Chapter 24
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: The Research Chief Spot Suits My Clever Self
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Pastel hummed cheerfully as she moved the finest bales of cotton to the cargo hold. Fresh bales piled atop the already heaped ones.
"Demon! Demon!"
She flapped her arms.
"The hold's full! Totally full! The hold is packed! That's what it means, right? The hold is stuffed!"
Whoa whoa whoa.
"Demon! Demon!"
"...I'm listening."
The demon gave a half-hearted reply and rubbed his forehead, lost in thought by himself.
How the hell did things end up like this? I shouldn't have suggested smuggling from the start. But was there any other way to cover the mana stone meals? Sustainable big money isn't possible in the short term.
The demon sighed.
If only the Craft Family had been intact, it would've been easy—no, why the hell would I wish for the Crafts to be fine? How did it come to this...
"Demon! Demon! The hold! The hold!"
Pastel pointed at the demon with her finger.
The demon turned and panicked.
Oh, I get it now.
"The hold! Hurry! Hurry! The hold!"
The demon puzzled over her intent with a confused look before opening his mouth.
"It's full?"
"Yes! Right! Correct!"
Pastel threw her arms up in victory.
"The hold is full!"
Yay.
She spun around in circles. Her spinning vision filled entirely with smuggled goods.
"Whoaaa!"
The academy airship's warehouse was completely packed.
"Next smuggling run needs a bigger airship! Let's go let's go! Pastel fighting!"
"Don't plan the next one already..."
The demon muttered in a deflated tone.
Pastel yanked the demon's arm and took off running.
"Depart! Depart!"
She raced down the airship corridor to the helm.
She gripped the round wooden helm wheel with a solemn face.
"Captain Pastel declares departure!"
She spun the helm vigorously.
"Heave-ho! Heave-ho! Heave-ho!"
The helm spun round and round.
Whirly whirly whirly.
The demon watched it for a moment before turning to operate the control mechanisms in front of the helm.
Gears turned, small magic circles glowed. Mana stones triggered a chain reaction, and the airship slowly lifted off.
"Heave-ho! Heave-ho! Heave-ho!"
Pastel spun the helm frantically.
Whirly whirly whirly.
The demon glanced at the compass and map briefly. Then he adjusted the controls for direction, altitude, and speed with precision.
"Hm, all set."
The airship set sail along the sky paths.
Captain Pastel released her hands from the diligently spun helm.
She wiped her forehead with her sleeve.
"Phew, that was tough."
Is this the captain's duty?
One departure drains so much stamina.
The demon turned to her.
"That doesn't actually work anyway, but it's still an emergency helm, so don't play with it too much. It'll be trouble if it breaks when we need it."
"Okay."
Captain Pastel replied with one ear in and one ear out.
A charismatic captain never listens to the crew!
Pastel decided to stay true to her captainly duties.
I won't listen to the demon.
Gonna spin it next time too.
Pastel leaned on the railing and peered through the telescope. Far off in the sky floated a pirate airship.
Looking closely at the pirate ship, she spotted a pirate peering back through a telescope.
Hours had passed since the pirate ship appeared. All that time, it had kept its distance while sailing and continuously observed them.
Pastel, who had been freaking out and trembling for hours, was now too tired to do anything but stare blankly at the pirate ship.
Her eyes met the telescope-wielding pirate's, or so it seemed.
Nooo, pirate buddies.
She watched a bit longer before lowering the telescope.
"What are they even doing?"
The demon, apron on and stirring milk cream in a bowl with a spatula, glanced at the pirate ship.
"Probably just keeping watch. Your combat prowess unnerves them, so they're observing our intentions."
"What if they call in another pirate ship and attack together?"
"Let me see the telescope."
The demon handed off the cream bowl and took the telescope.
"Loose vigilance and slacking off. Doesn't look like pre-battle stance."
"What if it's a ruse? Since I killed their pirates, maybe they're here for thorough revenge."
Eek.
Cold harsh reality hits.
"You have a tendency to undervalue your appearance. Half your life runs on your looks."
Eh?
Not thanks to my smart brain?
Shock.
"Getting thrashed by a kid and then bringing reinforcements is one of the most pride-shattering things. Especially after attacking first. Requesting backup would just earn mockery from fellow pirates."
The demon lowered the telescope.
"Still, just in case, let's eat on deck today. Thinking simple coconut cream pie. Speak now if you want something else. I'll make..."
The demon handed back the telescope and reached for the cream bowl.
Then he spotted Pastel with the spatula in her mouth and whipping cream smeared all over her face. Mana stone powder was roughly sprinkled on the cream.
Pastel's eyes went wide.
"Gasp, when did I...?"
Her mouth kept chewing away despite her words.
