Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: The Magic Tower Genius Hides Physics
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After Calculus, a massive sum of money had suddenly appeared. To handle it, I needed an expert.
I wondered if Hans could help.
That's why I headed to the mercenary guild.
The guild lobby reeked of sweat and beer.
I leaned over the counter and asked,
"Excuse me, I'm here to see Hans."
The one-eyed mercenary at the counter eyed me up and down.
"This ain't a place for fancy noble brats. Scram."
Not an orphan, but a noble brat? It had been a while since I'd gotten such warm treatment.
'Looks like they speak a different language around here.'
Words wouldn't work. Time to communicate with force.
I pointed at the stuffed deer head on the counter.
"How much for that?"
"What're you gonna do with it?"
"What do you think?"
P₁V₁γ = P₂V₂γ
I rapidly compressed the air inside the stuffing, then released it.
Bang!
The deer head exploded, and every eye in the place turned to me.
I smiled at the mercenary.
"It was an accident, so I'll compensate you. Throw in a tip if you just tell me where Hans is."
"Got it... sir."
Now we were speaking the same language.
A moment later, a man emerged from the shadowy back of the lobby.
"I thought you were only good at popping orc heads. Didn't know you could do deer too."
"Hans!"
"Long time no see, milord."
Hans had become the leader of a small mercenary company since we'd last met.
We moved to the darkest corner of a nearby tavern, swapping stories over drinks before I got to the real reason for my visit.
"...So, I need to launder about 100,000 gold a week."
Once I'd explained, Hans gulped down his honey mead with a sour look on his face.
Was it impossible?
As I pondered who else might help, he finally spoke.
"Milord. Skip the business talk—I want some juicy gossip."
"...Like what?"
"Romance. Anything heart-pounding, like secret meetings with a count's youngest daughter?"
"...I did tutor the count's only daughter at her villa."
Hans's eyes lit up.
"Spill the details!"
"Business first."
"Tch."
He smacked his lips in disappointment.
Soon enough, he switched back to a serious expression and gave his advice.
"Milord, rushing dirty money like this always leads to trouble. Give me a month, and I'll set up a clean operation."
"Anything I can do to help in the meantime?"
"Hmm... Just work on getting closer to that girl in the Magic Tower."
More nonsense. Even as a mercenary captain, Hans was still Hans.
That night, we drank until we could barely speak.
The next morning, I woke with a pounding headache.
No more honey mead. Ever.
With help from my roommate Liam, I made it down to the dining hall.
"Sorry about this, Liam."
"We all help each other out."
"Can't magic cure hangovers?"
"I've heard of some ancient spell that does, but... want me to look into it?"
"Does it strengthen the liver, or reinforce the blood-brain barrier?"
"Pardon?"
"Nothing."
Tiredness makes me ramble.
Today's menu was beef stew.
It looked tasty, but no way it'd cure this hangover.
'Wish I had some haejangguk...'
"Liam, think you could grab some chili peppers or paprika powder from the alchemy lab?"
"...Buy them? Research supplies?"
Thud.
I plunked a bulging leather pouch of gold coins on the table.
"Let me know if it's not enough."
A bit later, I dumped the paprika powder and dried chilies Liam had bought into my stew.
Seeing it turn bright red calmed me down.
I scooped up a heaping spoonful of the fiery stew and shoved it in my mouth.
Spicy.
But the deep meaty flavor hit too, sending hot energy down my throat.
Sweat started pouring like rain.
"Yes, this is a hangover cure."
"..."
Liam stared at me, dumbfounded.
"Curious?"
"A little."
I passed him a spoonful of my 'Isaac-style haejangguk'.
"Gah! Ack! What the hell is this?!"
Tears and snot streaming, Liam kept shoveling it in.
Oh ho. He was holding up?
He said,
"It's weird. My stomach's settling as I sweat... and it's kinda addictive?"
"...Liam. You've got a Korean soul."
That day, I spiked Liam's stew with chilies too.
He seemed to like it.
Probably.
With my gut settled, I finally noticed the atmosphere around me.
Something was off in the Magic Tower.
Everyone was buzzing with excitement?
The grad students, who should have been soulless zombies, had a strange gleam in their eyes.
I asked Liam,
"What's going on in the Tower lately?"
"Sluuuurp... Hah..."
Liam wasn't in any shape to answer.
...Too spicy?
I got a glass of milk from the cafeteria lady and handed it over.
Only after he chugged it could we talk.
