Chapter 46
[First, finish sixth period and come back. Teacher, you come with the child after dismissal.]
[Yes, I'm terribly sorry...]
Seo Yuna was told to rest in the infirmary and then leave school on her own.
The reason I was suddenly summoned to the Administration Office was none other than my unauthorized use of magic.
The academy grounds had been designated by the state as a special tax-withholding district, with all mana-use fees within the area paid under the academy's name.
This was also a provision reflecting the academy's unique, partial extraterritoriality.
Of course, in most cases, the academy actually paid the fees, not merely in name.
They couldn't very well make elementary school students pay every time they had a practical lesson.
Certain academy foundations prepared an available budget in advance, paid it up front, and received a refund for the unused portion at the end of the year; the Sefiron Foundation was the most prominent example.
In other words, whenever I recklessly used magic as though mana were water, it wasn't me clutching the back of my neck—it was the foundation's budget officer.
If anything, I suppose that was fortunate.
I remembered how, the one time I'd used a fourth-circle spell, even mobilizing all the money I had left me 120,000 won short, so I'd shamelessly borrowed the difference from Professor Cheon.
Thanks to that, I'm flat broke now.
“You really didn't do anything strange to Seo Yuna, did you?”
Why are you acting like this again?
Yoon Sihoo shot me a suspicious look.
“I told you, that's the medicine I take. She drank it on her own.”
“You can't bring something that dangerous into the academy!”
“Stop annoying me, you brat. I'll bury you alive.”
No matter how many times I explained it, Sihoo refused to believe me.
Think whatever you want.
At last, the long-awaited end of the school day arrived.
I had no choice but to send Jihye and Seori, who had been waiting for me, home disappointed.
I'd promised to buy Pokémon bread, so I apologized to Jihye.
“No, it's okay...! Name must be busy today, too.”
Teacher Jackie and I descended the stairs without saying a word.
Every so often, she muttered something to herself in English, but her strong regional accent made it difficult to understand.
The only thing I could decipher from this Korean-American teacher was, at most, “Oh my gosh.”
Was she foreseeing the future that lay ahead?
In fact, even when I was summoned earlier, the atmosphere had been ominous.
So now we had to investigate the truth behind today's incident and question me about my unauthorized use of magic.
It was a task the two of us had to get through together.
Teacher Jackie took a deep breath.
Jacqueline Carroll, the young teacher who looked no older than her late twenties. In fact, she really was around that age.
But according to the children, she was renowned as a highly capable person, well respected even by the Sefiron Foundation.
An elite among elites: she had graduated early from Sefiron Academy at seventeen, graduated from university at twenty, returned to her hometown in the United States, and earned a doctorate in education at twenty-six.
She had first been appointed last year, taking charge of fourth-grade Class C, and in her second year had been formally appointed homeroom teacher of Class A—a sign of how much the foundation trusted her.
Jacqueline had expected to spend a peaceful year, but from the very first week of the new term, one of her students caused a massive incident, leaving her racking her brains over how to overcome this predicament.
“Didn't I tell you that magic isn't allowed at the academy without permission?”
“You told us on the first day.”
“Then why did you use it?”
“Because I was helping a friend.”
“Yes, yes. I hope you emphasize that point to the director we're about to meet, too.”
“Weren't we going to see that administrative officer from earlier?”
Teacher Jackie knocked on the room beside where I'd stopped.
“It's the Director of Planning and Coordination.”
“Usually, when something like this happens, you meet with the grade head or the vice principal.”
“So this has happened before? Still, this is an academy. You'll have to get used to it.”
Knock knock
[Yes, come in.]
I opened the door gently, and a secretary greeted us.
The room had a two-layered layout.
To reach the interview room, we had to open another door after turning around an L-shaped bend.
In the cold, frozen air, Teacher Jackie gave me one more warning.
“Name.”
“Yes, teacher.”
“No matter what they say in there, just get used to it.”
Why was she making it sound so frightening?
The secretary opened the door for us herself. How kind of her.
“Director Kim, I've brought Teacher Carroll from Class 2-A.”
“Ah, you've arrived. You must be tired after coming all this way.”
“It wasn't particularly far.”
“Would you like some coffee? Or tea? There are plenty of tangerines on the table, too, so help yourself.”
“Just a glass of water, please. I'm thirsty. What would you like, Name?”
“Water for me, too.”
At Teacher Jackie's polite refusal, Director Kim (judging by his nameplate, his real name was Kim Yongseong) sat down on the sofa opposite us with a genial smile.
His immaculate suit was enough to give him the air of a typical salaryman.
Was Teacher Jackie nervous, too?
The hand holding her glass of water was trembling slightly.
“I imagine you both know very well why I've asked you here today. If not, I'd be terribly disappointed.”
“Yes, we're well aware.”
“It's nice to meet you, too, student.”
“Yeah, well.”
Director Kim took a file out of his bag and handed it to the teacher.
He seemed intent on getting straight to the point.
“This is the data collected by the academy's portable mana meter. Can you see the result at the very bottom? 24,627kE.”
“Yes, I can see it clearly.”
“You'd better be able to.”
The teacher abruptly closed her eyes for a moment.
Director Kim drew a deep breath.
“That's at least two thousand dollars—two thousand dollars! What on earth did you do to use this much mana, you?! Are you insane?!”
That was quite a booming scolding.
“24,627? You must have used a fourth-circle spell, huh? Oh, what's this? Looking at the mana graph, there are two peaks. Are you a camel? One time wasn't enough for you?”
“Director Kim.”
“You're not even a student—you're a teacher! Do you think you can just recklessly use intermediate magic?!”
