Defend the Magic Pants Mass Production Factory (1)
Though I took a brief detour into another topic, someone might question what we're doing right now.
Isn't this lecture time?
Correct. It's the middle of the day with the sun high in the sky, a weekday lecture hour. Yet the scene unfolding in this classroom resembles factory workers churning out products on an assembly line.
It has to be that way. We're actually processing raw materials, packaging them, stacking them neatly in boxes for delivery—mass-producing identical items.
If someone asks, "How is this a class?" I can confidently say it's a perfectly valid lesson.
"Rydmila, Evangeline. Could you two please stop suddenly turning Mana Skins into magic bikinis instead of magic pants?"
"Eek."
"Th-that's not what we're doing!"
Rydmila and Evangeline flinched like kids caught goofing off in class.
"F-First off, this is magic training time!"
Evangeline shot back defiantly, pointing to the bold letters scrawled on the blackboard.
Mana Stone Refining Technique.
One branch of alchemy that transforms a single mana stone using personal mana to forge it into a new form.
First-year academy students aim to shape pebbles into hexagonal gems as their lecture goal, but our special class is a bit different.
"It is magic training time, but didn't we agree to make magic pants? That's so I can infuse them with the Jerque technique."
I pointed to the basket overflowing toward me from the two of them.
"What? Or do you want the Jerque technique engraved on bikinis instead?"
"Shouldn't it be the Lactation Cycle technique?"
Unia pushed over a basket piled high with completed magic pants.
"Looks like both of them have been floating on cloud nine ever since they heard about the Lactation Cycle."
"Yeah, seems that way."
I'd normally have noticed right away, but I was too focused on infusing the Jerque technique into these magic pants for the male undergrads.
"We've hit today's delivery quota anyway. How about switching products for the remaining time and trying magic bikinis?"
"Is that allowed?"
"Dean Ederson was the one who limited our daily production quota."
I gestured to the boxes packed with magic pants.
"He said the male students are focusing so hard on studies now that we're supplying these as rewards— the instructors are raving about it."
What had the instructors worried about remote classes? Concentration.
In a classroom, sharing the same space forces focus through sheer proximity. But in the dorms, alone in their rooms? Minds wander, lectures become background noise for other distractions.
"They also reacted well to the pop quizzes on lecture content. Well, not 'well' exactly—more like, 'Fine, I'll snag first place and score an extra pair of magic pants.' That kind of grit."
"Ahaha..."
"Since they feel like underwear, guys can't just stick to one pair forever."
Cleaning magic keeps them spotless, sure. But it's a mood thing, and air-drying washed magic pants in your dorm room? Recipe for paranoia.
Currently, there's a rare phenomenon in the academy's male dorms: the "long-term disappearance" of certain items.
Thanks to that, Student Council President Julius Keiar suddenly had to patrol the guys' dorms, inspecting crotches to check if magic pants thefts were triggering... reactions. But it shows just how hyped the male students are for magic pants.
Their lecture focus? Skyrocketing. When it's about your interests, concentration comes naturally.
"Magic bikinis."
*Twitch.*
Just like Rydmila and Evangeline right now, ears perking up.
"Shall we try making some?"
"Ahem."
"W-well, if you really want to..."
"N-no, that's not it."
As I subtly backed away, Rydmila and Evangeline straightened up, glaring at me.
"Fellow student Phoenix. We've discussed magic theory—don't you think we should verify if it's actually feasible?"
"I thought that came from Unia, Miss Rydmila."
"I'm speaking for Unia as well, aren't I?"
"Hmm... Should we go with that?"
"Unia?"
Rydmila shot Unia a betrayed look, but then bit her lower lip, eyeing Unia's mana pouch.
"Phoenix. Don't you think my talent with mana means I could feed kids without issue?"
"Triplets—no, quintuplets would be a breeze with your build."
"Then, wearing a milk cow bikini here and activating the Lactation Cycle? Septuplets, easy."
"Can't say it's impossible. Even if other kids whine from hunger, breast milk gets pumped into bottles ahead of time anyway."
"Hey, how do you know so much? Have you had kids or something?"
"Too late once you've already given birth. Better study up in advance."
Evangeline raised suspicions, but I deflected smoothly and extended my hand.
"Let's start with one for Unia."
"W-wait—"
*Flash.*
"Ta-da. Here."
