Chapter 27
Chapter 27
I had an instinctive feeling.
Something was there.
Something very annoying and troublesome.
"Well……."
Iris fidgeted, then confessed in a tiny, timid voice.
"There'll be an observation class tomorrow."
"An observation class?"
What, a parents' observation class?
And they do that crap here too, at my age?
"Yes. One professor is scheduled to come."
"…Pardon?"
"Things were moving rather quickly, so I at least managed to push hard enough to get the lab first in an act first, check later sort of deal."
Putting aside how cute her frantic add-on was.
I was hit with a sharp wave of burnout.
Because I had a rough idea of how this whole thing worked.
Ah.
What a fucking unfair world this is for men.
A few days ago, my father had almost caved my skull in with a spinning crystal ashtray.
'This person is older than me, and even a professor, yet she's treated like the whole family's beloved youngest princess.'
Just imagining it made me tired.
Still, what could I do?
She seemed to have done her best, so I should understand.
"Anyway, I understand. You must've had a hard time."
"...Is that okay?"
Iris looked up at me with surprised eyes.
She was still watching my expression.
Kind of pitiful.
"I'm not so unreasonably rigid that I can't understand that. You were trying your best to cover for me and take care of my lab, Professor. I get it."
"...!"
Iris's expression brightened.
Unlike the day before yesterday, when she'd looked like a pureblood vampire, this was a bright, cheerful smile.
Looking at that smiling face, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong.
'No matter how I look at it... I'm the one above her in this situation.'
Looks like I'm the one who should be approving and giving feedback here; the positions have somehow been reversed.
"But, Professor."
"Hm?"
"Don't go meeting just anybody."
"...Why?"
"There are reasons."
Because I couldn't exactly say to her face, "You're the perfect mark for a scam."
I stood up, swallowing the last thing I wanted to say.
'Can't we do something about the clothes again?'
I couldn't exactly treat my mentor like a nude streamer.
Fuck. I remember there being something camera-like.
I should've at least captured it with that.
Damn it! Shit!
'Ah... that was fucking amazing. Give me back my feast for the eyes.'
Just then, Iris asked urgently.
"What classes do I have today and tomorrow?"
"Introduction to Public Administration and Ancient Imperial History."
"Mm. That's a relief."
"A relief how?"
What exactly was there to be relieved about?
Iris gave me a firm warning.
"If those course professors happen to show interest in Cassian,"
"If they do?"
"Then be firm and draw the line that you've already joined a school. Understood?"
"..."
No way.
Are they going to try that again?
This woman was worrying herself sick that every time I went to class, the professors would come drooling over me.
Then what was that "relief" just now about?
That probably meant they weren't from a group likely to make any especially tempting offer.
What am I, some kind of anxiety patient?
Still, calming a teacher's anxiety is a student's duty too, I guess.
"Understood. Don't worry about it."
"All right. I'll trust you."
Only then did Iris lean back against the sofa and relax into a comfortable smile.
Sunlight slipping through the gap in the window scattered over her black hair.
A familiar feeling, though I'm sick of it.
She's really pretty.
She's stupidly gorgeous, seriously.
So give me back my dress.
Who the hell took it!
* * *
Click.
The brass-colored key turned smoothly.
When I turned the doorknob and pushed, the dusty smell of air that hadn't been touched by human hands for ages rushed out.
"Ah."
A bare space with a desk, a chair, and two empty bookshelves.
Bleak, sure, but especially so because it was so empty.
'This is exactly what a personal study room and department room should feel like.'
Isn't this basically a personal study room and a personal club room?
"Perfect."
A life where I could kill my free periods without worrying about anyone's eyes on me.
This is the good stuff. What's so special about YAS, anyway?
I flopped down on the dusty chair and spun around in a circle.
"Heh-heh-heh!"
It's a lab, but research my ass.
If anything, maybe I'd do sleep research?
First I need to bring in a bed.
Not some fake folding one. A real mattress.
Professors stay up all night and sleep in their labs anyway, so who'd have a problem with me putting in a bed?
