046 - "Anyway, We Need to Dig a Drainage Ditch. That's the Only Answer."
"Anyway, we need to dig a drainage ditch. That's the only answer."
I stated it firmly.
"Since the roads are wide, we dig along both sides, and in between, we carve out small waterways through the gaps between houses like pruning branches…."
As I spoke, an error popped up in my mental simulation.
The problem was the soil. The ground here was already a quagmire soaked to the brim with filth.
Would a ditch hold up if we just shoveled it out?
No way in hell.
One rainstorm and it'd collapse like a burst dam, the hard-dug channels filling right back up with mud. I remembered watching the guys from the next company over in the army fixing a collapsed drainage ditch.
I turned my head and stared hard at Lucius standing beside me. Piercingly, uncomfortably so.
"…Why are you looking at me like that?"
Lucius took a step back and asked.
I nodded toward his bag with my chin.
"You're an alchemist, right?"
"That's right."
"You've heard my grand plan, so don't you have something helpful? Don't alchemists carry all sorts of weird stuff in their bags?"
Lucius let out a hollow chuckle at my shameless demand, looking utterly exasperated.
"You might balk at the price. My material costs are pretty steep."
"Come on, why so stingy?"
I feigned offense and slung an arm around his shoulders.
"You're a noble now—saving the empire's citizens, and you won't use that talent? What, saving it to cook soup?"
"…I noticed earlier, but you're awfully bold."
"Good is good, right? I'll splurge big on dinner later. Real fancy."
"Fancy, huh."
"I stake my name on it."
I'm a homeowner. Future holder of 400 billion in assets.
If it was just going in my belly, I'd be super picky about freebies, but this wasn't for me. I could fleece him guilt-free.
This was requisitioning for the public good.
Lucius eyed me for a moment, then smirked like he couldn't help it.
"Get ready to pay up for that meal."
Rustle.
He opened the leather bag slung over his back and rummaged inside, pulling something out.
A fist-sized transparent glass flask. Silvery liquid sloshed inside, emitting a mystical glow.
"This'll do it."
"What's that?"
"An alchemical hardener that turns soil rock-hard. Originally developed for repairing castle walls—spray it on dirt, and it petrifies in seconds."
"…!"
My eyes lit up.
Whoa, fuck.
This was a total cheat item—no need for concrete, curing, or any of that bullshit. Just spray and done?
Fantasy worlds were goddamn amazing.
I reached for the flask in awe, then paused.
"But."
"Yes?"
"Isn't the amount too small? Barely fist-sized."
This wouldn't cut it. To line the whole village with ditches, we'd need at least a few oak barrels' worth.
"Even spread thin like a film, half of half this village couldn't be covered. Got more?"
Lucius shook his head with a relaxed smile at my prodding.
"It's fine. This is the pure concentrate."
"Concentrate?"
"Yeah. Dilute it in water. Even at 1:3000, it works fine."
"…1 to 3000?"
Insane.
My mental calculator whirred. That flask looked about 500 ml.
Times 3000?
1,500 liters?
I wasn't an expert, but that could fill a ready-mix concrete drum, right?
…Or not. Felt off, but anyway—one flask made 1,500 liters of hardener solution. No need for "hardener water," just call it hardening solution.
Enough to pave the roads, not just ditches.
"Whoa… that's OP as hell."
"Thanks for the praise."
"How's that even possible? Ignoring laws like conservation of mass?"
"Alchemy recipes for mixing and amplification are family secrets. Trade secrets."
"Ah, right."
Dumb question on my part. Even restaurant grannies don't share broth recipes with daughters-in-law.
I nodded without argument. Fantasy alchemy was straight-up slapping modern science across the face.
"Alright, that'll do it. More than enough."
I grinned in satisfaction and clapped my hands.
Clap!
"Gear's ready, materials sorted."
"So, what first? Start digging now?"
Lucius rolled up his sleeves eagerly.
But I shook my head firmly.
"No."
"Huh?"
"Gotta get the professor's permission first."
"Professor Wilhelm?"
"Obviously."
He said do whatever, but if I actually did and shit hit the fan later, I'd be the one screwed.
Dig a ditch and collapse a neighbor's house? Spray hardener and the smell worsens? Whose fault?
Mine? Hell no.
Gotta get that approval stamp, no exceptions.
That way, if trouble brewed, I could whine, "But the professor said to!" and save my precious neck.
"Let's go. Time to get sign-off."
Bedlam. No other word for the chaos.
Wilhelm von Kreuz stood with arms crossed, gazing down at the empire's wobbly, retching future leaders.
A bitter taste filled his mouth.
This is the true nature of the intellects who'll lead the empire one day.
Spoiled by peace, flaunting book smarts while clueless about the real world. Spouting swordplay and magic theory, yet crumbling at a whiff of stench, unable even to care for themselves.
How could anyone call this the nation's guiding elite?
He'd skipped hiring laborers or experts, shoving only students into this cesspit for a clear reason.
