Chapter 121: Effort

“Hehehe... not bad, really not bad.”

Smoke drifted through the Dean’s office.

The Pink Bear lay sprawled across his brand-new faux-leather sofa, puffing on a premium cigar from the South Lock region while flipping through the just-acquired Saintess Photobook 2.0, occasionally letting out sleazy giggles.

This time’s edition didn’t just feature a model who resembled the real Saintess more closely—it also added “recreated classic scenes.”

For example: the famous purification of undead spirits in the Life Church graveyard by the former Immaculate Saintess. She held a solemn staff, eyes serene, radiating boundless holy light to cleanse the grotesque evil spirits—an image that inspired reverence in all who saw it.

But in the photobook, the “Saintess” was wearing an arousing, revealing sexy fantasy bikini that left little to the imagination.

“Tsk tsk... that sacred yet seductive contrast, the blend of angel and devil—genius. Truly genius. Just looking at this page feels like my soul is ascending to a higher realm. Damn, I’d really like to meet the genius behind this idea.”

Muttering with admiration, the Pink Bear flicked the ash from his cigar, then casually scratched his backside with the same fuzzy paw that protruded from his plush bear suit.

Ah... what bliss. This kind of leisurely slacking—if only it could—

“PINK BEAR!!”

A thunderous roar split the air as the office door was kicked open.

“Shit, back already?!”

The Pink Bear jolted upright, quickly shoved the photobook behind him, and looked up at the furious Professor Prang storming in.

“I wasn’t slacking! I wasn’t!”

“Slacking? That’s the least of my concerns,” Professor Prang snarled, his bloodshot eyes full of fury.

“...Eh?”

The Pink Bear blinked.

Slacking... wasn’t a big deal?

Was this really Professor Prang talking?

Last time, the guy had nearly ripped his costume open just because he took a thirty-minute nap during a hearing!

Why so lenient now?

He didn’t have time to figure it out—because next thing he knew, Prang let out a cruel sneer:

“Grab him.”

“Yes, sir!”

“On it!”

Instructor Kaide and Professor Garan popped out of who-knows-where, each seizing one of the Pink Bear’s arms.

“Wait—what?! What are you doing?!”

Sensing imminent doom, the Pink Bear began to struggle.

But Kaide and Garan were no slouches—strong, experienced fighters. Even he couldn’t break free under their combined strength.

Not to mention, right in front of him stood the Crowned-tier Professor Prang, glaring with deadly intent.

He was surrounded.

No escape.

But why?!

The Pink Bear stared in terror.

Did they... find out he’d secretly used Academy funds to buy cigars, sofas, and smut again?

“PINK BEAR! Look at this disaster you’ve caused!”

Just as he was thinking up excuses for misusing the budget, Professor Prang smacked a thick stack of papers in his face.

“What’s this...”

He looked down—and saw a profile photo.

A man with a massive knife scar across his face.

“Wait... isn’t this that guy...?”

He remembered.

“The one who was crushing on Muen Campbell?”

“Oh? So you do remember your ‘good deed’?”

“Good deed? Oh yeah, it was a good deed! I helped him pursue his true love, didn’t I?”

...Wait.

Looking at Professor Prang’s expression—like he wanted to stab him on the spot—an awful suspicion crept up his spine.

“Don’t tell me...”

“...They actually hit it off?!”

If that Duke’s son really swung that way, and he and the scarface had gotten together...

Oh no.

The Duke of Campbell would murder him. Personally. With fifty thousand troops.

I was just messing around! I didn’t know noble heirs had such freaky tastes!

And even if you’re into that, at least pick someone good-looking!

“...I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Professor Prang said coldly, “but I know it’s wrong.”

He pointed to a line in the file:

“I’m talking about this.”

“This...?”

The Pink Bear followed his finger—and saw the word written clearly under the man’s identity:

“Bandit.”

“B-Bandit?!”

His eyes went wide.

“He was a bandit?!”

