As soon as they left, Michello couldn't hold back, loudly venting his frustration:
"Why'd we give them so much money?! A few million to brush them off would've been plenty! We're the Magic Council! How can we bow to a guild?!"
"How can we let some punk kid threaten us?!"
Org sighed, rubbing his brow with his left hand. "It's because he's a punk kid from a guild that this is such a headache."
"How old is he? Twenty-one, and already a Wizard Saint! Plus, he's got two nineteen-year-old Wizard Saints backing him up!"
"And don't forget, their guild has Laxus, Gildarts—Fairy Tail's got at least five Wizard Saint-level fighters now!"
"That's already a serious force. Add in Fire Dragon, Mystogan, and their roster of other wizards…"
"If we push them into becoming a dark guild, Fairy Tail could become the fourth major dark organization in the Balam Alliance, maybe even surpassing the Oración Seis and rivaling Tartaros. They'd be our biggest threat."
"Exactly," Belno, an elderly councilwoman with yellow hair, nodded in agreement. "Instead of making enemies and driving them to the other side, it's better to offer some benefits, appease them, and pull them closer."
"Their guild's efficiency and enthusiasm for taking down dark guilds are well-known. They're number one among all guilds, which helps us maintain order."
Michello wasn't convinced. "But those guys always clean out every last Jewel and magic item from the dark guilds they take down! Every job Fairy Tail handles, we don't get a single cent! They even take anything remotely valuable!"
"Bandits have more heart than them!!"
"And 800 million Jewels?! That's practically all our liquid funds!"
Crawford, seated at the head of the table, had a glint in his eye. "We may not need to pay the full sum from the Council's accounts."
The other council members froze. Ultear, dressed in pure white robes and usually silent, spoke softly, "What do you mean, Chairman?"
Crawford didn't answer directly, instead turning to Michello and Org. "When Jose contacted you before, did he mention the reason for his actions?"
"Like, say, who commissioned him?"
Michello and Org's hearts skipped a beat.
The Chairman knows we were in contact with Jose?!
Org forced himself to stay calm, clearing his throat vaguely. "I… might've heard something."
"Seems it's tied to the Heartfilia family's heiress. She's got a rocky relationship with her family. The client for this Phantom Lord mess was her father—Jude Heartfilia."
"Good." Crawford nodded, satisfied. "Then the compensation for attacking a legal guild should naturally fall on the instigator—the Heartfilia family."
"The Council is merely 'upholding justice,' recovering losses from the responsible party and 'passing them on' to the victims, Fairy Tail."
He paused, his tone turning suggestive. "Afterward, investigate the Heartfilia family thoroughly. If it checks out, proceed with this plan."
"After all, this counts as doing Fairy Tail a small favor, doesn't it?"
"Meeting adjourned."
"You all know what can and can't be discussed from today's agenda."
With that, Crawford's portly figure faded from his seat like a phantom.
The other council members' figures blurred and vanished one by one, leaving only Yajima lingering in his chair.
He sighed, slowly climbing down from the high-backed seat, hands behind his back as he shuffled out of the meeting hall.
The frog messenger at the door looked surprised. "Lord Yajima, you came in person this time, not as a thought projection?"
"Yeah," Yajima nodded lightly, his tone calm. "I was nearby handling some business, so I came straight over when I heard the news."
With that, he left the Council, intending to visit Fairy Tail to check on Makarov's condition and see if he could lend a hand.
Not far from the Council's entrance, at a quiet street corner, he spotted three familiar figures waiting.
"Roger? Erza? Mirajane? What are you still doing here?" Yajima asked, surprised.
Erza stepped forward, her tone respectful. "Mr. Yajima, we figured you'd be worried about the Master's condition and might visit the guild, so we waited for you here."
Roger's voice echoed in Yajima's mind: 'Mr. Yajima, the Master's actually fine. The injuries in the photos were faked with my illusion magic.'
Yajima nearly shouted in shock but quickly glanced around, lowering his voice. "You can't say stuff like that near the Council! It's too risky!"
Then it hit him—the voice was in his head!
'Telepathy magic?'
Roger's voice came again, tinged with amusement: 'Yup, this way's safer for talking.'
Yajima gave a wry smile, shaking his head. "You kids are way too bold! And Makarov, going along with your antics, deceiving the Council!"
'How'd you convince him?'
At his question, all three grinned simultaneously.
Roger's voice teased: 'Mr. Yajima, why assume we convinced the Master, and not that he orchestrated this whole thing?'
Yajima chuckled. 'Makarov wouldn't pull something like this. You kids are bold because you've never had to write a disciplinary report.'
'Makarov's written tens of thousands of them. These days, those standardized reports would've been rejected if I hadn't helped cover for him.'
