HTACS 33

Chapter 33

And so, I fell asleep with the glowing signboard.

The next day. My stamina had recovered surprisingly well, so I went out for my morning sales as usual.

“Long time no see.”

“Zolf.”

“Yes. I caused a lot of trouble last time.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“…Thank you, Wolfram-nim.”

“More importantly, how are things going now?”

“Well, you see…”

From what I heard, Zolf was still continuing his research in Professor Babel Grace’s lab.

“…Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

No matter how I thought about it, being marked by the professor would surely cause enormous problems for his future lab life—but Zolf’s expression was calm.

“If things don’t work out, I’ll just get a job.”

“……”

Is that the spell breaking, or his mind breaking? I tilted my head, but Zolf just laughed it off.

“I’m joking. Lab life is getting a little easier.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you see.”

This is what Zolf said:

Eve von Lohengrin had submitted a proposal to the Imperial court for the improvement of graduate student human rights. The Ministry of Justice had given partial approval, and the rest was under review.

Upon investigating why such a petition had been submitted—

Professor Babel Grace’s name and the reality of the graduate lab had reached the ears of high-ranking officials.

So Professor Babel’s lab was under audit, and the professor was keeping a low profile. Uncharacteristically, she was looking after the graduate students. And if Zolf—the representative victim of this incident—were to give up on his doctorate and get a job, Professor Babel would be cornered.

“But there’s a time limit.”

“Yes. That’s correct. Once the audit period ends, the lab will go back to how it was as if nothing happened. But at least during this time, I can live in peace. A life where I’m guaranteed six hours of sleep.”

“I-I see.”

“Besides, now that it’s been made public, the professor will probably rush to graduate me for the sake of her reputation. She said she’d give me the first-round feedback on the graduation thesis I submitted last year within this week.”

“…I see.”

It seems he really had been treated like a pushover.

Zolf bowed his head deeply and expressed his gratitude.

“Thank you, Student Council President Wolfram.”

“…I’m not the student council president. I’m just an ordinary student. And you should thank Eve, not me.”

“No. I genuinely feel gratitude toward you, Ordinary Student Wolfram-nim. In that pitch-black darkness, when I longed for a doctoral certificate and a graduation ring—the words you spoke to me will stay in my heart.”

“…Tch. Saying unnecessary things. Go back to the lab.”

“Yes. I’ll go.”

Saying that, Zolf left.

Before leaving, Zolf left one more word.

“Wolfram-nim. I think this will be the first and last piece of advice I can give you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Even if you graduate from the undergraduate department next year—don’t go to graduate school. Absolutely, don’t go.”

“……”

“You have to protect your own human rights.”

Well now.

That’s convincing.

—

The 8T skill, Magical Pâtissier.

I don’t really want to say this, but I’ve actually obtained this skill as Kelterus before and used it as a main support skill.

The way to raise affection with Eve—the Magic Department heroine—was to prepare sweets for her, so I needed to make good pastries as gifts.

In-game, this skill’s efficiency is… truly peculiar.

Is it good or bad? As a utility skill, it has its uses—but the biggest problem was definitely the ‘inventory limit.’ The more pastries you make, the more your inventory fills up. By the mid-game, you stop using food items altogether. When other dishes and ingredients start mixing in, your inventory explodes and you stop making pastries.

But since I’ve obtained a high-tier skill, I should make use of it.

If the inventory seems like it’s going to explode, I just need to find people to offload it to.

I thought about handing it over to Nephti, but even Nephti has her limits as an individual, and Eve is too annoying to give anything to.

So the place I arrived at was here.

In front of the first-year common dormitory.

“Wow. It’s Doughnut Senior.”

“You’re selling today!”

“Hello…”

Three fledglings who frequently visit my cart.

Since I’d been able to get a sense of when 1-1 would start thanks to their chatter, I started preparing doughnuts on the spot.

“Here you go.”

“Uh, we didn’t order anything. Did you maybe fry them in advance because we come so often…?”

“U-um… Do I come that often? Really?”

When you spot a regular customer at the edge of your vision and fry a whole mozzarella in advance—that’s the hot dog shop owner’s spirit.

“We appreciate it, but it’s embarrassing, Senior!”

“…Right?”

…Something like that.

“No. Since you come often, it’s on the house.”

“Wow! As expected of Senior!”

“…Th-thank you.”

Saying that, the two started eating like starving demons. First-year appetites are scary.