“...”

Professor Prang stared at him for a beat.

“...You didn’t know?”

“How would I know?! I mean, sure, the guy looked like a bandit—but what, you think I’m the type to judge people based on appearances? Besides, he didn’t have the slightest scent of blood on him! A bandit who’s never killed? Would you believe that?”

“Couldn’t you have used the Academy’s intelligence system to check?! Do you have any idea what kind of scandal it is—for a bandit to become an instructor?!”

“...Wait, you guys have an intelligence system? What kind of school is this?!”

“Hmph. Not just intelligence. The Academy’s got a hidden armory too.”

“...An armory?!”

The Pink Bear blinked, then suddenly puffed up righteously:

“Is this... treason? Are you plotting a coup?! I’ll tell you now! As long as I, the Pink Bear, remain in office—such disgraceful behavior will never be tolerated! Let go of me right now and buy me the new limited-edition Saintess figurine as an apology, or I’m reporting you to His Majesty!!”

“...I’m done with this nonsense.”

Realizing this idiot was trying to derail the conversation, Prang cut straight to the point.

“Even if you’re just acting Dean, such a colossal blunder must be punished. There’s no getting out of this.”

“P-Punishment?”

The Pink Bear paled.

“What are you going to do to me? Make me work overtime until I die?!”

“That’s not a bad idea. But I have something better.”

Professor Prang sneered and suddenly reached behind the sofa...

Pulling out the Saintess Photobook.

“Prepare yourself for hell, Dean Pink Bear.”

With a grim expression, Prang opened the book to the first page.

Gripped it tightly.

And then—

RIPPPP—

With the sound of tearing paper, the sultry image of the “Saintess” split clean down the middle.

And the Pink Bear felt like his soul... was being torn in half with it.

“NOOOOO—!!”

...

...

“...You let him off that easy?”

In Professor Prang’s office, Professor Garan was calmly brewing tea.

He handed Prang a cup.

“This kind of mercy doesn’t suit you.”

“...Let him off? Hardly.”

Prang snorted.

“There’s still over a dozen disciplinary hearings lined up for that bastard. He thinks this is over?”

“For nobles, this kind of thing is unforgivable. They’re watching the Academy like hawks. You think they’ll let this slide?”

“Pfft, yeah, good point.”

Garan grinned and sipped the top-tier red tea he’d shamelessly mooched.

“Speaking of which, nothing else’s happened lately, right?”

Normally, Prang kept a close watch. If he hadn’t been so busy, Pink Bear wouldn’t have had the chance to appoint a bandit as a teacher.

“Nothing major. Peaceful as can be.”

But Garan’s smile was... ambiguous.

“No big incidents. Just one interesting little thing.”

“Oh?”

Prang raised an eyebrow.

“What little thing?”

“This.”

Garan handed over a newspaper.

“It’s small—but already making waves in the Academy.”

“...Huh.”

Prang scanned the front page.

“Muen Campbell Declares Bold Ambition: Will Score ‘Excellent’ on Next Magic Theory Fundamentals Exam!”

His brow twitched.

“‘Excellent’... So, eighty points? He’s testing with first-years?”

“Second-years,” Garan said, pointing lower on the page.

“...Second-years?”

Prang blinked—then scoffed.

“Impossible.”

“Oh? So sure?”

Garan smiled. “What if he gets lucky?”

“This isn’t something you achieve with luck.”

Prang tossed the paper aside.

“I’ve been a teacher long enough. I know what’s possible and what isn’t.”

“If he’d said sixty—I’d believe it. With full focus for a month and a good tutor, maybe.”

“But eighty? Absolutely not.”

Prang knew very well—in Magic Theory Fundamentals, the gap between sixty and eighty wasn’t something effort alone could bridge.

“What if, just maybe, he pulls off a miracle?” Garan asked, pressing the point.

“Miracle?”

Prang snorted.

He slapped his antique desk.