'Tricking the Council and extorting 800 million? He'd be writing reports for life.'
Roger's lips twitched upward, recalling the drawer stuffed with disciplinary report drafts Makarov had asked him to "mass-produce" with a duplication item.
He coughed lightly, steadying his expression and steering the conversation back: 'Mr. Yajima, I wanted to ask about someone—a female council member in pure white robes. What's her name?'
Yajima thought for a moment. 'White robes? You mean Councilor Tia, right?'
Roger: 'Just Tia? No other name?'
Yajima confirmed: 'Yup, her registered name's Tia. Why, is something up?'
Tia… Dropped the "Ul" and kept just "Tia"?'
But why change her name? In the original story, she was Ultear. Roger's mind swirled with questions, but he pressed on: 'Just curious. What about the young, black-haired male councilor next to her? When did he join the Council?'
Yajima pondered. 'Tia's neighbor? That'd be Councilor Rex, I think.'
'He joined around the same time as Tia, a few years ago. Rose to councilor pretty quickly.'
'Now that you mention it, Rex is usually hot-tempered, but he didn't say a word in today's meeting. Kind of odd.'
Roger's brow furrowed unconsciously. Rex? That name doesn't exist in the original story. And no sign of Jellal in the Council's ranks?
Did my crossing over cause a butterfly effect?
There was a Wizard Saint named Rex in the Council's records.
Did he take the spot meant for Jellal and infiltrate the Council's inner circle?
After a brief moment of thought, Roger refocused on Yajima: 'Mr. Yajima, please head to Ms. Porlyusica's forest cottage to rest for a bit. The Master will head there soon for treatment.'
'Sounds good,' Yajima replied, stroking his beard with a nostalgic glint in his eyes. 'It's been a while since I've seen Porlyusica. It'll be nice to catch up with an old friend.'
With that, Yajima turned and ambled toward the forest.
Roger, Erza, and Mirajane continued toward the guild's temporary base.
As they walked, Roger sank into thought, his brow furrowing again:
Ultear's still lurking in the Council, meaning the "R System" plan is likely still moving forward, just one step from completion.
The old Council's doomed to collapse, but a new one will rise in its place.
This organization's like a sword hanging over everyone's heads. It doesn't strike often, but its constant meddling is annoying enough. We need to plant someone inside.
But—who?
His mind flashed through familiar faces in the guild, dismissing each one.
First, they need to be strong enough to survive if Tartaros attacks the Council.
Second, they need a calm, patient personality to handle endless paperwork and tedious meeting disputes without losing it.
Finding someone in the rowdy Fairy Tail guild who fits both criteria is tough—
Lost in thought, he felt warm, soft hands gently smooth his furrowed brow.
Roger looked up to meet Erza and Mirajane's concerned gazes.
"What's wrong?" Erza asked, her voice steady but laced with worry. "Is there something unresolved with this incident? Or another problem?"
Roger shook his head, offering a reassuring smile. "It's not about Phantom Lord. That's done. I'm thinking about something else."
Mirajane tilted her head, her smile gentle. "If you don't mind, why not share? We can brainstorm together~"
"One person can get stuck in a rut, but three heads might spark a great idea~"
Feeling their care, Roger's heart warmed. He decided not to overthink and spoke openly: "It's not a secret. I'm just wondering if there's anyone in the guild who's strong, capable, and—most importantly—won't get fed up with endless paperwork and long meetings."
Both women fell into thought at the odd request.
After a moment, Erza looked up, puzzled. "Is this person being picked for a special mission that only they can do?"
"Only one—" Roger started, then froze, eyes widening.
Wait! Why am I fixated on just one person?!
If the timeline stays roughly the same, Ultear and this Rex will eventually fall from their council seats, leaving more than one vacancy!
I've got an item that can get two perfect candidates in!
The guild's got plenty of strong people. Now I just need someone calm, meticulous, and sharp enough to handle paperwork and meetings flawlessly.
With that, his earlier worries vanished, his mind clearing.
"Thanks, Erza!" Roger's face brightened with a relieved smile. "I think I've got a solution!"
Erza blinked, a question mark practically floating above her head. "Huh? What'd I say?"
Roger's mood lifted, and he grinned at the two women, switching to a lighter topic. "Alright, enough of that. With a huge sum coming to the guild soon, we can rebuild from the ground up!"
"Any new facilities you'd love to see? Maybe something fun?"
"Anything goes~ After all, we're about to be rolling in—let's say, at least 800 million Jewels!"
"Anything?" Erza's eyes sparkled, and she blurted out, "Then I want a brand-new, super-sized bakery!"
"And a beautiful little garden near the guild, with a white swing and a gazebo wrapped in flowering vines!"
