These days, a phrase often floated around the Hiaka Faculty of /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Magic.
“Should we ask Professor Dante to verify this?”
Whenever researchers constructed complex formulas and circuits but couldn’t be sure they functioned properly, that one name would inevitably come up.
Dante Hiakapo.
......And every time it did, it rubbed other professors the wrong way.
“What’s with this ‘Professor Dante’ nonsense.”
The magic professors bristled.
“Why are the younger professors these days so lacking in perseverance?”
“Do we have no pride left? A mage asking an assassin to verify a mage’s research—unthinkable.”
“If it were illusion-magic, fine. But this is [Curse Magic]. Their major is [Illusion]. Ours is [Curse Magic]. How could we possibly ask him to check this?”
That Dante was a great researcher—these days, even some mutt called Ppoppi back in Hiaka’s countryside knew that much.
But that aside—the so-called ‘Dante-is-universal’ theory spreading quietly even among the Faculty of Magic was a thorn in many professors’ pride.
Because they were mages.
“Still... we can’t rule it out, can we.”
One young professor, hesitating, spoke up.
His name was Odian. A young professor, hired in the same term as Dante.
“What?”
“Well, who knows—maybe Professor Dante could give us the answer through verification.”
He said it because his pride too had been wounded under the scoldings of the old geezers.
And because he’d once heard that a passing bit of advice Dante gave had greatly advanced a fellow professor’s research.
“What do you mean, ‘who knows.’”
“Why not? The other Chief Professors in the Faculty of Magic never lend us a hand, but Professor Dante sometimes does.”
“Ehh. Honestly.”
The elder professors’ eyes locked on the younger one, as if to say he was being childish.
Odian normally lived with his mouth shut.
But today, he found it harder and harder to hold back.
‘...Lately, Chief Galois’s face has been worsening.’
The truth was—this lab was Chief Professor Galois’s.
Odian had entered it out of respect for Galois.
But Chief Galois, being shunned by the other chiefs, kept his distance.
‘And he’s grown anxious.’
The Galois Lab had been pursuing a single grand formula. Success was within sight.
But right at the very end, they had stalled on a few formulas.
‘And still these old fossils insist we must solve it ourselves....’
Odian had sensed more than once that Galois and Dante were on good terms.
He also knew Galois had, on several occasions, tried to recruit Dante as assistant professor.
If they asked for help—
He would help.
Unlike the other assassination professors, obsessed with money, Dante had loyalty and conscience.
“...Honestly, if we don’t know, shouldn’t we learn?”
At that, Odian, usually silent, finally opened his mouth.
“Professor Odian.”
The elders frowned.
“No, I mean, are we really going to keep struggling for months on end? We all belong to Hiaka Academy. We’re one research community. We can at least ask Professor Dante, can’t we?”
That made the senior snap.
“Hey, Professor Odian. Are you going to keep talking nonsense? We’re not students. You don’t shove your homework onto someone else just because you don’t know it.”
“Then can we solve it right now, Professor? You’ve all been stuck on Formula 31 for three months! Isn’t it better to swallow some pride and ask for guidance than waste more time?”
In those three months—
Chief Galois’s body had grown even more gaunt.
Twice he had failed to lift his knees even a stair-step high and collapsed.
Twice more he had been unable to lift a spoon in the cafeteria.
And yet Odian’s bold words only shredded the professors’ pride further.
“That brat’s got some nerve. Professors are sitting here, and he—”
“Hey, punk! You blaming us? Research always hits walls! You ought to do your part! You came here to serve Chief Galois, and you dare act cocky in front of researchers?”
“You think you’re the only one frustrated? You think you’re the only one researching? If you run to Professor Dante every time you’re stuck, when will you do your work? Huh?”
The scolding poured out endlessly!
And Odian’s pride was scraped raw.
“......”
Yet the elders had a point. This was Galois’s research. Their research. Born in their hands, and so it must be finished in their hands.
And for one so young, Odian could hardly argue further. The right thing was to shut up.
“......”
And yet—
‘Chief! You need a hospital!’
Not long ago, when they were going down stairs together, Chief Galois had collapsed badly.
‘You’re wasting away more every day. You can’t even keep your balance now! It’s dangerous!’
A shocked Odian had said that.
‘You brat. You think a man with my money hasn’t been to a hospital? Ihihik! Hospitals are for people still worth keeping alive.’
‘But, still—!’
‘Quiet, quiet! Shhh!’
The man who always pretended dignity—
Suddenly acting like a mischievous boy.
That day, for the first time, he showed the face of a tired old man.
‘Will you keep it secret?’
‘Don’t let anyone pity me.’
Odian had sealed his lips.
The old man was saying—
He was someone who must never be pitied. Someone who must never receive kindness.
And Odian knew exactly why Galois said so.
‘Chief... ...yes.’
