#037 The Model Student of the One-eyed Country (4)

The tale of Chrome Midas and Kaspar Hundert quickly spread far and wide, leading to Chrome being summoned by the professor for admonishment and disciplinary action due to excessive violence.

No, many students anticipated this would occur.

And they still didn’t quite grasp the kind of absurd academy they had stepped into.

“Well, it was a mutual agreement to duel, and there were no casualties, no irreversible injuries, no civilian damage, no property destruction, and you didn’t skip class. Hmm. No problem at all! Oh, you say he used enhancements that weren’t taught in class? I’m not so rigid that I’d complain about students getting private tutoring.”

The insane female professor, notorious for hurling insults at candidates in preliminary tests and breaking the necks of those who resisted her judgments at a 90-degree angle, issued such a ruling, leaving students shivering at the name appended to the title of “Campus Security Director,” Istel von Lebenshtein.

Ah, of course, it was undeniably a perfect choice for maintaining campus order.

If she didn’t, she’d get beaten up.

The head of the Hundert family, having grasped the ins and outs of the incident, wisely opted not to express dissatisfaction with Istel’s ruling or request punishment for Chrome, thereby preserving the family’s dignity. Instead, he called his son home and gave him a warm love tap, resulting in a reduction of enrolled students from 184 to 183, thus wrapping up the incident.

However, just because the incident concluded didn’t mean the repercussions vanished.

Some were displeased to learn that Chrome Midas had beaten up a ‘noble’, while others furrowed their brows at the sheer brutality exhibited during the duel. There were also those who shook their heads at Chrome’s persistence in making the opponent surrender with the use of potions.

Some focused on Chrome Midas’s exceptional skills, while others scrutinized the reaction of the princess that led to the duel. There were even a few who felt a rush of satisfaction at the mere fact that a haughty noble had been knocked down.

Whether the reactions were positive or negative, it was a moment when the name ‘Chrome Midas’ engraved itself into the minds of many, rather than merely being referred to as the “malicious nouveau riche of House Midas.”

As I’ve mentioned a few times before, “The Greedy Debauchee” is not exactly a combat-suitable template.

It’s mediocre whether in the physical realm or the magical realm, and it lacks dedicated attributes that would directly assist in combat.

Sure, there’s plenty of money and it’s powerful in item farming, so it’s great for arming oneself with powerful items, but if you disregard item prowess and only consider pure specs, you’re looking at a 3-tier reserve. If you’re being generous, maybe 2.5 tiers.

It’s incomparable to the pure combat templates like “Nameless Demon,” “Heir of the Red and Blue Blood,” or “Proud Barbarian,” and even when compared to top-tier companions like Crow Bain or the Pendevig siblings in their respective domains, it’s lacking.

But—this evaluation emerges when considering those who are protagonists of “Planetarium” or comparable geniuses, meaning you won’t be dismissed by a nameless magic user.

Even if you pit an underperforming “Greedy Debauchee” against someone after downing a couple of enhancement potions before the duel, winning shouldn’t be too hard. In fact, with two extra years of boosted specs, there’s no way I should lose to some pathetic guy like that.
The fact that the ‘dyeing’ process hadn’t fully progressed yet worked to my advantage.

If it had been a proper fight with the “Red Light” and “Blue Light,” there’s no way it could have ended so unilaterally. The opponent’s enhancement efficiency would have skyrocketed, while mine would have plummeted.

Regardless, I triumphed, managed to chase away the raging wild boar, and could spread the word of my name.

“Even if I’ve made a name for myself, it seems to be in infamy.”

“I don’t mind! It’s better than being seen as an easy target here.”

“True, people do seem to gossip less about you openly since you fought.”

People despise villains and look down on the weak.

If I had hidden from the princess as he suggested, or if I had just let the insults slide, the situation would have only worsened.

After all, not only would the rumors about that jerk be bad, he would also be seen as having no pride and being an easy mark.

Honestly, it’s a whole lot better to be treated like a tough nut right now.