If I put a mini fridge in here and stock it with jerky and drinks, wouldn't this be paradise on earth?
'So this is why people dream of owning their own place.'
My own healing spot where I could slack off without worrying about my father.
I'm happy.
I leaned the backrest all the way back, laced my fingers behind my head, and set both feet up on the desk with a pair of thunks, thunk! thunk!
The perfect posture of a complete brat.
"Kyaa. I've made it."
How long had I even been in the capital, and I already had my own private lab!
You really do have to live long enough to see everything!
"Mm-hm. From here on out, everything's going according to plan."
I may not be her guardian, but the pink puppy named Lily had been successfully adopted by Viscountess Müller, so she'll be fine.
I'll just quietly slack off here, play with Iris now and then, get my diploma, and head back to the countryside.
Perfect.
Then it happened.
Tap tap!
A tiny knocking sound came from the window.
So.
From the window, not the door.
And I'm on the sixth floor?
"Huh? What is that?"
I jumped and looked toward the window.
There was a very familiar puff of feathers sitting there.
"..."
It was a sparrow.
'Don't tell me it's that birdbrain bastard?'
Sparrows all look more or less the same, but somehow I could tell.
That oddly irritating look in its eyes.
It rolled its head around, then fluttered its wings a little like it was telling me to open the door, and I was sure of it again.
It's that bastard.
The same sparrow bastard from that little animal trio that had shaken down my jerky at the incinerator.
As if it didn't like me just staring at it, it pecked at the glass again with its beak.
Tap tap! Tap!
It was shameless, if anything.
"What are you, a thug? Acting like I owe you one or something?"
I folded my arms and didn't move an inch.
This is my sanctuary.
I won't let even one animal in here.
If I let it in once, it'd obviously spread the word all over town that this place was a free buffet.
And how dare some animal reeking of Lily come here?
"Go on. No jerky."
When I waved my hand, it tilted its head.
It looked like it was asking, "Why aren't you giving me any today?"
Why am I even able to understand that? What the hell.
"Go to Lily. She's your food supply now. I'm not feeding you either—I don't trust you."
What, did it understand me?
The sparrow stared at me blankly, then suddenly spun around, spread its wings, and shot off.
A tiny dot vanished from sight in an instant.
Watching its back as it left, I felt strangely uneasy.
"...Sigh."
Now that it's gone, I'm uneasy again.
Lily, nothing bad happened to you, right?
That helpless weakling isn't crying somewhere again, is she?
Has she met Viscountess Müller yet?
Hmm, I doubt it, though.
"...No. I need to stop worrying about it."
I shook my head hard.
I've finished my foster-parent duty.
No more after-sales service.
'Get attached to your new owner! She's way richer!'
And lick their toes clean for me too.
* * *
The following week.
Monday afternoon, in the Introduction to Magic Theory lecture hall.
I stood at the front and stared blankly at Professor Iris beside me.
At first glance she looked composed, but now that I'd become somewhat used to Professor Iris, I could tell.
This woman was watching my every move right now.
Makes sense.
Behind us, at the very back of the tiered classroom, a dozen or so white-haired professors stood like a folding screen, their eyes gleaming.
"..."
How do those wrinkled faces have such clear, crazed eyes?
The unknown pressure radiating from those old professors was weighing down the air in the lecture hall.
I moved my lips and asked Iris in a restrained voice.
"You said there'd be one?"
"I'm sorry."
Iris whispered.
"I thought only Professor Hicks was coming... but I guess not."
Man.
What a darling youngest granddaughter of the Magic Department.
This was practically giving off family-reunion vibes.
Still in the same barely audible volume, I added another scolding.
"Me? Do you know how firmly I shut down the public administration professor and the history professor last week? I told them, 'My mentor has already been decided,' and hammered the nail in nice and deep. Hm? What's the point of only me keeping my promise when you're the weak link, Professor?"
"...I'm truly sorry."
Surprisingly, she really meant it.
