#15. I’ll Just Do It Now

“I have a question.”

If an irritating presence continues to catch one’s eye, how would most people act?

They’d avoid it.

It’s obvious. As long as they’re not in my sight, it doesn’t matter what they do. I suppose most people would agree.

But situations where one *must* ‘see’ are bound to exist.

Now is one such time.

Me, a student.

And Professor Felliana Mirrion.

As a professor, she has a duty to resolve the curiosities of her students.

Though of course, she could avoid it by saying she doesn’t take questions, or to ask after class.

“…Speak.”

Professor Felliana isn’t that type.

“Regarding the healing potion, you described it as the democratization of talent, Professor.”

“Indeed. Are you curious as to why I used such a phrase?”

“That is also true, but…”

One mustn’t ask frivolous questions.

Even for Professor Felliana, if she deems a question unworthy of an answer, she won’t entertain any further inquiries.

Therefore, I must ask a more incisive question.

“By what principle is ‘talent’ democratized? Is it simply democratization if it is widely dispersed?”

Reasonable.

Something others would be curious about as well.

And something that might make the person being questioned feel…

That sort of question.

“…”

Professor Felliana was silent for a moment. Her gaze, fixed upon me as she stood there, almost felt like a glare.

The silence soon broke.

“I will answer.”

Professor Felliana put down the textbook she was holding and stepped forward slightly.

“Talent isn’t something that must necessarily be held only by the few.”

I sat back down and listened to her words.

“If some ‘product’ containing someone’s talent in its entirety can be used by everyone…”

Professor Felliana was speaking to everyone.

“Then that can be called the democratization of talent.”

But it also felt like she was speaking to me.

“Now, let us continue with the lecture.”

Thus, the ‘first’ answer concluded.

Professor.

My question doesn’t end with just one.

I’ve prepared many.

Professor Felliana’s lecture continued.

“Professor, I have a question.”

And so did my questioning.

“Professor? I don’t understand this part.”

Continues.

“Professor!”

Unceasingly.

“A question!”

It plagued her.

“I have one!”

Right until the lecture’s end.

“…Time’s up, I see. We’ll conclude the lecture here today.”

One hour and fifteen minutes of class time.

During which, a total of eighteen questions were asked.

By the end, Professor Felliana was rather haggard.

Things one is forced to do, against one’s will, always seem to make a person that way.

“And Rein Ortiz.”

Of course, the plan wasn’t over yet.

“Come with me.”

That’s just human nature, isn’t it?

When you’ve been done wrong, you inevitably want to return the favor.

In a way, my plan is only now beginning.

*

Annoyance welled up.

No, it was beyond mere annoyance.

It was anger.

“I have a question.”

That goddamn question.

A question so logically sound, she couldn’t refuse it.

“…We’ll continue the lecture, then.”

From some point on, the question didn’t even disrupt the lecture’s flow, making it all the more difficult to shut down!

For one hour and fifteen minutes, Felliana was bombarded with questions.

Normally, she wouldn’t even use the word “bombarded.” After all, students rarely asked questions in her lectures. If anything, Felliana welcomed them.

But the fact that Rein Ortiz was the one asking turned the situation into ‘bombardment.’

That little b*stard.

He’s definitely…

“I! Have! A question!”

Harboring impure intentions.

There was a clear intent behind all those questions.

An intent designed so that only Felliana Mirreon and Rein Ortiz could understand it.

Because of that, she couldn’t give in to her anger.

For her rage to be justified, she’d have to explain the reason behind it.

A professor stooping to being petty just to fight with a student? Unthinkable.

“…Time’s up, I see.”

And so, she waited.

Until the lecture concluded.

“That’s all for today’s lecture.”

Finally, the lecture ended.

“And, Reine Ortiz.”

She called out.

“Follow me.”

Alone, the need for decorum diminished considerably.

Meaning, there was no need to justify anything.

The emotions that had been building for an hour and fifteen minutes could finally be unleashed.

Pelliana walked with rapid strides. A stride headed toward the research lab.

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t ask any more questions.”

“Why?”

Goddamn it.

