Contact Reversal: Professors Obsessed with Their Prospective Graduate Student (1)
“I’m not leaving this place for a while.”
“Why?”
Rustila’s expression turned unexpectedly grave. A patriot who had lost her country stood before me. She clasped my hand, stammering.
“B-because the new semester is almost here. Shouldn’t you return to the Academy?”
Why did she look so frightened? It wasn’t as if we would never meet again until death. Thinking it over, I soon understood the reason. It was because of Seti.
I had deliberately withheld the news that Seti had awakened, since Rustila and I were writing a paper together. Rustila liked Seti almost as much as I did; if she learned her friend was awake, she would obviously bolt immediately.
“Let’s check out now, all right? The warden already gave permission.”
Rustila trembled like a child who had done something wrong. She tugged at my sleeve, looking so pitiful—like a puppy watching its master leave—that I nearly nodded.
“My sister woke up.”
I told her the truth.
“What, really…?”
“You look like you don’t believe me.”
“No, I believe you. It’s something you said, Idel.”
I had considered showing her the mail if she doubted me, but it seemed unnecessary. At least we had avoided the worst-case scenario where my sister’s ugly side would be exposed. I was a good brother.
As expected, Rustila looked ready to burst through the door. Her entire body radiated the desire to rush straight to the Southern Holy Sanctuary where Seti was. This was performance art in motion.
Then—
“Ah.”
Rustila, who had been about to leave, set her bag back down.
“Why?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Why are you unpacking again? You looked ready to bolt a second ago.”
Rustila sat back down on the cot. Thump. She lay on her side and glanced at me. A profound light shone in her deep blue eyes.
“I was thinking it might be better to stay here after all.”
She chuckled and twirled a lock of hair.
“If you’re not going, then I’m staying too.”
“……”
“You’ll need my help for the next paper anyway, right?”
Rustila pulled something from her waist. A note.
“Remember the bet you and Verdia made with me at the very beginning?”
“A bet?”
“You said if you finished the paper within three months, you’d grant me one wish.”
“I did say that.”
I tried to recall what I had written back then. Rustila unfolded the note and showed it to me.
[Receive Rustila’s assistance on the next paper as well]
“You little rascal.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile.
“Anyway, I’m staying here until the break ends. I already got permission from my mother.”
It was essentially a cohabitation declaration. Cohabiting inside a prison. With Verdia around, nothing serious would happen, and I wasn’t completely devoid of reason either, so nothing major should occur.
“Your parents gave their permission?”
“Yes.”
A chill ran down my spine. What wind could possibly have blown through the notoriously rigid parents of Rustila to make them agree to this?
The contemplation did not last long. It was never the kind of problem that could be solved by thinking anyway. At least we were walking a path completely different from the original novel. That was a positive sign. It meant a future without ruin awaited us.
“Ahem.”
Sonia, who had been standing nearby, cleared her throat and joined the conversation.
“By the way, young lady, what exactly did you write on your note?”
“Ah. You mean mine?”
She gave a small laugh.
“It’s a secret.”
“……”
“It’s already in the past anyway. We can just treat it as if it never happened.”
“Sonia, it’s rude to ask a lady such a thing.”
“Then please be quiet, young master.”
Anyway, seeing Rustila grinning from ear to ear, I could tell our relationship had grown closer. If things continued like this, she would surely become the youngest Great Omega-class swordsman. While researching with me, she seemed to have realized a more refined way to handle Ether. A good omen.
“Well then, shall we go eat lunch?”
“We’re allowed to eat out?”
“We can come and go freely. We’re not prisoners, after all.”
“Now that you mention it, you’re right.”
When was the last time I had gone outside? It was already fading from memory.
“Come on, I know a good restaurant.”
Rustila took my hand and began leading the way. Verdia wore a dazed expression, while Sonia followed silently behind us as always.
To leave the facility, we had to pass through the central hall where the inmates were kept. The same crucible of madness awaited us.
Clang!
