How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 722: Oh Principal

"...S-Seven hundred and twenty-two million... in merely four days... and that's not even accounting for the additional five hundred million from forthcoming sponsorships..."

Amelia's voice wavered slightly as she read from the report she held, her typical composed demeanor faltering just enough to betray how unbelievable the figures seemed.

"If we factor in the potential outcome of the impending investor meeting... we can reasonably estimate a total approaching 1.5 billion."

A beat of silence.

She swallowed hard.

"And even after subtracting the initial investment cost of approximately three hundred million... the academy would still possess an estimated net revenue of one billion."

"..."

"..."

A heavy, stifling quiet descended upon the meeting hall.

Amelia slowly lowered the document, her gaze drifting across the room—and the sight that greeted her only intensified the situation.

Not a soul uttered a word.

Not the heads of departments.

Not the esteemed senior professors.

Not even the board members positioned at the forefront.

They simply... gazed.

Some focused on the papers before them.

Others stared blankly into space.

Struggling to comprehend.

Because this—

This defied logic.

The Continental Grand Festival was conceptualized to generate profit. That much was undeniable. In contrast to Lumen Academy’s customary grand festival, this iteration was intended to draw greater attention, secure more sponsors, and foster increased external interest.

More financial gain.

That aspect was anticipated.

But this magnitude?

This was far beyond merely "more."

This was preposterous.

Seven hundred million earned in four days—without even tallying the revenue from the opening events yet.

The sheer scale of these numbers was sufficient to make even the most seasoned administrators question the accuracy of their records.

Yet, there was no error.

Every single figure had been meticulously verified.

Twice.

Thrice.

And this meticulousness only solidified the improbable reality.

One of the senior professors gradually leaned back in his seat, exhaling a soft breath as he swept a hand across his face.

"...This is..."

He left the sentence unfinished.

From across the table, a department head issued a concise, incredulous chuckle.

"...We’re not experiencing a collective dream, are we?"

No one offered a response.

For they were all contemplating the identical thought.

Over the preceding several months, the academy had been hemorrhaging funds.

Scandal after scandal, internal disputes, and relentless damage control—issue after issue compelled them to deplete their treasury ever deeper.

Resources were stretched to their limit, with funds constantly being reassigned simply to maintain a semblance of stability.

The sheer amount expended on reputation management alone was staggering.

And yet, now—

In a mere span of a few days—

They had recouped all those losses.

And then some.

Significantly more.

Amelia braced herself, her grasp on the report tightening as she proceeded.

"With the current projections... not only can we fully recuperate the deficits incurred from recent incidents, but we will also possess sufficient surplus to..."

She paused for a fleeting moment.

"...to bestow bonuses upon all staff members across every tier."

This declaration—

This finally shattered the oppressive silence.

A wave of murmurs rippled through the hall almost instantaneously.

Initially subdued.

Then growing in volume.

Disbelief swiftly transforming into palpable excitement.

And profound relief.

Because for the first time in a considerable period—

Their focus had shifted from deficits.

It had moved beyond damage control.

They were now contemplating expansion.

Envisioning fresh opportunities.

Considering the immense potential trajectory of this burgeoning momentum if it continued to build.

At the head of the table, one of the executives subtly leaned forward, his fingers laced together as a gradual smile began to spread across his features.

"...This festival..."

His voice was low—yet carried undeniable authority.

"...may very well prove to be the most financially rewarding decision this academy has ever undertaken."

And judging by the expressions adorning everyone else's faces—

There was not a single dissent.

"Our analytics indicate that the majority of this profit can be attributed to the recent interview proposal implemented by Principal Leilah,"

Amelia announced, turning to the subsequent page, though by this juncture, she hardly needed to consult it.

"The public reception has been... extraordinary. The pre-match interviews between contestants have garnered substantial interest—particularly those featuring palpable animosity between participants."

A few individuals within the room exchanged knowing glances.

