I Just Made Up My Mind
Wednesday’s lecture schedule had officially begun.
Which meant one thing: it was time for Developing an Eye!
I arrived at the lecture hall filled with anticipation, eager to see what kind of lesson our professor—the one endowed with an exceptionally bountiful pouch of justice—had prepared for us today. Yet for some reason, the room was thick with tension.
“Oh. You’re here, Orknodi?”
“Good morning, Senior!”
“That thing from last time—I put it to good use.”
“Hehe. Me too.”
As I exchanged casual pleasantries with Senior Bigstone, Senior Lizna, who was tidying her hair in the adjacent seat, narrowed her eyes in deep suspicion.
“What’s this? Since when did you two get so close?”
“The senior gave me something wonderful!”
“Something wonderful?”
“A mushroom! It was small, but it was enough for a whole serving!”
“…A mushroom?”
Lizna shot Bigstone a murderous glare.
“Hey. What did you do to a kid? Don’t tell me… you didn’t, right?”
“Of course not! We just made a mutually beneficial trade after class, that’s all!” Bigstone shrieked, visibly terrified.
“Ah, I didn’t mean it was poor quality! It was small, but truly splendid!”
Lizna’s gaze dropped below freezing.
“‘Of course not,’ my foot, you absolute scumbag. You wanted to show a ten-year-old child a ‘small but splendid mushroom’?”
“Say Red Teeth Mushroom! Orknodi!! Quickly, say it’s a Red Teeth Mushroom, right now!!!”
“It was a Red Teeth Mushroom!”
“…You should have said so from the start. If you just call it a ‘small but splendid mushroom,’ what else is anyone supposed to think?”
Conscious of Lizna’s lingering glare pointed straight at his waistband, Bigstone hastily crossed his legs and averted his eyes.
“Senior, why are you suddenly crossing your legs?”
“I’m sorry, Junior. I don’t know what terrible crime I committed in a past life, but clearly I deserve death. Could you please just forgive me and go somewhere else?”
“Orknodi. Why are you tormenting a poor senior first thing in the morning?”
Isabelle stepped in to rein me in, so I dropped the teasing and got down to business.
“By the way, why is the atmosphere in here so stiff?”
“You’re asking because you really don’t know? It’s the assignment, obviously.”
“Aha.”
Thanks to Titocoga’s unintentional trolling during the last session, our homework now offered both bonus points and penalty points.
To avoid a collective penalty, everyone had been forced to suffer through the tedious chore of gathering relevant reference books and official documents related to Developing an Eye for Asset Valuation.
The sudden estrangement and icy chill permeating the first-years was born of mutual wariness and anxiety, each student trying desperately to dodge a penalty.
“Ah, h-hello, Orknodi…”
“Titocoga. Why are you hovering by the door?”
“Ugh… It just feels so hard to walk inside.”
Well, the other first-years had hurled plenty of harsh words at her after the last class ended, after all.
“Listen up, everyone! Titocoga is here, so apologize!”
“Whaaa, Orknodi! Don’t just rat them out at the top of your lungs like that!”
“It’s better to make peace quickly in situations like this!”
If you leave these things alone, people sulk, start fighting behind closed doors, and eventually turn into bitter enemies who make the entire academy atmosphere toxic.
Sure, fixed story events would inevitably force classmates to clash down the road anyway, but there was no reason to draw battle lines this early in the semester.
“Why should we apologize?”
“We might get penalty points because of her!”
The first-years grumbled in discontent.
“If you get penalty points, it’s not because of Titocoga—it’s because you were lazy and didn’t prepare your assignment properly!”
“Wh-what do you know?!”
“I’m the cohort top student! When it comes to studying and homework, of course you should listen to me!”
In school and academia, grades were law.
A single line—So, what’s your class rank?—was all it took to settle any hierarchy dispute.
Reluctantly, the students muttered half-hearted apologies.
Neither I nor Titocoga expected genuine contrition anyway. Getting these prideful Gift Academy elites to even go through the motions of an apology was already a massive victory.
Besides, a student’s true enemy was never the class valedictorian.
“Now then, let us see how well you have prepared your first assignment. Everyone, bring out the books and official documents you brought.”
With a strikingly pretty face and a massive bust of justice resting above, the instructor who ruthlessly worked her students like pack animals was the real enemy!
The students pulled out the materials they believed were essential for assessing an aristocrat’s net worth.
A master thief had to cultivate the keen eye required to see through a wealthy manor’s hidden assets—or so went Professor Bronze’s personal doctrine, and the students had prepared as best they could to meet it.
“Professor! I brought up the official land registry ledgers to identify the territories owned by noble families!”
“Well done, Vivian. Provincial lords often accumulate their wealth and assets purely through land yields rather than open markets, so understanding their territory is the foundation of foundations.”
“I determined that the vassals serving under a lord are the true core of their assets, so I retrieved the vassal contract registries submitted to the central governments!”
“Good work, Adolf. A lord’s lands are protected by their retainers. Gauging the status of their commanding retainers is indeed crucial.”
Up to this point, however, the students had simply made do with standard bureaucratic inquiries.
Titocoga, who must have felt deeply stung by everyone’s previous persecution, had gone so far as to borrow three whole volumes.