“And, the difference between merely being poisonous and being a competent poisoner is vast.”

Moreover, within the academy, there exists a very straightforward indicator to demonstrate one’s competence.

The alchemy I chose as an elective was a subject with quite an ambiguous standing.

First off, it required a hefty sum to learn.

Just like scientific experiments that can only be done with a measuring cup, to genuinely start alchemy, a variety of equipment was needed, and every single one of those required money.

It wasn’t enough to just have the equipment; one also had to secure a variety of materials and reagents, which in turn necessitated a workshop to process them safely.

At this point, it was a field that regular folks couldn’t just dabble in lightly.

But just having riches like a noble didn’t mean one could easily take it up either, as there was an overwhelming amount to learn.

Even considered under the umbrella of being an alchemist, there were specializations ranging from potion-making, to Mystic Stone processing, to scroll production, each needing distinct expertise. And even when it came to potions, they could vary into healing types, detoxifying types, or those with other effects.

This naturally required a vast amount of time and effort, and the societal perception didn’t particularly appreciate those efforts either.

It’s like how in the military, while supply is as crucial as anything, most would want to achieve merit on the battlefield rather than be a supply officer.

Spending time in a cramped space, experimenting and handling various chemicals was far too ordinary by noble standards.

And this ambiguous position of alchemy was indeed the perfect condition for me to thrive.

During alchemy class, the professor in charge, Faust Hemming, was evaluating the students’ projects.

“The heating time was too long. At this rate, the efficacy is nil. Be more careful next time.”

“The ratio of dried forget-me-not petals to resin powder is off. Even slight weight differences can alter effectiveness, so get accustomed to using scales.”

“Wait a moment, why did you reverse the order of ingredient addition?”
Most of the students who received feedback wore subtle expressions, thinking that Professor Faust was nitpicking over trivial matters.

“Come on, it’s just a few minutes; how different can it be?”

“Is it really that much of a deal over a pinch of powder?”

“Does the order even matter when we’re just going to mix everything anyway?”

Part of the reason was that the alchemy class was far more tedious than the students anticipated.

They simply processed predetermined materials in fixed quantities following a strict procedure.

To make matters worse, they had to wash the instruments they used and ensure not a drop of water was left on them, which was quite the bother.

For students of noble birth, such tasks should have been left to the servants.

“Tsk tsk, I even suggested that alchemy should be set apart from supporting subjects and instead establish a dedicated educational institution.”

It wasn’t as if Professor Faust was oblivious to such students’ thoughts.

The qualification of a Magic User was a rare talent, and many of the items created through alchemy required the creator to possess this qualification.

So, on the surface, it seemed rational to simultaneously nurture students with the potential for alchemy while developing Magic Users.

The problem, however, was that the remaining students at this academy were members who had passed through Istel von Lebenshtein’s grueling selection process.

The entrance exam itself made it nearly impossible to survive without strength, so the students who survived all had basic skills and consequently were quite passionate.

Would they really comply when asked to act according to precise recipes with flasks or scales instead of weapons?

Of course, if a talented warrior was also well-versed in alchemy and adept in crafting various magic tools, the synergy would be tremendous, but that didn’t rectify the arduous nature of teaching.

“It’s fortunate that they are provided sufficient resources so they don’t have to worry about materials, but no matter how good the environment is, the students being like this means they will have to struggle. …Hmm?”

As Faust continued evaluating the students’ projects, a particular student’s creation caught his eye.

“Oh, splendid! I can’t believe this is your first time; the quality is remarkable.”

What was surprising wasn’t just the potion itself.

The desk used for the experiment was impeccably clean, and the instruments were organized, ready for the next experiment at any moment.

In some sense, this was worthy of even higher praise than simply crafting a good potion.

Many alchemists were quite proficient at making potions but often left their workshops in a disarray because of their poor tidying skills.

“Was it Chrome Midas who made this? Perfect craftsmanship.”

“Too kind, Professor,” said the boy, wearing gold-framed monocles, as he flashed a grin.