“I’ll say it again—if he actually does it, I’ll eat my desk.”

...

...

“...It’s really spread across the whole school?”

In the Ancient Potion Club room, Muen stared dumbfounded at the newspaper Anna handed him.

There it was—in huge, bold red font.

His dramatic outburst in the woods, printed for all to see.

With a cringey subtitle like “The Duke’s Son: Vowing a Comeback!”

He could already imagine the ripple this would cause in the otherwise peaceful Academy.

“...How does the News Club know everything? I’m pretty sure I didn’t tell anyone this time.”

“Junior, don’t underestimate President Mingot of the News Club.”

Anna handed him a cup of coffee.

Muen took it—and froze when he realized it had been brewed in a measuring beaker.

Was this how all science-goddess types lived?

“His position isn’t just for show. The guy can control birds with magic. Pretty much every bird in the Academy is one of his spies. Almost nothing escapes him.”

“...Bird control magic? So that’s it.”

With such a convenient magic, no wonder the News Club always gets first-hand information.

“What’s the matter? Scared, junior?”

Anna stirred the coffee in her beaker with a glass rod. Once the sugar cube dissolved, her pink tongue lightly licked the rod’s transparent tip, the sight positively seductive.

“Being watched by this many people isn’t exactly a good thing.”

“Scared?”

Muen composed himself, then gave a bitter smile.

“I’ve already gone all in—what is there left to be afraid of?”

He kept flipping through the newspaper. But when he reached the last page and saw the betting pool on whether he’d score an excellent grade, the corner of his mouth twitched uncontrollably.

“No way. They’re even betting on this? Just how bored are these people?”

“Studying is dull—you’ve got to find some fun in it,” Anna said with a soft laugh as she sipped her coffee.

“Oh? So that means you placed a bet too, senior?” Muen blinked and asked curiously. “Which side did you pick?”

“Which side?”

Anna rested her chin in one hand and asked in return,

“Which side would you like me to bet on?”

“I...”

Muen’s eyes shifted. He said,

“I hope you bet on the ‘he can’t’ side.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Anna asked. “Don’t you want me to believe in you?”

“Of course I do.”

Muen folded his hands beneath his chin and said seriously,

“But more than that, I don’t want you to lose your bet.”

“...Pfft. Even now you’re flirting with me—what a scumbag.”

Anna playfully slapped Muen on the head with the book in her hand, chuckling.

“Have some confidence in yourself, young man.”

“I want to,” Muen sighed. “But the way I bragged back then... it’s really hard to pull off now that I’ve calmed down.”

“So, are you planning to give up?” Anna tilted her head. “Honestly, even the sixty points you originally mentioned was already an impressive goal.”

“Give up?”

Muen lowered his head, staring at the table surface.

The lab desk was made of metal, spotless thanks to senior’s cleaning.

Like a copper mirror, it faintly reflected his own image.

The blond man in the reflection was clearly well-dressed and handsome, but to Muen, he looked utterly pathetic.

Unable to accomplish anything.

Unable to change anything.

Be it himself—or others.

Compared to Eamon, he looked more like the dog.

“Who said I’m giving up.”

Muen clenched his fist, like he was embedding the words deep into his soul.

“I’m not giving up. Not a chance!”

“Is that so?”

As if she’d been expecting this, Anna snapped her fingers.

A thick stack of books appeared in front of Muen.

“What’s this...”

“Workbooks,” Anna said.

“Since your goal has changed, our study methods have to change too. We can’t just limit ourselves to reviewing basic knowledge anymore. You need to do a large number of exercises based on the types of questions that might appear on the exam.

“After all, exams never just test what’s in the textbook.”

“I see.”

Muen came to a realization.

“So we’re going with the ‘flood of problems’ approach. Man, that brings back memories.”

“Memories?” Anna raised a curious brow. “You’ve done that before?”

“Haha, maybe in a dream...”

Facing Anna’s confusion, Muen could only chuckle dryly and brush it off.