“I checked the ledgers of private leasing contractors who manage grain storage facilities across various territories to see where surplus harvests accumulated! Then, cross-referencing bard accounts of local festivals, I compiled a list of domains where surplus yields were never redistributed to the peasantry!”
For the first time, Professor Bronze clapped her hands.
“Splendid. The less a lord invests in the welfare, convenience, and development of their people, the more likely illicit wealth is piling up while the common folk suffer. An exceptional perspective that never lost sight of the ‘righteousness’ in a righteous thief.”
Though the other students bristled at hearing Titocoga praised, they had to acknowledge her sheer thoroughness.
Even Isabelle, who had learned she could borrow books from the commissary, hadn’t prepared anything nearly that detailed. It was a stark reminder of Titocoga’s hidden aptitude.
Even the second-year seniors, Bigstone and Lizna, hadn’t earned that level of commendation.
“Is Developing an Eye the only class she’s taking? Why go that hard on the prep work?”
“Don’t make excuses, Bigstone. It looks pathetic.”
Submissions and evaluations continued until it was finally Sing’s turn.
Everyone looked on with bated breath, wondering what that solitary eastern swordsman had brought to the table. Sing simply stood there with his arms crossed, his desk completely bare.
“Sing. Do you have nothing to show?”
“This assignment does nothing to temper my blade.”
The sheer audacity! Declaring straight to the professor’s face that he had prepared absolutely nothing simply because it was of no use to his martial path!
“Holy crap. That’s insane charisma.”
“Gotta admit, that’s pretty cool.”
Regardless of the seniors’ awe, Sing naturally received the lowest possible score and a fresh batch of penalty points.
Before long, it was my turn as the last student in line.
“Freshman Orknodi. Did you also come empty-handed?”
“As if.”
Very few people in this world possessed the suicidal audacity to live like Sing. Even a veteran gamer like me lacked that degree of unhinged bravado, so I dutifully unloaded the mountain of books and documents I had prepared.
While the others had brought three books at most, or simply waved around a few official papers, I constructed an actual tower of literature upon my desk.
“Here is a certified copy of the imperial land registry, this is the vassal contract index, these are the warehouse leasing ledgers and surplus redistribution audits, and here are the precious metal sales reports alongside auction bidding records from every major territory!”
Naturally, I had simply memorized every single piece of evidence that high-ranking NPCs had brought during my past playthroughs of this course and checked them all out in bulk.
“So that’s why she’s the top student.”
“Unreal. That’s what it takes to be number one?”
“She literally brought everything the rest of us had combined.”
I felt a tiny twinge of guilt, as if I had stolen everyone else’s hard work, but hey—the professor herself was a thief!
You have completed the assignment for Developing an Eye with the highest distinction.
Professor Bronze has become further convinced that she must take you as her disciple.
Promotion to the Class Chivalrous Thief's Disciple is now available.
…Wait, the reward wasn’t supposed to be like this?
Where are my Points?
Where is my actual prize? Why am I only getting burdened with extra responsibilities?
I pouted in bitter grievance, but Professor Bronze merely chuckled, finding the expression adorable.
She was truly a wicked instructor.
“Titocoga. Starting next lecture, you’re going to be the top student.”
“Forget it. How could I ever match your level of preparation? I wouldn’t stand a chance even if I died and came back to life.”
“No. Even if you don’t want to, I will drag you to the top rank.”
“Orknodi… Do you really want to help me that much?”
“Let’s go with that.”
“Orknodi…!”
It was purely a scheme to divert Professor Bronze’s aggro onto Titocoga, but seeing how touched she was, I figured all was well!
After sitting through the rest of the lecture, I walked outside to find the first-years in utter misery. It was lunchtime—a window when classes were supposed to band together, pooling their strength and wits to hunt Giant King Crabs—yet everyone was loitering about, sucking their thumbs with tearful expressions.
“What is everyone doing out here?”
“The third-year seniors swept through and took all the Giant King Crabs.”
“!”
The ravenous upperclassmen had stripped the hunting grounds clean, leaving the freshmen to starve!
“Then you can just catch some fish!”
“That’s impossible too, nya.”
Jenya, the feline beastperson, whined with a face as pitiful as a depressed toad.
“The second-year seniors launched entire fishing trawlers and are hoarding every single fish, nya. If we want fish, we have to pay Points to buy them, nya…”
The second-years of the 980th cohort had begun resorting to downright underhanded tactics.
Like a massive gaming guild monopolizing farming zones to extort protection fees, they were leveraging raw force to impose outrageous terms.
What? Are they trying to start a war?
Seeing my classmates reduced to water striders licking salt off their own fingers to stave off hunger made my heart ache with pity.
“Oh, dear. What a shame!”
“Orknodi needs to eat lots to grow tall too, so pitiful, nya.”
“I’m fine, actually! I was invited to Arcadia’s tea party!”
It was the perfect chance to kill two birds with one stone: fill my belly and register new entries in my Food Codex.
Deciding that starvation was someone else’s problem, I went skipping off to find Arcadia. But a bolt from the blue awaited me.
“I am terribly sorry, Di. Given the dire circumstances, I felt compelled to exercise noblesse oblige and starve alongside everyone else today. I must cancel our tea party to sample the yakgwa brought from the East.”
I will crush the second-years who threaten the survival of first-years.
I just made up my mind.