Chapter 26
“The student coming today is the daughter of a Korea University professor?”
“He must have written a recommendation letter for his own daughter. She’s moving up to her second year this year.”
“I’ve always thought recommendation letters were being abused for personal purposes, and this is exactly why it’s a problem. It’s not like she’s some distant cousin or anything—if she’s his daughter, isn’t it a little too obvious?”
“Doesn’t that mean he’s that confident in her? Besides, the fact that he wrote a recommendation letter will be recorded in the Archive.”
“In any case, I don’t like the principal who approved this, either. Is this really a recommendation letter?”
“Yes, Inspector. We’ve all looked her over once already, so you can review her before the interview.”
Inspector Kim Si-hyeong slowly skimmed the recommendation letter bearing Professor Cheon Gyu-jin’s seal. That man was famous enough to occasionally appear on the news.
But despite his reputation, the recommendation letter itself contained rather dull and ordinary details, such as how the student had been interested in magic from a young age and studied it independently, and that she had a favorite spell.
It was almost identical to the kinds of things he had read hundreds or thousands of times a day back when he had worked in admissions.
“There’s nothing special about the recommendation letter. We’ll have to focus on verifying the report during the interview.”
Especially since there had recently been cases of parents being caught writing the reports submitted by transfer applicants, he intended to verify everything even more thoroughly.
“I’ll handle that part meticulously, so please don’t worry.”
The professor dispatched from the Sefiron Foundation confidently put the inspector at ease.
“Ah, yes. With Professor Hwang here, what could there be to worry about?”
“Haha. This transfer candidate seems likely to bring either considerable expectations or considerable disappointment.”
Professor Hwang narrowed his eyes and continued reading the report carefully.
His eyes also held a deep distrust.
Modular groups were such a minor topic that even among mathematicians, most people knew nothing about them unless they worked in that particular field, yet this report described a daring method for applying them to magic circles.
Moreover, perfectoid spaces were the essence of modern twenty-first-century mathematics, having emerged about forty years ago, and even Professor Hwang had been looking up relevant papers before coming to the interview.
Even though they were all admissions officers, each had been assigned a different area, so their information about the student was fragmented.
The inspector from the Ministry of Education verified the recommendation letter, while the vice principal and the head of academic affairs checked the documents containing the student’s basic personal information.
And Dr. Hwang Jeong-hun of the Sefiron Foundation was responsible for evaluating the report attached as evidence of the student’s magical accomplishments.
The only information Professor Hwang could learn was the student’s surname, listed as the first author.
‘But why is her surname different from her father’s? It’s No, not Cheon.’
“It’s time. Is the student waiting outside?”
“Yes. Shall we bring her in now?”
“Please do.”
The atmosphere in the interview room at Sefiron Academy was anything but warm and friendly.
In particular, it was not uncommon for children facing an experience like this for the first time to leave without managing to say even a word, overwhelmed by the pressure of four adults.
Of course, the interviewers did not deliberately aim to conduct pressure interviews. That would have gone against the purpose of assessing the student’s abilities.
Creeeak.
The classroom’s front door opened.
Inspector Kim and Professor Hwang, who were learning the student’s identity for the first time, were somewhat surprised by the transfer student’s appearance.
‘A complete baby has come in.’
The student was smaller than even his youngest daughter, who still threw tantrums and bawled at the slightest provocation.
But her steps were confident, and she showed not the slightest sign of shrinking back until she sat in the chair at the center of the classroom.
“Welcome to Sefiron Academy, Student NoName.”
The secret magic placed on the various documents given to the interviewers was dispelled. By far the most striking thing was her name.
“Yes, it’s nice to meet you, too.”
The student, her long jet-black hair neatly tied into low twin tails, stared straight ahead with the demure posture of a doll.
Her eyes were remarkably large compared to her face, and whenever they blinked, they gave her an almost predatory air of intimidation.
“The weather is quite cold today, isn’t it? How did you get here?”
“Professor Cheon Gyu-jin brought me.”
“So your father did?”
“Yes.”
The student neither became flustered nor began speaking any faster at the head of academic affairs’s question.
She did not seem to have been nervous in the first place, but neither did she show any sign of being comforted by his polite greeting.
Her reaction seemed somewhat devoid of emotion.
Everyone privately agreed that Student NoName possessed a rather unusual temperament.
“The interview should take about fifteen to twenty minutes. Shall we begin with a simple verification of her identity, Vice Principal?”
“Let’s do that. Now, Student NoName?”
“...”
The vice principal began reading Name’s personal information from the top, one item at a time.
“You were born on June 11, 2043, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Your mother passed away when you were young, and Professor Cheon Gyu-jin is your adoptive father?”
“Yes.”
“Then how long ago were you adopted? Even an approximate answer will do.”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks? Well, that’s rather hmmmm...”
Despite identity verification being a routine procedure traditionally conducted during interviews, a frigid atmosphere settled over the room.
“Then how long have you known your father?”
“About two months.”
“Excuse me, Head of Academic Affairs? Could you pass me her resident registration certificate?”
“Yes, here it is.”
“Let’s see... You were at Merlin Orphanage before this, from June 2050 to January 2051... Is this an error? Why are there no earlier records?”
