A Righteous Lecture
“Orknodi, why the long face?”
“I think I had a weird dream last night.”
I definitely remembered dreaming about something, but for the life of me, I couldn’t recall what it was. It left behind a distinctly filthy, unsettled feeling that was impossible to put into words.
“Heh heh.”
“You seem to be in a great mood, Uncle Giselle.”
“A wonderful idea came to me in the dead of night, you see.”
Isabelle, who had been eating breakfast alongside us in the dining hall, chimed in with an utterly exasperated expression. “If that man ever opens a storefront, I swear I’m never buying a single thing from it.”
“What did he do this time?”
“I sold flags,” Giselle answered smoothly.
“Whaaat?!”
“Naturally, I did not liquidate all of our genuine flags. Rather, I manufactured a generous supply of counterfeits.”
I was rendered speechless. The gaming world was full of eccentric players, but in all my years, this was the first time I had ever witnessed an NPC coming up with the idea to craft and peddle counterfeit items.
“This, too, is a craft I acquired by learning from your own ingenuity, Lady Orknodi. Are not exceptional adaptability and creativity precisely the virtues demanded by this academy?”
“Isn’t tanking your credibility as a merchant a pretty bad move, though?”
“Haha! As expected of Lady Orknodi, ever sharp. Naturally, I took thorough precautions against such a dilemma. To be precise, I did not sell fakes—I sold the possibility of acquiring the genuine article.”
“And what on earth is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I shuffled authentic flags among the replicas, selling attempts to pull a real one at a one-percent drop rate.”
He sold a randomized flag gacha.
I had wondered why the exam passes hawked by the ticket scalpers included duds that couldn’t even be used to take the entrance exam. I would bet a thousand Points that Giselle was the mastermind behind that operation, too.
“How much were you charging?”
“A mere one hundred Points per pull. Would you care to try your luck as well, Lady Orknodi?”
“No thanks. I already hoarded plenty.”
“Hmm, I see. Then how about this instead? Would you be willing to sell a few of your genuine flags to me?”
I had originally planned to offload some of my spares anyway, but pricing was a bit of a question mark.
“I was thinking of selling real ones for one hundred Points apiece. You fine with that?”
“Why wouldn't I be? I shall purchase them immediately.”
A chime echoed from the magic watch around my wrist as the Points transferred over, and I handed him ten flags.
“Heh heh. Now, if I simply advertise higher win rates and distribute even more fakes, the ten flags you just sold me for one thousand Points could easily return tenfold into ten thousand Points.”
“…Yeah, I’m never buying a single thing from your shop either, Uncle Giselle.”
Black-market merchant logic was genuinely terrifying!
While Monday’s first period had a homeroom session, Wednesday’s first period did not. Gift Academy operated far more like a university than a high school, meaning homeroom was reserved strictly for announcing major schoolwide events and weekly schedules.
[Faculty of Adventure]
[Developing an Eye — Lecture Hall]
Consequently, Wednesday's opening lecture was the course scheduled right after Monday's homeroom: Developing an Eye.
It was taught by a gorgeous, impeccably styled professor who looked stunning in a silk top hat and white suit. Her name was Bronze, but her chest was undeniably platinum-grade—truly an instructor of exemplary stature.
“Would anyone care to make a purchase before the lecture begins? It might prove advantageous for your studies.”
Giselle had laid out a woven mat right in the middle of the lecture hall. Arranged across it were rows of earplugs in various shapes and sizes, designed to fit snugly inside one's ears.
“Here is your chance to select earplugs in the color and design of your choice. At a mere three Points a pair, it is an absolute bargain.”
“If three Points keeps my ears from ringing like a church bell, that's a steal.”
“It stings a bit to fork over what basically amounts to the cost of a full meal, but remembering that awful auditory terrorism from last time makes it totally worth buying one.”
Students obediently coughed up their Points, purchasing pairs one after another. Among them stood Titocoga—the wealthy, easily frightened socialite from the frontier nobility.
“Hey, Titocoga, next time let's buy a microphone and sing some songs!”
“Yeah, totally! It’ll feel like a real disco ball. It’s gonna be so much fun!”
“Hehe. Should we?”
She had originally been duped by her older sister into believing that buying a heavy lighting stand would make her popular, causing her to haul the cumbersome contraption around like a pitiable fool. Yet here she was—unlike her miserable state during Professor Sadako's nightmare-inducing fifth-period class, Adventurer’s Night Operations—actually blossoming into a genuine campus favorite.
Well, if someone brought a prop to a party or took off their shoes before boarding a plane just because someone told them to, it would definitely be entertaining to watch.
Whether she was a bona fide social butterfly or simply the popular crowd’s beloved mascot, I couldn't say for sure. Regardless, I was just glad Titocoga had made friends!
“Ah! It’s the seniors who ditched us and ran away back then!”
“Seniors! How could you do that to us?!”
Titocoga and her lively clique, possessing the loudest voices in the room, puffed out their cheeks in adorable mock outrage toward the second-year students.