They precisely understood which specific interviews were being referenced.

Amelia adjusted her spectacles slightly and continued,

"This engagement extends beyond the academy's confines. Our outreach initiatives to other academic institutions and even international bodies have been met with considerable favor. Several have already conveyed keen interest in future collaborative ventures... especially concerning live broadcast rights."

A brief pause ensued.

"Furthermore, the Luminaria Group’s most prominent trading division has formally requested a meeting with us."

This revelation—

This elicited a noticeable reaction.

Even among the senior leadership.

Dean Gale, seated amongst the department heads, registered a slight frown as he reclined in his chair. His arms crossed loosely as he processed the latest information.

The scope of this endeavor was expanding.

At an accelerated pace.

What had begun as a modest success was now snowballing into an international phenomenon.

His gaze drifted sideways, drawn to the very individual who had initiated this monumental shift in trajectory.

Leilah Grace.

The principal.

"...So that one concept truly was the genesis of everything, wasn't it..." he mused aloud, his voice barely a whisper.

Meanwhile, Amelia concluded her presentation, drawing herself up straighter.

"That summarizes the current situation. Furthermore, with the championship finals scheduled to recommence tomorrow, we anticipate another surge in our revenue." She glanced downward for a fleeting moment. "However... it might be prudent to allocate additional resources for enhanced security measures to ensure order is maintained."

A pause ensued, then she looked up.

"But given our present financial standing, even that expenditure can be accommodated without difficulty."

A soft exhale escaped her.

"...What are your instructions for us moving forward, Principal Leilah?"

All attention pivoted.

At the head of the conference table sat Leilah Grace.

Regardless of her advanced years, her aura exuded an undeniable strength. As one of the continent's most esteemed archmages, she retained the appearance of an agelessly elegant woman. Her long hair cascaded gracefully over her shoulders, and her amethyst eyes held a quiet, commanding presence as they surveyed the assembled individuals.

For a stretch of time, she remained silent.

She simply observed.

She assessed.

Then—

A smile touched her lips.

A serene, almost effortless expression.

"What do you mean, 'what should we do?'" she inquired gently.

A few individuals subtly adjusted their posture.

"We continue with the established plan."

Amelia's eyes widened slightly.

"But... the budget considerations—"

Leilah made a dismissive gesture, as though brushing away an inconsequential matter.

"We can disregard the bulk of those concerns now, can we not?" she stated. "At this juncture, our operational parameters are no longer as restricted as they once were."

Her gaze rested upon Amelia, firm yet devoid of harshness.

"I have already vested you with complete authority in those specific domains. As my most trusted confidante, there is no need for hesitation."

Amelia's frame tensed momentarily.

"Th-that is..."

Her response faltered, she was evidently taken by surprise.

For Leilah's words conveyed more than mere reassurance.

They signified profound trust.

An absolute delegation of responsibility.

And within a gathering comprising the academy's most senior officials... such a declaration of faith carried immense significance.

Leilah's smile softened almost imperceptibly.

"Manage it as you deem appropriate," she added calmly. "You have more than adequately earned that discretion."

As the chamber gradually resonated with a cacophony of voices—expressions of relief, elation, and sheer disbelief intermingling—one figure remained conspicuously composed amidst the rising excitement.

It was Leilah.

Externally, she maintained an image of composure, her fingertips lightly touching the table's surface, her signature serene smile firmly in place.

Internally, however—

Ahh... what is this peculiar sensation...

Her eyes held a gentler light as she absorbed the figures being recounted repeatedly.

...this feeling...

It felt almost dreamlike.

Had all those arduous efforts... finally borne fruit?

For a brief instance, she was on the verge of laughter.

Not a delicate titter.

But something far more unrestrained.

Because not a soul in that room truly grasped the immensity of her personal investment in ensuring the academy's continued survival.

The interminable council meetings.

The forced pleasantries.

