Chapter 84

Chapter 84

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 84: Contact Reversal – Became A Prospective Graduate Student Obsessed By Professors (1).

“I won’t be leaving this place for a while.”

“Why not?”

Rustila’s expression turned unexpectedly serious. It was as if a patriot who had lost her country stood before me.

She stammered, clutching my hand. “B-But the new semester is starting soon. Don’t you have to go back to the academy?”

Why did she look so frightened? It wasn’t as though we would never see each other again. Then it hit me; she was worried about Ceti.

I hadn’t told Rustila that Ceti had awakened because we were collaborating on a thesis. Knowing her feelings for Ceti was as strong as mine, I was sure she would bolt the moment she found out.

“Let’s just leave now, okay? The warden already gave us permission.”

Rustila tugged at my sleeve, shivering like a child caught in a misdeed. Her eyes, wide and pleading, almost made me relent.

“My sister woke up,” I finally confessed.

“What, really…?”

“You seem skeptical.”

“No, if you say so, I believe you.”

I thought about showing her an email to prove it, but it seemed unnecessary. Fortunately, the potential disaster of exposing my sister’s less-flattering traits was averted. I am, after all, her loyal brother.

Rustila was on the verge of storming out the door, her every gesture screaming an urgent desire to head to the southern sanctuary where Ceti awaited. It was almost like watching a piece of performance art.

Then she paused.

“Oh.”

“What?” I asked as she set her bag down again.

“It’s nothing.”

“Why are you unpacking? You looked ready to leave any second.”

Rustila flopped back onto the cot with a thud, lying on her side and fixing me with a glare. Her deep blue eyes seemed to radiate a profound intensity.

“I’ve thought it over, and I’ve decided it’s better to stay,” she said with a soft chuckle, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. “If you’re staying, then I’ll stay too.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“You’ll need me for your next paper, right?”

She reached into her waistband and pulled out a note.

“Do you remember the bet you and Verdia made at the start?”

“A bet?”

“You promised to grant a wish if the paper was completed within three months.”

“That’s right.”

The memory came flooding back as Rustila unfolded the note and held it out for me to see.

Receive Rustila’s help for the next paper publication

“You’re so mischievous,” I said.

Her lips curved into a smile at my words.

“Anyway, I’ll be here until the end of the break. I even got my mom’s permission.”

It felt like a declaration of cohabitation. Cohabitation in a prison, of sorts. With Verdia around, nothing significant should happen, and since I’m not completely irrational, there shouldn’t be any major issues.

“Your parents actually agreed to this?”

“Yes.”

Goosebumps prickled my skin. What had persuaded Rustila’s notoriously strict parents to consent to such an arrangement? The thought was fleeting; it wasn’t a mystery I could solve by mere speculation.

Regardless, this deviation from the novel’s original plot was a good sign. It suggested a future free from the ruin that had been foretold.

“Ahem.”

Sonia, who had been silent beside me, cleared her throat and entered the conversation.

“What did you write in the note, miss?”

“Oh, that?” She gave a coy smile. “It’s a secret.”

“…”

“It’s all in the past, right? Just pretend it never happened and tell us.”

“Sonia, it’s impolite to press a lady about such matters.”

“Sir, I’d appreciate it if you would mind your own business.”

Seeing Rustila’s warm smile, I felt our relationship had deepened significantly. If this progress continued, she would undoubtedly become the youngest Great Omega rank swordsman. Her handling of ether had become more precise during our research sessions—a promising development.

“Shall we go for lunch then?”

“Eating out?”

“We can go out freely. We’re not prisoners, after all.”

“You’re right.” I paused, trying to recall the last time I ventured outside. It was all a blur now.

“Here, I know a good restaurant.”

Taking the lead, Rustila grasped my hand. Verdia looked somewhat troubled, and the ever-silent Sonia trailed behind us slowly.

To exit, we had to navigate through the central hall, which was always bustling with the confined inmates. The familiar chaos greeted us.

Clang! A nearby iron bar rattled loudly, causing Rustila and me to turn our heads instinctively.

Inmate 888887

She had black hair and black eyes, an unremarkable appearance except for the way she clung to the bars, her body shaking intensely.

“You, you, why are you here…?” she stammered.

I pulled out my notebook, jotted down her inmate number, and observed her symptoms. Her stutter seemed worse than before.

“……Why on earth, no, more than that, if this happens, oh, it shouldn’t be like this.”

Rustila leaned in, her expression clouded with concern.

“……Aidel, do you know her?”

“No. Do you?”

“It’s my first time seeing her too.”

The only explanation was a sudden flare-up of her madness. The more I observed, the more unsettling it felt. I needed to resume my research soon.

Even as we walked to the restaurant and during our meal, my mind was occupied. What should be the focus of my next research? It was time to initiate the first phase of the development plan Cartesia had proposed. However, the challenge was the immense amount of funding it required…

“Ah!”

The sharp exclamation made me whirl around, only to see Rustila crumpled on the ground.

“Ouch…”

“Are you okay?” I asked, rushing to her side.

“I think I twisted my ankle,” she grimaced, looking more like a fragile young girl than the formidable Sword Master she was known to be.

I let out a soft sigh and extended my hand. “I’ll help you up.”

“Don’t just help, carry me.”

“Are you really that hurt?”

“Yes.”

Before I could respond, Sonia stepped forward. “Miss Rustila, allow Sonia or Verdia to assist you.”

“No, you don’t have to…”

“It’s a fundamental principle of robotics to aid those in distress,” Sonia insisted. “It’s only natural for androids to serve humans. Please, don’t be shy and get on my back.”