Knowing the reason, he could say nothing.
And so time passed, leading here.
“......”
Outside the lab, in a weed-choked clearing.
Odian sat alone, smoking hard.
“What the hell is pride anyway...”
Mages had pride.
He himself.
The other faculty.
Galois too.
But not just mages.
“Humans are too inefficient....”
He blew out smoke, pondering the inefficiency of human society.
Subordinates must watch their seniors’ moods. Seniors must put on gravity. Like just now, in the lab.
And that’s not all.
Parents want to be friends with their children, but must keep distance as guardians.
Meeting strangers, one may want to grow closer—but must always wonder how they’ll be perceived.
All of it—stemming from domestication and taming—weakening humanity’s nature.
It had benefits. But drawbacks too.
So now people of different backgrounds clashed.
Generations clashed.
Nations clashed.
The whole world clashed.
Born of the ruler’s stick used to measure each other. Born of fear of being judged.
Ahh, the completion of a boring world...
‘That’s why people drink.’
But alcohol was shallow, brief, inapplicable to many situations, and caused endless problems.
Chief Galois wanted more than that for the future.
What this age needed was...
“......”
The thought dragged on.
Day passed to evening, to night.
Odian still had no answer.
“......”
At last, he remembered—this was exactly why Galois’s research existed.
Odian pulled a small perfume bottle from his pocket.
And sprayed it over himself pssh pssh.
A shallow curse acting on the brain and nervous system rippled through his mind.
“Mmh.”
The rigid strictures inside Professor Odian began to loosen.
The product was not yet perfected, but it worked to a degree.
In that state, he thought—
‘What’s the downside of going to Professor Dante?’
1. Senior professors will hate me 😭
2. I’ll be cursed and mocked forever 😭
‘Then what’s the upside of going to Professor Dante?’
1. High chance the research is completed before Chief Galois dies.
2. High chance someone will exist who can understand Chief Galois.
‘And what is Chief Galois to me?’
1. Father.
When all the tangled thoughts cleared, one simple conclusion remained.
“I’m sorry, Chief Galois....”
Odian resolved to go to Professor Dante.
***
At that time, I was at my personal research office in the Department of Assassination, revising various academic plans.
Based on recent reports from assassins I’d planted across the map, I judged that the main storyline was soon to begin.
‘I’ll probably win the Obel Prize.’
Shortly after the nomination news spread, I reviewed other researchers’ work logs with Ran.
‘I’m the best.’
‘.......’
‘What.’
‘That was a little arrogant. Sorry.’
But it was fact. Objectively, nothing matched the Pink Drug as an achievement.
So the Obel Prize in Illusion Studies was all but guaranteed.
Which meant—soon the Setian Horned Demon war, Main Story 5, and the Obel ceremony would all hit at once like bombs. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the faculty for a while. Better to tidy things up now. Assign special lectures to Professor Kollider and the like in advance.
Knock, knock.
Someone rapped at the door. The [Minimap] showed several.
“Enter.”
The door opened, and half a dozen professors shuffled in.
Some faces I knew.
From their stiff, solemn expressions, it was obvious: professors from the Faculty of Magic.
Veteran seniors from Galois’s lab.
“......Hm.”
As soon as they entered, one crossed his arms. Another elbowed him.
“Ehm... greetings, Professor Dante. We should’ve contacted you beforehand... sorry.”
“A pleasure. What brings you here?”
They looked sour. A little displeased.
All too familiar. Faculty of Magic professors always wore faces like that.
Fidget, fidget...
After twisting themselves about, the eldest spoke up.
“Well, you see... we’ve been puzzling over some formulas for a while. And then someone said, hey, let’s go ask Professor Dante, huh? Can you believe it?”
He raised his voice.
“These brats, huh? I kept saying, Professor Dante’s too busy, too busy! But they pestered me until I couldn’t stop them. So anyway—we were wondering, if you happen to have time, could we ask your help...”
I smiled inwardly.
For a mage with such pride to lower himself this far—no easy thing.
A glance at 【Script】 showed it: they wanted me to verify formulas.
“Of course. I owe Chief Galois much; I should do what I can. But the Chief himself didn’t come?”
“Ah, that old man? At his age, you think he’d be here till night? He needs to rest at home.”
“Is that so.”
But 【Script】 spilled worried thoughts instead.
From all of them.
‘...So Chief Galois’s health really is that bad.’
A few times, when he held onto me regretfully, I’d glimpsed such thoughts.
“Well, anyway, Professor Dante isn’t a curse-magic professor, so if you don’t understand this, we won’t judge or mistreat you. Everyone knows you’re brilliant.”
They were asking for help, while secretly hoping I wouldn’t solve it. Because if I did, all their struggle would turn meaningless.
Pride twisting them. As a researcher, I understood.
“Let’s see.”
“......”
They soon handed me a paper.