The Long Vacation (1)
Students and school. Between the two, which side waits more desperately for the vacation period?
Most young students would answer that it’s them. School, teachers—they should just leave us alone during break, but instead they torment us with vacation assignments or supplementary classes. The kids figure that since the adults work so hard to steal even a little of their free time, they probably don’t like vacation much either.
But once their heads grow a little bigger and they begin to understand how society actually works, they realize how big a misconception that is.
Whether you call them teachers or professors, at the root they’re still employees. Aside from the tiny minority who truly teach out of personal mission or fulfillment, they’re working for money just like everyone else. There isn’t a single office worker who hates true time off—the kind that isn’t just labeled “holiday” while secretly being the kind of “it’s not mandatory, but if you don’t show up everyone gets inconvenienced and there’s no overtime pay anyway.”
From a professor’s perspective, there’s no reason to dread a legally sanctioned break. Even setting aside the vacation aspect, break periods are necessary. They allow time to handle the mountain of administrative work that piles up during the school year, to carry out construction that can’t be done while students are living on campus, and to prepare for the new intake of freshmen.
And in the case of the Barhart Empire Academy, with its endless practical training courses, eccentric members, and even bizarre elements like the Special Request Division, the single vacation period of less than two months per year is actually on the short side.
Whether it was because they already had mountains of their own work or simply because the concept didn’t exist here, there were no such things as vacation assignments. Thanks to that, I could use the entire break period for my own plans. Truly a wonderful thing.
“Now that I think about it, what are you planning to do during vacation, Mr. Chrome?”
At Loto’s question, I answered.
“First, I have to head down south.”
“Ah, of course. I was thinking of going back to my hometown for the first time in a while and getting some rest too.”
“I’ll stop by where Theo is to hand over some business items, then drop by the workshop because Ligret said there’s a problem with her weapon production process. After that I’ll clear a few dungeons to restock the Cube’s inventory, enter the martial tournament to snatch some prizes, and take care of a bunch of other miscellaneous stuff while I’m at it.”
“…….”
Loto’s face turned deathly pale as he slowly began inching backward. What’s with him? Is he feeling sick?
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“Huh? N-no! I’m perfectly fine! No problems at all!”
“That’s good to hear. Actually, I had just the right job for you.”
“……Pardon?”
I handed Loto a single sheet of paper.
“The Dolf Trading Company is looking for someone to handle odd jobs. Go if you’re interested.”
“Ah, yes.”
Loto grabbed the paper with an expression that clearly said ‘I have no intention of going, but since you’re giving it to me I should at least accept it out of politeness.’ But the moment he saw the amount written in the salary column, his face changed completely.
“I-is this real? The number is incredible…”
“Well, I’m glad you like it. It’ll only be about two weeks at most, so it should be a nice chunk of money before you head home.”
“Thank you!”
Once Loto left, Pino—who had been listening nearby—asked a question.
“It’s just odd jobs, right? He doesn’t have any real experience, and after two weeks you’ll probably pull him out once he’s trained enough to be useful. Won’t you lose money paying him that much?”
“Why, you want to try it yourself?”
“I was just curious. If you’re doing your friend a favor, I’d understand, but…”
Hahaha.
“Do you know what the number one thing to avoid in a job advertisement is?”
“Suspiciously good treatment and high wages?”
“No. Vague job descriptions.”
“…….”
Odd jobs. What a wonderful phrase.
“Loto isn’t exactly the type to throw himself into self-improvement, and he’s not in the Special Request Division either, but he still follows classes well enough. In other words, he’s average as a mana user. If he can use Lower Grade Mana Arrow and Lower Grade Mana Shield decently, handling the various accidents that can happen during normal work should be a piece of cake.”
The amount listed in the contract was an outrageous sum for a regular laborer, but it was cheap compared to the cost of hiring a mana user as a bodyguard.
“If nothing happens during work, he earns a fortune doing almost nothing—good for him. If something does happen, a capable guy is right there to handle it—good for the company. It’s mutually beneficial. Isn’t that what symbiosis is all about?”
“I’m starting to wonder why the security forces haven’t dragged this guy away yet.”
The closing ceremony ended with an incredibly warm and heartfelt speech.
‘Isn’t the normal thing here to tell people not to cause accidents?’
‘What exactly are we supposed to rest easy about? That there won’t even be any corpse fragments left so cleaning up the remains will be easy?’
