Chapter 82

Shannon thought to herself,

Professor Winslet must have already known what state I was in. That’s why he said what he did.

After their duel, Professor Winslet had once told her:

– You decide for yourself where you belong.

But even now, Shannon still wasn’t sure.

Where was she supposed to be?

In their very first class, Professor Winslet had told them to find the reason they were learning magic.

But Shannon hadn’t trained in magic for a long time now.

She attended classes at the Academy and got good grades, but only because it was material she had already mastered.

Her desire to grow had faded like a flame gone out.

As she watched herself from the outside, a seed of doubt quietly sprouted in her chest.

I’m neither moving forward, like Professor Winslet said, nor returning to what I left behind. Is it really okay for me to stay like this?

Was it okay to settle for the present? To get lost in a sweet, comfortable daydream and forget herself?

Her parents had stood up to her great-grandfather to get her back, and in doing so, were cast out of the tower.

Was it really okay for her to stop fighting, even if it meant never seeing them again?

Was it okay to ignore the voice in her heart that said she had to keep going?

To honor that voice, she would have to walk a thorny path once again.

She would have to be ready to step barefoot onto that path of her own will.

Memories like thorns, the familiar pain and tension….they terrified Shannon.

But at the same time, she felt ashamed and disgusted by her own fear.

“What’s wrong, Shannon? You don’t look well. Are you feeling sick?”

Jacqueline’s worried voice pulled Shannon out of her deep thoughts.

When she looked down, she realized her ice cream had already melted to the point where it was no longer edible.

Shannon let out a sigh.

“…It’s nothing. I just need some fresh air.”

But the moment she stepped out of the ice cream shop, she leaned against the wall as if collapsing.

What should I do…?

***

The prisoner from the Thieves’ Guild finally opened his mouth.

It had been a week since he was locked up in the underground prison, and four days since I’d last seen him.

I told him I’d come back in three days, so why did I come a day late?

Simple. I forgot.

Nogi, the leader of the Thieves’ Guild’s assassination squad, left alone for an extra day under the delusion that he had been abandoned, eventually broke under the darkness and fear.

By the time I showed up again, he was in a very cooperative state.

I made up for my tardiness with persistent interrogation and cross-examination.

Moved by this “dedication”, Nogi gave up a wealth of information.

“So the Thieves’ Guild mistook me for a member of Longsoniere.”

More precisely, they mistook the identity of Nice Goodman.

The Thieves’ Guild had their eyes on the Caraphine in Longsoniere’s possession. That’s why, even after my deal with Sakis Rubas was done, they continued monitoring Longsoniere’s movements.

At some point, this mysterious figure, me, started coming and going from one of Longsoniere’s covert bases.

Assuming I was part of the same spy ring, they began tailing me.

I’d naturally assumed the ones following me were also with Longsoniere, so when an assassin from the Thieves’ Guild ended up in my trap, I was left thoroughly confused.

But now, that mystery had been solved.

And Nogi gave me one more precious piece of information:

The whereabouts of Caraphine.

Recently, Sakis Lubas had started ordering his men to regularly relocate the Caraphine storage site.

But the Thieves’ Guild had somehow managed to uncover the timing and location of the next transport.

To be able to trace the movements of those ultra-cautious and secretive spies—

Now that was the kind of feat that proved the true power of the Thieves’ Guild.

And thanks to that success, now it was Nice Goodman’s time to shine.

My next goal:

To steal Caraphine from Longsoniere who didn’t even know their movements had been exposed and save the kingdom from the looming threat of bomb terrorism.

Peace in the kingdom…

Such words had absolutely nothing to do with Winter Winslet.

And yet—

This man would protect the country for free.

Well… so be it.

The operation was set for two weeks from now.

All that remained was to wait.

But as a veteran of Candela of Judgment, I had no intention of wasting that time.

The garden was composed of a central dome-shaped greenhouse, surrounded by twelve multipurpose greenhouses, a seed vault, supply storage, and a park that connected them all.

Its primary purpose was to cultivate rare, high-value plants and magical ingredients. Especially those that needed to be used alive and unprocessed.

Take, for example, the mandrake.

Mandrakes are one of the fundamental ingredients for brewing elixirs.

And I needed a lot of mandrakes—

Because I was going to make elixirs.

