Chapter 45: How Much! How Much Do You Want! (3)
Chapter 45: How Much! How Much Do You Want! (3)
A drab, grey building.
Even in broad daylight, it exuded a strangely murky atmosphere that was unsettling to the core.
As a workshop intended to draw people in, promote itself, and secure sponsorship, its exterior was a total failure. However…
‘Fay Yarnshard’s Workshop’
A half-rusted nameplate confirmed that this was indeed the destination.
“Master? Are you sure this is the right place? I know this is District 4, but this feels like a slum right in the middle of the Academy.”
“There are circumstances. She wasn’t just pushed out; she was practically exiled…”
“It even smells all funky.”
“That’s the smell of every alchemy workshop. Usually, they install magical tools to remove the odor so you don’t have to smell it.”
“Um… Master. It’s not that I’m questioning your decision or anything… but is this place really okay? I don’t know what you’re planning to commission, but does it have to be here?”
“Hey, now. Don’t worry. It’s perfectly fine. Besides, we’re not here to commission something; we’re here to provide sponsorship.”
Carla nodded as if she finally understood.
“Aha. So we’re here to receive sponsorship. Wait, didn’t you say the Church of Righteous Light would be the ones supporting us? Oh, is there a priest volunteering here or something?”
It seemed she had misunderstood slightly.
I stared into Carla’s eyes, which were spinning as she tried to escape reality, then reached out and pinched both her cheeks, pulling them wide.
“Hwaaaang!”
While Carla flailed her arms helplessly, I continued speaking as I toyed with her cheeks.
“I said we’re here to give sponsorship, not receive it. I’m going to support the owner of this place with my own money and sign an exclusive contract.”
“Wh-why are you throwing your money away?! If an Academy student, especially one from Class A, is stuck in a corner like this, there’s usually a serious problem! She might be skilled, but she could be a total disaster in every other way!”
“Well, you’re not wrong.”
Fay’s situation was that dire. If left alone, she would eventually be driven to suicide.
“But money can solve all of those problems.”
With better materials and the ability to conduct whatever research she wants with special ingredients, Fay is the type to overcome every obstacle through sheer results.
However, since I couldn't tell Carla that I knew the future, I could only explain the reason Fay had ended up like this.
“Don’t be so harsh. It’s because she was bullied.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s not her own fault. She was driven to this point because the people around her ostracized her.”
“…The Academy wouldn’t have tolerated that.”
“Usually, yeah. But it was kept just at the level where it didn't technically break school rules.”
Things like refusing to play with her or intentionally treating her like she didn't exist. It wasn't the kind of bullying where they’d drag her somewhere dark and beat her up.
Carla tilted her head repeatedly, still looking unconvinced.
Honestly, it was getting a bit tedious to explain, so I just gave her curvy backside a firm squeeze.
Squeeze.
“Hieek!”
“Anyway, you get that it’s not her fault now, right? Let’s go in.”
“Ye-yes… Um… Master? Even if there’s no one around, doing this outside is a bit…”
“So, are you saying I’m touching something I shouldn’t be?!”
When I used our master-servant relationship to press her, Carla hurriedly shook her head.
“N-no! It’s not like that! If Master wants to touch, you should touch whenever and wherever you want!”
“Is that so?”
“Yes! I wasn’t trying to defy you just now, I was just worried! I am your faithful slave, after all!”
As if foreshadowing what she was about to say, Carla raised both hands and curled them cutely near her chest.
Just as she was about to utter the final word while mimicking a puppy—
Creeeeak!
“A-a customer? You’re a customer, right…? P-please come i……n?”
Perhaps she had sensed someone outside. The tightly closed door swung open, and the workshop owner froze at the sight of us.
A beautiful attendant in a puppy pose, and me, kneading that attendant’s butt like dough.
And in the midst of it all, Carla’s final line delivered with unwavering commitment.
“Woof!”
The workshop owner… Fay’s face contorted strangely.
Hey, now. Don’t look at us like that. It’s not like we got caught doing outdoor play.
*
“C-come in. The floor is a bit messy, so watch your step… Ah, is informal speech uncomfortable for you…? I’m your senior, but only by a year, so if you don’t like it, I’ll stop… okay?”
“It’s fine. Please speak comfortably, Senior.”