A cell door rattled violently nearby. Rustila and I turned our heads reflexively.
Inmate No. 888887
Black hair, black eyes. An utterly ordinary-looking girl gripped the bars, her shoulders trembling violently.
“Y-you… why are you here…?”
I took out my notebook and jotted down the inmate’s number and the type of madness. Her stutter seemed worse than before.
“…Why on earth are you here—no, more importantly, this… if this happens, ah, this won’t do…”
Rustila whispered worriedly.
“…Idel, do you know her?”
“No. Do you?”
“First time I’ve seen her too.”
Then there was only one possibility. Her madness had flared up again. The more I looked, the more unpleasant the phenomenon became. I needed to continue my research as soon as possible.
Even while eating with Rustila and taking a walk, I kept thinking.
Let’s see. What would be a good topic for the next research? It was about time to begin the first stage of the development plan Cartesia had given me, but the problem was that this project required far more research funding than I had imagined…
“Aah!”
Startled, I turned to see Rustila had fallen.
“Ow ow ow…”
“Are you all right?”
“I-I think I twisted my ankle.”
Rustila’s shoulders creaked like a broken wooden doll. She looked less like a swordmaster and more like a fragile girl. I sighed lightly and held out my hand.
“I’ll help you up.”
“Don’t just help me—carry me on your back.”
“Does it hurt that much?”
“Yeah.”
At that moment, Sonia intervened.
“Miss Rustila, Sonia or Verdia can carry you.”
“No. You don’t have to…”
“Robotics Principle: ‘Assist anyone nearby who is injured.’ It is only natural for androids to serve humans. Now, miss, please climb onto my back without hesitation.”
“Huh. Now that I think about it, I think I can walk after all.”
“Oh my. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”
Rustila staggered, then soon returned to walking normally. Come to think of it, simple injuries healed quickly when one received the blessing of the stars.
[“You know nothing of a woman’s heart. That’s why you could never win against me… Kyaaaaak!”]
[— The Outer God ‘Orchestra of Mud and Flesh’ has paid 500 Fron in regular tribute.]
Anyway, now that I had decided on the topic for my third paper, it was time to leave this prison. Still, I wanted to be fully prepared. Because—
[— ‘Steel That Flows Like the Earth’ harbors inexplicable hostility toward you.]
[— ‘King of the Elegant Finale’ eagerly awaits your departure from Alcatraz.]
[— ‘Sky of Comfort’ wishes to carve out your brain.]
[— ‘Rippling Rage’ longs for the day it can burn you to death.]
[— ‘The End’ will continue to monitor your presence at all times.]
Every single Named entity had noticed me.
***
Even among Outer Gods, there were ranks. Just as Cartesia had subdued Popurus, any of the Outer Gods mentioned above could easily defeat her. What if I lost Cartesia? The mere thought was horrifying.
[“Oh?”]
[— The ‘God of Wisdom and Curiosity’ purses her lips in surprise.]
Losing a calculator—the essential tool of every science student—would obviously slow my research to a crawl.
[— The ‘God of Wisdom and Curiosity’ frowns.]
[“I was a fool to expect anything.”]
Therefore, two additional conditions were required to leave Alcatraz Prison.
[“What are they?”]
First. Complete safety for myself and those around me must be secured.
Second. I must obtain qualifications to enter graduate school immediately.
[“The first one I can manage somehow. This is my domain, after all. But the second…”]
That was right. It was greed. Originally, my goal had been to enter the college program, but after writing two papers, even the time spent living there felt wasteful.
[■ Graduate School Admission Inquiry]
[Recipient: Stellarium Academy Graduate Admissions Office]
[I would like to know whether it is possible to transfer directly into the graduate program after graduating from Academia without going through the college course.]
Just as a brave man wins the beauty, a brave student obtains a degree. I sent the carefully written email, hoping against hope.
And the result was—
[(Reply) Hello, this is the Stellarium Graduate Admissions Office. To apply for the graduate program, a college-level degree or legally equivalent academic credentials are required.]
