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After finishing the dinner Lucy prepared, Nate sent her on her way.
Naturally, a job that paid 3,000J a day also included washing the dishes.
"See you tomorrow morning. Goodnight," Lucy said as she headed back to her place with the dishes.
"Goodnight," Nate replied, closing the door behind her. Glancing at the time, it was already past 10 p.m.
He decided not to stay up late coding. There was no rush to complete the "Online Commissioning" feature.
After showering and lying in bed, Nate suddenly remembered something.
"Oh right, the private messages..."
In the quiet of the night, he recalled the persistent efforts of the councilor who had been trying to add him as a friend earlier that day.
Logging onto the internet, he opened the messages and saw the following:
Siegrain: Hello, Voldemort. I'm Councilor Siegrain.
Siegrain: I'm glad you accepted my friend request. I have a few questions I'd like to ask you.
Siegrain: First, regarding your comment on the forum about the dragons hiding within the Dragon Slayers… is that true?
Siegrain: Secondly, I'm very curious about your identity.
Quite polite, Nate noted. The messages were sent earlier in the afternoon, likely right after Nate had accepted the friend request.
He casually typed a response:
Voldemort: Information shared on the magic net—whether you believe it or not—is none of my concern.
Nate only revealed a partial truth. The one false detail was about the dragons disappearing on July 7, X777. The rest of the information was accurate, including the existence of the First Generation Dragon Slayers.
Dragon Slayers are broadly categorized based on how they acquired their dragon-slaying magic:
- First Generation: Taught directly by dragons, like Natsu.
- Second Generation: Mages who have a Dragon Lacrima implanted in their bodies, like Fairy Tail's S-Class mage, Laxus.
- Third Generation: Those who possess both traits.
Of course, there are also Fourth and Fifth Generations, but those are less commonly known.
Voldemort: As for my true identity... what difference does it make whether you know or not, Jellal Fernandes?
Nate added that last bit just to mess with him. 'Trying to unmask me? Let's make you sweat a little first.'
Feeling satisfied, Nate closed the internet and went to sleep.
…
Meanwhile, at the Magic Council Headquarters...
In a spacious study illuminated by a soft magic light, Jellal sat at his desk, flipping through a book on magic.
After spending 1,000,000J to buy a ring from Makarov, Jellal had become deeply intrigued by the magic internet. He spent the entire day researching it.
"Is this not some form of ancient magic?" Jellal mused, closing the book with a slight frown. "Was something like this really created in modern times?"
From his perspective, the magic internet, or "magic net" for short, seemed to borrow concepts from several other forms of magic—like the ancient spell 'Archive' or Council Chairman Crawford Seam's 'Super Archive'.
Both of those were forms of information retrieval magic, but the magic net's "Library" was far more efficient. Not only was it faster, but it also didn't require users to expend magic power—just points.
It was unbelievable.
Of course, the only limitation was that the library currently had limited books available. But if, one day, all books across the continent were uploaded, what would become of 'Archive' and 'Super Archive'? Would they still have any use?
"Where are all these books even being stored?" Jellal pondered, perplexed. He couldn't comprehend the underlying principles of this magic. It completely upended his understanding of magic theory.
"I'd like to meet this magic's creator someday… that mage from Fairy Tail, Nate," Jellal muttered to himself.
Suddenly, the ring on his right hand flickered with a faint white light.
"Hmm?"
Jellal hesitated for a moment before opening the magic net, where a private message awaited him.
It was from the mysterious Voldemort.
Finally! Jellal had spent most of the day trying to get through to this enigmatic figure.
But when he read the message, a chill ran down his spine.
A surge of cold dread shot through him, causing his body to freeze as his pupils constricted. His attention was riveted on the last sentence.
Jellal Fernandes!
"Impossible! Who is this person?" Jellal shot up from his chair, cold sweat running down his back.
No, calm down. This must be some kind of misunderstanding.
Jellal took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain composed as he quickly typed a response.
Siegrain: Jellal? You must mean my twin brother.
Siegrain: We look exactly alike, so we're often confused for each other.
Siegrain: I've been looking for him for a long time. If you know where he is, I would be grateful if you told me.
After sending the message, Jellal slumped back into his chair, feeling utterly drained.
He rested his hands on the desk, waiting silently for a reply.
And he waited… until morning.
"Damn it!"
Bang!
He slammed his fist down on the desk in frustration. After staying up all night in tension, his eyes were now bloodshot. But despite his exhaustion, there was nowhere for his anger to go.
Still unwilling to give up, Jellal sent another message.
Siegrain: Good morning, Voldemort.
Siegrain: I just woke up and noticed you still haven't replied. Please, if you know anything about my brother, tell me!
Siegrain: I'm counting on you!
…
Early the next morning.
Nate woke up, stretching lazily.
He opened the curtains, letting sunlight flood the room, and took a deep breath of the fresh air through the open window.
Ahh, what a wonderful day!
Feeling refreshed, Nate headed to the bathroom. While brushing his teeth, he checked the magic net and noticed more messages from Jellal.
He couldn't help but laugh.
"Panicking, huh? Even after I exposed you, you're still trying to keep up the act?"
Still brushing his teeth, Nate quickly typed a response.
Voldemort: I advise you to give up, Jellal.
Voldemort: Your R-System plan is doomed to fail. Zeref is very much alive.
Voldemort: If he knew you were trying so hard to resurrect him, he'd probably kill you with a slap.
Voldemort: Kid, the magic world is far deeper than you think. You're out of your league—better turn yourself in.
Satisfied with his little prank, Nate chuckled and left it at that.
Heading out the door, he ran into Lucy.
"You haven't been waiting for me out here all this time, have you?" Nate asked, surprised.
"Of course not! It's just a coincidence!" Lucy quickly denied it. "Come on, Nate, it's time to do that job! 200,000J, remember? You wouldn't want me to fall behind on my debt payments, would you?"
"Is that how you use that phrase?" Nate muttered under his breath. 'And anyway, if you can't pay, your dad will cover for you, right?'
Reluctantly, Nate sighed and started walking. "Fine, just this once. Don't expect this to become a habit."
Now he understood how Makarov must have felt when dealing with these people.
"What are you talking about? We're going to be teammates from now on!" Lucy said with a bright smile, quickly following behind him.
There was no way she was going to let go of this golden opportunity!