‘Let’s stay safe and keep our heads down. That crazy bitch really would do it.’
With that heartwarming address, the closing ceremony came to an end. Students gathered in small groups to chat or began heading off in different directions.
—Those rejoicing that the long period of hardship was finally over and they were temporarily freed from their servant-less, grueling daily lives.
—Those feeling a pang of reluctance at parting from friends they saw every day, even though they knew it wasn’t a permanent goodbye.
—Those smiling at the thought of returning home to show off how much they had grown.
—Those completely absorbed in making private connections with influential nobles during the break.
—Those offering condolences for close friends who had crumbled under the harsh hammering required to become humanity’s sword.
In front of the Academy’s main gate, carriages from every nation were packed tightly, waiting to pick up students. Noble students greeted their escorts with delight, while commoner students trudged out on foot, casting envious glances at the scene. The contrast was striking.
Though compared to the fierce staring contests between coachmen and attendants fighting over positions at the gate, it was probably on the cute side.
The carriage from the Morian Kingdom and the one from the Nahat Grand Duchy were locked in a battle of pride over who should yield the road, only to both turn their horses’ heads in unison when a carriage bearing the crest of an Imperial high noble appeared. Watching this, Frelia Magnus, daughter of the Magnus Marquis family from the Spero Kingdom, thought:
Ah, this is going to take a while.
The Magnus Marquis family was by no means low in status. In fact, as one of the central pillars of the new royalist faction, they were among those who threw their weight around quite freely within the Spero Kingdom. The problem was that the Spero Kingdom itself held a rather weak position compared to the other nations.
By now, the Magnus family carriage had probably already been pushed back by the overwhelming pressure of this terrifying procession.
She briefly considered killing time inside the Academy until the line of carriages cleared, but she didn’t want to risk missing her escort if their paths crossed. As Frelia sighed over her own short-sightedness in not preparing one or two people in advance for exactly this kind of situation—
“Oh? Lady Magnus? What are you doing standing here alone?”
“…Midas.”
Because they saw each other every week in alchemy class, the face in front of her had become quite familiar. The boy with flashy blond hair, the monocle that somehow suited him despite his age, and the oversized backpack slung over his shoulders.
Chrome Midas.
One of the Academy’s most famous figures in more ways than one. He tilted his head at her.
Instead of answering, Frelia looked behind him.
A brown-haired girl equipped with vicious armaments that seemed far too heavy for her small frame—she was covered in weapons from head to toe. Wouldn’t that be heavy? To Frelia, even lifting a knife seemed like it would be a struggle.
Next to her stood a girl with silver hair that carried a bluish tint, dressed in pure white. Her innocent, flower-like aura contrasted sharply with her seductive figure and movements. Even another woman would be startled by how charming she was. She looked younger than Frelia, yet that chest had to be against the rules.
“Lady Magnus?”
“It looks uncomfortable to move in……”
“Pardon?”
No, that wasn’t what she meant to say. She had spaced out for a moment and nonsense had slipped out. Frelia pressed a hand to her forehead, quickly organized her thoughts, then spoke again with the dignity befitting a noble young lady.
“As you can see, I’m simply waiting for my carriage. There’s no need to concern yourself, so please go on your way. I hope you have a pleasant vacation.”
“Isn’t it a bit early for farewells? Even if we’re parting ways, it’ll still take several days at the earliest, won’t it?”
“Huh?”
Chrome looked equally puzzled as he spoke to Frelia, whose mind was now filled with nothing but question marks.
“There’s supposed to be a negotiation between the Magnus family and the Midas Merchant Group regarding the commercialization of the hair-dye potion I asked you about last time. Since our destinations are the same anyway, wouldn’t it be better to travel together?”
Hair-dye potion? Commercialization?
The hair-dye potion part rang a bell. She definitely remembered handing the boy in front of her a strange transformation potion, then using it as a base to create a version that left the actual hair untouched while only changing its color.
But what did he mean by commercialization?
Only then did Chrome seem to realize the situation. He asked again with a subtle expression.
“Um… did your family not tell you anything?”
“They just said that once I complete the manufacturing method at the Academy, I should bring back everything—samples, recipes, it doesn’t matter……”
“……Ah, do you not usually talk much with the family head?”
Talk? If being unilaterally informed of predetermined content counted as conversation, then maybe. Otherwise… well.
“…….”
“…….”
Both of them had the distinct feeling that things were already starting to go wrong from the very first day of vacation.