“I’m not sure, either...”
The head of academic affairs looked troubled as he reiterated that there was no error in the certificate, but the vice principal could not shake his suspicions.
“It’s because she was a missing person.”
“A missing person?”
“Yes. I’ll refrain from discussing the details because I don’t think they’re relevant to this interview.”
Name answered his question stiffly. It could not even be called a roundabout refusal.
Since her past was completely blank, there was nothing to latch onto or find fault with.
Student NoName’s personal information was utterly unknown, as though she had fallen from the sky or suddenly sprung from the earth.
The vice principal had no choice but to ask a few more questions, but then, without gaining anything useful, he handed the baton to the inspector.
The inspector also tried asking the questions he had prepared in advance, but Name simply answered each one in her usual dry, matter-of-fact manner.
“According to the recommendation letter, Student NoName possesses a veeeery substantial level of magical knowledge and understanding. I’ll ask Professor Hwang to verify that later.”
“Yes, all right.”
“You listed the fifth-circle spell Alchemist as your favorite magic. Is there any particular reason you like it?”
“Because it’s pretty.”
“Because it’s pretty?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, yes, because it’s pretty. Is there no other reason?”
[You’re going to stop being upset now, right, Esha? And Niobe’s death wasn’t your fault. You don’t need to feel guilty toward me.]
[But... Niobe... Niobe was your own little sister. How can you be all right with it?]
“Yes... There’s no other reason.”
“I see. Then, finally, is there any reason Student NoName absolutely must be admitted to Sefiron Academy?”
“A reason? I’ve never thought about it. If anything, you should think about why you’re the ones who have to hold on to me.”
“Hahahaha. Do you think this academy is an orphanage that takes in just anyone? Well, there’s nothing else to ask. Professor Hwang, give that overly confident friend of ours one shot.”
At last, it had come. The other admissions officers were curious what kind of extraordinary report this student had prepared to be so brazen.
“Let’s start by reading the title. ‘Complex-Analytic Forms of Modular Groups and Local Solutions on Perfectoid Curves with n≤3.’ What is a modular group?”
“It is the group of Möbius transformations formed from elements of SL(2,Z) acting on the complex upper half-plane.”
“What does SL(2,Z) mean?”
“It refers to two-by-two matrices with integer entries and determinant one.”
“Oh-ho... Then I’ll ask you a few questions about the body of the report. In the second paragraph, you state that when R is an integral perfectoid ring, the open subschemes of SpfR are perfectoid. Could you explain that?”
“May I use the blackboard?”
“Go ahead.”
The hand that picked up the chalk moved without hesitation, filling the blackboard with equations.
“Good heavens...”
“Do you know what any of that means, Teacher Heo?”
“No... It’s complete alien language to me.”
While the teachers murmured among themselves, Professor Hwang alone rested his chin in his hand and frowned.
“This is something else... I can only describe it as astounding... Then could you name all the runic words you used to make this quasi-homeomorphism work?”
“The three-syllable Arhen, Gernum, and Psyche. The four-syllable Hifrit. And the five-syllable Rahivesche, Luminestin, Estrendal, Creseium, and Dallefrei.”
“Why did you specifically use Hifrit?”
“Even when transforming a circle’s dimensions, a fixed time system must be used as a reference point. Hifrit is a rune suited to the time attribute.”
“According to what you’ve said, under certain circumstances, you can use a local solution to induce a three-dimensional trajectory transformation with first-circle magic. Could you show us an example?”
“You’d like to see a magic demonstration?”
The corners of Name’s mouth lifted.
By coincidence, she spotted an empty PET bottle someone had abandoned beside a window facing the hallway.
She untied the hair tie holding up one side of her hair, looped it around her middle finger, and raised her palm toward the interviewers.
“First-circle advanced casting: Polar-Coordinate Assignment.”
The rubber band shot from her hand in the blink of an eye and reached the inspector’s face while he was momentarily distracted.
“Aaaaaagh!”
But as if disregarding the laws of physics, the hair tie grazed his hair by the narrowest margin before returning to Name.
Name tilted her head to the side at precisely the right moment,
Thwack!
and with a crisp sound, the PET bottle behind her toppled over helplessly.
* * *
Bang!
That went fucking terribly.
[The exit is this way. Thank you for your hard work during the interview?]
They had thrown every kind of prejudice at me before the interview even began, calling me a parachute admission and a fraudulent admit, yet they seemed to think I wouldn’t be able to hear them while I was in the hallway.
In particular, I hadn’t liked the mustached man sitting on the far right; his attitude had put me off from the start.
Ignoring the answers to questions he had asked was the least of it; later, he even brought up my origins to mock me.
I had threatened to give him a taste of his own medicine, and judging by his expression when the interview ended, it had been quite a sight.
On the other hand, the older man on the left, who seemed to be the real power broker, appeared to think well of me, so they didn’t seem able to protest openly.
‘I might fail.’
I didn’t know whether he was a teacher at this school or an outsider, but if he was affiliated with the school, I would have been truly disappointed.
An academy of that caliber probably wouldn’t be worth attending anyway.
While I was wondering what I should tell Professor Cheon, two female students came scampering over and stopped in front of me.
“Hi!”