HTACS 25

Chapter 25

Breaking news: Eve declares “I don’t know Kelterus.” Scandal: Has she given up on being the heroine?

“…Wait a minute. You really don’t know him? Kelterus?”

“Yes. I don’t know him.”

How did this happen?

Eve was definitely keeping an eye on Kelterus from the very beginning.

Why? Where was the foreshadowing?

Even if Kelterus didn’t take the Magic Department route, there was never a case where Eve didn’t show interest in him…

“But isn’t he the first-year representative?”

“Yes. I was a representative too, you know? It’s not that impressive, is it?”

“His stats aren’t outstanding?”

Considering that Kelterus’s stats are all clustered around 15 on the common department standard, that’s plenty impressive…

“Only 15. That’s not even past the wall, is it?”

“……”

She’s right.

Talent is truly cruel—15 is just someone with talent. 16 stands out. 17 is called the limit of ordinary humans. From 18 onward, you earn the right to surpass the limit.

Just as Rudika’s agility, Aila’s and Eve’s mana are at 19—enough to be called unparalleled geniuses—

And Wolfram’s stamina of 2 is barely enough to trade blows with Eastern Forest bean beetles for life.

That’s why Kelterus’s early stats of 15 were so middling.

It’s only natural that Eve wouldn’t show interest.

But Kelterus was able to surpass his own limits, and after countless adventures, he became a genius comparable to Eve herself.

However, upon reflection, it’s strange. Why would Eve, who proclaimed meritocracy, show interest in Kelterus from the start?

He was just a commoner boy with stats of only 15.

My question was soon resolved.

“If.”

“Hm?”

“If a boy named Kelterus showed the ability to break through Aila Triesta’s mana of 19 with his strength of 15, I might have been astonished.”

“…Ah.”

I see. In the original, during the training sparring session, Eve sensed that there was “something” in Kelterus.

And now…

There’s nothing.

Completely gone. Thoroughly destroyed. It doesn’t exist at all. It’s just not there.

And the reason is—

Because Wolfram advised, “Aila, be careful of the charge”!

“Anyway, I’ll take the doughnuts. And since I, the current student council president, came personally, customers will probably feel more comfortable coming from now on. Got it?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“You should be grateful that this is the best consideration I can give you—to someone who wasn’t expelled for failing grades and didn’t tarnish the Imperial family’s honor. Hmph. Say thank you. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey. Wolfram. …Excuse me. Are you listening?”

“Huh? Yeah. Got it. Okay. What did you say?”

“……I said go eat shit.”

I was lost in thought, and no matter what Eve said beside me, I answered half-heartedly.

But what did she say?

She sure has a foul mouth.

After Eve left, I sank into thought again.

“If the main story diverges so much from the beginning, how far should I assume it’s changed?”

With that worry, the sad smile of a red-haired boy flashed through my mind.

Kelterus.

Sorry. I’m pretty sure I’m the one who destroyed the Magic Department route for you.

“The main story will be harder to follow… but what’s done is done.”

No, really, I’m sorry.

I didn’t expect this to happen either.

But, well, you know.

Even if it’s twisted, you’ll have to endure it. What can you do? Right?

—

The next morning, at dawn.

Even though it was the weekend, Nephti came looking for me.

“What brings you here? It’s the weekend, so there’s no part-time stall work.”

“…Is that so. Truly unfortunate. Then, may I have a meal?”

The context doesn’t match, you brat.

“The Knight Department has free meals… wait, isn’t cafeteria food free for all academy students? You could eat breakfast, and I remember they serve on weekends too.”

“Yes, that’s correct. But… well, I don’t know about the Magic Department, but the Knight Department is a bit different.”

Oh, this seems to be another part that differs from the game.

“Explain. Depending on your explanation, if you can convince me, I might give you a few of the leftover doughnuts from yesterday.”

“…I’ll do my best to explain. First, it’s true that the Knight Department’s cafeteria is free. Exactly—lunch is free. For other meals, you have to apply. It costs money.”

“Then couldn’t you just wait until lunch?”

“But it’s not that you can just go in and eat unlimitedly—they give you meal tickets. With those tickets, they serve you exactly a fixed portion.”

“Meal tickets?”

“Think about it. If it were a buffet, you can’t even imagine how much those Knight Department brats who move their bodies every day would eat. So each ticket gives an exact fixed portion. They use magical engineering measuring devices to weigh it precisely. That’s the Knight Department’s cafeteria. But it tastes good. The portions aren’t that small either. So…”

“So?”

“Meal tickets sell for a pretty decent price within the Knight Department.”

“So you sold all of them, is what you’re saying.”

“…Putting all that together, I remit money home at the beginning of each month.”

Nephti bowed her head deeply.

I couldn’t help but sigh.

“If a couple of leftover doughnuts and some strawberry bean iced tea are fine, eat up.”

“I will definitely repay this favor!”

Yeah.

Do you even know how many favors you owe me now?

—

While Nephti was scarfing down doughnuts and smiling idiotically while happily drinking iced tea, I recalled what I needed to do and immediately got to work.

I wrote letters on a wooden board with a pencil, erased them, and wrote again and again.

I felt satisfied seeing the letters gradually become cleaner, but sometimes I felt like splitting the board in half thinking “this isn’t it.” As I continued this agony and refinement, Nephti came closer and asked.

“What are you doing?”

“Practicing skills and stats.”

“…Is that what you call it?”

