Chapter 89
Chapter 89
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magic Noble Family
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Time being what it was, the students nodded solemnly without any questions.
I stood before them and spoke.
"You know about the 2:5:3 ratio from epidermis to hypodermis, and applying fixed spells to each layer, right?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Let's start with the epidermis. Mix tissue replication 9 to induction 1 ratio, then add the same amount of alimonium base."
"Uh, hold on!"
"Heat and stir before it all replicates into base. For the next layer, 7:3, same method with base, and since the dermis meds make up 50% of the total, calculate carefully."
As the beakers multiplied, Narke took over the heating.
"The final layer is 3:7. Once done, since we have to succeed within 60 seconds, we'll need the accelerator."
"How much did you add to speed it up by how much?!"
It varies by situation, but since only high school-level problems would come up, I could just go by what we'd learned in class.
"Adding 0.1% of the total speeds reactions by about 10% per change. But don't forget, exceed 5% of the original added amount and you'll get the side effects Leo showed earlier. Calculate properly and add it."
The students poured the potion with swift, silent hands.
Their earlier floundering was gone.
'Give them a direction, and they snap right into it.'
They'd panicked at "what's 3% of 100mL," but recovering that fast proved they were Imperial Secondary Academy students through and through.
Not everyone could handle this even if handed to them, so this composure and quick pivot showed real potential.
Ding-ding-ding—
"Time's up, but finish it off anyway."
Leo stopped the stopwatch.
The students were already combining the potions into one bottle while applying the fixed spells, just as I'd instructed at the start.
"Done!"
They handed the beaker to Leo.
He pricked the test skin and applied our potion layer by layer.
Slower than Leo's demo earlier, but the flowing blood gradually stopped.
"…Oh!"
"It worked!"
The skin tissue was filling in slowly too.
They'd had my help on the skin part, but since they'd made it themselves, the reaction seemed even more intense.
"…No overgrowth, right?"
"Yeah, it stopped!"
With the skin fully regenerated, their calculations must've been spot on.
Memorizing the ratios for blood vessels, skin layers, and meds per layer matters, but botched math ruins it all.
Snapping out of panic to calculate correctly showed their "good at math" rep wasn't hype.
'First try, and this good? Not bad.'
I could provide recipes, so these two handle math, Leo and Narke direction—solid division of labor.
'Plays to our strengths.'
Satisfied with the results, I noticed the Class 1-A kids staring at me. I glanced back and forth with a what-gives look, but they didn't budge.
"…What?"
* * *
"Finally, five drops of consecrated lemon juice. Mental interference potions need the effect neutralized…"
"Dilute!"
"Right. 10% dilution."
We holed up in the lab all day.
Just as I'd planned to use them as calculators, they started treating me like a recipe vending machine.
They memorized everything I read aloud and spat it back, and Leo even dug up past finals questions from round of 64 onward and shoved them at me.
'…They really think I just read and it pops out, huh.'
This was brainwork too.
Too much reading drained my energy.
"Kids, I'm stepping out for some food. Anyone want anything?"
"What? I'll get it!"
One Class 1-A student jumped up yelling.
"Our team lead sits tight. Grunt work's for the wallpaper."
"……."
"You're the only wallpaper, why lump us in?"
"Heard that? Grunt work's for wallpaper."
Plays well…
I left them to it.
Just needed some air anyway.
Worst case, I slack while yapping—that's fine by me.
Leo's better at potions than us but no specialist, so memorizers were essential.
We pulled an all-nighter on experiments, heading back to dorms only at dawn on exam day.
"Lucas, you're our team's hope!"
One Class 1-A kid rubbed his hands eagerly before ducking into his room.
Wonder when he started seeing me that way, but these guys were all from the special class last semester, so the distance felt short.
'Pleroma rumors or whatever, practical gains beat vague gossip now.'
Then Leo came in arms full.
"…What's that?"
"Flower bouquet. Underclassmen came to cheer."
He set a letter basket on my desk.