After all, he couldn’t exactly say that in his previous life, he’d already experienced the infamous exam prep known as “flood tactics” for the most important test of his life—the college entrance exam.

Still, it felt very familiar.

This test—just like that one—would determine his future.

“In that case, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

He’d already been through it once, hadn’t he?

Anything, once you’ve done it once, becomes far less daunting the second time.

All he had to do was follow the steps, move forward one step at a time.

So...

“Bring it on, senior. Don’t go easy on this delicate flower—trample me as hard as you can!”

Muen spoke with a desperate resolve.

“Is that so? Then don’t cry to me later,” Anna grinned mischievously, lightly waving a pointer stick she’d pulled out from who-knows-where.

“Teacher Anna is very strict, you know.”

...

...

Nighttime.

In the dorm room.

The luminous stone Muen had purchased at a high price glowed brightly, illuminating the entire room.

Across from him, most rooms in the opposite dormitory building were already dark, save for a few lights in the upperclassmen’s rooms.

Night had long fallen, and Muen was still studying under the lamp.

At last, the stinging pain in his eyes became unbearable. He stopped, placing a warm towel over them.

Judging by the pre-prepared hot water, this scene had played out many times already.

“Looks like the human body really does have its limits.”

Rubbing his temples and feeling the warmth on his face, Muen sighed.

Even the body of a Second Rank Warrior couldn’t endure a whole day of nonstop studying. Especially fragile parts like the eyes were already starting to protest.

“If only there were a way to ignore physical fatigue...”

As he thought that, a realization hit him.

“Wait a second—I think I actually have a way!”

He didn’t even bother picking up the towel that slipped to the floor. Instead, he quickly sank his consciousness inward.

Black Book Space.

But this time, there was no assassin maid. No naked adventurer.

Not even darkness.

Under Muen’s deliberate control, the scenery transformed into... an ancient alchemy classroom.

The blue curtains his senior liked swayed gently, though nothing could be seen beyond the pitch-black window.

Muen ran his hand across the cold metal desk and couldn’t help but smile.

“This place really is the most peaceful.”

After a brief moment of sentimentality, Muen focused his thoughts and the workbook he’d just been working on appeared before him.

“Truth comes from practice—let’s try it out.”

He dove back into studying.

He didn’t know how much time passed.

Eventually, Muen surfaced from his deep focus, glanced at the time, and checked his physical state.

A delighted expression spread across his face.

“I’ve been studying for three hours straight. As expected, in the Black Book Space, my body doesn’t get tired.”

It made sense if you thought about it. In the Black Book Space, it was Muen’s consciousness doing the work. It consumed mental energy, not physical stamina. His body could actually rest while his mind kept going.

And as for his spirit... thanks to the rigorous combat training within the Black Book, Muen’s mental strength had long surpassed normal levels.

After all, someone who’d died countless times couldn’t possibly have a weak mind.

“So that means... I can even cut down my sleep time!”

His eyes lit up.

He didn’t need sleep to recover physical fatigue anymore. With about two hours of deep sleep, his mind would be fully recharged.

Which meant—he’d gained four extra hours of study time per day!

Muen clenched his fist in excitement.

Hard work never lies.

All the effort he put in seemed useless at first, but in the end, it repaid him in an unexpected way.

And now, the goal that once seemed completely out of reach... finally shimmered faintly in the darkness.

...

“But still, just mindlessly grinding questions without knowing what’s right or wrong feels really inefficient.”

As he kept working through the questions, Muen felt something was off.

After all, in this world, magic wasn’t exactly a common subject. It was mostly for nobles and geniuses. While a system had been developed, it wasn’t as universally standardized as the subjects from his past life.

Take the workbooks Anna had somehow collected, for example. They didn’t look like formal editions at all. More like a compilation of past exam questions and teacher assignments, some of it even handwritten.

Which meant—no answer key.