Let pros set everything up? These kids would just ride coattails, crow "We did it! Noblesse oblige!" in self-delusion, snap pics, and bail.
Better they flounder, return stuffed with helplessness and shock.
That defeat, that shame—the true fertilizer for growth.
Even if it's sadistic.
Wilhelm's eyes hardened coldly.
If paying the price for a lifetime of muddled eyes is the only way to make them human, I'll gladly play the villain.
Still.
Amid that pitch-black disappointment, one being held his expectations.
Among the clueless nobles, perhaps the sole shining youth.
Kasian del Parne.
He'd arrived, grabbed an alchemy student named Lucius without hesitation, and vanished into the village depths.
No nose-pinching, no grimacing. Like a veteran back on familiar turf, he calmly absorbed the hellscape and strode in.
That guy's different, as expected.
Wilhelm's lips curved faintly.
This grim reality would be stimulus, not torment, for him.
Of course, he didn't expect instant fixes from two students.
What could they do? He just hoped this planted seeds for resolve to change the nation when he rose high.
And.
Surprisingly, Kasian del Parne wasn't the only light here.
Wilhelm turned to another miracle.
Mud puddle central. Amid girls shrieking in horror at soiling their pristine uniforms, one tiny girl stood silently resolute.
Saintess Lily.
"…."
She laid filthy tarps to claim space, then shouted at students blankly staring at rotten rainwater barrels.
Her trembling voice packed iron will.
"For those who've fasted long, solid food or cart-dried rations are like poison! Mix in water, boil into soup! We need lots of clean water—who'll help me fetch some?!"
"B-but where's the water…."
"The woods are near, and the village sits here—that means a water source can't be far!"
Her eyes burned desperate.
"Saw big pots in the supply cart. Anyone help carry? Can't do it alone!"
At her practical orders, a few consciences thawed and stirred.
"I-I'll help!"
"Me too!"
Students gathered one by one.
Order—small but sure—emerged from the pandemonium.
Wilhelm couldn't hide his admiration.
Thought she was temple propaganda… she's the real deal.
A true saintess. She knew how to save lives.
Then.
Thud, thud.
Gazes snapped to the village interior.
Wilhelm turned too.
Far off, two men slogged through squelching mud.
Kasian and Lucius.
Kasian approached with hands in pockets, crooked stride like he'd just strolled the block.
Right in Wilhelm's face, he blurted,
"Professor."
"Yes. What is it?"
"Need permission for something."
"Permission?"
Wilhelm raised a brow.
"Told you to do anything. Sounded like a joke?"
"Well."
Kasian didn't flinch. If anything, he seemed mildly peeved at his professor.
"You said that figuring we wouldn't actually do real work. Thought we'd just play at it."
"…Hm?"
"Wanna dig big-time, but okay to excavate without reports? No complaints later?"
"Digging, eh."
Wilhelm's eyes narrowed, gleaming alive.
This was how doers operated.
"Lots of gripes, I see. What's the reason?"
"Can I really say?"
Kasian shot back.
Ha, this kid.
Wilhelm nodded.
"Speak freely. Whatever you say here, so long as no lies, I stake my soldier's honor on forgiving it."
"…Sigh."
Kasian scratched his nape, dumping words like it was a huge hassle.
"Fine, since no punishment."
He nodded at the villagers. Gaunt elders and kids watching nobles anxiously.
"Teaching these airheads a lesson by treating villagers like zoo monkeys on display…."
"…!"
"Figured even heaven-sent generals are generals. You're good people, but separately, you subtly don't see them as people."
The air froze.
Lucius gasped, stumbling back.
Daring to critique an imperial hero and professor to his face? Beyond lèse-majesté—blasphemy.
Kasian pressed on undaunted.
"Nobles or not, they're imperial citizens, right? They got pride, lives. Parading their existence for our 'education,' puking and shitting everywhere—what's that do to them?"
"…."
"Least pay for the show. Bought a ticket? So I'm expanding the stage to earn that fare."
A sharp, precise critique of exploiting slum lives as educational props.
"…Kh, khkhk."
Wilhelm's shoulders shook.
His lips twisted into a bizarre grin.
This one's the real thing.
In a fake-riddled world, a genuine article rolled in.
He seized Kasian's shoulder.
"Right! You're spot on! I was reckless!"
"…Pardon?"
"Fare! Brilliant! Perfectly brilliant! Do as you like! Dig, demolish—whatever! I'll handle the fallout!"
Wilhelm roared laughter, slapping Kasian's back.
Thwack! Thwack!
"Ow, Professor! Breaking bones here!"
"No whining! Now go—do it splendidly, magnificently!"
"Why do all generals love 'splendidly' and 'magnificently'?"
Kasian recoiled, escaping the grip.
"Anyway, we're off."
He grumbled, beckoning Lucius.
"C'mon. Time to dig."
"…Yes."
Lucius followed, dazed but eyes sparkling.
Wilhelm watched their retreating backs, fist clenched tight.
His heart pounded fiercer than before battle.