Chapter 6

“Yes… Well, after suddenly insulting my grades, he told me he’d teach me potion making… I couldn’t even voice any other opinion and got kicked out just like that.”

“What? Your grades are good.”

Belinda stopped wiping the workbench with a wet cloth, her eyes wide as she turned back toward her.

“I thought so too, but I guess that senior’s standards are way up there in the sky…”

Rozia let out a sigh that sounded like it could crack the earth. Just thinking about having to go meet him in a few hours made her good mood instantly plummet. Her head started aching as she recalled that handsome face filled with mockery toward her and his irritatingly sarcastic tone.

What did he say again? ‘Bring me a list of potions you need to learn?’ Her acorn-colored eyes narrowed. Indeed, that very morning, she had huffed and puffed her way to the library, rummaging through various books.

Fearing that if she named some undergraduate-level potion, he would scoff at her again, she had deliberately piled up several advanced-level books meant for research students and agonized over them all morning… Right up until a deep sense of futility hit her.

Even if she went through the trouble of filling her list with difficult and complicated things just to mess with the senior, at the end of the day, the person who actually had to brew the potions according to his instructions would be herself.

So, she hesitated to readily choose high-difficulty potions. It was no different from being stuck between a rock and a hard place. No, wait—is this a liberal arts class or an advanced major course? Looks like I won’t be escaping the cauldron before this year is out…

“Hmm, interesting.”

Radion murmured to himself, crossing his arms. Judging by his somewhat peculiar expression, even to him, her situation did seem rather bizarre.

“Anyway, if I can’t graduate this year, I’m going to smack Hayward in the back of his head and go to jail for assault.”

At her resolute declaration, the two seniors burst into loud laughter. She was the only serious one here. With a sullen face, Rozia stirred her potion and turned off the heat. Now, where did I put my potion bottle?

“Come on, Rozia. Surprisingly, I think you’ll pull through this hardship just fine. You’re secretly not quite normal, after all.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Pick one: is that comfort or an insult?”

Rozia lightly grumbled at Belinda’s remark, which left her unsure whether it was a joke or in earnest.

“It’s true. You look all soft and squishy, like you’re about to burst into tears at the slightest nudge, but your mental fortitude is strong and your backbone is stiff.”

Even Radion joined in to back Belinda up. Wait, Alina also said I had a bit of a screw loose. Why does everyone around me view me as a weirdo?

“In professional terms, we call it a ‘clear-eyed lunatic.'”

The two seniors looked at her and snickered. Are these people seriously teasing me when I’m already stressed out of my mind?

“What did I even…”

“Last year, didn’t you try to buy and raise male and female mask-bugs yourself because brewing materials were too expensive? Pricey as they might be, how could you even plan to raise a creepy thing like that in the dorm…”

Shuddering just at the thought, Belinda shivered. Rozia’s cheeks flushed slightly. She really had considered it, though everyone who heard the plan freaked out, so she never actually went through with it.

Mask-bugs just had a few extra legs and a bit of length, and they were completely harmless to humans… She scratched the back of her neck lightly. Besides, as a potion-making major, you shouldn’t discriminate against ingredients.

“…Seriously? Rozia, you’re amazing. You’re definitely going to do great against Hayward.”

With his mouth half-open, Radion shook his head with a wry smile.

“Anyway… I’ll go apply to rent the practice lab later. If there’s a good spot available, do me a favor and look after one for me…”

Even while replying with a gloomy expression, her hands moved busily, carefully transferring the finished sleeping potion into a glass vial and sealing it with a cork. Watching her intently, Radion took a step closer and lowered his voice.

“If you’re really worried, ask Hayward to teach you the ‘Dream-Inducing Potion.’ I’ll secretly help you out later.”

“Hah, really?”

Her eyes sparkled with hope. As expected, heaven hasn’t forsaken me yet! It’s such a relief to have kind and helpful people like the senior around, Rozia thought to herself.

From the end of the corridor, the faint sound of small footsteps walking tap-tap-tap this way could be heard.

Noah reflexively glanced at the pocket watch resting on his desk. It was already past 5 PM. It was time for that intensely annoying group project.

Ha. He lifted his head, gazing upward and letting out a deep sigh. Because of his magnifying glasses, the plain white ceiling looked as close as if it were right before his eyes. A sudden sense of futility washed over him. He disliked how a strange element had suddenly intruded upon his peaceful, predictable daily routine.

To confess honestly, he hated change. Whenever major fluctuations occurred in his life due to reasons resembling the whims of fate, things rarely turned out well. Consequently, acting defensively became a habit of his. The “misanthropy” Professor Sidepell often half-jokingly, half-seriously mentioned was also part of that defense mechanism.

So what if it was? he muttered to himself. What was wrong with wanting to live quietly without getting entangled with anyone? From the very beginning, regardless of his attitude, people ultimately kept their distance from him anyway.

Being superior to ordinary people meant just that—whether in terms of appearance or magic. And the disadvantages of standing out always outweighed the advantages. So frankly, he was sick of it. It would be more accurate to say he was exhausted.

Just then, a soft knock echoed, and wheat-colored hair resembling an autumn field suddenly peeked through the door gap. It was a shade that made you feel like you could catch the scent of late-afternoon sunlight if you brought it close to your nose.

Hugging her bag, Rozia peeked at him warily before timidly approaching the other side of the workbench. The moment she pulled out her chair, an unpleasant friction noise rang throughout the lab.