The fledglings looked at each other and tilted their heads, and I gave no answer.

Actually, I know these fledglings.

To be precise, I have memories of recruiting them as allies in the game.

“I’ll have one more sugar doughnut!”

“…Can you eat that much?”

“I’ll be hammering later, so it’s fine!”

The bright and energetic Dwarven girl who frequently ordered sugar doughnuts—her name was Vanilla.

“Then I’ll have one more strawberry too.”

The quiet Elven girl who frequently ordered strawberry doughnuts—her name was Yogurt.

Together, they were the Vanilla Yogurt Duo.

What kind of names are Vanilla and Yogurt?

But that’s D/Z SAGA’s quality for you. A game that pays attention to details in odd places while shoving Easter eggs, strange memes, and niche tastes elsewhere.

Anyway, Vanilla the Dwarf works well as either a frontline fighter or a blacksmith. Yogurt can be built as an archer, spirit caller, or spirit archer.

Future regulars and decent first-years in-game. With proper training, they can reach up to Tier 3. They’re somewhat nostalgic characters too.

It’s definitely not that I’m feeding them free stuff now so they’ll help Wolfram if he’s ever in danger later. That’s the black-hearted intention—I mean, anyway.

I looked at the remaining fledgling and asked.

A child with a face that screams “I’m timid and gentle.”

Oddly, my memory of this one was vague. I don’t recall raising them directly, but I feel like I’ve seen them somewhere…

Who was it?

“What would you like?”

“…Ah. I, well… I’m not sure.”

“I see. Then I’ll make something for you.”

“Wh-what?”

Ignoring Fledgling No. 3’s answer, I skillfully made a doughnut on the spot and piped cream into it with a piping bag. The safest choices are chocolate or white cream, but since it’s going out for free anyway, a new menu item should be fine.

“Here you go.”

“I, I don’t have money…”

“It’s a test for a new menu. Don’t worry about it and eat.”

“Y-yes…!”

Fledgling No. 3 accepted the doughnut, smiled shyly, took a bite, and widened their eyes.

“What is this flavor… I’ve never tasted anything like it!”

“It’s matcha cream. What’s your detailed review?”

“…W-well, the flavor is very deep yet refreshing. There’s a slight bitterness, which I personally like, but…”

A fairly decent review. Nephti would just say “It’s delicious, but? I’d appreciate more, but?” or something like that.

But I really can’t remember. I feel like I should remember…

“Senior, we want some too!”

“…It’s unfair that only Mille-feuille gets to eat.”

As those two gluttons drooled over the matcha cream doughnut, lightning struck in my head.

“Mille-feuille?”

“Huh? Y-yes. I’m Mille-feuille von Sablé…”

“I’m Vanilla!”

“…I’m Yogurt.”

I know who you are.

“I see. …Understood. I’d like to ask you to taste-test the trial menu.”

“Yes!”

“…Okay.”

“I’ll gladly eat it.”

The three bowed to me and began their next meal.

Yogurt eating cheerfully, Vanilla quietly but quickly, and Mille-feuille at a normal pace.

“It’s delicious!”

“…Sweet.”

“Hmm. This is chocolate flavor. The deep aftertaste lingers in your mouth—I like it.”

Now I finally remembered who that child was.

Mille-feuille von Sablé.

A classmate of Kelterus who got expelled in 1-3.

—

After finishing my sales, I returned to the convenience store and sank into thought.

Mille-feuille von Sablé.

If you ask why I couldn’t remember this character—there’s a reason.

First of all, Mille-feuille is not a character you can recruit as an ally.

You know how it is in stories—there’s always a character who inevitably leaves the party as the story progresses.

That was Mille-feuille.

To explain simply—1-3 is the midterm exam arc.

Broadly divided into written tests, survival tests, and sparring. In the story, Mille-feuille is the one who faces Kelterus in sparring.

Kelterus easily defeats Mille-feuille, and Mille-feuille—whose grades were already on the borderline—gets expelled just like that.

A character that teaches you once again about Zephrin’s ruthlessness, while simultaneously serving as an extra character to become the protagonist’s stepping stone for conviction.

That’s Mille-feuille von Sablé.

“I met a rare character.”

To be honest, that’s the only thought I have.

It’s unfortunate that they’re getting expelled, but they can just go back to their hometown and live an ordinary life. Everyone else lives like that. Think of Kelterus as a natural disaster. At least you can still survive—Wolfram, if he gets expelled, that’s the end.