"Whoa whoa whoa! Demon! This whipping cream is sooo good! Smooth and sweet! Your cooking skills are top-tier!"
The demon eyed the pie-destined cream, then looked up at the sky.
"Yeah, eat up. I can make more..."
He looked like he was pondering how his life had come to this.
Soon after, Pastel finished eating and stood at the railing again. She peered through the telescope.
"Like you said, they were just watching and now they're gone. No need to be scared!"
Yay.
Straight to the Demon Realm like this!
But luck wasn't on her side. After sailing a while longer, she spotted something odd.
A pirate ship was chasing an airship far ahead in the sky, and the airship was fleeing.
Huh?
That airship looks familiar.
Upon closer look, it was the academy airship she'd seen docked at the academy harbor. An academy vessel.
Gasp.
"Demon! Demon! Innocent victim! W-We have to help! They need help bad!"
Pastel stammered.
Her hands trembled.
Eek, pirates.
My life where I have to throw myself into danger to save people.
The demon watched the chase impassively.
"Ignore them."
What?
"Expecting rescue from a kid would be presumptuous. Don't invite needless danger. Your life is long."
Eh?
Totally demonic advice!
Pastel's mind reeled in confusion.
Sh-Should I run? But people are in danger—is that okay?
The survival instincts that saved her at the mansion and guided her in every fight peeked out.
Yeah, but pirates are scary for real.
I haven't done anything wrong...
Her conscience prickled.
Is this life's dilemma?
Eek.
Life's too hard, Pastel...!
What do you do when survival says no but conscience says yes?
What to believe? What to do?
Truth was, no agonizing was needed.
The observed airship came flying straight at them at full speed.
Eh.
The distance closed rapidly.
"Even if they adjust speed, collision's inevitable. Grip the railing tight."
Right after, the two airships grazed and collided. A roar echoed. The impact rocked and shook the ship.
"Eeeek!"
Pastel clung to the railing. Her body nearly flew off before bouncing up.
"Whoooaaa!"
Pastel flies!
As the shock faded, Pastel rolled across the deck. Her pink hair tangled messily.
Groooan.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
The demon transformed into a magic sword.
"Good. Then prepare for battle."
Pastel gripped the sword and staggered to her feet.
Life's too hard.
A mage burst hurriedly from the now-adjacent airship's deck. He was alone; no one else.
The shield-bearing mage rushed over to their side.
Pastel's eyes went wide.
"P-Professor?!"
Professor Horace.
Top guy on the semester report.
She'd bumped into him a few times while researching the semester report before departure.
"Marquess, Pastel? Alone?"
The flustered Horace scanned around.
"Just me. You too?"
"Tch, sorry about this."
The airship shook again suddenly.
"Whoa!"
The pirate ship arrived. Planks hooked over the railing. Pirates drew weapons and crossed the planks.
"Tch."
Horace pulled out his staff-like wand. He handed the shield to Pastel.
"Cover me! Just buy time!"
"Y-Yes!"
Pastel held the shield and magic sword, standing in front of Horace.
Cover fire?
How do you do cover fire?
A dazed thought passed.
Kill them all?
Sounds right but also not.
Suddenly the professor swung his wand.
"Sixteen strokes."
Flames surged. They split and divided into sixteen projectiles.
The wand roughly pointed at the pirates.
Fiery bullets flew in droves. They struck the pirate ship, exploded on pirates. Pirates crossing planks plummeted to the ground. Screams rang out.
Meanwhile, the wand traced a spell and paused.
"Sixteen strokes."
Fresh fiery bullets charged. The planks exploded, shoving pirates back to their ship.
Eh.
Pastel realized.
Aha.
Mages are cheats.
Then a few pirates leaned on their railing and drew single-shot rifles.
The professor's face paled as he shouted.
"Cover!"
Aha.
Even mages die to one bullet.
Gunshots rang out in chain.
Iron bullets sliced through the air.
Pastel raised the shield. With swift moves, she blocked each bullet's path. Bullets ricocheted, sparking.
"Whoa! All of them?! That's a sure win!"
The professor exclaimed in admiration.
As he said, the pirates who fired a few shots realized this wasn't some lame mage shieldwork and gave up, retreating to their ship.
Pastel's jaw dropped. She turned to Horace.
This is the machine gun owner?
Gaze of respect~.
Professor Horace wiped sweat from his brow.
"Normally a few spells beforehand would've made them back off easy, but since that didn't work this time, we nearly had trouble. Thanks, Pastel."
"I didn't do much!"
Whoaaa.
This is a machine gun in action?
Real combat really drives it home.
Then the demon spoke quietly.
Hm, this professor's suspicious. Pretty risky for a non-archmage to travel alone, right? What's his business in the Demon Realm?