"Today's mail."
"Thanks. Still a ton coming."
The bundle rustled, and a familiar critter poked its head out.
"Lucas!"
"What the?!"
Leo eyed Pie in disbelief.
Place was clean, so no munching letters despite the rodent looks.
"Narke's asleep now~"
—"So?"
"Wanna play."
—"Can't. I'll crash in an hour or two, so hang here till then."
"Okay!"
I sank into bed for the first time in ages, reading letters one by one.
After three or four, I reached into the basket again and grabbed another thick one.
"Ah."
"What?"
I silently showed him the impressively thick letter.
Leo whistled and buried back in his potion book.
[To the Honorable Lord Nicolaus Ernst,]
*'Dear' now, huh.'
Used to say 'respected,' but this felt less heavy.
I opened it and read the first line.
[As expected, I knew you'd understand! I'm so happy, Lord Ernst. Our souls are connected on a higher plane, sharing the common enemy Pleroma. When can we meet in person?]
"……."
What the hell?
Scratch less heavy.
I dropped the letter on Leo's desk and changed my hair and eye colors.
Leo, puzzled by the mask, read it. His tone grew even more deadpan.
"Lucas, you reply separately?"
"Nope. Even you think it's weird, right?"
"Obviously. What makes her think I 'understood'?"
"Dunno."
I flipped the envelope for the name.
'Robert Mueller.'
Common as dirt name and surname.
I warped to the Crown Prince's Palace with the envelope and knocked on the secretary office door.
"Come in."
"Good day. Here to ask something."
"Ah, Lord Nicolaus. Welcome."
The chief secretary smiled brightly and stood.
"Could I see the incoming mail log for the past week?"
"Of course."
He fetched a thick ledger from the back study and handed it over.
"Thanks."
"No trouble. Take your time."
I opened it to the index and pointed my wand.
—Seek, and ye shall find.
"Robert Mueller."
Pages glowed white in spots.
'…Four letters in a week.'
That much normal?
But… not really an issue.
Fourteen might raise brows, but four was quirky, not suspicious.
The letter seemed from someone off-kilter or mistaken—no real malice.
"Could I see the outgoing mail log too?"
"Ah, that's trickier. Something wrong?"
"Been getting odd letters lately. Wondered if you'd replied on my behalf."
"We do send standard acknowledgments. Want to see? Exception for this."
The secretary replies were bland boilerplate thanks.
Outgoing log showed nothing special.
'…No way she took the auto-reply as "understanding" her.'
Mistake makes more sense.
Weirdos abound, but given the times, better nip potential issues early.
'Gotta check if anyone's replied.'
I headed straight to the Investigation Bureau.
* * *
[We now begin the Bavarian Potion Experiment Tournament round of 64.]
I'd braced for "investigating this now?" but they took my request in stride.
A receipt letter arrived at Leo's office that morning—we knew then.
Freed my mind for the tournament.
"Huff… huff…"
"Sir, you okay…."
Our team waited in the exam hall corridor, muttering in dying voices.
I asked unusually chill Narke.
"Not nervous?"
"Huh? Haha, with your memory, we're golden~"
"Used your power again?"
"Nah. Post-exam maybe, but pre-big stuff, I hold back. Foreknowledge leads to slacking, changes the future. Just trusting the team~"
Fair point.
Looking back, he only blasted it on daily trivia.
Anything big, he played it by ear.
I nodded and peered out the corridor.
The exam hall was a massive gym.
Ten thousand spectators packed everywhere, as advertised.
Listening to other schools' entries, ours came up fast.
[Group 52, Prussia Imperial Secondary Academy Year 2 Representative Team.]
"Woooaaah—!"
"Good luck, Lucas."
The Class 1-A kids, newly resolute, clapped my shoulder.
Safety rules announced, sound barriers went up per table, and the start call rang out.
[Introducing the first experiment topic: mental interference potion.]
"Oh!"
"Yesterday…! Lemon juice one, right?"
