How to Get Girls, Get Rich, and Rule the World (Even If You're Ugly) Chapter 8: How to learn magic after escaping the girl’s fath

Speed is a terribly underrated virtue — especially when a brick of a man charges you with a broom like it's a holy sword blessed by the gods of janitorial justice.

First thing I did — as any genius would — was run.

Lina scread, the old man scread louder, and ? I vanished down the side alley like a chicken thief in festival season. My heart was pounding in my throat, my bare feet slapped against wet cobblestone, and my brain was already drafting three different escape routes before I even turned the first corner.

There was no grace. Only urgency.

And that's how, with my pride crushed and adrenaline burning like cheap liquor, I made it back to the edge of the forest. I slipped into the trees, took a deep breath, and finally pulled one of those fruits I'd gathered earlier from my bag. Still fresh, still weird-tasting, but they worked.

[Item Consud: Dark Wildfruit]→ 10 HP (light regeneration over 10 minutes)→ Removes [Exhausted I] if consud with fresh water→ Can be used to make calming tea or simple elixir (with basic alchemy)→ HP: 44/70

I sat beneath a twisted tree where I could see the faint outline of the village in the distance. The morning mist had started to lift, peeling back to reveal the little world I now needed to conquer.

Dark rooftops, chimneys still smoking, the creak of the first carts rolling through the main street... That place looked like a painting half-finished and abandoned by the artist. And ? I was just a dirt-covered intruder with a reckless plan.

But let's be honest... every empire starts that way.

I leaned against the trunk, chewing the last bits of the fruit, eyes fixed on the slow stirrings of Ashveil. This wasn't the ti to act — not yet. First ca observation. Analysis. Strategy.

And waiting for the right mont to crash the party.

[New Objective Added: Infiltrate Ashveil]→ Gather useful information about the village→ Explore points of interest: Library, Newspaper Office, Town Hall

The morning mist now drifted lazily through the alleys, peeling away from doors and windows like sleepy curtains. Ashveil was small, but alive — it slled like fresh bread, rang with rusty bells, and whispered secrets you could almost hear if you listened hard enough.

I walked slowly, absorbing every detail.

There was a modest tailor shop with dresses hung outside, a grumpy blacksmith hamring sothing that clearly owed her money, and an old lady selling mushroom tea that "strengthens your marriage." The kind of place where rumors grow faster than crops.

But what really caught my attention... was him.

A boy. Ugly as regret, with crooked teeth and a voice sharp enough to pierce armor.

"ASHVEIL GAZETTE! SCANDAL IN THE TOWN HALL! PAGE TWO!"

"ASHVEIL GAZETTE! THE CIRCUS RETURNS! PAGE FIVE!"

"ASHVEIL GAZETTE! ROYAL BETRAYAL IN THE CAPITAL! PAGE SIX!"

The kid sohow looked proud of being ignored. He waved those newspapers like sacred scrolls and shouted the headlines with the conviction of soone who truly believed he was changing the world.

I kept walking until I saw it: the distribution building.

Small, but with a certain dignity — wide windows, a bell tower on top, shelves lined with crates and stacks of yellowed paper, all reeking of fresh ink and ambition. Out front, a wrought-iron sign read:

Ashveil Gazette – Since 349.

Now we were getting sowhere.

The facade was simple, but sothing about it felt important. Professional. Almost magical.

That was when my breath caught for a mont.

She stepped out the front door like daylight itself had decided to follow soone. Hair the color of freshly harvested wheat, eyes so pale they seed to carry the morning sky, and a posture so unintentionally graceful it was unfair — like she didn't even know she was perfect.

And I, Dante, half-orc, half-human, half-hideous, froze in the middle of the street.

Behind her ca the man who could only be her father: Marlow, the newspaperman himself. He shared so of her features — barely — except for the broad shoulders and the kind of face that looked like it had argued with ti and lost.

The man was rough around the edges, sure. But the girl? The girl was divine. Based on everything I'd seen in this rickety little village, I could easily declare her the undisputed queen of hotness in Ashveil. She was so pale she looked like the sun had never even dared touch her.

That kind of feeling — lust, infatuation, divine crush — is dangerous. It knocks down n already face-down in the mud. n like .

I got that familiar itch in my fingers. And, well... elsewhere.