The audacious negotiations with foreign dignitaries who presumed to exploit the academy's precarious standing. The relentless burden of preserving its reputation amidst a ceaseless barrage of scandals.

And the most galling aspect—

The act of pleading.

Not overtly, of course.

But the implications were undeniable.

Subtly compromising her own dignity in every exchange to secure vital funding, to maintain operational continuity, to prevent the entire enterprise from imploding under its own unsustainable weight.

Day after relentless day.

Without respite.

There were intervals when she seriously contemplated abandoning the entire endeavor.

Resigning from her esteemed post.

Entrusting the ensuing chaos to another.

...The sheer exhaustion was overwhelming.

And yet—

Now?

All of it felt like a necessary prelude to this very moment.

A complete reversal of fortune.

A boon she had scarcely dared to anticipate arriving so soon.

...Perhaps now, I can finally exhale.

The mere thought nearly triggered another burst of laughter.

Nearly.

But she restrained herself.

Because regardless of how auspicious the circumstances appeared, she was not the sort to succumb to excessive jubilation.

And more critically—

She lacked the brazenness to claim sole credit for this triumph.

As the discussions within the room intensified, Leilah subtly raised her hand.

"Ahem."

That single sound commanded attention.

The room hushed almost instantaneously.

Her gaze swept across every individual present, unwavering and composed.

"Esteemed colleagues, our engagement this year has yielded exceptionally successful outcomes," she began, her voice resonant and collected. "It is my earnest desire that we replicate these impressive results in the coming year as well."

A few heads nodded in agreement.

"There is no necessity for unnecessary complexity. Diligent oversight and unwavering consistency will suffice." Her expression softened slightly. "I place my trust in each of you to ensure these standards are met."

A brief silence followed before she added,

"And I kindly request... that excessive praise be directed away from my person."

This declaration left several individuals momentarily bewildered.

"While I did implement the broadcasting initiative, the original idea didn't come from me."

A slight smile graced her lips.

"It was Princess Snow who brought it to my attention."

A few hushed murmurs rippled through the room.

"If anything, she deserves the recognition—not me."

Leilah then turned her focus towards Amelia.

"Amelia, allocating five to ten percent of our current profit won't impact our operations, correct?"

Amelia nodded after a brief mental calculation.

"Yes, it won't pose any issues."

"Good." Leilah leaned back slightly. "Then transfer that amount to the royal treasury of the Germonia Empire."

Several heads in the room lifted at that.

"And make sure His Majesty is properly informed," she continued calmly. "Frame it clearly as a gesture of gratitude... toward his daughter."

Amelia straightened her posture.

"Understood, Principal."

Leilah offered a small nod, her expression returning to its usual placid state.

"Well then, I'm sure you all have plenty more to discuss," she stated, rising from her seat. "But I'll be taking my leave first. Please, make yourselves comfortable—even without me."

A few individuals attempted to voice something, but she was already in motion. Her movements were clean, efficient, and utterly without hesitation. The instant she stepped out of the hall, the noise from within faded, replaced by the quiet ambiance of the corridor.

And just like that—

The immense weight lifted.

By the time she reached her private office, any pretense of maintaining appearances was abandoned. The door clicked shut behind her, and she proceeded directly to her desk, collapsing into the chair.

Then—

A wide smile spread across her face.

Exceedingly wide.

Completely unrestrained.

"...Hah."

The sound escaped before she could consciously stop it.

Everything that had just transpired... it still felt quite surreal. The figures, the subtle shifts in reactions, the palpable change in the room's atmosphere—it had all been far too smooth, far too perfect.

"...This is actually happening..."

She leaned back, allowing herself to sink into the chair, bringing one hand up to briefly cover her eyes.

After enduring everything—

The relentless stress.

The crushing pressure.

The constant, precarious balancing act just to keep the academy afloat—

This felt nothing short of a miracle.

