I'll Go on Strike
I'll Go on Strike
There was one thing Professor Herlein had overlooked when she tried to get me into the library.
"You must present a student or faculty ID."
"Will a personal slave do?"
"Not unless she's registered with the academy."
I belonged to Professor Haspelt, not to the academy itself. After the guard told me to try another office if that didn't work, I went to the academic affairs team.
And they said.
"Legally, slaves are not recognized as persons."
"So?"
"Issuing a temporary pass is also impossible."
This was fucking outrageous. Weren't libraries supposed to be open to all citizens?
Ah, right. I was a slave, lower than an ordinary citizen. I kept trying to think in terms of my original world, so nothing added up.
"Then it can't be helped. I'll go in alone, so wait here for a bit."
Professor Herlein said that and, not long after, reappeared with books and a male student.
No. Putting the book lending aside, why had she brought a random male student along?
"Sun—... Assistant!"
Red hair and crimson eyes. Lorwell. I didn't know his surname, but family names weren't required at the academy, so I could probably let it slide.
Lorwell also carried a few books in his arms. We bought something to drink, then sat at a nearby outdoor table. My gaze naturally drifted toward the books Herlein had brought.
The books were all different. Language, mathematics, history, magic, and so on. There were also books on alchemy, basic scroll writing, and the proper stances a mage should adopt in combat.
"Professor Herlein, are you acquainted with the assistant?"
"Assistant? Ah, right."
Herlein told me to look over the books, then replied to Lorwell's question.
"I am. I'm helping her get admitted."
"Admitted? Hadn't she already graduated?"
Lorwell seemed quite shocked. He'd thought I was an undergraduate graduate, apparently.
"Can't you tell by looking? You two are the same age."
"......"
Professor Herlein. Didn't I tell you just a few days ago that you shouldn't judge people by face value?
Oh dear, I hadn't told her!
"Anyway, Tillet's entrance exam is famously tough, isn't it?"
"The written part especially... is a bit much."
"The written exam being difficult is a long and venerable tradition. Something about how if your theory isn't solid, you'll also fall behind in real combat. Because of that, even if you do well on the practical, you can still fail. Anyway, this assistant here needs to build enough skill to pass within three months."
"Can that much studying... be finished in three months?"
At that question, Herlein extended a hand toward me. It wasn't to offer chocolate like last time; she was simply gesturing in my direction.
Receiving the gesture, Lorwell let out a short "Ah" of an exclamation.
"If it's the assistant, it might be entirely possible..."
"Not just possible, she'll shatter the ceiling. Even if top of the class is out of reach because of the practical, second place..."
"That's an immense amount of pressure."
Tillet Academy's entrance exam was hellfire incarnate.
They selected a few hundred at most, but hundreds of thousands applied. Besides commoners and freemen aiming for social advancement, nobles and royalty from every country were also competitors.
Since this country was on the front lines of the war against the magic beasts, the competition couldn't help but be fierce. Being told to pass among prodigies who played on an international scale—this wasn't normal difficulty. In terms of that other world, it was like being told to get into the Ivy League or Oxbridge.
"You've spent three years here, so you'd know. Tillet's entrance exam consists of a written test worth 400 points and a practical worth 100."
"The written part will be the key, then."
"I'm not so sure. The practical will be your hurdle. Your race can't use magic without Mana Cigarettes, right?"
"I heard we're allowed to smoke them during the combat magic exam."
"That's it exactly. If you fail to get a decent score there, you fail the whole thing."
There was a saying that the practical was graded on a near-absolute scale because everyone performed reasonably well. Perhaps because of that, the cutoff for failing was brutally tight. If you scored below 40 out of 100, you failed regardless of how well you did on the written exam.
There was a time I'd thought, what's so hard about getting 40 out of 100? But I'd realized it after seeing the examinees the year before last. Anyone with enough skill to score even 10 points on this school's practical could smash down the front gates of any other academy and still have power to spare.
"I suppose there's no point in a long speech. There are books the school recommends as reference, so look through them carefully and study. I'll personally guide your practical training later! Understood?"
"...Won't you get caught for exam corruption?"
"This is corruption? Why?"
"Well, I mean, if an admissions officer helps a student through personal connections..."
"You don't know, do you? All the nobles get in through back-channel assistance like that."
Right. This wasn't my original world.
I'd thought I'd completely adapted, but there was still a long way to go. I sighed and nodded at Herlein's words.
**
Time passed, and evening came.
When I returned after finishing the interview—or rather, the admissions consultation disguised as one—with Herlein, Professor Haspelt was waiting for me in the lab.
Her eyes weren't angry. Nor was she in a posture of building her rage gauge. But the number of Magic Papers she was holding made it certain she intended to grind me into the ground.
"Did your discussion with Herlein go well?"
"Yes."
"Then tell me what kind of conversation took so long."
A past exam question. I'd known for sure she'd ask this.
"She bought me something to eat."
Since I'd received a drink, it wasn't a lie.
"And also."
"We had a discussion about academics."
Since admissions were also academics, this too wasn't a lie.
"...I see. I can ask Meri for the details later. More importantly."
Thud—!
She slammed the bundle of Magic Paper she'd been holding onto the desk as if throwing it.
On the first sheet, an incomplete circuit had been drawn. In the brief space above it, the word 'Flare' was written.
