Chapter 39

Although there was an unfortunate incident along the way, I still managed to obtain the information I wanted through the deal with Keith d’Alembert.

The vampires’ surveillance records revealed Winter Winslet’s suspicious behavior over the past two months, and that behavior converged on four specific locations within the academy.

They were the equipment storage facility of the Magic Department and the offices of three professors affiliated with the Department.

Now it was time to lift the lid on this pot that had started to reek of suspicion.

I summoned someone to act as my guide.

It was Jeremy, a subordinate of Winter Winslet whom I had once met at a dinner gathering. He was currently serving as the dean of the research support department at the academy headquarters.

“Oh, Professor. What brings you here on the weekend?”

Jeremy was in charge of managing the stock in the storage, and what he really did was falsify records of academy-owned supplies as losses and funnel them into Winter Winslet’s private warehouse.

So, I had a convenient pretext already in mind.

“I’m here to inspect whether you’ve been carrying out the task I assigned to you properly.”

“An inspection? Well, this is…”

“Is there a problem?”

“N-No, of course not. Right this way, I’ll take you to the storage.”

The equipment storage was where all the tools and materials needed for the Magic Department’s classes were kept.

Geographically, it was located between the First and Second Magic Buildings, with a total floor area of 2,000 square meters.

As we reached the entrance, a cool breeze blew out from the huge warehouse interior.

“Here we are.”

“The door’s open.”

“The workers are moving things in and out. This project was specially ordered by Professor Winslet, wasn’t it? We can’t afford to leave people idle even on weekends, so we’re busily shifting supplies.”

When I stepped into the warehouse, I saw supplies neatly arranged in designated zones.

There were all sorts of items like one-person cauldrons used in alchemy classes, mercury compounds to fill those cauldrons, reagent flasks, heating lamps, distillers, filters, blank magic scrolls, enchanted testing candles, and even antidepressants for mandrakes.

But as we moved deeper inside, I saw stacks of wooden crates whose contents were unknown.

When my gaze turned toward them, Jeremy smiled and said,

“That’s the caraphite you ordered us to procure last time.”

“Caraphite?”

Caraphite was a fictional mineral that existed in the world of Candela of Judgment.

It was a kind of magical fuel. Just like how burning coal generates fire and heat, caraphite could be used to trigger various magical effects.

Though it was widely used in both industry and everyday life, caraphite wasn’t considered particularly special, as it was also frequently used in the academy for magical practice.

Still, there sure were a lot of crates filled with it.

They nearly covered an entire wall of the storage room…

“How much is all this, exactly?”

“What we currently have in the warehouse is just over 17 tons. That’s what’s left from what we’ve used so far.”

Tons?

I went momentarily blank, trying to grasp just how much that really was, when Jeremy began muttering,

“We’re a bit short of the target amount, but I hope you’ll understand. Lately, it seems the royal court has been trying to increase its reserve of caraphine, so all departments are scrambling to get their share from the limited supply. Thankfully, we managed to get this much by paying a premium, thanks to Professor Winslet’s financial backing.”

“I see.”

“We’re also taking great care in how we store it. Would you like to check for yourself?”

“Go ahead.”

“Hey, you there! Bring that crate over here.”

A burly worker approached, pushing a cart, and soon I had the chance to touch the contents of the crate.

Caraphite was a small, white stone.

When lightly rubbed, a dull powder flaked off, and a faint rainbow sheen shimmered from beneath the surface.

That was a trace of magic.

As I fiddled with the caraphite, a thought surfaced in my mind.

Could this be the item traded with the Second Point Sakis Lubas?

Probably not.

Caraphite was just a lump of stone with no defined shape.

It didn’t match the “rod-shaped item” Sakis Lubas had mentioned, nor was it suitable for a discreet transaction due to its bulk.

But what about caraphine, which was refined from caraphite?

Caraphine, which was created through a special magical process that extracts, purifies, and concentrates the magic within caraphite, was compact and incredibly powerful.

However, producing caraphine wasn’t something that could be done at a civilian level.

Not only did it require specialized facilities, but also the sacrifice of dozens of highly knowledgeable and capable mages just to make the process viable. In other words, it was a project that demanded national-level investment and effort.

That was something even the leader of enemy spies wouldn’t be able to pull off.

…But what if it was Winter Winslet?

I turned to the worker who had been moving the crates of caraphite.

“Where are these boxes being taken?”

“Huh? Where are we moving them to? Let me see… We were on our way to Rooms 107 and 109 of the Magic Engineering Building, Professor.”

“Those are Professor Malcolm’s laboratories.”

Malcolm was one of the professors in the Magic Department, and he had been mentioned in Trisha’s report as someone who might be connected to Winter Winslet.

That connection sparked a very troubling thought in my mind.

A large stockpile of caraphite in storage.

A laboratory equipped with advanced equipment.

And inside that laboratory were research students working like slaves to earn their advanced degrees.

Materials, facilities, and expert personnel—

It was the perfect combination of all three conditions required to manufacture caraphine.

…Could it really be that a bomb was being manufactured inside the academy?

And that Winter Winslet was the one carrying it out?

As much as I hated to admit it, it was an all-too-convincing theory.

***

Laurencia Royal Academy was a four-year educational institution.

All students took introductory courses in their first year and chose a major in their second year.

By the time they were about to graduate, they faced a rather unique fork in the road.

Should they graduate and seek employment in a royal institution, or should they remain at the academy as research students?