As proven during the slum investigation last time, elixirs were especially useful to me.

They provided a way to bypass Winter Winslet’s systematic weakness: his “trait”.

For instance, when stepping into a filthy place triggered the “Sense of Hygiene” trait and penalized my health stats, I could negate the effect with the elixir’s buff.

By stockpiling extra elixirs, I could greatly expand my range of actions.

But the last elixir I had was the one I drank in the slums.

And from the start, elixirs were treated as rare treasures even in the original Candela of Judgment game—

Only obtainable from hidden treasure chests scattered across the world or through a secret recipe unlocked at the very end of the story.

But as a veteran of Candela of Judgment, I had that hidden recipe memorized in full detail.

Meaning….I could make one right now if I wanted to.

The Academy even had all the ingredients and equipment needed to brew elixirs.

No wonder Winter Winslet ended up becoming a professor here.

Anyway, to get the main ingredient for the elixir, I headed to the medicinal garden’s administrator’s office.

It was where the workers who actually maintained the garden gathered. It was a space filled with the faint smell of soil, sweat, and a bit of shouting.

“Why are you blaming me for that?!”

“Well, the tree withered! If it’s not the caretaker’s fault, then whose is it?”

“I’m telling you, I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Did you follow the manual? If you had, there wouldn’t have been any problem.”

“How many times do I have to say that manual’s got issues? Why won’t you listen?”

“It’s an official guideline distributed by the Karaf Magical Horticultural Society. You should trust the experts.”

“What do they know? I’ve been working with plants and trees for decades. I know the ones that grow in my soil better than anyone.”

“Director, you’re not exactly young anymore. Isn’t it about time you stepped down?”

“You’ve got some nerve, don’t you!”

A short but sturdy old man was arguing with a woman who wore her hair in a bun and glasses perched on her nose.

The woman seemed to outrank him and was pressing him hard.

As I stood there watching, she was the first to notice me and barked at the old man:

“Hurry up and go. Can’t you see we have a guest?”

“Don’t go anywhere. Just wait right here! I’ll be back soon to prove I was right.”

The old man came toward me, waving both arms.

He didn’t exactly look pleased to see me.

“I’m Moose, director of the botanical garden. What brings you here?”

“I came to get some supplies for class.”

“Ah, so you’re a professor at the academy. I’m not great with remembering faces, you see. But could you possibly come back another time? I’ve got something important to deal with right now.”

As the old man said that, the woman he’d just been arguing with snapped at him.

“Hold on, Moose. What do you think you’re doing, being so rude? Don’t you know who this is?”

“Hah, and who might this be, then? The headmaster of the Academy or something?”

“That’s Professor Winter Winslet!”

“Huh? Is a professor higher than the headmaster now? Did the laws change while I wasn’t looking?”

The woman let out a sigh.

“Do you seriously not know?”

“What would someone like me who lives digging in the dirt need to know high-ranking folks for?”

“In any case, just help the professor first. And please be polite.”

The old man, apparently named Moose, smacked his lips in displeasure. Then he reached under his hat and scratched his head vigorously.

I took a step back when dandruff began to fall.

“So, what can I help you find?”

“I’m looking for mandrake. Do you have any here?”

Moose nodded absentmindedly.

“Of course. There’s nothing we don’t grow in this garden. I personally manage everything. If it’s mandrake you’re after, it should be in the central greenhouse…”

Moose pulled out a book labeled “Cultivation Inventory” from his work desk and began flipping through it.

Stretching out the arm holding the book, he squinted to read the small print.

“Let’s see… Looks like we’re currently growing six roots in the garden.”

Six roots.

Not a lot, but not too few either.

Normally, two mandrake roots are needed to make one elixir. That meant enough for three elixirs.

And alchemy is a field where, with enough skill, you can double the efficiency of your ingredients.

If things went well, it might even be possible to produce up to six elixirs. Just as I was thinking that, Moose continued speaking.

“Of those six roots, the number I can give you, Professor, is one. It was planted about four months ago, so you’ll be able to use it sometime next year.”

…What?

“What about the other five roots?”

“Those are already reserved. You know how mandrakes take a long time to cultivate. Most people make reservations in advance, don’t they?”

Things were already starting to go sideways.