They clapped and asked.
I nodded.
We'd practiced it yesterday.
Over fifty potions trialed—hard to not draw it.
Faces lit with confidence at the familiar topic.
The true start signal came.
[Begin now.]
* * *
Thirty minutes later, round of 64 ended.
[Round of 64 complete. Announcing round of 32 qualifiers.]
Magic-script numbers and teams zipped in the air.
"…!"
"Ah…."
"Woooaaah—!"
Mixed reactions everywhere.
Red lines slashed many teams; linked lines meant round of 32.
Numbers climbed past Group 46 to 47, 48.
Then…
Group 52, our team—linked to round of 32.
"Yesssss!"
A Class 1-A kid shoulder-slammed me at eardrum-shattering volume.
"Hey, it's you, Lucas! Without you, we'd really have…!"
"…!"
Air froze icy.
Other schools' heads turned my way.
Bet they're thinking "weird flex."
But next team's cheers drowned it out.
The hyped Class 1-A kid scanned teammates.
"…Did I mess up? Felt like bad-vibe stares, like I shouldn't say that? Your rumors?"
"Probably. Thanks."
Nails it uselessly.
Leo glanced at the bracket, turned with a subtle look.
"Kids. Next: Sachsenmeiningen School of Magical Medicine."
"…Magical medicine…?"
Of 32 surviving teams, 25 were magical pharmacy specialists nationwide.
Specialists ahead, so real test starts round of 32.
[Round of 32 in 40 minutes. Rest freely, return by 12:40.]
* * *
Another round down.
Near-screech from Class 1-A echoed.
"Yesssss!"
"Wow, we nailed it~"
Narke clapped at our school's glowing name on the round of 32 bracket.
Worries unfounded—we reached round of 16 safe.
'One more to go.'
No higher dreams; win here, goal met.
[Round of 16 in 20 minutes. Rest freely, return by 1:40.]
"Only 20 left. Cafe run before end? Sprint there?"
"Yeah, sugar crash. What for you guys?"
"Nah, we're good."
"Got it. Be quick!"
The two Class 1-A kids bolted out.
I watched them vanish and stood.
Difficulty ramping—time to review recipes.
"Gonna hit our team lab quick. Need past questions refresh."
"Yeah, hurry back."
Leo waved casually.
Lab was gym-adjacent; ten minutes round trip. First round had tons coming and going.
'Fewer this break—second one.'
Only 16 of 64 left, so absolute drop-off.
Stepping into our lab, rustling sounded.
Bang! Clunk—
"?!"
Wind rushed from behind.
Door I'd left open slammed shut.
'…Bad vibe.'
I rushed, twisted the handle.
Clunk—
"……."
Locked.
Pushed hard twisting—no give.
'15 minutes to return now, and it's stuck?'
Front door checked—locked too.
"Anyone out there!"
Pounded and yelled—dead silence.
No passersby, like on arrival.
'Who the hell…'
Too many enemies to pinpoint.
Any beaten team hates us.
Even personal grudges against Lucas, or his brother— all suspects.
'…Too many.'
Debating wastes time.
Hunt perp outside later.
Clunk—bang—
Tried handle-push again.
Wood door—not breaking with body alone.
'Sorcery it or warp.'
But warping in/out labs breaks safety rules.
Caught? Team DQ.
Even sneaky warp has a fatal flaw.
'How'd a non-mage escape to the hall.'
Can't dodge suspicion.
If perp bolted, warp out, fake "passerby opened"—fine.
But watched? Can't stage that, warping out gets messy.
'Warp alone, can't report this anomaly.'
Loses chance to ID and punish ringleader.
'…Think calm.'
Escape sans magic.
Worst case, smash door with chair. But magicked door—10 minutes on handle?
I scanned around, pondering.
Like I'd thought before, more modern than expected.
Hazard cabinets, emergency shower, escape hammer…
'…Modern?'
Eyes up.
'Found it.'
Way out.