Harem Master: Seduction System

Chapter 138: Influx Of Transfers To Verdant Dawn Academy

Alaric was not having a good day.

It had started like any other—with him enjoying a luxurious breakfast, planning his usual mischief, and basking in the self-satisfaction of being a genius. But then, like a thundercloud rolling in on a sunny day, the problem struck.

A rumor had spread like wildfire straight from the Eastern Borders. And not just any rumor.

No, this one was particularly damning.

Apparently, a shipment bound for the Phantom Assembly had been intercepted. And inside this shipment? Steele Family’s newest communication artifacts—the Phones.

’Well, this is just fantastic. Absolutely perfect. Couldn’t have asked for a better way to make my week worse,’ Alaric thought, rubbing his temples.

He wasn’t even angry. Just... disappointed in the universe.

It seemed that during the so-called interception, most of the crates had been destroyed in the battle. Only one remained, and it had conveniently found its way into the hands of the Eastern Borders military. Which meant, of course, that the higher-ups and—oh, joy—the Royal Family now had their hands on his precious, oh-so-exclusive Phones.

Alaric let out a long, suffering sigh and slumped into his chair.

’So, let’s review. First, someone steals my shipment. Then, my guards, who were supposed to be delivering said shipment, vanish into thin air. And now, the damn Royal Family knows that I did have more Phones but I didn’t send it to them.’

To say this was bad would be an understatement.

It was very, very bad.

Because only a few days ago, the Royal Family had directly approached him about obtaining these Phones. And he—being the responsible, law-abiding, definitely-not-secretly-dealing-with-the-Phantom-Assembly businessman that he was—had given them a perfectly reasonable excuse.

"No new Phones have been manufactured yet," he had told them.

And they had believed him.

But now? Well, now it would seem that the nonexistent Phones were very much existent and very much about to be in the possession of the Phantom Assembly, which made it look like he had been... lying.

Which he had.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that he needed to act fast before things spiraled out of control.

And so, being the absolute mastermind that he was, Alaric immediately did what any responsible person would do—he started making things up.

Within the hour, an official declaration from the Steele Family was sent out to the public.

"Hundred Phones have been stolen recently from our manufacturing unions," the statement read.

"The thieves not only stole the Phones but also uniforms of our guards and several carriages. We are working diligently to recover the stolen goods."

Now, was this completely foolproof? No. But was it enough to make people at least doubt the rumors? Yes.

And that was good enough for Alaric.

But just to make sure the public didn’t get too curious, he sweetened the deal with another grand announcement:

"The Steele Family is pleased to inform the people of the Eloriath Kingdom that the Phones will officially be available for purchase by next winter. Every commoner, noble, and merchant alike will have access to this revolutionary artifact. We assure you—there will be no shortage. Every citizen shall own one!"

That? That was the real genius move.

Because commoners? They didn’t care about political drama or intercepted shipments.

They just wanted their cool new toy.

And now that they had the assurance that they’d be getting their hands on one soon, they completely forgot about the missing hundred Phones.

’Alaric Steele, you magnificent bastard, you’ve done it again.’

As for the Royal Family, Alaric had braced himself for an actual war.

But surprisingly, all he received was a messenger carrying a sealed letter from the palace.

The message was simple:

"Alaric Steele,

It has come to our attention that a certain batch of your ’nonexistent’ communication artifacts has surfaced in military hands. While we do not wish to question your previous statements, this situation places the Steele Family in a rather... precarious position.

To ensure that there are no further misunderstandings, we request a total of one thousand Phones to be delivered to the Royal Palace within the next month.

Failure to comply will be considered an act of disrespect to the Crown."

Alaric read the letter twice. Then a third time.

And then he started laughing.

Back at the Eastern Borders, Eskil was pleased with the way things were progressing. His plan had worked perfectly. He had secured his alliances, maintained his secrecy, and even managed to cause a bit of trouble for Alaric Steele.

’Not a bad day’s work,’ he thought, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. ’Not bad at all.’

He knew that the game was far from over. Alaric Steele was a formidable opponent, and he wouldn’t give up easily. But Eskil was ready. He had his own plans, his own strategies, and he was determined to win.

’Let the games begin,’ he thought, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. ’I’m ready for whatever you throw at me, Alaric.’

~~

Time flowed like a lazy river, carrying with it the whispers of Alaric Steele and his miraculous creation—the ’Phone.’ What had begun as an explosion of curiosity had now settled into a steady hum of anticipation, a slow-burning excitement that never quite faded. The world, it seemed, was holding its breath, waiting for the next grand innovation to spring forth from the mind of the young prodigy.

And Alaric? He was far from idle.

While nobles, merchants, and common folk alike marveled at the ’Phone’—some using it as a luxury, others as a tool, and a rare few as an outright status symbol—he was already thinking ten steps ahead. The ’Phone’ was just the beginning, a mere stepping stone to greater things. His mind brimmed with new ideas, new inventions waiting for the right moment to be unleashed upon the world.