“Hehe… Senior… He called me Senior….”
After clearing up the slight misunderstanding caused by the bad timing, Fay led Carla and me into the workshop while letting out a strangely unsettling giggle.
It wasn't that she was being sarcastic or anything. Fay’s laugh was just inherently peculiar.
Actually, what concerned me more than the laugh was the "bit messy" floor she mentioned.
Piles of junk, lumps of metal of unknown origin, and even potions glowing in dangerously vibrant colors.
"A bit messy" my ass. There was barely any room to step.
Carla and I tiptoed carefully until we reached the center of the workshop.
I suppose it qualified as a living space. The surroundings were still filthy, but the empty space in the center was generous.
Dim lighting. Mysterious objects scattered everywhere. And a cauldron bubbling away in the back, emitting a foul stench.
Rather than an alchemist’s workshop, it looked more like a witch’s hut from a fairy tale…
Fay, seemingly used to it, kicked some nearby objects aside and sat down in front of us.
Now that the initial chaos had settled, I could finally take a calm look at Fay.
Even considering she was sitting, she was incredibly short. Yet, she possessed a chest that was disproportionately large for her height.
Her hair wasn't greasy, but it was poorly maintained, trailing down to her hips like a frizzy mess of dog fur.
Her eyes, which had been darting around since earlier, unable to meet mine, made me feel dizzy just looking at them through the thick glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
Yes.
This was exactly how Fay Yarnshard was.
I remembered her vividly in my head, but seeing her in the flesh felt strangely nostalgic.
A half-dwarf born among dwarves, who lived lives either crushing enemies' skulls with hammers or pounding iron.
Her short stature, barely reaching my solar plexus, was from her dwarven blood, but those breasts, which looked even larger than Carla’s, must have been an expression of her human lineage.
Usually, dwarves were as flat as a cliff.
I recalled her story—how she had been an outcast among dwarves since childhood because she was a half-breed and because she chose the path of an alchemist instead of a warrior or a blacksmith.
She wasn't even trying to make normal things like potions or special materials.
Fay wanted to create armaments through alchemy.
Just as molten iron is poured into a mold to cast a desired shape, she wanted to cast everything using alchemy.
If she had made alchemical steel or metal solvents, the dwarves might have actually welcomed her.
But the idea of creating finished armaments was enough to be considered heresy among dwarves who sanctified the act of hammering.
Because of that, she had been ostracized since she was a child.
Of course, it wasn't that the dwarves abused her. They provided her with the basics.
They just treated her like she didn't exist.
That alone seemed to have been enough for Fay to grow into the gloomy personality she had now.
Regardless, Fay delved even deeper into alchemy. She believed that if she could somehow produce results, they would eventually acknowledge her.
She managed to struggle her way into the Academy… but she hit a wall here.
The path Fay wanted to take was entirely new, and pioneering it required countless trials and errors, and those trials and errors cost money.
However, Fay couldn't receive any support from her family. Even when she tried to get sponsorship, it had been so long since she’d talked to anyone that she couldn't even speak properly.
Furthermore, her alchemical results, which hadn't yet reached their full potential, were mediocre at best, and in Production Department Class A, which had a high ratio of dwarves, she was ostracized just as she had been back home.
As the state of the workshop suggested, Fay had even refused the attendant provided by the Academy, which was a sort of final struggle.
To devote herself to alchemy one last time by grinding her very soul into it, she had cleared away everything that could be even a slight distraction.
She probably lived in the workshop, leaving her dormitory abandoned.
But even so, Fay couldn't find a proper lead for her research.
Realizing that she would only slowly wither away at this rate, Fay would eventually take her own life out of despair… but that won't happen now.
Because I’m here.
Perhaps because I had been staring at Fay in silence for a while, lost in thought.
Fay, seemingly taking my silence as a prompt, hesitated before finally forcing herself to speak.
“N-nice to meet you. I’m Fay… Fay Yarnshard. Wh-what is your name, Junior…?”
Her gaze darted busily left and right, never meeting mine. Her fingers fidgeted incessantly.
She was so nervous just giving a simple greeting.
I chuckled and gave the guaranteed gacha… no, I gave Fay a light nod.
“I’m Yandel. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senior.”
