episode_0028

Time flew by in an instant.

Is this what they call the joy of learning? I think I understand now why older folks attend school so eagerly.

Though I had to repeatedly apologize and explain myself to every new professor and student in each class I entered, I believe my sincerity shone through all the more because of it.

“That concludes today’s lecture.”

With the end of Magical Construct Studies, it was time for lunch on my schedule.

Even at Phend Academy, where students create flexible schedules like in university, human physiology dictates hunger—so most students had lunch around the same time as me. The academy knew this too and left this period mostly free from classes.

“What to eat… what to eat…”

Muttering to myself as I walked down the hallway, I had no choice but to stop.

I had just realized something critically important.

“Where am I even supposed to eat?”

I didn’t just not know today’s menu—I didn’t even know where I could eat.

This time around, I’d been confined to the mansion, subsisting on lukewarm soups and the like. In the first iteration of the world, I hadn’t paid much attention to meals either, deeming it a waste of money and time better spent saving the world—so I’d survived on preserved or instant meals. As a result, my knowledge of nearby restaurants was basically nonexistent.

The other students had already dashed out the moment class ended, so I couldn’t ask for help or stealthily follow them.

“Damn it…”

I couldn’t help but resent my past self for being so needlessly industrious, but there was nothing I could do now. The crisis had already arrived, and there was no avoiding it.

“Hmm…”

I ran through possible locations in my head. After all, the reason I’m working so hard now is ultimately just to survive.

The Imperial Market outside?

It was close, sure, but that place was strictly for ingredients and daily necessities. Finding a proper restaurant district would be difficult. Of course, I could ask around, but even if I found one, the time it’d take to eat and return would be excessive.

The academy’s dining hall and the market’s eateries were in completely different places. The idea of me—someone aiming to be a top student—being late on the very first day? Ridiculous.

So, I erased the market as an option.

The second possible location came to mind surprisingly quickly: the Student Council room.

An elite among elites, the council was an organization reserved only for the most talented at Phend Academy.

A position so glorified on paper, yet so wretched in reality.

The current members were all monsters who surpassed mere geniuses—normal students wouldn’t last a day there.

Eating a meal among those women?

With all four members of the Hero Party (except me) being part of it?

Sure, I could. Chris was currently the assistant secretary, and as someone considered part of the council’s “family,” technically, I had the privilege of eating meals with them—special dietary privileges included.

Of course, even such conveniences had their limits. The executives weren’t fond of these privileges and had even considered abolishing them.

Vice President Elia and Discipline Officer Cecilia were particularly vocal about it. The president might not care, but barging in shamelessly for a meal when everyone else opposed it?

That would be suicide.

So, the Student Council room was off the list too.

That left only one option: the academy’s public dining hall.

Given my circumstances, this should’ve been my first thought, but I’d actively avoided considering it for one simple reason—

It was disgusting.

The food here might have had more variety than the meals back at the mansion, but the taste was worlds apart.

The soups prepared by top-tier chefs using premium ingredients couldn’t possibly compare to this.

In contrast, the academy meals were designed solely to provide the bare minimum nutrition. The ingredients and cooking methods weren’t remotely on par with the mansion’s fare. Even the packaged and instant meals I used to eat were better.

So, even if the academy’s menu technically counted as a “proper meal,” in terms of quality, the mansion’s leftovers were superior.

Some might call me spoiled, with a noble’s refined palette. Like a child throwing a tantrum over simple dissatisfaction.

But what of it?

Craving delicious food is human nature.

And after everything I’ve endured, wasn’t it only natural to want to indulge in every pleasure this time around without lifting a finger?

Growl~

“God damn it.”

I trudged forward with heavy steps.

No matter how much I complained, today’s meal would still be academy food.

Then again, maybe my memory had exaggerated how bad it was. Surely even hastily prepared meals couldn’t be worse than instant food.

——

“Ugh.”

Nothing is impossible in this world, and my memory was more accurate than I’d thought.

Now I understood why the majority of the academy’s hundreds of students stampeded outside like frenzied beasts the moment lunch began.

The real question wasn’t “Where should I eat today?”

It was, “Will I even manage to eat here today?”

I forced myself to swallow the last piece of meat in my mouth.

Half-dried, twisted vegetables. Dry, crumbly meat. Watery, flavorless soup. And rock-hard bread.

A menu embodying poverty itself.

Sure, there was variety, but with cooking this bad, it hardly mattered.

Logistically, the academy had to prepare enough food for every student under any circumstances—so naturally, they cut costs where they could.

First, the quality of the food.

If that wasn’t enough, they cut labor costs.

And if that still wasn’t enough, ingredient quality followed.

Even as the most prestigious academy, Phend’s resources weren’t infinite. Inviting renowned scholars, upkeep of facilities, healing costs from training, maintaining magic arrays and buildings—everything added up.

So, the director made his choice—trim expenses where possible. And food was the easiest to slash.

Most students here didn’t need to eat in this hellhole anyway.

Apart from me, the students still in the dining hall were either too embarrassed or too preoccupied scarfing down their meals to raise their heads.

A few unlucky souls who couldn’t leave or had no choice were mixed in, but most were non-humans—beastfolk, elves, dwarves.

They had come from foreign lands, paying steep tuition annually—spare money for food was likely nonexistent.

As the best representatives of their kind, they probably felt they couldn’t afford to inconvenience anyone.

Not that the academy cared—these weren’t the students they expected to benefit the Empire.

But I saw value here.

In a crisis like the Demon King’s invasion, it wasn’t the Empire’s peace or the academy’s prestige that mattered.

It was selfless people like these—those willing to sacrifice even their own meals for others—who would be needed.

Last time, I was too busy handling everything alone. But this time, I had room to recruit capable allies.

And maybe, just maybe, find a friend or two while I was at it. That might make this miserable meal a little more bearable.

I picked up my tray and approached the nearest elf.

“Excuse me… um, if it’s okay—”

“E-Eek?! D-Don’t come near meeeee!!”

Before I could finish, she snatched her tray and bolted to the far end of the hall.

Elven speed was no joke.

“……”

Fair. First tries rarely succeed. Elves were naturally wary of outsiders—of course she’d distrust a stranger.

Next, I tried addressing a dwarf seated a little farther away.

Dwarves and humans had long shared a relationship of mutual aid—surely she wouldn’t reject me as harshly. The Grave family alone had a dwarven merchant guild supplying weapons to our knights.

“Hey, if you don’t mind—”

“Piss off.”

“Got it.”

Yeah… this might be harder than I thought.