When Noah lifted his head with a fiercely furrowed brow, her tense, rigid shoulders came into view. Holding her breath and glancing sideways at him, she vividly resembled a terrified little animal.

“Seriously, she’s something else.”

“S-sorry.”

Just how long would it take for this little junior, currently too busy being terrified of him, to look at him with the same gaze as other people? For a while, Noah kept his mouth tightly shut and immersed himself in his work. He had no idea what to say or how to treat her, having lost the knack for normal conversation long ago.

Having spent a long time avoiding people and thus being extremely awkward with human relationships, he had forgotten how to have an ordinary conversation ages ago. Just as the silence hanging over the lab began to weigh heavily on his shoulders, Rozia thankfully spoke up first.

“Um, Senior. There’s something I wanted to ask…”

What on earth is she going to ask? His gaze sharpened instantly. Had he ever received a welcome question starting like that? Most of the time, it was either rudely prying into his personal life or making various demands. He had even heard much filthier things.

For instance, that kind of bullshit asking him to help cheat on exams because they would “hire” him for a high price, right after rumors spread that he was actually an orphan whose foster father was a wandering mercenary.

‘Mercenaries are the sort who’ll do anything for money, right? Am I wrong?’

Though her face had grown quite blurry after his relentless efforts to forget, the mocking voice tossing a few gold coins at his feet remained vividly clear. In an instant, his mood plummeted straight to the bottom. Taking off his gloves, he firmly pressed his temples, which had begun to throb.

“Don’t ask.”

“Pardon? No… well, it’s not a weird question or anything…”

Rozia mumbled discontentedly before trailing off. Her large brown eyes blinked harmlessly. Though she looked a little aggrieved, that was the extent of it.

Come to think of it, it was fascinating. Without realizing it, Noah rested his chin in his hand and stared intently at her. Whether it was group project partners or female students from other departments who had the audacity to ask him out, people generally broke down crying and ran away after dealing with him.

Yet even though she looked fragile and soft enough that it wouldn’t be strange if she burst into tears at any second, instead of crying, she low-key spoke her mind. Impudent.

Uncomfortable under his gaze, Rozia lowered her eyes and fidgeted with her fingers. Then she raised her head to meet his eyes. Her gaze was steadfast.

“Wh-what are you looking at?”

See, right like that. He lifted the corners of his mouth slightly and leaned back against his chair. She really was a wild piece of work.

“You’re just ridiculously funny to look at.”

For a fleeting second, she widened her eyes and glared at him. Her thoughts were entirely transparent. Was it something like, ‘How can someone talk like that?’ or ‘What an absolute jerk’?

“I just wanted to ask why someone who already took ‘Understanding Others’ decided to sign up for it again. That’s all.”

“Ah, that.”

So she meant: ‘Since you already completed it and even graduated, why did you show up in an undergraduate elective class?’ Did she think he enjoyed wasting time like this? He glanced sideways at the badge resting on the edge of the desk. The numbers floating beneath the two names were blinking rhythmically: March 5th, 27 minutes.

A sigh escaped naturally. It brought back vague memories. When he took ‘Understanding Others’ with Declan, he had been exhausted from staring endlessly at that wild-stallion-like bastard’s face.

Knowing he had to do this crap all over again until late November made him want to lose his mind. Noah raised both hands and rubbed his face dry. Should he at least be grateful that July and August, the summer break months, were excluded?

“That’s none of your business. Just take out the homework I assigned yesterday.”

At his blunt tone, Rozia put on a pouty expression. Even so, she obediently rummaged through her bag and handed over a notebook. Not stopping there, she proudly placed advanced potion-making books borrowed from the library right on the desk for him to see—like a child bragging about the evidence of her hard work.

Why was she so transparently easy to read? Was that a talent in itself, too? He chuckled, glancing over the familiar cover. Mistaking that for a sneer, a look of annoyance flashed across her face for a split second.

Feigning ignorance, Noah cast his gaze down at the round handwriting written in the notebook. About ten potions with familiar names were listed in a row. They were all things he had brewed at least once and finished applying back when he was a potion-making major.

So teaching them wouldn’t be an issue. The real question was whether she could keep up. While it was a nuisance and irritating, imagining her side-glancing in frustration and huffing and puffing slightly piqued his interest. It would be hilarious.

“Oh, and by the way, do you happen to know how to make the ‘Dream-Inducing Potion’? If possible, I’d like to learn that one too…”

Rozia asked carefully while watching him examine the notebook. Noah’s face froze coldly. It felt like cold water being heavily splashed onto his somewhat improved mood. Setting his pencil down with a sharp click, he opened his mouth.

“Why would you want to learn that?”

“Well… I was just curious since they say it’s a potion developed by a senior from the same department.”

A chilling silence settled over the laboratory. Startled by the abruptly shifted atmosphere, Rozia darted her eyes around and eyed him warily.

“Are you close with Sampland?”

“Senior Radion? That senior is so sociable that he’s probably close with almost everyone in Genios, right?”

“But… why?” she asked after a brief hesitation, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he simply stared blankly into empty air, put back on his removed gloves, and strapped on his glasses—effectively issuing an eviction notice signaling that the conversation was over.

“You, stay right there until the hour is up, then get lost.”

“Pardon? We haven’t even decided which potion to make yet.”

“I’ll call you again later, so quit talking back and get out of here whenever your time’s up.”