“Y-yes!”
Fay hurriedly bowed her head in return. However, she did it with such vigor that her head dipped low…
Surprisingly, with just that small movement, Fay’s heavy breasts pressed down against her own knees.
Squish.
Her breasts distorted and spilled out in every direction.
Even though she was wearing a school uniform and likely had a baggy robe over it, they moved that much.
As I stared blankly in spite of myself, Fay eventually lifted her head and our eyes met.
“Ah, ugh….”
Fay hurriedly straightened her upper body and clutched her collar tight.
But did she know? Her breasts were swaying wildly as she jerked upward.
Incredible.
The moving reality was even more impressive than my imagination or a static illustration.
But I couldn't just keep staring at her chest forever. It would be rude.
I cleared my throat, pretending nothing happened, and got straight to the point.
“Ahem. You’re probably wondering why I came to see you, Senior, on the very first day of classes. It’s not like this place is easy to find by accident.”
“Huh? Oh! Right. A-are you here to… commission something? I know how to make most things. Potions, materials, catalysts, bombs… j-just say the word!”
Fay patted her chest in what she probably thought was a reassuring gesture.
Each time she did, waves far more violent than before erupted… but she seemed unaware of it as she just watched my reaction.
I calmly shook my head at her.
“No. I didn't come here today for a simple commission.”
“…Huh? Then.”
“Yes. I’m interested in the alchemical casting you’re aiming for.”
“R-really?”
“Really. Why would I lie?”
“Wow…! Th-then do you want to hear about it? The principle is…”
Fay’s face brightened instantly.
She still couldn't meet my eyes properly, but she kept glancing at me and started rambling about things I hadn't even asked.
To think she’d react like this before I even mentioned sponsorship.
Just how starved for attention was she…?
I waited a moment for Fay’s reaction, which felt almost pitiful, to calm down before continuing.
“That’s interesting. I see potential in your research, Senior.”
“I-is that so? Ehehe… that’s the first time I’ve heard that….”
I bet. To be honest, she was so excited and talking so fast that I didn't understand a single word.
It wasn't just because my knowledge of alchemy was lacking; seeing Carla tilting her head beside me, it was clear that Fay was just rambling incoherently.
Of course, I had to pretend I understood for now.
“So, I was thinking of sponsoring you, Senior.”
“Sp-sponsorship…!”
“The amount is 300 gold a month. If that’s not enough, I can provide more if there’s a valid reason.”
“300 gold every month?! And more than that?!”
Was the amount too unrealistic? Fay, who had suddenly calmed down, looked at me with suspicious eyes.
Well, it was suspicious.
Usually, sponsorship meant a few dozen gold a month and some additional support.
In times like this, showing is better than explaining.
I abruptly pulled 300 gold out of my inventory.
Clatter—
A golden wave spilled onto the floor.
“Gasp…!”
I added a supplementary explanation to Fay, who was staring at the gold with a sharp intake of breath.
“Unlike other sponsors, I can’t help you buy materials cheaply or lend you alchemy grimoires for free. All I have is money. …But this should be enough, right?”
“…Yes! Yes! It’s plenty! With this, I can buy the new-style alchemy furnace I’ve been eyeing, a mana refining kit, and even all sorts of rare minerals! A-are you really sponsoring me? This much money?”
“Of course. But there’s a condition.”
“A condition…?”
Fay watched me anxiously at the mention of a condition.
I shrugged as if it were no big deal.
“Become my exclusive alchemist. And if there’s something I want, you have to prioritize it.”
“…Exclusive?”
Even for someone desperate for money, the word "exclusive" must have required caution.
For the first time, Fay stared directly at me without avoiding my gaze.
Then, she turned her head toward Carla beside me and suddenly flinched.
“S-so… you mean I have to do whatever you want…?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. I won’t ask for anything too extreme.”
I had no intention of asking for something impossible, like making a Philosopher’s Stone in three days.
Of course, it might become possible someday, but not right now.
Fay bowed her head as if in deep thought, appearing to stare at her own chest.
In that state, she kept glancing toward me, then finally squeezed her eyes shut as if she had made a decision.
“S-sorry! Let’s pretend I didn't hear that! I… I think this is a bit much…!”
What?
Why was I rejected?