The point of flood tactics wasn’t just to do tons of questions mindlessly. It was about identifying weak spots and mistakes, then quickly reinforcing and consolidating those areas.

But if you didn’t even know what you got wrong, the whole point was lost. All you’d be doing was improving speed and repetition.

And for Muen right now, speed and repetition were completely meaningless.

“But if I wait until tomorrow and ask senior to correct them...”

Never mind whether she even had the time or energy. That kind of inefficiency totally went against Muen’s beliefs.

He needed another solution.

Muen rubbed his chin in thought.

His first idea was to hire some “tutors” to help him grade exercises.

After all, it’s not like he lacked money.

But that would take time—and there was no guarantee he’d find someone suitable.

So it wasn’t really a solution at all.

Still thinking, Muen’s gaze wandered—and happened to catch sight of the deep darkness beyond the swaying blue curtains.

Darkness...

Black...

A spark flickered in his mind.

“The Black Book!”

With Muen’s summon, the Black Book slowly materialized.

Only this time, it seemed a little... reluctant?

Not thinking much of it, Muen grabbed the book with excitement.

“You can do it, Black Book.”

He patted the workbook.

“Help me grade these!”

[...]

The Black Book remained silent.

“You definitely can.”

Seeing it unmoved, Muen’s eyes sharpened.

“Your ability is basically recording, right? You even know the weaknesses of Evil Gods. I refuse to believe you don’t know first-year Magic Theory basics!”

[...]

“You still haven’t made up for changing my fate without telling me, by the way.”

Sigh.

The familiar heavy sigh.

The pages of the workbook Muen had just completed began flipping rapidly.

Then, at the end of each question, tiny ✓s and ✗s began to appear.

“Thank you!”

Muen lit up with joy and quickly turned to the earliest pages, hunting for his mistakes.

But partway through, he suddenly turned toward the Black Book, expression serious.

“What were the basics of the three-step theory in magic again?”

[...]

The Black Book flipped its pages. {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} A perfect textbook-style explanation appeared before Muen.

“Thanks. Love you!”

He almost wanted to hug and kiss the Black Book.

It couldn’t be called a good teacher—but it was definitely an amazing textbook.

Wherever you were stuck, just tap—and sometimes, you didn’t even need to tap—it would bring up the right information automatically.

Who wouldn’t love a textbook like that?

...

As the long night wore on, Muen studied with total focus.

The Black Book floated at his side, occasionally flipping to reveal textbook knowledge—or notes from Anna’s lectures.

Muen improved rapidly.

And yet, even at this point, he seemed completely unaware—

He could have used the Black Book to cheat, breezing through the exams.

Or perhaps...

Cheating had never once crossed his mind.

...

...

“You’re late.”

In the Student Council room, Celicia said flatly to Veil, who had rushed in, dew still clinging to her hair.

“You’re exactly fifteen minutes late.”

“Hehe... President, spare me...”

Veil stuck out her tongue and pleaded.

“I was up late asking that Eamon stuff, so I overslept.”

“Really? Because when I went to see Eamon just now, he said you left at eight.”

“Uh...”

Veil’s cute face stiffened. She started wondering whether she should kneel or cling to the president’s leg to save her precious novels.

“Forget it.”

But this time, Celicia didn’t press further.

“Go make me a cup of coffee.”

“Right away.”

Veil was overjoyed and got to work quickly.

Soon, the scent of coffee wafted through the room.

Celicia clasped her hands behind her back and looked out the window.

Autumn deepened. The phoenix tree leaves scattered down, paving the quiet path in gold.

If someone stepped on them, they’d surely make a crisp, satisfying sound.

So beautiful—but on this silent morning, no one passed by.

“How many days has it been?” Celicia asked suddenly.

“Fifth day, I think.”

Veil assumed she was asking about Eamon’s situation. As she brewed the coffee, she muttered,

“That Eamon is so dumb. Drinking potion from a stranger, seriously? He didn’t even get a good look at the person’s face. If he were just a little smarter, we wouldn’t be so busy right now, right President...”

