Noah Heyworth was in a bad mood.

Actually, it was rarer for him not to be, but let’s just gloss over that. Perhaps because of that, his concentration dropped today, and things kept getting tangled up.

It had been like that ever since he headed to the lab early in the morning. Since Advanced Tool Studies was an unpopular major, he was the sole research student, and normally there were hardly any visitors, making it cozy and peaceful. Yet, for some reason, today there were people lingering around the front of the door. Two of them, no less. His golden eyes narrowed.

“Um, Heyworth. We’re from the Magic History Lab, and we were wondering if we could take a look at the puppet magic tool estimated to have been made in the 600s that was recently brought in…”

“Ah, I’m Jamie Linden and this is Anna Berman.” The two of them exchanged awkward smiles while reading his expression. However, they couldn’t hide their nervously shaking pupils.

With his hands shoved into his pockets, he scanned them up and down. Judging by the unfamiliar faces, they must have deliberately sent the newly arrived probationary research students of this year.

He was sick and tired of the History Lab. Noah curled up one corner of his lips into a gloomy smile. At that, their expressions visibly stiffened. Since his major was Archaeological Magic Tools, his job was to investigate the constituent parts and uses of old magic tools that trickled into the lab.

That meant the magic tools he painstakingly dismantled, analyzed, and reassembled were mouth-watering historical relics from their perspective. Well, up to that point, it was fine. It was quite common for research fields to overlap and cooperate with each other, regardless of the discipline.

In the past, the History Lab research students used to pester him to let them take magic tools out of the lab. Something about personal research and writing papers, or whatever. Even back then, he explained “kindly”—from his own perspective—that it was impossible according to the rules.

When they said they would come visit frequently if taking them out wasn’t allowed, he left them be. Actually, he had opposed it tooth and nail, but since Theodore Seedfel, the owner of the lab, gave permission, he couldn’t help it.

He had warned them repeatedly to observe only with their eyes and not touch anything, yet how many magic tools had those annoying flying pests ended up touching and breaking? They must have thought they could just haphazardly take things apart and use a restoration spell, but magic was strictly prohibited here as much as possible.

Because most of them were old, worn-out items that had ridden through time, recklessly using a magic tool without enduring the shock would frequently cause it to shatter right on the spot. Why did he think he conducted every single process manually? There was a reason for it all, of course.

As memories of discovering magic tools left in disastrous states resurfaced, his stomach churned. Noah swept back his disheveled hair with a nervous hand.

“Get lost.”

“P-Pardon?”

The shoulders of the two shrank to the utmost. A guy with a fierce impression was tall and towering over them, so they cowered instinctively.

“I said get lost. Is the Magic Tool Lab your private museum or something?”

In truth, the interior of the lab was decorated quite like an exhibition room, following Professor Seedfel’s tastes. Well, it wasn’t a real museum, though.

Perhaps finding the reaction worse than expected, the two stammered without being able to continue speaking for a moment. Then, recovering somewhat from the shock, Anna looked up at him with a defiant gaze.

“Professor Seedfel said we could come and see them in person anytime…”

The start was bold, but unable to withstand his stinging gaze, her voice gradually grew smaller until she finally trailed off.

“Oh, dear. The professor is currently absent.”

“S-So?”

“What do you mean, so? It means get lost right now.”

Noah walked past them, opened the door, and slammed it right in their faces. He didn’t even forget to lock it to prevent them from entering. He thought he heard some mumbling, but soon the footsteps faded away.

What bad luck starting from the morning, seriously.

Though the uninvited guests who ruined the start of his day were bothersome, the person who actually ruffled his temper was someone else entirely. It was Professor Seedfel, who showed no signs of returning even after a month.

He had clearly claimed he was going to Orchen “briefly” after being invited as a consultant for a magic tool auction, but what on earth was he doing wherever he was to be this late? Why, indeed? He muttered under his breath, glaring into empty air. No doubt he got distracted wandering around aimlessly here and there again.

Thanks to that, he was extremely busy because he was lumbered with not just one or two tasks. Slamming the door in the faces of the History Lab research students was also largely because he didn’t have the time to supervise them from the side while they inspected the magic tools. Of course, the reason that they were annoying and troublesome was a bigger factor.

Not only that. In the meantime, the new semester had begun, and he even had to temporarily teach “The Artistic History of Magic Tools,” a two-hour lecture every Wednesday. Add to that his routine research and thesis writing, and a week would vanish in the blink of an eye.

Even so, Professor Seedfel would likely show up one day carrying an armful of miscellaneous junk as if nothing had happened. Organizing and analyzing those things would naturally fall on his plate, of course.

It had already been his second year. Ever since he wore the “probationary” tag and was worked like a regular research student. Noah’s gaze turned fierce. It wasn’t that he had any lingering attachment to that title. The heavy workload was also within manageable limits, so it was fine.

The problem was that if he didn’t get promoted by the end of this year, his research student status would be automatically revoked. That was the policy of Zenios’s laboratories.

There had been two evaluation periods last summer and winter, but Professor Seedfel hadn’t even pretended to seriously observe him. He would just drop by the lab whenever he felt like it, laughing merrily, and then disappear somewhere else again.

Since he had shown more than sufficient results, it couldn’t possibly be because he failed to meet the standards. That was only natural, considering he had written five papers just last year.

Every single one he published was featured in prestigious academic journals, and among them, the paper co-written with Professor Seedfel was even selected straight away as 4th place for “Paper of the Year.”

Thanks to that, a thrilled school allocated a larger budget to them, and a wealthy aristocratic patron whose hobby was collecting antique magic tools attached himself to them as well. Because of that incident, Professor Seedfel, whose mouth was split from ear to ear, kept trying to hug him, so he had a hard time avoiding him for a while. On top of that.