"Lord Valerius's new theory has everyone in a frenzy."
"Oh?"
They'd said the theory usage fee would be around 100,000 gold.
Clearly, it was making waves.
"My research workload just doubled!"
"..."
Was that good?
Fine for Liam, but bad for his turtle-neck posture.
Liam gushed on, eyes shining.
Nobles investing more...
The Imperial Court starting new ventures...
The Dean challenging Valerius's thesis defense...
"Wait... thesis defense?"
Liam nodded vigorously.
"Rumor is, the Dean and Lord Valerius had their 'defense' on the peak of the northern snow mountains."
"..."
"They say the mountain collapsed, but I can't buy that."
'Is a thesis defense just a full-on magic duel in this world?'
Amazing.
As I parted ways with Liam and left the cafeteria, a familiar voice drifted from the lecture hall.
"So here, you need to integrate to get the most accurate value."
Gwendolyn's voice. She must be doing a calculus study session with other students.
Hold on.
Come to think of it, Gwendolyn was a noble... and rich...
Across history, nobles and the wealthy always wanted to stay off the central authority's radar.
They probably knew all about laundering money.
I waited for the lecture to end and approached her.
"Gwendolyn, you wouldn't happen to know how to handle taxes, would you?"
"Huh? The Tower deducts them at source from all gold payments."
"Oh. Good info."
"Right?"
But that wasn't what I wanted to know. I needed laundering routes.
Gwendolyn spoke up.
"Not sure why you're asking, but my uncle's the Imperial Tax Collector General. Need an introduction?"
"Uh... no thanks."
Felt like I'd stepped on a landmine.
One wrong word, and tax collectors might swarm.
As I tried to slip away, her eyes flashed.
"Wait, Isaac! Taxes... total revenue changes by tax rate... couldn't we use calculus to find the 'optimal tax rate'?!"
She bolted to the blackboard and started scribbling equations.
I quietly escaped.
Crazy people everywhere.
I fled to my 'little personal lab'.
'I already taught Senior Giuseppe calculus, so he shouldn't freak out, right?'
Good thing I'd given him a head start.
But as always, reality betrayed my expectations.
"Junior! Perfect timing! Take a look at this."
"Huh?"
Giuseppe handed me a thick stack of parchment.
"What's this?"
"A commission from the Imperial Court. They want us to update the standard fireball trajectory charts using 'calculus'."
"...They specifically requested our school?"
"No way. It's an open commission. Thanks to you teaching me calculus, we jumped on it right away. Much obliged."
"...Don't mention it."
I eyed the blackboard filled with differential equations.
Traces of research to modernize trajectories.
Without fluid dynamics knowledge, it'd have limits, but way more precise than the old rule-of-thumb charts.
I pointed at the board.
"...Third line, the sign's flipped. It's plus, not minus."
"Ah! Nearly missed that. Thanks."
"..."
Giuseppe's face glowed with pure scholarly joy.
But I couldn't smile.
I hadn't expected the Imperial Court to react this fast.
'Doesn't this world have crimes like lèse-majesté?'
Authoritarianism and innovation don't mix.
Human history proves it.
Yet here they were, embracing new theory at lightning speed.
'Because they're at war?'
Still too fast.
This pace suggested they'd read the Calculus paper ahead of time and prepared.
My crisis-avoidance instincts, honed by years of grad school grilling, screamed a warning.
Something was off.
That evening, as I left the lab for the dorms, the usually quiet central hall of the Magic Tower buzzed with unusual commotion.
"Quite a crowd..."
Something on the bulletin board?
I turned toward the source of the noise: the central bulletin board.
Dozens of grad students crowded around it, murmuring.
As I started to pass by, an unmistakable voice caught my ear.
"Magic Survey School? Weren't they kicked to the annex?"
...Why was our school the topic?
I pushed through the crowd.
There it was: a massive poster stamped with the Imperial eagle seal.
Recipients:
The murmurs swelled like waves.
-"Giuseppe Garneri? That eternal PhD candidate?"
-"No way... Even a newbie's name is on there!"
I was dumbfounded.
Why was this happening...?
Had Valerius broken the NDA?
Blood rushed to my head.
I bolted straight to Valerius's lecture hall.
Bam!
I kicked the door open and shouted at him.
"Care to explain?! What the hell is this?!"
"...Have some tea first. I'll explain slowly."
Valerius, as if he'd expected me, offered a steaming cup of tea.