"With this much..." she murmured softly, the smile still present, now gentler but no less filled with satisfaction, "maybe I can finally resign comfortably..."

The thought lingered, a siren's call.

Incredibly tempting.

"...All I need is a proper protégé, right?"

Someone sufficiently capable to assume the mantle.

Someone she could entrust the academy to without a shred of worry.

Someone—

—that might already exist.

Her smile deepened subtly at this particular notion.

But before she could fully indulge in the comforting thought—

The door swung open.

Abruptly.

Without any prior warning.

"Hello. Sorry for the sudden intrusion, Principal... it's been a while."

Leilah blinked.

Then sat bolt upright almost instantly.

"P-Princess Snow?"

The shift in her tone was instantaneous and dramatic.

"You're back? Where have you been?"

Snow entered with casual grace, as if her sudden appearance was entirely expected, closing the door behind her with a soft, definitive click.

"I'll explain that shortly," she replied, waving her hand dismissively. "More importantly..."

She moved forward and placed a stack of documents onto the desk.

"I stopped by the student council room earlier this morning."

Her eyes lifted, meeting Leilah's gaze directly.

"These..."

A brief pause hung in the air.

"...are they real?"

Leilah glanced down at the papers presented.

Then back up.

"Yes."

That was the extent of her verbal response.

But the subtle upturn of her lips—

The slight relaxation in her shoulders—

It conveyed far more than mere words ever could.

For a fleeting moment, she appeared on the verge of erupting into laughter right there.

"A revenue of over a billion..."

Snow's eyes calmly scanned the documents, her expression largely unreadable, though a faint thread of interest was detectable in her voice.

"That's... impressive. And a bit surprising."

She flipped a page, her gaze once again sweeping over the detailed figures.

"It seems the academy managed quite well without my involvement. Financially speaking, at least."

Leilah let out a small, somewhat flustered chuckle, still basking in the glow of her earlier success.

"Y-Yes, things have been going rather smoothly lately," she stammered, attempting to regain her composure. "Actually, since you were the one who proposed the idea in the first place... if you'd like, you can take a few more days off from your student council duties."

Snow didn't even look up from the papers.

"It's fine, Principal. I don't mind working."

She placed the documents down neatly on the desk surface.

"Anyway, that's not why I came."

Leilah's smile faltered for a fraction of a second.

"...Oh?"

Snow lifted her gaze.

"We need to talk about the procedural transfer of profit from our last contract agreement."

"...C-Contract?"

Snow tilted her head slightly, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

"Don't you remember?"

She reached into her folder and retrieved a single sheet, placing it directly in front of Leilah with a gentle tap.

"When I presented this concept to you... I had you sign this document."

Leilah’s gaze fell downwards.

Then, it snapped wide open.

"It explicitly states that I am entitled to ninety percent of the total earnings from the live broadcast revenue," Snow continued in a steady voice. "Your signature is right here. And mine as well. I believe you received a copy back then."

"W-Wait... when did I—"

Her sentence went unfinished.

Because the memory surfaced.

That specific day.

Their discussion.

Snow bringing up the broadcasting idea with that same even tone. The proposal had seemed intriguing—but not this consequential. And the paper...

Leilah recalled signing it.

Without much thought.

It was just a casual signature then.

Because at the time, the festival was merely another effort to offset financial losses.

There was no conceivable way she could have foreseen this outcome.

No possibility she believed it would escalate to this point.

Her grip on the document tightened subtly.

"...You..."

Snow remained unfazed by Leilah’s reaction.

Instead, she spoke with the same composed demeanor.

"Please direct my portion of the earnings to my personal account."

A brief moment of silence followed.

"Not the royal treasury."

"...W-What?"

The words barely escaped Leilah’s lips.

And in that exact instant—

It felt as though something fractured within her.

That overwhelming sense of triumph she had been savoring—

Vanished.

And just like that—

Leilah’s entire world shattered into pieces.