Last Thursday and Friday, the two professors who came to class were both subtly drooling over me.
Probably because word had spread that three big shots—Wilhelm, Viscountess Müller, and Iris—were all after me at once.
I worked so hard to brush off those temptations.
'What good is it if only I do well?'
My mentor won't cooperate! What am I supposed to do if I'm the only one keeping my promise?!
Bwaaah!
Then.
One old man among the screen of onlookers—the biggest one, with the longest beard—pulled a thin, long staff from his sleeve.
"That's Professor Hicks."
That old geezer?
He smiled at me kindly.
"Don't feel pressured, student."
"...Yes."
"We've gotten a lot of inspiration from Professor Iris. A genius handpicked by that exacting Professor Iris—how could we not be curious?"
What utter bullshit.
"We came because we wanted to feel the inspiration of genius once more. Just act natural. The professors beside me are merely here to watch, so don't worry."
A spectacle, huh.
Even a zoo monkey would be too self-conscious to peel a banana in front of this many spectators.
Professor Hicks lightly waved the thin staff, which looked like a switch, through the air.
Whoosh!
Then a white piece of chalk, sitting neatly on the lectern, floated up into the air.
And far away at the back of the lecture hall, the chalk, remotely controlled, began writing equations on the blackboard.
Tap, clack, scratch-scratch.
Precise telekinetic control at an enormous distance.
Something like that, I guess?
The students were spellbound.
"That's Professor Hicks's telekinesis..."
"Does distance even matter to him? All the way over there and back here?"
"To connect mana threads to chalk and write with them must be a hundred times harder than threading a needle through its eye...!"
Thanks again today, Speedwagon.
Looks like even city slickers, not just a country bumpkin like me, think that's fucking amazing.
But hard is hard, and my impression was a little different from theirs.
'If you're going to pick something up from that far away, wouldn't it just be better to walk over and grab it?'
Why bother?
Isn't that just a waste of talent?
What a waste of mana.
Of course, on the outside I stood there meekly, pretending to be intimidated.
Thunk.
Once the questions had all been written, Professor Hicks gently set the chalk back on the lectern.
A clean landing without kicking up a speck of dust.
At the sight, the students held their breath.
Everyone's eyes were sparkling.
Maybe that delicate control was what defined the realm of a great mage, or something like that.
'He's really crushing the vibe.'
There's a limit to doting on your daughter or granddaughter.
If this were a formal matchmaking meet-and-greet between a man and a woman instead of a master-disciple initiation ceremony, I'd have flipped the table, thrown up a middle finger, and walked out saying, "Yeah, I'm not taking this woman."
I swallowed a sigh and picked up the chalk.
I looked up at the blackboard.
Intricately tangled magic circles and formulas. A difficult question mixed with ancient language.
Iris next to me muttered softly.
"This is..."
I glanced sideways at her expression, and her brow was furrowed.
But then, that didn't really mean much.
After all, I couldn't infer what it meant.
Whether it was the problem she wrote last week or the one written by the old geezer, Professor Hicks, in front of me, they were all equally incomprehensible to me.
To my eyes, white was just text and green was just the board.
I tightened my grip on the chalk.
[Ability Activated: Fixer]
[Uses remaining today: 2/3]
Wuuung—
With a machine-like ringing in my ears, my vision blurred, and the world's saturation dimmed slightly.
Along with a numbing sensation, a familiar floating feeling wrapped around my body.
My right hand began moving on its own, regardless of my will.
Tick—
The chalk drew a meaningless line across the blackboard.
And stopped.
'Huh?'
I was momentarily flustered.
'What, no way, is that it again?'
This is worse than last time.
Ah, those old geezers are going to flip their shit.
Do I need a second try?
If I use the ability one more time, will it put in a little more effort?
Those complicated thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant.
Suddenly.
My right wrist began thrashing like it was trying to drill straight through the carpal tunnel highway at full speed.
Ratatatatat—!!!
'Huh?!'
My hand started racing across the blackboard so fast it was impossible to see.