'roughly similar.'"
Professor Harley's interest in the God of Fiction spiked once again.
As a master of Transmutation, he wasn't just a senior professor at Leia Academy in the Falling Star World, but also held guest professorships at several other institutions. In short, he was considered a top-tier authority in the field of Transmutation.
At least, he was in his own world.
But now, it seemed he had encountered someone—or rather, something—more advanced.
Gods could be mages too, after all. Being a mage was just a profession, wasn't it?
"That's why I was thinking if you would like to apply some Transmutation magic to the promotional content for the Church of Fiction," Mr. Litt explained. "After all, ordinary folks can't tell where an gaze ability comes from or whether it carries any malice. Even though the Church of Fiction has obtained approval from the Church of Steel for their event, it's better to be safe and disguise the content with your magic."
Transmutation magic's key feature in advertising was shapeshifting.
Paintings will come to life—whether it is gentlemen, ladies, animals, or machines, they will leap out of the illustrations, walking through reality like cartoon characters stepping into the third dimension, all to deliver their intended message.