Chapter 222
Chapter 222
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 222
Chapter Title: The Witches' Uniform Dilemma
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Uniforms are cool.
Do you know why?
It's because uniforms are clothes you have to wear by force, so they must look good.
Uniforms are garments that reveal a group's identity at a glance.
That's why groups like soldiers or police are forced to wear them—they need to show their status without saying a word.
But what if those forcibly imposed clothes look utterly ridiculous?
It leads to the absurd situation where people lose the will to work just because of the outfit.
That's why uniforms must be cool.
And that's also why uniforms, which suppress freedom and individuality, are the natural enemy of witches who want to experiment wildly and pursue their whims in research.
After all, even if they're cool, they still force everyone into one path, one appearance.
So why on earth would witches abandon their individuality to create uniforms?
Ironically, it was because of the prejudices born from their very individuality.
"Kids who haven't even properly awakened their mana yet—these milk-scented brats say witches are gloomy, grubby, and all over the place, so they hate us. I mean, seriously, we're not keen on taking talentless ones either."
"That must have really gotten under your skin."
Wild and freewheeling chaos was the witches' identity, but it was precisely because of that they were on the verge of losing their lifeline as a group.
Women were already a limited talent pool, and if the image of a bunch of weirdos dried that up completely, the result was obvious: extinction.
"Our witches are so capable, cool, and smart... We can't just sit idly by while ignorant kids spread these smears, right?"
"Indeed. Every field of study deserves respect."
Personally, the nameless kids' opinions didn't sound like smears at all, but I nodded along with a mechanical smile.
"That's why we're trying to change our image before it's too late."
"Hence the uniforms?"
"Yes."
And so, the witches resolved to secure future talent, even if it meant sacrificing their individuality.
"I understand the intent, but why uniforms specifically? Couldn't you just improve your surroundings or increase public activities?"
"None of that's feasible."
"Hm?"
Drawing the curtains, turning up the lights, and dressing properly—hardly insurmountable tasks.
Anyone capable of social interaction shouldn't find it that difficult...
"Should I explain in detail, or keep it simple?"
"Simple, please."
As I blinked in confusion, Lady Eileen spoke first.
Since complicated stuff would just give me a headache, and I'd asked for simple, she rolled her eyes a bit, organized her thoughts, and continued with an awkward smile.
"This environment is the one where we can best commune with spirits. Our blunt, eccentric personalities stem from that too. Without spirits, our power drops to half—no, a fraction of that."
"Hmm~"
It wasn't my place to chime in.
Best not to poke at what you don't understand.
"So, what kind of clothes do you want?"
I moved straight to the topic of clothing.
"One thing to clarify upfront: we want to shed the gloomy image, but keep the sensual, alluring vibe. That's core to being a witch."
"Uh..."
Is that right...?
It felt off to claim sensuality and allure as the identity of those wielding magic and spells.
Ultimately, I'd do what the client wanted, but a thorny path already loomed ahead.
"Tch... Anything else?"
"Hm~ Give me a sec."
Lady Eileen pondered briefly, gestured for me to sit tight, then stood and headed to the door.
"Hey! Anyone with time, gather in my office!"
She flung the door wide, stuck her head out, bellowed down the hall, then returned with a smug look.
"......"
I sat there in bewilderment until soon, bustling footsteps echoed from beyond the door. It swung open, revealing several witches.
"What's up?"
Lady Aysun, carrying a tray of tea and cookies, asked irritably, as if demanding an explanation.
"We're making uniforms just for witches. Give me your opinions."
"Uniforms? Why bother?"
Lady Aysun set the tray on the table and stared down Lady Eileen like she'd spouted nonsense.
"We already wear witch-friendly outfits."
"Ha... You have no idea how much of a mess you all look."
"We tidied up nicely for the guest."
Other witches chimed in with oblivious comments, grating on Lady Eileen's nerves.
"Haa..."
Her hands trembled as she pinched her brow. She glared murderously at the witches, pointing them out one by one to critique their outfits.