Her cheeks flushed with excitement as she pictured it. "Basking in warm sunlight, eating the freshest, tastiest cakes, and enjoying the garden's scenery—it'd be paradise!"
Mirajane squinted, eyeing Erza's dessert-fueled daydream with a sly smirk. In a teasing, lazy tone, she said, "My, my~ That's a very specific wish~"
She flicked her hair, giving Roger a magnanimous smile. "I'm fine with anything~ After all, I'm not a greedy girl~"
She emphasized "greedy" just enough.
Erza: "???"
A second later, it clicked. "You! You sneaky woman!!"
Her cheeks puffed out in indignation. "You did that on purpose! Waiting for me to speak first!"
She lunged at Mirajane, who, anticipating it, slipped behind Roger like a nimble cat, peeking out with a playful tongue stuck out.
"You said it first, Erza~ How's that my fault?"
Her voice dripped with innocence, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh my~ Erza's turning into a complainer now~ So different from a pure, kind girl like me~"
"You! Don't hide! Face me in a duel!!" Erza shouted, circling Roger to grab her.
"No way~" Mirajane clung to Roger's sleeve, using him as a shield to dodge. "Catch me if you can!"
The two chased and dodged around Roger, one fuming, the other giggling.
Caught in the middle, Roger watched their familiar, nostalgic banter, his lips curving into a wide smile.
They're just like they were when we were kids.
Amid their playful bickering, the trio reached the guild's makeshift underground warehouse.
Even before entering, the sounds of raucous laughter, clinking glasses, and playful shouts spilled out.
As they stepped inside, the lively atmosphere hushed instantly, all eyes snapping to them.
Makarov, holding a mug of ale, hurried over, his face tense with anticipation as he whispered, "So? How'd it go? The Council didn't give you any trouble, right?"
"The plan?" Roger dragged out the word, building suspense as everyone stared eagerly. Finally, he broke into a brilliant grin and announced loudly:
"Complete—success!"
Those four words lit a fuse, and the warehouse erupted in deafening cheers!
"Woo-hoo!!!"
"Awesome!!"
"Haha! We knew it!"
"Strongest guild! We're the best!!"
Mugs clashed, ale splashed, and people slapped each other's shoulders, faces beaming with pride and joy.
Makarov's mustache quivered with excitement, but he held it together, pressing for the key detail: "So—how much did the Council agree to pay?"
He held up two fingers, testing the waters. "Ten million? Or—twenty million?"
Roger didn't answer, just grinned and flashed an "eight" with his hand.
"Eight?" Makarov paused, then lit up, though with a hint of disappointment. "Eight million, huh? Not as much as you predicted, Roger, but squeezing that from the Council's stingy hands is already incredible!"
Mirajane leaned in, her voice sweet but clear as she corrected him: "Master~ Not eight million. Eight billion~"
"H-How much?!" Makarov's eyes bulged like saucers. He wondered if the ale had wrecked his hearing. His voice shook, barely squeezing out, "You—you said—eight! Eight! Eight billion?!"
Roger nodded firmly, his smile unwavering. "Yup. Not eight million, not eighty million, but a full eight billion Jewels."
"Shouldn't be long before the Council sends it over."
Makarov sucked in a breath so deep it seemed he'd vacuum up all the air in the warehouse!
His pupils shook wildly, his face drained of color, his eyes rolled back, and his mug clattered to the floor, ale spilling everywhere as he toppled backward with a thud!
The room fell dead silent.
A few seconds later, Erza was the first to cry out, panic in her voice: "Master!!"
She rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside Makarov, grabbing his tiny shoulders and shaking him frantically. "Master! Wake up!! You can't die on us!!!"
Lucy, watching, twitched, a giant sweatdrop sliding down her forehead. "Uh, Erza—I think shaking him like that might actually kill him."
As Makarov's face grew paler from Erza's vigorous shaking, Roger stepped in, gently pulling her back. "Erza, relax. He's just overwhelmed and passed out from the excitement."
"Let him lie flat, give him some warm water or a calming potion, and he'll be fine."
"Is—is that all?" Erza blinked, loosening her grip.
With her hands off him, Makarov's head hit the cold, hard floor with another thud, the sound crisp and clear.
"Ow! That hurt!!" Makarov yelped, clutching the back of his head as he sat up groggily, looking around in a daze.
"What happened? I thought I heard something about the Council giving us—eight, eight billion!!!"
The massive number hit him again, and he gasped, eyes starting to roll back as he teetered on the edge of fainting again.
Roger, quick on his feet, changed the subject loudly: "Master! What kind of new guildhall are you planning to build with this huge sum?! Everyone's waiting for your call!"