By postponing graduation and producing academic results under the guidance of a professor, students could earn an advanced degree that served as proof of their expertise.

Holders of an advanced degree were guaranteed better treatment at job placements, or in rare cases, they might become instructors at one of the academy’s branches and even dream of becoming full professors in the future.

Of course, that was easier said than done.

Research students had their graduation theses evaluated by their advising professor.

And, of course, professors weren’t eager to let go of these low-paid, specialized workers they could use like slaves.

It was also part of a larger effort to kick away the ladder and protect the limited number of faculty positions.

And so, throughout the academy, research students were being exploited for their labor with the promise of an advanced degree that was held hostage. Day by day, they lost what little vitality remained on their already weary faces.

“Um… Professor?”

“Matthew, what brings you here so early in the morning?”

“I was thinking of heading out for the day.”

“What? You just got to the lab and you’re already leaving? The sun’s barely up!”

“I’ve been here all night since yesterday.”

“……”

“Also… today’s my mother’s birthday. I told you yesterday I’d need to go…”

“Aha! And when exactly did you say that? I don’t recall anything of the sort.”

“When you were heading out to your drinking party yesterday evening.”

“What drinking party? Call it what it was. A seminar!”

“Ah, yes. When you were heading to your seminar.”

“So, did I give you permission then?”

Matthew fell silent, caught in an awkward moment.

Last night, Professor Malcolm had been too busy bragging to his colleagues about a seafood place he’d booked for dinner and had just muttered a distracted “Uh-huh” in response to Matthew’s words.

Just as Matthew began to look more and more dejected, unsure what to say or do, the professor finally spoke up.

“Well, I suppose there’s no helping a parent’s birthday. Alright, go ahead and take the day off.”

“…Professor!”

Matthew’s face lit up with joy and gratitude.

His advisor, Professor Malcolm, added a warm farewell.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Matthew’s face froze again.

“…Professor?”

“Hmm? Why are you still standing there? Shouldn’t you be off to see your parents?”

“Um, it’s just that… tomorrow’s Sunday…”

“I’m aware of that. So?”

“Do we still come into the lab on Sundays?”

“Good heavens, is that even a question? If a research student isn’t in the lab, where else would they be?”

“But still… shouldn’t we at least get weekends off?”

“Oh, good grief.”

Malcolm let out a deeply sympathetic sigh.

“Matthew, how long has it been since you joined the lab?”

“It’s been two weeks now.”

“Right. Then I suppose you’re still getting used to how things work here. Maybe you just don’t know yet, but our lab follows a six-day work week. The one day off has to be coordinated so it doesn’t overlap with anyone else’s schedule.”

“What? This is the first I’m hearing of it!”

“For the past two weeks, you were still in your trial period. The senior students probably covered your share of the work. But starting today, you’re an official research student. You need to pull your own weight.”

Once the trial period was over, quitting as a research student became much more difficult.

This was because the academy, by rule, did not provide dormitories to graduates, and those who missed the hiring season would be left jobless for a whole year until the next opportunity.

So the other research students had likely helped Matthew with his work up to this point.

The more students there were in the same position, the lighter each person’s load would be.

Fully aware of this, Professor Malcolm gave another kind smile as he spoke.

“Well, I understand that you’d like some rest. If you really must take the day off, go fetch Theodore.”

“Why Theodore?”

“If you’re going to rest, someone else has to cover your work. As it happens, tomorrow is Theodore’s scheduled day off. He can come in and take your place.”

At those words, the color drained from Matthew’s face.

Theodore had joined the lab four years before Matthew.

A senior several years ahead was often far scarier than a professor, no matter how high-ranking the professor may be.

Matthew lowered his head.

“Professor, I’m sorry. I must’ve forgotten my place for a moment.”

“Ah, good. Let’s do better from now on.”

“……”

In the end, Matthew left the lab with heavy steps.

“Oh my, he’s definitely on the professor’s bad side now.”

“His life in the lab just got a whole lot harder.”

It was just as the other researchers sighed, feeling sorry for him.

Bang.

Matthew, who had walked out, returned.

“Professor!”

“Hey, you punk, when are you actually going to go home, huh? Be honest. You just don’t want to go, do you? Why don’t you come back in and put your bag down? Or did someone show up to take your place?”

“Someone did show up, but…”

“So what? Are you saying you’re absolutely determined to take tomorrow off?”

“No. The person said they’re here to see you.”

“See me? Who?”

“Well… it’s Professor Winslet.”

The students who saw Professor Malcolm’s face at that moment began to worry that his eyes might pop out.

The professor shot up from his seat and began tap dancing like someone whose feet had caught fire.

“You, all of you! Don’t slack off! Double-check everything to make sure there are no mistakes! The lab has to be absolutely spotless. Got it?”

He flung the door open like he was going to tear it off its hinges and ran out.

The remaining researchers turned to Matthew with questions.

“What’s Professor Winslet doing here?”

Matthew shrugged as if he had no idea either.

And a short while later—

Professor Malcolm reappeared in the lab.

In his right hand was a heavy pouch of money, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

He shouted,

“You lucky brats! We’re having a team lunch today!”

“A team lunch? All of a sudden?”

“Yeah! It’s on Professor Winslet; he wanted to encourage you all! And he said everyone can head home and rest for the day, too!”

“Wow!”

Cries of joy burst out from every corner.

Then Matthew cluelessly asked,

“Professor, then can I save the vacation day I was going to use today and take tomorrow off instead?”

“Of course not!”

Professor Malcolm cut him off without hesitation.