"Maryam, start by patching the holes in your clothes."
"Sister, skin needs to breathe too. I made breathing holes for my skin's sake."
"Then why not go naked?"
"Can I?"
"Shut up."
There were extreme naturalists.
"Elif, you're mostly fine... Wait, Elif, wasn't that dress originally white? Why's it ivory?"
"Sister, these days, clothes with a lived-in feel are the trend!"
"That's just dirt, you lazy slob."
Extreme environmentalists who despised detergents.
"Aysun, flashing your chest like that at your age—what a sight."
"I gotta get married sometime!"
"Then stop holing up inside and go outside!"
Mid-forties witches obsessed with marriage.
"Leila, your clothes are so thin everything shows through—what's that about?"
"It's just that I gained weight and they stretched..."
"Ah, um... Sorry..."
Some witches got undeserved flak.
"Seila, lengthen that skirt hem. Your butt's practically out, you wench."
"Hmph, it's walking-friendly with nothing to snag on the legs."
"Anyway, you idiots—kids hate witches because of how you look!"
"Ehh... How's that our fault?"
Not one listened properly.
"......"
Hm, total disaster.
If they were off playing in forests or deserts, they might've had a mysterious aura, but up close, they were a bunch of goofs.
This is why kids say no to witches.
My conviction grew that the nameless brats' assessments weren't smears.
Would changing clothes fix this mess? Doubtful. But seeing it firsthand, even an outsider like me felt sorry and wanted to help.
"Mind if I say something straightforward?"
"Go ahead."
"If you leave things as is and no new witches join, won't you get overshadowed by shamans who handle spirits similarly?"
I'd tossed it out purely out of concern.
"......"
The witches' faces twisted.
A chill ran down my spine.
I glanced at Emily; her face was pale as she peeked at me.
"W-what does someone without mana know!"
The classic reaction from someone properly offended. I'd stepped on a landmine good.
"Uh, well..."
"Seila, apologize."
As I opened my mouth to apologize, Lady Eileen turned to the sour-faced witches and demanded they apologize to me instead.
"Why?"
Perplexed since I'd messed up yet was receiving apologies, the first offended witch snapped back irritably.
Lady Eileen smiled calmly, pointed at me, and spoke.
"This is the son of the Hume Frontier Count."
"Gasp... He's the investor's son?"
"And he's the first one who bought that black water byproduct we had no use for."
Seila caved fast.
"Sorry!"
Realizing my father was second-in-command of the magic division and I was why witches could join it, she bowed deeply, admitting fault where there was none.
"I got worried too, so I overstated. An academic field without new talent is like a slowly sinking ship."
I apologized lightly, tacking on my excuse.
"......"
Unlike moments ago when "shaman underling" had stung them, their faces turned somewhat serious.
"You think this look is the problem?"
"I like the free spirit, but tarnishing your image to the point of repulsion—that's an issue."
"Will clothes alone change that?"
"Better than doing nothing and sinking. At least shed the off-putting image."
"Hmm..."
The witches exchanged glances, hesitant to reply.
"Don't overthink—just say yes or no."
"Fine. Better than being treated as shamans' underlings. Whatever."
"If the investor's son says so, there must be a problem."
Lady Eileen, exasperated, pressured them with pitiful stares until they slowly nodded.
"So, how should we make them? Speak now, or I'll do whatever."
"They should hug the body snug—doesn't snag during experiments."
"Can you make hats too? High collars would be great. Sun hurts after long lab sessions."
"I want leg movement unhindered."
"Dark colors."
"And pretty, please."
Once prompted, demands flowed effortlessly, no hesitation.
"Not too demanding."
Similar tastes made them easy to combine.
A bit of brainstorming should yield something good.
"Alright. I'll draft something incorporating your input by next week and bring it back. We can refine from there—sound good?"
"Whatever suits you."
"Thanks. I'll bring satisfying results."
"Yes."
I've got to whip up something flashy they'll love.