Noah glanced around the lab, which was cleaned with satisfying neatness. When he first stepped in during the spring of the year before last, this place was chaos incarnate.

Sure, installing glass display cases along the wall was fine and well. But why on earth did he put magic tools with zero commonalities or relevance together in a disordered mess? For the first half-year, he forced himself to ignore it thinking he shouldn’t touch them carelessly, but every time he saw it, it bothered him until it finally reached the point where he couldn’t stand it anymore.

‘Ah, the display cases? I just threw them in wherever an empty spot opened up. You can do whatever you want with them.’

He had asked cautiously in case he hurt the professor’s ego, but Professor Seedfel had wiped away snack crumbs clinging to his lips and replied nonchalantly.

Judging by his brown eyes blinking as if he didn’t have any particular thoughts, it didn’t seem like empty words. Since he had even received permission, Noah completely turned the lab upside down starting that very day.

He took out every single magic tool displayed in the case, categorized them by type, dusted them off, and reorganized them in order of estimated production date. Naming each one and making lists was something he didn’t omit either.

His interest soon moved to the storage room where rare and expensive magic tools were kept separately. The moment he saw the packed shelves and items so close to touching each other with no spare space left, his breath simply caught.

Normally he would have made a more cautious decision, but having already tidied up the other areas neatly, his newfound confidence was the root of the trouble. He carefully cast a spatial expansion room-enlargement magic and succeeded in expanding the room without damaging anything. Yes, up to that point, it was good.

The mistake came when he had cleaned more than half of the storage room. To be exact, it was because of an unknown sticky liquid pooled on the floor.

Right before he slipped and fell on whatever that was, he instinctively reached out and braced himself against a shelf. A cool shiver raced down his spine. It was because of a loud shattering noise coming from behind.

Noah swallowed dryly and turned back. The “Tears-Shedding Lapis Lazuli Mermaid Statue” that he had wiped and placed up just ten minutes ago was shattered and scattered everywhere.

‘Damn it.’

That was a piece by ‘Rhinos Michel,’ who was renowned as a magic tool maker in the 700s. In an instant, his head grew hot and his mouth dried up completely.

He gathered the debris and tried restoration attempts all through the night. However, the delicate magic cast on the magic tool was close to art imbued with Michel’s unique craftsmanship, making reproduction impossible. Thus, the mermaid, which used to weep so gracefully, ended up spurting water from her eyes instead—a truly exasperating state of affairs.

The next morning, the moment Professor Seedfel came to work, Noah confessed his mistake with a much paler complexion. Not only would he humbly accept being expelled from the lab, but he also planned to somehow pay back the value of the mermaid statue afterwards. Yet, defying that resolve, an unexpected reaction came back.

‘Hey, it’s fine. Things like that happen. You’ve done more for me up until now. You don’t have to work today, so go get some sleep. Your face looks like a wreck.’

Noah blankly watched Professor Seedfel making all sorts of fuss and admiring the cleaned-up storage room. That was the first time he thought staying in this lab for a long time wouldn’t be too bad.

So he worked even harder, yet he hadn’t even heard the ‘P’ of promotion, and even now in his second year, he still hadn’t been asked about his future path. Once it started bothering him, it kept lingering in his head, which annoyed him. So, swallowing his wounded pride, he asked him point-blank as soon as the new year dawned.

‘Do I need to look into another lab for next year? If so, tell me in advance so I can prepare application documents according to the recruitment period.’

‘Ah, about that.’

Professor Seedfel scratched his dark brown, unkempt hair and turned back toward him. With that messy appearance and vague, dreamy face whose inner thoughts were completely unreadable.

‘You’ve already been more than perfectly beyond expectations since day one. Except for just one thing.’

‘What is that?’

Having never heard anyone say he was lacking anywhere, his tone naturally turned sharp. Professor Seedfel chuckled for a long time over whatever was so funny, then opened his mouth.

‘Your misanthropy.’

Is that all. Over something so minor. Noah gave a small scoff. What on earth did disliking people a little have to do with getting promoted? He had treated him, his advisor, with as much proper respect and courtesy as possible.

‘A guy who’s only twenty-one living his life already turning his back on the world like that won’t do. You’re far too wasted for that, aren’t you?’

A rebellious, adolescent boy-style line—How I live is my own business—rose all the way up to his throat, but he chose not to spit it out. It felt a bit childish, after all.

Moreover, debating with Professor Seedfel on topics outside of academia and getting dragged into his illogical sophistry had happened more than once or twice. So he didn’t want to waste energy on something useless.

‘So, you see, I came up with a brilliant idea. If you promise to do this, I promise to promote you at the end of this year. How about it?’

He wouldn’t tell him in advance what it was. The professor added teasingly as he leaned his body against the back of his chair. Noah put down his tweezers and frowned. Seeing him so excited felt somewhat suspicious. But he couldn’t refuse right away. The conditions at stake were simply too attractive for that.

He lowered his gaze to the half-dismantled clock magic tool and fell into a brief contemplation. The conclusion came quickly. Whatever it was, the desire to remain in the familiar and comfortable lab of his alma mater was stronger. And… Noah’s gaze shifted toward Professor Seedfel, who was smiling slyly. At least to this extent, his relationship with his advisor was on relatively smooth terms.

‘If it’s something I can do, I’ll give it a try.’

‘Ah, of course you can do it. I heard that someone took an emergency leave of absence recently, so a spot just opened up.’

Professor Seedfel bared his teeth and grinned wide.