Huh.
Demon's suspecting needless stuff.
But a good disciple obeys her master.
"Professor, heading to the Demon Realm? Shall we link up and sail together?"
"Oh, you will?"
"Sure! But what's your business there? Isn't it dangerous alone?"
Professor Horace paused at the innocent question. Subtle tension crossed his face.
"Visiting for investigation to aid smooth academic research for current students. A professor can't balk at danger for studies."
Huh.
Sounds like official business I've heard before?
Hmm?
Pastel tilted her head.
Horace's eyes twitched faintly.
Hmm?
Totally suspicious.
"I see."
Pastel nodded. Then she spun around quick.
"Gonna check out your airship, Professor!"
Footsteps pattered away.
Wheee!
"W-Wait! Pastel, hold on! I have something to say!"
Ignoring the professor's hasty pursuit, she crossed to his airship. She dashed through the interior at light speed to the cargo hold.
"Heave-hooo!"
She flung open the hold door.
What she saw: hold stuffed full of trade goods.
Gasp.
Pastel's jaw dropped.
Eek.
Smuggling...!
Evil crime...!
The professor arrived panting heavily.
"Mi-Misunderstanding! Totally not! Just picked up by chance on the way! Picked 'em up!"
"How do you pick up stuff by chance in the sky!"
Caught off-guard, Pastel yelled back rapid-fire.
"I never even dreamed of such wicked deeds! Professor! As an upright student council, I can't forgive smuggling! Absolutely! No way!"
She flung one arm high repeatedly.
"Down with smuggling! Down with smuggling!"
The student council, with zero ties to smuggling, steps up!
"No, no! Wait a sec! Perfect misunderstanding! I can explain! Give me a moment!"
"Spit it out, you wicked criminal!"
"Listen! Truly picked up by chan—"
Professor Horace sweated through his excuses, then paused. His professor-level smarts seemed to conjure wild possibilities.
The professor gave her a strange look.
"But why are you traveling alone?"
"Down with smuggling! Down with smu—"
Gasp.
Pastel sucked in a breath.
The strange look intensified.
"W-Wellll."
Pastel whistled awkwardly.
Professor Horace changed expression and bolted.
"Curious about your airship! Mind if I take a look!"
Footsteps pattered.
Eek.
"Hold on! Professor! Professor! I have something to say!"
Pastel clung to the professor. He ignored her and ran straight to her cargo hold.
The hold door flew open.
What he saw: hold stuffed full of smuggled goods.
Eek.
The professor turned to Pastel.
"You...?"
Pastel whistled awkwardly.
"Picked 'em up on the way."
For real.
They were on clouds.
The professor's eyes changed.
"Not your first time, huh?"
Gasp, totally busted.
This is professor brainpower?
Eek.
Top-note-taking Pastel can't keep up!
The professor approached with a beaming smile.
"Not my first either!"
Gasp?
What?
The professor grabbed her shoulders.
"This must be fate bestowed by the gods!"
Sparkling eyes approached.
"Student council and professor! Professor and student council! Together, we can become gods of smuggling!"
Pastel's eyes went wide.
Gasp.
God of smuggling...?
Her heart thumped.
Can I... become a smuggling god?
The demon's voice rang out.
What the hell's this guy proposing to a kid.
When the righteous student council met the innocent professor.
The Demon Realm ally Preston gang was anything but peaceful.
Preston sat in his chair, sweating bullets. Sweat dripped down his chin. The drop flew through air before bouncing off a blade.
"When's the boss coming?"
The swordsman who'd wiped out the Preston gang alone held a blade to his throat.
"I'm the boss."
"Bullshit."
The blade pressed closer to his neck. A drop of blood beaded.
"Not asking about a figurehead like you. Talking about the girl who massacred thirty alone. Near quasi-knight level, right?"
Preston felt deeply wronged.
No, it's my gang.
Fully digesting the ever-growing smuggled goods wasn't easy. He needed to bulk up the organization.
So he'd absorbed minor fringe groups to expand.
Originally, no plans for such rapid growth. Too risky.
But after that mad slaughter and a "please take care going forward," he couldn't hold back.
And sure enough, trouble: a rival minor group had recklessly hired a quasi-knight level.
No, a mercenary stalled at the quasi-knight wall.
Either way, dangerous foe for a young girl.
The blade moved threateningly. Blood trickled along the edge.
Preston forced a smile.
"Dunno when boss'll show. If you wanna meet, it'll be a long wait."
The pondering swordsman sheathed his blade.
The sword slammed roughly into the table.
The swordsman sat on the opposite sofa, leg crossed.
"Then I'll wait."
Please don't come.
Stay at school like a good student.
Preston prayed fervently.