“Director Kim, we're in front of a student, so at least calm down a little.”
“Whew... You'd better explain yourself properly, Teacher Carroll.”
“One of the students in our class fell ill today.”
Teacher Jackie listed the events of that afternoon and explained them to him.
The student had mistakenly taken the medicine and suffered seizure-like symptoms, leaving her no choice but to use magic in the emergency.
It sounded like it contained some pretty severe exaggeration and leaps in logic, but Teacher Jackie added flesh to the bones of the story, making the situation seem genuinely urgent.
“But was there really any reason to use a fourth-circle spell?”
“It seems the Administration Office gave you the wrong information. You're misunderstanding something right now. Name.”
The teacher gave me a signal.
We hadn't rehearsed this beforehand, but I could roughly tell what she intended.
“I cast that spell.”
“What...?”
“A third-circle local-anesthesia spell over twenty square centimeters, and a fourth-circle irreversible reduction spell.”
“There has to be a limit to making fun of people...!”
“Would you like me to demonstrate it here?”
Since I wasn't going to infuse it with mana anyway, I didn't need a casting medium, either.
I breathed onto the polished glass of the desk, fogging it up.
Like a child playing on a frosted windowpane, I began to draw—but what I drew was far beyond a mere doodle.
“Whoa...”
Teacher Jackie let out a small gasp of admiration.
This was a spell worth two thousand dollars—in other words, four million won?
If the academy was going to pay for it, I could put on this little performance a few more times.
Director Kim Yongseong, on the other hand, frowned as if something about it displeased him.
Why were there so many people these days who gave others such an unpleasant look?
In that case, I had a method of my own.
“You don't seem to believe me, so shall I demonstrate it one more time right here?”
The reason glass was unsuitable for use as a casting medium was that one had to account for the image reflected on the glass when recording the reflection formulas.
Humans drew magic circles within the visible-light spectrum, so when light struck a smooth surface like glass, specular reflection occurred.
That caused the magic circle's activation sequence to become tangled. That was why people used slate with a high diffuse-reflection rate or a simple casting-circle writer.
It had a major flaw, but it wasn't impossible.
[4th-Circle Reverse Casting: Irre...]
After modifying the formulas and injecting all the mana, Director Kim belatedly realized what I was doing and grabbed my wrist.
“What did you say the student's name was?”
Of course he had to stop me.
If he didn't want to waste another four million won.
* * *
“It's been a long time since such an outstanding talent entered the academy. Ho ho!”
“Right? Haha... ha...”
Even after seeing it with his own eyes, Director Kim couldn't believe it.
A mere second-grader using a fourth-circle spell—and not just a same-image manifestation, but a different-image manifestation beyond it!
How had a talent like this only just come to light?
They could easily have appeared on a program like *The Genius Discovery Team*.
Then again, Dr. Hwang Jeonghun, who had overseen the transfer exam, wasn't someone who would lavish praise on a person without grounds. But wasn't this beyond anything he could have imagined?
‘They're beyond the category of a mere student.’
‘Their understanding of “forms,” the spatial perception to manifest them, an extremely advanced mathematical ability that let them calculate dozens of formulas mentally, and the memory and observational skills to arrange runes without hesitation...’
They seemed like someone born to use magic.
Historically, most prodigies shone brilliantly only in childhood before disappearing into the shadows of history.
And those who pushed for progress on the cutting edge of modern magic were always creative, late-blooming ordinary talents.
But wouldn't a genius who transcended all levels be different?
If they continued to grow like this, Korea might finally produce a world-class theoretical mage.
“Student, what kind of medicine did your friend take that you had to use an anesthesia spell?”
“They accidentally drank my potion.”
“Potion...? You mean the kind battlefield mages drink?”
“You sound exactly like Professor Cheon. Yes, that's right.”
“Ah...”
At the shocking news, Director Kim Yongseong covered his mouth with his hand.
Teacher Carroll tilted her head at Director Kim's reaction.
‘That idiot...! How can she be a homeroom teacher and not even know what it means for someone to drink a potion?’
God was cruelly fair.
The beloved national singer LK had recently confessed on the news to having had a difficult childhood,
and idol Chena, who had enjoyed a meteoric rise in popularity for her looks as Korea's once-in-a-millennium idol, had committed suicide after failing to overcome depression.
Cases like these were common enough even in Kim Yongseong's immediate surroundings.
Kim Yongseong's own lifelong object of envy, the proverbial “mom's-friend's kid,” and his longtime rival, Cheon Byeongho, had seemed destined for a smooth life too, but hadn't he become a broken man after losing his fiancée at the end of the war?
This wasn't a battlefield mage who had tubes of morphine stuck into him one after another; for a child that age to be taking potions could mean only one thing.
An incurable disease.
And a terminal diagnosis.
With a troubled expression, Director Kim stood up.
[Teacher Jacqueline Carroll...? As for today's incident, I will handle it myself without assigning the student any additional payment responsibility. I'll be going first, so you may leave once you've finished sorting things out.]
Money matters were an adult concern, so there was no reason to discuss them in front of the student.
He whispered to Name's homeroom teacher, conveying that he would hold the student entirely free of responsibility.
“Student NoName, you too... Keep working hard at school.”
A life with talent and dreams but no hope or future—how heartbreaking.
Director Kim couldn't shake the uneasy feeling.
He thought that supporting the child in every way he could, at least for as long as they attended the academy, was the least an adult could do.
“A terminal diagnosis... How tragic.”
He continued muttering to himself as he left the interview room.
“Terminal...?”