The situation was similar to when she'd ordered me to write a scroll for the top-grade fire magic 'Chaser Flow,' but this was clearly a more difficult beast. This time it probably wasn't a request to copy a pre-existing scroll.
"Complete it. Within three months, if possible."
I could tell instinctively. This was impossible.
Not that I absolutely couldn't finish it within three months. If I researched while cutting back on sleep, I might somehow meet the deadline. The problem was, if I did this, I'd have no time left to prepare for the entrance exam.
The written exam wasn't just magic theory. I had to study four subjects total: language, mathematics, history. Mathematics I could handle, but I'd have to re-study the language and history.
Even conceding a hundred points and assuming the language would work out somehow because I'd received a language cheat as a perk of being isekai'd, what was I supposed to do about history? The thought of having to learn the modern and contemporary history of another world from scratch—something I'd never properly learned—made everything go dark before my eyes.
In the end, I'd have to give up on one. First, I replied that I understood and accepted the Magic Paper.
Of course, since the deadline was three months away, I'd take it easy...
I had no intention of doing it.
**
After that, the only thing Kleis asked Aether about was how to use the transistor. She had asked whether Aether had ever shown the transistor Magic Stone to a first-year, and since Aether had answered yes without hesitation, there was nothing to interrogate her about.
— I thought this method of informing you would be more intuitive than explaining it in words.
Aether had put it exactly that way. If Aether had calculated that far, she was more than just ordinarily brilliant. It meant she understood Kleis's entire train of action. Kleis had been about to say something, but ended the conversation with a nod.
She was making good use of the transistor Magic Stone she'd learned about from her assistant. Not just good use—she'd become so addicted to its appeal that she now used it as a substitute for other Magic Stones. Whenever she plugged it into a blocked part while writing a circuit, the problem resolved itself smoothly. Before she knew it, Kleis had come to regard this Magic Stone as a universal tool.
The transistor's mana conductivity was also far superior to that of other Magic Stones. Exploiting this, Kleis pooled all her knowledge and reached the level where even a beginner scroll could produce an output exceeding 70 Sieverts.
It was a truly fraudulent component. So much so that she wanted to buy a whole stockpile and hoard it.
"...Remarkable. It holds considerable value."
Only then did she realize. Why her assistant had urged her to purchase as many as possible.
Where there is demand, supply will surely follow. That was a fundamental law of the commodities market.
A Calamity-class magic beast wasn't something just anyone could hunt and dismantle. The quantity entering the market was bound to be limited.
In contrast, demand would increase exponentially day by day. The price skyrocketing out of control was already a foregone conclusion.
'Had she been looking ahead that far?'
Back when she hadn't known the use of this Magic Stone, she'd paid 100 gold coins, thinking at worst she'd break even. That was enough money to buy two ordinary slaves, and still more than enough to dine reasonably well at a five-star restaurant.
By the time Aether had returned to the dormitory, Kleis had finished preparing to go out to the market alone. When she went to her usual spot, a familiar face greeted her.
"Oh my! What brings Your Grace here at this late hour?"
"That top-grade Magic Stone. Do you have any in stock?"
"Just one bundle left, but..."
"How much?"
"Twenty gold coins. Ever since Your Grace came by last time, so many people have been looking to buy this that I had no choice but to raise the price."
For now, it was still fine. Although an inflation that multiplied the price twentyfold had occurred, compared to the value this Magic Stone held, it was still cheap.
Kleis, who'd been suffering from a lack of research funds, had for once executed an expenditure that made her bones ache.
"When will the next stock arrive?"
"At least a week, I expect."
"Why did the price jump so quickly?"
"Seems the rumor spread all over the capital in a day or two. Oh, now that I think of it, that gold-eyed slave you brought along last time was right after all!"
"If any stock comes in, please contact me first. If there's anyone willing to buy at a higher price than me, I'll always bid higher."
She had said that much, but in one corner of her mind, she was already considering departing for the Northern Continent.
— Why buy them, wasting money? You can just pick up low-grade Magic Stones from the back mountain.
Having told her assistant that, yet herself merely taking the supply hunted and provided by other mages—this was a double standard, to the point where she couldn't face Aether with a clear conscience.
'Though I didn't want to return to that hell...'
What wouldn't a mage do for a universal Magic Stone that could be used anywhere? Soon everyone would know the transistor's value. Next year, some professor might even put it on the academy's entrance exam.
Now that she thought about it, putting it on this year's exam might also be fine.
Kleis's internal perception of the transistor was largely positive. It was a jewel worth obtaining even if it meant shouldering the risk.
With this jewel alone, it felt as if she could surpass the limits of fire magic.
'In any case, I had to have at least the minimum countermeasure against an Extinction-class magic beast. Yes, if only I could complete Flare...'
Flare. The technique whose research she'd entrusted to her assistant as of today.
The basic circuit that constituted Flare had already been drawn up by Kleis. Even from the circuit's outline alone, she could predict how outstanding its destructive power would be.
The one problem was that if a scroll was overlaid on it in any manner, the Magic Paper might fail to withstand it and burst.
If only she could solve that, even a Calamity-class magic beast could be suppressed as easily as swatting a mosquito.
'She'd do well, as she always did.'
Because this might be the last help she ever received from her assistant.
Stoically concealing that wistfulness, Kleis turned her steps toward her own mansion.