“Haha! Sorry about that, freshmen. If we give away the exam contents or lend a hand, it counts as cheating.”
“Is that really true?”
“Think about it. If the second-years, having already experienced the trick once, ruined the surprise assignment the professor prepared for you, how annoying would that look to her?”
Walking on eggshells around professors was a universal trait shared by first- and second-years alike.
“Well, since it’s coming from Senior Bigstone, who openly badmouths professors right to their faces, we'll believe you!”
“Since it’s Senior Bigstone, the hot-blooded man who actually confessed to his unrequited crush in broad daylight, it can't be a lie. We'll trust you!”
“And since you're somehow still treated like a decent human being and get to hang out with your female friend even after bombing that public confession, we'll let you off the hook just this once.”
Was that how freshmen bullied people these days?
Titocoga’s extroverted friends were utterly terrifying. I made a solemn mental note never to get on their bad side.
“Hey, you guys. Don't tease Bigstone just because he seems easygoing. He might be our friend, but he’s still your senior.”
“Ah, sorry about that!”
“Keep it in moderation.”
Unlike the pushover Bigstone, the female friend who had received his public confession and the taciturn second-year senior flanking him were tough customers, even for Titocoga's clique. More importantly, getting cozy with upperclassmen was a clever survival strategy; staying on their good side meant receiving advance warnings about gruesome assignments.
Back on Earth, plenty of players tackled academy gameplay by prioritizing social networking just like this.
“Welcome, students.”
Networking is fine, but never with professors! Getting cozy with a professor is the express lane to becoming an overworked teaching assistant or a perpetual graduate student!
“In our last session, we tested your ‘eye’ through practical exercise by tasking you with locating and defusing alarm clocks concealed throughout the room. Those who disabled every alarm successfully claimed their bonus points.”
“What?! Wait, Professor! The freshmen actually managed to get the bonus? We couldn't even pull that off last year!”
“Hmph. It was your own blunder to underestimate the freshmen's potential and leave early. Dismissal was entirely voluntary, so do not bear a grudge against me.”
“Did these kids come from some professional treasure-hunting expedition crew or something?”
“Do not misunderstand. Out of the twenty clocks, eleven were discovered by a single student acting alone.”
The second-years whipped their heads toward the first-years, their faces dripping with profound regret. Their gazes landed directly on the individual whom the professor was eyeing with an unmistakable, benevolent fondness—Orknodi, the very freshman who had uncovered the lion's share of the clocks.
“Now that our previous lecture provided you with a taste of practice, this session will incorporate a touch of light theory.”
“By now, you have all felt the importance of having an eye. However, you currently lack the knowledge of what, exactly, one ought to seek with such a refined gaze.”
“Let us hear a few thoughts. You there, the student with the lighting stand. What would you search for with a discerning eye?”
Titocoga paled slightly, visibly trembling under the weight of dozens of eyes locking onto her from every corner of the room.
“A lecture where the professor isn’t scary…”
Laughter erupted across the lecture hall.
Professor Bronze arched an eyebrow, her expression asking: You don't mean me, do you?
Titocoga shook her head furiously, frantically denying the implication. I had a pretty good idea of what she meant. The terrifying professor currently haunting Titocoga’s nightmares was none other than Professor Sadako, whom she was slated to face again during fifth period.
“Distinguishing classes with terrifying professors through a discerning eye would indeed preserve a comfortable academic life. How about the student over there, who sold all those earplugs?”
“I would like to find lectures optimal for conducting business. Thus far, my discernment has proven quite satisfactory.”
Laughter washed over the room once more. To seize upon the idea of turning a profit within three days of enrollment required an eye sharp enough to earn even Professor Bronze’s approving nod.
“Discerning the appropriate tools to remedy shortcomings experienced during class is also commendable—especially for leading an affluent life here at the academy.”
“However, what I intend to teach you during this lecture is of a slightly different nature.”
Professor Bronze slipped a hand inside her tailored jacket. Her fingers brushed casually against the bountiful contours of her pocket of justice before extracting an item.
“What I intend to teach you is how to discern which items and owners are fair game for thievery. The art of appraising unrighteous individuals—and unrighteous goods.”
Professor Bronze fluttered the papers clutched in her hand.
Upon seeing them, the second-years’ eyes went wide with shock. A beat later, the bewildered first-years caught on as well.
“For instance, a certain wicked professor who persecutes and looks down upon their colleagues would qualify as an unrighteous individual.”
“And should such a professor prepare a pop quiz unilaterally rigged in favor of imperial nobles under the pretext of evaluating the freshmen's aptitude, both the exam papers and the answer sheets would undeniably constitute unrighteous items.”
This professor just straight-up stole her colleague’s quiz and answer key…!
The lecture kicked into gear, commanding the undivided, laser-focused attention of every single student in the room. Orknodi was technically an exception, having deliberately avoided enrolling in any classes taught by imperial noble professors, but—
“Wait… isn’t that the name of the professor from my fourth-period class…?”
At Isabelle’s hushed mutter, my eyes lit up with radiant intensity. If this was a chance to help my precious personal chef, then that changed everything!