“Yeah, kind of dumb.”

Celicia turned her gaze away. But it wasn’t clear who she meant.

“But I haven’t seen him jogging in the mornings these past few days. It’s actually... kind of unsettling.”

...

...

“Ariel!”

On the way to class, Liya stared at Ariel, who was dazing off beside her. A hint of suspicion shone in her dewy eyes.

“You’ve been acting weird lately!”

“Eh? Have I?”

Ariel blinked back to focus.

“Must be your imagination.”

“It’s not! You space out in class, zone out while walking, and you keep giggling at a voice-transmission stone!”

Liya’s expression turned stern.

“You’re not still thinking about that woman, are you? Didn’t the professor say she was fake?”

“No! Definitely not!”

Ariel cut her off instantly and, in a dramatic flourish, took Liya’s hand and spoke with deep emotion:

“Right now, my eyes only see you, Liya.”

“Oh my, you’re so annoying...”

Liya’s cheeks flushed and she looked shy.

If Ariel was saying that, then fine—she’d forgive her.

But just as she was about to say something, she noticed Ariel’s gaze had wandered off again.

“That’s...”

Following her line of sight, she saw a blond man sitting under a tree, fully immersed in his book, occasionally scribbling notes with his pen.

“Muen Campbell, huh.”

Liya recognized him immediately.

“I heard he made a bold claim—he said he’d score an 80 on the next Magic Theory exam. Not sure if that’s true.”

“Hmph, just trying to stir up attention.”

Ariel sneered.

“He only got a 3 last semester. Now he wants 80? Starting to study now? Ridiculous. He’d be better off taking the first-year test.”

“True. But this rumor’s gotten really big. Lots of people are talking. Oh right—”

As if she just remembered, Liya said,

“Did you place a bet, Ariel?”

“Hm? Why do you ask?”

“Because you seem like the type who’d get caught up in this kind of fun.”

“...”

Ariel fell silent. Then her lips curled into a devilish smile.

“As expected of you, Liya. You really know me. But I only bet a little—just two hundred Emille.”

“Two hundred?! Isn’t that your entire week’s food money?”

Liya looked worried.

“I remember last time you bet your food money too. You ended up eating black bread for a whole week! If you keep this up, you’ll end up malnourished. What if your chest actually shrinks?!”

“No way that’s happening!”

Ariel flared up, then declared confidently,

“Last time I forgot Muen Campbell had a super strong dad. That’s why I lost. But this time is different!”

Even the teachers who specialize in magic said it’s impossible—so it must be impossible!

“Just wait. This time I’ll get back everything I lost—including my pride and my lunch money!” Ariel laughed, hands on her hips.

“But... isn’t the current odds ratio 1 to 20? Most people don’t believe in Muen Campbell either. So even if you win... you won’t make much,” Liya whispered cautiously.

“...”

Ariel’s smile froze. Her face contorted in rage.

“Damn you, Muen Campbell!”

...

...

“I’ve decided. I’m betting all my allowance this month!”

In the Magic Arts Club, a twin-tailed girl slammed her piggy bank down.

“One-to-twenty? Who do they think they’re looking down on? Is Muen really that hopeless in their eyes? Just because they say he can’t—I believe he can!”

“Yeah, me too! I’m betting all my allowance!”

“Screw those haters! Long live solo-stanning!”

The other two girls chirped in agreement, practically ready to roll up their sleeves and fight for Muen themselves.

“Emma, Arwa, Amy...”

Senior Fanny sighed as she glanced at the three fired-up girls.

“Calm down. It’s not that we don’t believe in Muen Campbell. It’s just... the goal he set is too difficult. Even the teachers think it’s impossible.”

“So what!”

Emma slapped the table in fury.

“True love is unbeatable! Long live idols! If I say Muen can do it—then he definitely can!”

“Yeah!”

“Agreed!”

“...”