“Tsk.”
As expected, there was no path other than the standard route.
[“It would be better to enter through the proper college route, young master.”]
Even Cartesia let out a sigh. But I could not give up. What was a doctoral degree? It was a degree given to those who could solve problems.
Think, Idel. I had to flip the horizon of the problem entirely.
“Oh.”
A good idea came to me. If I could not enter graduate school myself, then I simply had to make others put me there.
***
One month and fifteen days after Idel published his second paper.
Professor Josef Renkel, who had successfully reclaimed the southeastern belt for the first time, received words of praise. Soon after, the highest engineering award, the ‘Lallos Prize,’ was bestowed upon him.
At the award ceremony, Professor Renkel clinked glasses with Professor Feynman.
Clink!
The two men who had drunk wine gazed at each other deeply.
“I don’t know how long it’s been since I last saw you, Professor.”
“Is this really the time for such talk? I received an award, yet you haven’t even been nominated for the Achea Prize?”
“The Achea Prize? What’s that?”
“Don’t make pointless jokes at a place like this.”
Feynman laughed heartily and stuffed a cookie into his mouth.
“My apologies. Still, I dislike becoming famous.”
“You’re already famous.”
“I won’t deny it.”
Feynman rubbed his eyes tiredly.
Professor Renkel thought, ‘In truth, it isn’t that Professor Feynman couldn’t receive the prize. If an award were to be given, it should go jointly to the first author, young Rheinland, and his team to avoid controversy. The problem is that young Rheinland is still an Academia student.’
The Achea Prize could only be awarded to scholars in the basic sciences. Its conditions were as follows:
- Must possess at least a college-level degree.
Originally, the Achea Prize had been established to provide scholarships for pure science students. Because of this, there was an old tradition that half of the prize money had to be donated to the recipient’s college or graduate institution. But what about the Academia program? It was simply high school. There was no distinction of majors. Therefore, anyone who had only graduated from Academia could never receive the prize, no matter how excellent their research results.
‘What a pointless restriction.’
The entire committee was now watching the movements of Rheinland—no, a mere high school student.
‘It’s stranger that someone with such achievements hasn’t even entered college yet.’
Buzz.
“A mail?”
“Yes, just a moment.”
Professor Feynman’s eyebrows twitched as he checked his tablet.
“This is…”
[The warden of Alcatraz Prison has informed me that it is still too early to release me. It seems I will have difficulty returning to Academia this year.]
“Th-this can’t be.”
Feynman’s complexion turned pale. Professor Renkel approached him with a worried look.
“What is it? Th-this can’t be.”
And then he learned. A great calamity had befallen the student he was supposed to be guiding.
“Isn’t that Professor Feynman? It’s been a while. What are you looking at… Th-this can’t be.”
“What is it? Why is everyone gathering here… Th-this can’t be.”
“Professor Renkel, I wanted to see you. Professor Feynman is here too. What’s the matter… Th-this can’t be.”
Before long, a crowd of countless professors had surrounded Feynman. Forgetting that his mail was now public, Feynman scrolled rapidly. The key point visible in the carefully written message was:
[It seems entering graduate school will be impossible after all. I’m sorry.]
[Idel von Rheinland]
Because his prison sentence had been extended, he might never return.
“Th-this can’t be.”
This was absurd.
“My… graduate student.”
Someone muttered.
“…This doesn’t seem like the time to just stand around.”
“He must be detained on some trivial pretext.”
“If he were really held by an Outer God, he couldn’t have written those papers.”
“Professor Roden is right. Leaving that student there is a loss to the entire universe!”
“Besides, we’ve already learned how to repair the Ether Belt, haven’t we?”
Thus, the professors’ dazed eyes changed in an instant.
“For the honor of the academic world…”
“…Let’s bring him back. With our own hands.”
The curtain rose on the rescue operation for Idel von Rheinland, the rising star of the physics world.