“Anyway, I need to do my own work.”

First, let’s see—Magical Pâtissier proficiency work.

Matcha cream, custard cream, and countless other creams to improve, iced tea to make—there’s endless improvement work to be done.

As I was working, I heard a knocking sound.

Is it the wind? Since customers never come, the wind sounds pretty regular today.

*Knock. Knock. Knock.*

Three more sounds of the wind.

No, it’s not the wind. Then what… Nephti running over because she’s short on money? Or Aila coming for energy drinks? Rudika and Eve wouldn’t come looking for me right now.

“Tch. Just open the door and come in.”

Whoever it is, they’re showing uncharacteristic politeness.

Thinking that, I opened the store door—and there stood an unexpected person.

“Mille-feuille von Sablé?”

“…Huh? Yes! Hello, Wolfram Senior.”

Mille-feuille bowed politely, and I tilted my head.

Why is she here? A customer?

Could she be W.R.’s commemorative first customer!

Calming my pounding heart, I put on the friendliest smile I could and asked.

“…Heh. Did you come to buy something?”

“Eep. Ah, no, that’s not it.”

Then leave.

“Um, Senior, this…”

“What is it?”

“I, I organized the flavors of the doughnuts I ate earlier. You said they were trial menu items, and since I taste-tested them, I thought I should leave proper feedback.”

“……”

What.

Why is she so nice.

“…Is it okay to give this to you? If it’s a bother, I’ll just g-go back.”

“Come in. I’ll at least offer you some tea.”

“Yes!”

—

Mille-feuille looked around the inside of the convenience store with curiosity, then drank the tea I served and nodded with a “Hah, hah.”

“The fragrance is really nice. What’s this tea called?”

“Peppermint tea. It’s one of the trial menu items, so I won’t charge you.”

“Wow… I think it would go well with chocolate doughnuts.”

……Should I not have let her in?

No. The products and preferences aren’t at fault. Yes, peppermint tea and chocolate doughnuts might go well together. If the customer says so, that’s how it is. Right?

“Let’s get to your business first.”

“Ah, right. Here, this is the report I wrote. It’s hastily put together, but I tried my best to remember and wrote honestly.”

Mille-feuille handed me the report, and I scanned its contents.

Round, neat handwriting. Some parts were highlighted with a marker.

[Chocolate Doughnut ★★★★☆]

[Sweet and deeply flavorful. However, there’s a slight sticky aftertaste that lingers in the mouth—might go well with a refreshing drink?]

[Matcha Doughnut ★★★★★]

[The flavor is dangerously rich and truly profound!]

“…Hmm.”

“Um, how is it?”

“It’s fine. A surprisingly well-organized review for something written in such a short time.”

“Th-thank you. I’m glad it was helpful.”

Mille-feuille bowed her head deeply.

But does she even have time to be doing this right now?

From what I remember, even though 1-3 is the decisive blow, this Mille-feuille clashes with Kelterus once before that as well.

I recall she got crushed in sparring when they were assessing the first-years’ abilities, and she also failed the pop quiz.

Hmm. After that, she was on the verge of death—and in the 1-3 midterms, she failed the written test, failed the survival test, and got crushed by Kelterus in sparring—triple F, expulsion. That’s how I remember it.

What’s going on here?

It’d be strange to just ask directly, so I decided to leverage my former reputation a bit.

“This is certainly helpful, but as the former student council president, I’m a bit concerned.”

“Um, what concerns you? Is the content insufficient?”

“No, the content is excellent. It’s just that first-year is an incredibly busy time, isn’t it? There are sparring tests, pop quizzes… Do you really have time to leisurely organize this?”

“W-well, the classmate I was supposed to spar with is apparently named Kelterus. I was really nervous since he’s the top first-year, but…”

That’s right.

I gestured for her to continue, and Mille-feuille chuckled.

“During the entrance ceremony, a third-year mage senior hurt me, so I was resting—and as a result, the early sparring was canceled and postponed.”

“……”

“So we were supposed to spar again, but recently I broke the student council president’s lockdown order by leaving the dormitory and got suspended for two weeks for violating the presidential decree…”

“……”

“The sparring was handled as a default win for me. A bizarre coincidence of overlapping events… I guess I got lucky.”

Yeah.

I see.

A truly bizarre coincidence.

Right?