Seeing the three little girls all fired up, practically rubbing their fists together like they’d start throwing punches if anyone said a bad word about Muen Campbell—even at their own senior—Fanny couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of her mouth.

Rabid fangirls were seriously terrifying.

But then, she couldn’t help but wonder... maybe she should place a small bet on Muen Campbell too, just for fun?

If she lost, it wouldn’t hurt much. But if she won... a twenty-fold return was certainly tempting.

And besides—

What if, just as those girls said... he really did pull it off?

...

...

After the Silent Moon invasion incident, nothing major had happened since. The Academy seemed to have finally entered a long-awaited period of peace.

The leisurely life Muen had been hoping for had arrived as promised—except he himself had no time to enjoy it.

This stretch of time was anything but idle.

Aside from two hours of sleep per day, thirty minutes for meals (three total), and an hour to take care of miscellaneous tasks (bathing, commuting, bathroom, etc.), Muen poured nearly every waking moment into one subject:

Magic Theory – Basic Concepts.

Now that Senior had caught up with Professor Fulan’s lecture progress, Muen began attending her classes as well.

He didn’t sit in a noticeable seat, choosing instead a quiet corner by the window, where he listened carefully to Professor Fulan’s lectures, comparing and reinforcing what he’d learned from Senior.

Every now and then, he would raise his hand to ask questions. And Professor Fulan—who was no longer afraid of him—would respond thoroughly and seriously.

Truth be told, aside from being emotionally excitable, Professor Fulan was indeed a good teacher.

Though for some reason, every time Muen sat by the window, Ariel would shoot him a few nasty glares.

That left him scratching his head—when had he pissed her off again?

...

Time flowed on.

And finally, the day before the exam arrived.

In the ancient alchemy classroom, Anna closed her book and declared the final lesson finished.

“All right, that’s the last of it. Time to take a break, junior.”

“No need. I’m not tired yet.”

Muen didn’t even glance her way. As soon as the lesson ended, he opened a workbook and resumed grinding through problems without a moment’s pause.

Anna lowered her gaze, silently observing Muen.

His beautiful blond hair had grown longer, but clearly hadn’t been cared for in a while—covering his ears and eyebrows, it gave him a slightly disheveled appearance.

His uniform was messy too, riddled with unpressed creases. Even his tie was crooked. For a noble-born young master, this was unimaginable.

And on that handsome face—though still tinged with a healthy flush—the fatigue in his eyes was plain to see.

Mental exhaustion. The kind that came from a stubborn soul pushing forward day after day, without a single moment of rest. The aftereffects of relentless effort.

“Speaking of which, Muen, it feels like we haven’t done any club activities in a while, have we?”

“Huh? Now?”

Muen lifted his head, confused.

“Right now,” Anna nodded seriously, like a mischievous girl tugging an adult’s sleeve for candy.

“Well... okay.”

There was no way Muen could refuse such a small request from Senior. He gave a helpless smile and said,

“Then please make it quick. My time is tight—I still need to review all the key points before the exam tomorrow.”

“It’ll be fast. Just drinking a potion.”

Anna chuckled lightly, clearly premeditated. She set a black-colored bottle—so dark you couldn’t see the contents—on the desk in front of him.

“Drink up.”

“This... isn’t going to have any weird effects, right?”

Muen still hadn’t gotten over the last time.

“Relax. This time, I promise—no problems.”

“Well... all right...”

Out of trust for Senior—or maybe out of a desire to get it over with quickly so he could return to studying—Muen didn’t even ask what the potion did this time. He just downed it in one gulp.

“With this, I can...”

Before he could finish the sentence, his vision blurred.

Thump.

He collapsed onto the desk.

A moment later, rhythmic snoring filled the air. For the first time in a month, Muen fell into a deep, sweet sleep.

In the quiet alchemy classroom, Anna rested her chin in one hand, watching him. She couldn’t help but reach out and stroke his hair.

“Sleep well, junior. You’ve done enough.”