My brain started building scenarios where I married her. I'd introduce her to my parents — if I had any. We'd have three kids and a dog. Live in a house with curtains. I had no idea how I was going to get her — the newspaperman's daughter — or how I was going to conquer the world, but I knew one thing for sure: I needed money.

And honestly? I was starting to wonder how the hell I'd ever get rich in this world.

One idea was going back to that cave. Grab all the material I saw and sell it here. But even that was a problem, because it was currently being squatted by a giant spider who wanted to eat alive.

With all that in mind, I found myself back in the forest before sunrise. The mist still crawled between the trees like the world was trying to hide from itself. I slipped into a less-trodden path, behind rocks and roots that gave cover. There, in a forgotten clearing, I decided this would be my "lab."

I pulled out what was left of the fruit I had collected earlier — so kind of bluish fig, weird but edible. I ate it cold, sitting on a fallen log, and then pulled from mory the image the old man had shown : that ragged scrap of parchnt, covered in red runes carved like they'd been scratched in dried blood.

I didn't have the paper, but... the image was branded into my mind like a tattoo behind the eyes. It was like I'd taken a photograph.

I closed my eyes. Took a deep breath. And activated the system:

| SYSTEM: NEW MAGIC ENTRY DETECTED |

[Scroll Fragnt – Basic Fla Spell]→ The magic contained in this fragnt is incomplete.

Category: Pyromancy (Base Tier)

Spell:Ember Spark→ Launches a small fireball at close range.

Cost: 40 EP

Required Fire Affinity: 1% minimum

Status: [UNLEARNED] – Practical training required.

I spent the first hour trying like a madman. Every motion of my hands was an attempt to reproduce the gestures I'd imagined. The words from the parchnt — or what I rembered of them — were repeated with the focus of soone trying to recall a half-forgotten recipe.

managed was a faint tremor — a timid attempt to warm the air around .

"Nothing..." I muttered under my breath.

My eyes stung from the effort. I felt the ache building in my hands, but I kept trying. The heat wouldn't co. The magic wouldn't spark.

Hours had passed, and with each failed attempt, exhaustion wrapped tighter around . I kept going, again and again, but my body wasn't built for this kind of strain. My energy drained faster than I expected.

The heat of magic wasn't just elusive — it was greedy. It was chewing through my strength like I owed it sothing. My arms hung heavy, my hands tingled from fatigue, but still, I pushed on. I tried and failed, and tried again, and failed harder.

"What am I doing wrong?" I asked myself.

My face was drenched in sweat, breath growing shallow. Every ti the words reached my lips, they felt emptier, like the air itself was rejecting the spell. I didn't know what else to do.

After all that effort, doubt finally slithered in. Maybe this was too much. Maybe it was just impossible.

"I'm an idiot," I muttered, slamming my fist into the dirt.

My thoughts were foggy. The magic I craved now seed like so distant myth. I had tried everything — words, gestures, runes — and still, nothing.

Doubt gnawed at . But right alongside it, sothing else sparked: stubbornness. Pure, irrational, infuriating stubbornness. There was no way I had co this far just to quit.

Maybe it was already late morning. I was drained, trembling, unfocused. I wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep for a week. But a small voice inside — the one that hated losing — demanded one more try.

So I tried.

This ti, with everything. Full concentration. Every breath in rhythm. Every gesture deliberate.

And sothing happened.

A spark.

Not just any spark, but a real fla — unstable, flickering like a candle. It danced in the center of my palm, small as a coin, but it was there. I could feel the warmth for the first ti, see the magic take shape.

It happened. A fireball the size of an apple — fragile, wavering, but undeniably real.

| MAGIC UNLOCKED |

[EMBER SPARK] – Lv. 1→ Launches a short-range fla orb.

The sight of that little fla made grin like an idiot. It wasn't big. It wasn't powerful. But it was proof. Proof that I could. Proof that I did.

The wave of satisfaction was so strong I nearly passed out right there. My body was wrecked, my mind fogged, but the joy of beating the odds kept upright.

I had another tool now. Another weapon. Of course, my main problem still hadn't changed.

I was still broke.

But at least now I had an idea of how to fix that.

"Giant spider," I said between gasps. "Here I co."

Now all I needed to figure out... was how exactly I was going to kill a giant, murderous, probably magic-resistant spider.