Eu sou mesmo um mago sério
Naquele ano, durante a cerimônia de seleção do mago mais poderoso do Reino de Orlan, Sua Excelência Ron fez um discurso importante. “Eu não entendo por que todos estão dizendo que há problemas com min
The man in the neat, polished suit looked him over. “Here to apply, are you? What’s your name?”
“Ron Griffith.”
“Age?”
“Sixteen.”
“Are you a virgin?”
“Uh... yes...”
“Sorry. We don’t hire virgins.”
Ron froze, staring in disbelief. “But I applied for a guard position at the Good-Again Potion Alchemy Factory.”
What in the hell? Even the security staff had to pass that kind of check now?
The interviewer, who looked every bit an elite professional, paused for a moment. Then, with perfect composure, he picked up the pink placard at his feet and placed it beside the sign for the Good-Again Potion Alchemy Factory.
A bold pink invitation to romance and passion, wages twelve gold lions a month.
Seeing this, Ron’s expression darkened. He had not expected such filthy, disgraceful dealings here.
Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.
What was wrong with being a virgin?
Did being a virgin mean one could not bear humiliation, endure hardship, and swallow bitterness for the sake of survival?
You do not know I am incapable unless you try me!
Looking at the handsome youth with his bright golden hair and striking features, the interviewer seemed to guess what he was thinking. He adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles with practiced professionalism.
“The rules are the rules. Perhaps you should consider another position...”
He smiled apologetically.
“To be frank, given your qualifications, the only thing available at the Good-Again Factory is a line job producing alchemical potions.”