In Zephrin—no, in D/Z SAGA—there are several ways to raise stats. Representatively, you gain bonus stats when acquiring “high-level skills.” Next is equipment like my gloves of balance. Then clearing achievements. And… repetitive actions.

By infinitely repeating a single action, you can slightly affect your stats. It’s close to grinding and you barely feel the effect, but it definitely goes up.

“Ah, stat increases through repetitive actions… Yes. I know it exists.”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

I’m aiming for the following stat increases through “writing letters prettily” on the wooden board. Obviously, first is agility. Next is willpower for writing pretty letters satisfactorily. And lastly, stamina from holding a pencil and writing something.

“…Does stamina actually go up from that?”

“Hmph.”

It will, right?

It has to go up, right?

Or else I’m going to be very disappointed.

Even this alone is a triple benefit. But I added one more plan to this.

“So what are you writing?”

“Letters for a signboard.”

“A signboard?”

“The signboard to hang on this convenience store. Obviously the doughnuts and snacks are incredibly delicious, but customers don’t come because they don’t know where this place is. That must be one reason.”

“That’s true.”

“That’s why I’m making a signboard that’s as eye-catching as it is neat, and practicing the letters to write on its design.”

“That doesn’t improve the location, though.”

Nephti’s words seemed cold at first glance, but it was a very accurate point.

However.

“Does that mean I shouldn’t find better means? Do everything you can. Complaints come after.”

“…That’s true. Honestly, I’m impressed. So the rumors that Wolfram-nim is the embodiment of embezzlement and manipulation, and the student council president who nearly ruined the academy, were misunderstandings?”

“No, I did do that.”

“……”

What can I do. I am Wolfram now, and I have to accept that too.

“Anyway, if you have nothing to do, go back and practice. Or go look for some edible weeds.”

“Hmm. That’s a very reasonable and efficient way to spend a weekend, but I’ll help.”

“Help?”

“Yes. With making the signboard. I may not look it, but my agility is 14. I’m fairly talented. My stamina is good too, so I think I could be useful when actually making the signboard. Ah, of course I can do it unpaid today.”

It was a truly good proposal and a grateful one, but…

“It’s my job to do.”

“Hmm. If my skills aren’t trustworthy, how about subcontracting?”

“Things I can do, I must do myself. Even if my strength is lacking, even if the letters come out crooked—in the end, that becomes the foundation for my growth. If I can write better letters, I might grow to the level of official documents; if my meticulousness increases, I might be able to make finer accessories.”

“…You do it alone.”

“Doing it is hard. Effort is hard, but getting the opportunity to put in effort is also hard to come by.”

That was my life as Lee Young-jin. I was born an orphan, and I never had the chance to study.

Obtaining is valuable, and effort is noble—but the opportunity to put in effort is not given to everyone.

“So this is my opportunity. Do you understand, Nephti?”

“Haha. Yes, I understand. I almost stole Wolfram-nim’s opportunity to work hard. That would have been unworthy of a knight.”

“Then step back. I’m busy.”

“May I watch from beside you?”

“Do you have nothing better to do?”

“Watching someone work hard is quite an enjoyable pastime.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Yes. I’ll suit myself.”

Saying that, Nephti sat beside me with a grin.

And then she just watched me repeat the action of writing ever more neat letters on the wooden board.

Glancing over, she was just wearing a gentle smile.

Are my letters that amusing to look at?

—

Not long after writing letters for the signboard was added to my daily routine.

It was a day with no afternoon classes, so after lunchtime, I pulled the cart toward the first-year common department building.

Whether it was because Eve had come by once, the first-year fledglings started appearing in front of the cart occasionally.

But these fledglings were a bit cheeky—they started calling me by a strange name.

“Ah. Doughnut Senior. Hello.”

“It’s Doughnut Senior! Wow! You showed up today!”

“…Where did that nickname come from?”

The fledglings looked at each other, blinked, and chattered.

“President Eve said we could call you casually.”

“Yes. She said we could treat you like a normal, easygoing senior.”

“Except for the student council president, all students in Zephrin have equal rank. But calling you by name or family name felt a bit much, so…”

So Doughnut Senior it is.

I feel like I’ll have a life-or-death showdown with Eve someday.

Fine. How dare you, a mere Imperial family register mate, throw the first punch like this?

“Um, is it not okay to call you that?”

“Wolfram von Lohengrin…?”

“Call me whatever you like. So, what’s your order?”

“Y-yes! I’ll have one strawberry and one fresh cream…”

And so the first-year fledglings bought doughnuts and started chattering.

Fortunately, they didn’t run away like before but chatted while eating in front of the cart, so just by listening, I could pick up information about the first-year academy life.

And among that, there was information I wanted to hear.

“Speaking of which, I heard that thing’s appearing in the dormitory?”

“That thing? …Ah, that. The ghost?”

“Yeah. Have you seen it?”

“Come on, ghosts don’t exist! It was written in the pamphlet—’Zephrin, where all mysteries dwell! Why not make your life’s graph rise mysteriously too?'”

Was that really written in the pamphlet? What a world.

“But… if all those mysteries gather, wouldn’t there be ghosts too?”

“…You think so? I suppose that’s possible.”

Hmm, ghosts, huh.

That ghost both exists and, for me, was a nostalgic and longing word.

“Finally, the start of Act 1, Chapter 1.”

The dormitory ghost commotion.

It was a beautiful Act 1 where Eve and Kelterus joined forces to solve it.

Yes.

Eve and Kelterus. The two of them joining forces…

“Uh…”

Wait.

Is there even a basis for them to join forces?