Of course, he wasn’t blind to the fact that others were scheming in the background. His enemies, many of whom had barely acknowledged him before, now watched him with keen interest. Some did so out of curiosity, others out of greed, but the most dangerous of them did so out of pure, cold ambition.

The noble families who had received a ’Phone’ at the Grand Banquet had not been content to simply marvel at its capabilities. They had immediately sought ways to break it down, to understand its inner workings. Some saw it as an opportunity—if they could reverse-engineer the device, they could monopolize the market and cement themselves as the lords of communication.

In the lavish halls of a particular noble estate, a group of men sat around a grand oak table, their faces tight with frustration.

"We must understand how this works!" a portly noble with a receding hairline declared, slamming his fist against the polished wood. "If we can create our own ’Phones,’ we’ll control the market! We will dictate the future of communication!"

Another noble, more slender and dressed in extravagant silk, sneered. "Easier said than done. The damn thing refuses to yield its secrets."

The artificers they had hired—the best minds they could afford, experts in magical enchantments and intricate machinery—worked tirelessly, dissecting the ’Phone’ piece by piece, scrutinizing every inch of it with enchanted lenses and magnifying glasses.

Yet, no matter how hard they tried, the device refused to reveal its secrets.

"It’s... it’s impossible," one artificer admitted in a defeated tone, rubbing his temples as if he had spent weeks without rest. His hair was a frazzled mess, his robes slightly singed from an earlier mishap. "This... this isn’t just some enchanted artifact. It’s built on principles we don’t even comprehend."

Another artificer, a sharp-eyed woman who had spent years perfecting her craft, nodded solemnly. "We’ve tried everything. We analyzed every rune, every material, every single bloody component. But it’s no use. It’s as if the whole device exists on a level of understanding beyond our own."

"Are you telling me," the portly noble growled, "that the brat from the Steele family has invented something so advanced that even you lot can’t understand it?"

"Yes," the woman replied bluntly.

The room fell into stunned silence.

The nobles exchanged glances, their expressions varying between disbelief and reluctant admiration. The news of their failure spread like wildfire, whispered in hushed tones across the kingdom. The world slowly began to realize that reverse-engineering the ’Phone’ was impossible, that the only way to acquire this revolutionary technology was through one person—Alaric Steele.

This realization only cemented Alaric’s status. Noble families, eager to gain access to the ’Phone,’ began looking for ways to get into the Steele family’s good graces.

"We must befriend Alaric," one noble suggested over dinner, swirling his wine thoughtfully. "He holds the key to our future."

Another noble, less patient and more ruthless, scoffed. "We don’t just need to befriend him. We need to get close enough to learn his secrets. Better yet, our children need to get close to him."

And so, a plan was formed.

Many noble families, along with leaders of trade unions, merchant guilds, and even certain military factions, decided to send their fifteen-year-old successors to the Verdant Dawn Academy. Ostensibly, they were there for an education. In reality, they had one purpose: befriend Alaric, learn the secrets of the ’Phone,’ and if possible—steal the blueprint for its creation.

Meanwhile, Alaric, seemingly oblivious to the machinations of the noble families, made his own grand announcement.

"I will be returning to the Verdant Dawn Academy to complete my seventh year of studies," he declared at the Steele Manor, his expression perfectly innocent.

Lyra Steele, his mother, raised a brow at him, clearly unimpressed. "Oh? After taking the world by storm using that communication artifact, now you suddenly care about your studies?"

Alaric smiled, his tone light. "A brilliant mind needs constant nurturing, Mother."

Of course, the real reason for his return was far from academic diligence. He knew that influence wasn’t just about controlling businesses or noble circles—it was about shaping the future. And the future lay in the hands of the next generation, the students of the Verdant Dawn Academy.

As if on cue, the moment his return was announced, a flood of transfer requests hit the academy.

"It’s quite remarkable," one academy professor murmured, scanning the list of names. "We’ve never had so many transfer students in a single year. It’s almost as if... they all decided to come here at the same time."

The academy’s higher-ups knew exactly what was going on, but they weren’t about to complain. More students meant more prestige, and more prestige meant more funding. And so, they accepted every single transfer without hesitation.

Alaric watched the wave of new students with mild amusement.

’How predictable.’

He mingled with them, charming them with his wit and charisma, always polite, always friendly. He knew many of them were spies, sent by their families to get close to him. But he didn’t care. He was confident in his ability to outmaneuver them.

What he didn’t know, however, was that among these new students were individuals like him. Individuals who had also been reborn or transmigrated from another world—Earth.

And ironically, it was the very device he had created—the ’Phone’—that would reveal his identity to them.

While none of the transmigrators had seen a ’Phone’ in this world, the rumors and descriptions of the device, its capabilities, and its unique design, resonated deeply with their memories of the advanced technology from their previous lives. They were certain—this was the same technology they had used back on Earth.

Each of the transmigrators, hailing from diverse backgrounds and possessing unique skills, kept their secret close to their chest. Even among themselves, they remained unaware of each other’s true origins, each believing they were alone in their knowledge. They were drawn to Alaric because of his invention of this Phone, something that they hadn’t imagined could be built in this world.