Even now, that blasted kid was getting under my skin.

*Bang*.

The lab door slammed shut. Locked immediately.

Entrance and exit vanished simultaneously, but she didn’t care. She didn’t have an assistant, so there was no one else who needed to leave, anyway.

“Reine Ortiz.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Perhaps it was because all eyes were now gone.

She, in reverse, became composed.

Pelliana Mirne is a Professor.

No matter what others think of her, the fact that she holds a professorship remains unchanged.

A professor should treat a student like a professor.

If she loses her temper here and unleashes her emotions as they are, she would just be giving that kid what he wants.

“How was today’s lecture?”

“Good.”

“Easy?”

“Yes.”

Of course it was.

She was enraged by the barrage of questions, but at the same time, she had to assess them.

A genius is a genius.

Every question Reine Ortiz threw out was proof that he was listening to the lecture properly.

Rather, his questions pierced the gaps in the lecture. The answers to his questions became ‘additional explanations’.

This was an undeniable fact.

Even though she had dragged him all the way here, she still had no right to reprimand the questions themselves.

“I have a question for you too.”

However, she may not have the right to reprimand, but she had many other rights.

“I want to hear what you think about alchemy.”

The right to, say, question.

Questions were not the sole province of students.

Professors, too, possessed the right to question students.

Raine paused, considering, before answering.

“I believe it a field of study absolutely essential.”

“You wouldn’t desire to learn more, then?”

“I desire to learn more.”

Their exchange felt somewhat lacking.

Felliana’s sudden question felt unnatural, and Raine’s contrived response concealed something.

Both individuals present had long since sensed this, yet neither pointed it out.

Their aims were too similar.

‘Looking confident, aren’t we.’

Felliana clearly acknowledged Raine. But that acknowledgement extended only to his ‘genius’; she hadn’t conceded defeat.

It was an irony. Without a single promise exchanged, they had, before they knew it, entered a competition.

It mattered not.

She didn’t care for the breed of genius.

No, to be precise, she disliked them.

In that regard, Raine Ortiz was the worst sort of person.

She wanted to subdue him.

To make him admit that talent meant nothing.

‘You were the one who issued the challenge, Raine Ortiz.’

Felliana flashed a peculiar smile.

A smile possessed of an aura that could freeze its recipient.

“Raine Ortiz.”

“Yes.”

“Do you imagine your talents will hold sway here as well?”

A question heavy with intention.

To answer in the affirmative here would signify the commencement of a duel.

“So long as it concerns scholarship, yes.”

Raine chose to accept.

“My laboratory contains various medications.”

Confirming his acceptance, Felliana moved. To a bookshelf.

However, her bookshelf held no books. Instead, it housed the aforementioned medications.

Felliana retrieved two vials containing the same liquid.

“These are the restoration potions we learned about today. Do you discern the difference between the two?”

“…No.”

The first negation.

Understandable. The drugs held no apparent differences.

“One is a potion I crafted, and the other, one crafted by a student. How about now, do you see the difference?”

Raine Ortiz negated it again.

“I don’t see it.”

Feliana was a touch surprised. She’d expected him to say something different this time.

“Correct. They have the exact same ingredients, only made by different hands.”

Well, no matter.

That wasn’t the real point.

She turned back to the bookshelf.

“Alchemy is a science like this. If the proportions of the ingredients are right, the same result is born no matter who makes it. No magical engineering skills are necessary, nor physical talents like swordsmanship.”

This time, she brought forth the ‘ingredients’ for a healing potion. Ingredients meant for Rein.

“Here, only effort counts. Whatever other talents you possess are useless, you see?”

“Is that so?”

“I have an assignment for you.”

Feliana began to scribble on a piece of paper. A note detailing the assignment.

“Make a healing potion within a week. If the performance of your potion is even slightly better than the existing ones, I promise you the highest mark.”

It was an impossible task.

The optimal proportions for healing potions had already been found through countless studies. To find a better ratio in just a single week was out of the question.

Feliana was confident.

Confident she would never lose.

“No.”

And that confidence…

“I’ll just do it now.”

Shattered in precisely ’29 seconds’.