I refined a milk cow bikini from the production materials prepared for Unia.
"Hold on. This isn't a bikini."
"I called it a bikini for convenience, but it doesn't have to be bikini-shaped."
Unfurling the lower half revealed a Holstein leotard swimsuit—something only the truly committed could wear.
"What do you think?"
"Hard to wear in front of others."
Unia took the Holstein leotard swimsuit with a calm expression and stood.
"I'll try it in my room later. Can you check the size then?"
"U-Unia?"
"Why?"
Rydmila called out in panic, but Unia shrugged and draped the Mana Skin over her body.
"I'll be raising kids someday anyway, so might as well get everything ready. Right, Phoenix?"
"Unia's kids are lucky. They'll feel her warmth all over."
"Could even have the husband check beforehand—see if it's healthy enough for the babies."
"......Good lord."
Evangeline covered her face with her hands.
"Is the academy really okay with this? Hey, Instructor Cardisha. Is all this fine?"
"What's wrong with a milk cow bikini?"
"Instructor?"
"You'll end up doing way more exposed stuff once you get a boyfriend or husband. Especially then."
With the instructor herself intrigued by milk cow bikinis, Evangeline was at a loss for words.
"...Phoenix."
Rydmila called my name with a resolute face.
"Does it have to be a milk cow bikini?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, if it's about clothing form, couldn't it be something everyday like a tank top or leggings?"
"Not impossible."
I subtly passed a milk cow bikini to Evangeline.
"Just needs more mana to weave fabric. A bit more time and effort."
"In that case..."
"Sorry to interrupt."
Instructor Cardisha removed her glasses with a serious tone.
"We're under attack."
"Attack...?"
"An angel?"
The special class girls instantly shifted to combat stance, prompting a wry smile from Instructor Cardisha.
"Attack... or maybe extortion."
"??"
"Student Phoenix? Got a question for you."
Instructor Cardisha manipulated a panel, unfolding a magic screen in midair, then zoomed it in massively, pointing ahead.
"If you were selling magic pants, how much would you price them at?"
"......Us?"
"Silverstar?"
The screen, zoomed to 65 inches, displayed the old school building's entrance: a lone golden carriage emblazoned with the Silverstar crest.
"That's..."
"Well, damn."
I couldn't help but clap at the sight of the girl in a frilly dress, her pale platinum blonde hair gleaming.
"Never thought I'd see a mana pouch like that at Esdinas Academy."
"P-Phoenix...?"
"Not a student, obviously. And definitely not faculty. Instructor Cardisha? Is that who I think it is?"
"You know her?"
"Yeah. I do."
I turned to Unia.
"Unia. Remember those meals at the south terminal?"
"Yes."
"We griped about how pricey they were."
"Yes. ...Wait, is that...?"
"That's the president of Silverstar Merchant Group's hotel division—not just hotels, she oversees other sectors too."
"An AAA-grade executive in Silverstar's 'Seven Stars.'"
Her dress plunged straight down from neck to abdomen like a sheer cliff.
Alheina Silverstar.
The one who couldn't even enroll at the academy.
And Yurha Silverstar's greatest rival.
Because Alheina envies Yurha.
Reason? Being someone who "couldn't even enroll" says it all.
"Instructor Cardisha? Is Silverstar trying to buy up Phoenix's Mana Skins... magic pants?"
Evangeline asked outright, voice laced with wariness.
"No."
Rydmila answered.
"More like 'control' them."
"Control...?"
"Yes. To them, Phoenix's actions must seem utterly incomprehensible."
"I get it."
A product that grows to 17cm with prolonged wear and effort. Someone would gladly pay 100 million per pair—even on a 10-year installment plan.
"Selling these would make us filthy rich."
And right now, we're basically giving them away for free to academy guys.
"Phoenix. ...What do we do?"
"What else?"
Obviously.
"We sell."
We'll sell, alright.
"We can't sit here cranking these out forever."
To outfit the entire world's men with magic pants—with 17cm—we need massive factories.
"But."
The buyers?
"Not someone who looks like they'd starve a baby."
I decide.
"Senior Yurha could easily feed triplets and then some."
Of course.
Doesn't mean we ignore her entirely.
If it's a beauty who might starve kids?
Just raise her capacity to feed them properly. Problem solved.