Rustila hesitated, then reconsidered. “Actually, I might be able to walk.”

“There’s no need to feel embarrassed.”

With a little support, Rustila managed to find her footing and soon walked with normal strides. It reminded me of the old tales that spoke of star blessings healing minor wounds swiftly.

“You really don’t understand a woman’s heart. That’s why you can’t possibly win… Kraaah!”

The Outer God ‘Orchestra of Mud and Flesh’ has donated 500 Pron.

Anyway, I realized it was time to finalize the topic for my third thesis. I was eager to leave this place, but I knew I needed to be fully prepared. After all…

‘Steel Flowing Like Earth’ harbors unpredictable hostility towards you.

‘King of the Graceful Finale’ eagerly anticipates your departure from Alcatraz.

‘Sky of Comfort’ has designs on your intellect.

‘Wavering Fury’ looks forward to the day it can see you burn.

‘The End’ is ever-watchful of your presence.

Every move I made was under the scrutiny of the Named, and every decision could tip the delicate balance of my fate.

The hierarchy among the Outer Gods is intricate and formidable. Just as Cartesia subdued Populus, any of the other Outer Gods could easily overpower Cartesia. The mere thought of Cartesia being removed from power sends shivers down my spine.

“Ho-oh.”

The ‘God of Wisdom and Curiosity’ reacts with a surprised purse of her lips.

It would be akin to a science student losing their calculator. Without it, my research would crawl forward at a snail’s pace.

The ‘God of Wisdom and Curiosity’ furrows her brows in contemplation.

“I was a fool to expect anything different.”

Two additional conditions were essential to escape this metaphorical Alcatraz.

“What are they?”

Firstly, the complete safety of myself and my acquaintances. Secondly, the ability to bypass the undergraduate program and go straight to graduate school.

“The first condition, I can handle. This is my domain, after all. But the second…”

Admittedly, it was a bold request. Initially, my aim was merely to enroll in the undergraduate course. Still, after authoring two research papers, even that seemed too pedestrian.

■Graduate School Admission Inquiry

To: Stellarium Academy Graduate School Admissions Office

I am inquiring whether it is possible to transition directly into the graduate program, bypassing the undergraduate course, upon completion of studies at Academia.

Just as courage wins the heart of a beloved, so too does it earn academic accolades. With a mixture of hope and precision, I sent off the carefully crafted email.

The response was:

(Reply) Hello, this is the Admissions Office of Stellarium Graduate School. To apply for our graduate program, applicants must hold a college-level degree or an equivalent educational qualification recognized by law.

“Sigh.”

As anticipated, there was no shortcut to the traditional path.

“It would be wiser to start with the undergraduate program, rookie.”

Even Cartesia, witnessing my dismay, couldn’t help but sigh. Yet, I wasn’t ready to concede. What is a doctoral degree, after all? It’s a recognition of one’s ability to solve complex problems. Think, Aidel. It’s time to reframe the problem entirely.

“Oh.”

A spark of inspiration struck. If I couldn’t enter graduate school by conventional means, perhaps I could convince them to make an exception for me.

A month and a half after Aidel published his second paper, the academic community was abuzz with admiration for Professor Josef Renkel. He had successfully reclaimed the Southeastern Belt, a feat that earned him the prestigious Lalos Award in engineering.

During the award ceremony, Professor Renkel and Professor Feynman clinked their glasses in celebration.

“Cheers!” they exclaimed in unison.

After a sip of wine, the two exchanged warm glances.

“It’s been a long time since we last met,” Renkel remarked.

“Is this really the time to bring that up? I mean, congratulations on your award, but aren’t you curious about the Arkia Award? You haven’t even been nominated yet,” Renkel teased.

“The Arkia Award? What’s that?” Feynman feigned ignorance, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Let’s not joke around at an event like this,” Renkel chided gently.

Feynman chuckled heartily, popping a cookie into his mouth. “Sorry about that. Still, I’m not too keen on fame.”

“You’re already quite famous, you know.”

“I won’t deny that,” Feynman conceded, rubbing his eyelids wearily.

Renkel mused to himself, ‘It’s not that Feynman couldn’t win the Arkia Award. It’s more about the politics of awarding it. Ideally, it should go to both him and Mr. Reinhardt, the first author of their study, to avoid any controversy. However, Reinhardt’s status as a student complicates things.’

The Arkia Award, a distinguished recognition for scholars in basic science, had stringent eligibility criteria:

The recipient must possess at least a college degree.

The Arkia Award, originally established to provide scholarships to pure scientists, had a longstanding tradition: half of the prize money was donated to the recipient’s college or graduate school. However, Academia, being merely a high school without specialized majors, disqualified its graduates from the award, regardless of their research achievements.

‘It’s frustrating to be restricted by such an arbitrary rule,’ thought the committee members as they focused on Reinhardt—a mere high school student. ‘It’s even more absurd that someone with his accomplishments hasn’t pursued higher education.’

Suddenly, a buzzing sound interrupted their thoughts.

“Is that an email?”

“Yes, just a moment,” Professor Feynman replied, checking his tablet. His expression quickly turned to one of concern.

“This is…”

The warden of Alcatraz has informed me that my release is postponed. It seems unlikely that I will return to Academia this year.

“Th-this can’t be,” Feynman stammered, his face draining of color. Professor Renkel approached, equally alarmed.

“What’s the matter?”

And then it became clear. A significant misfortune had struck the student Feynman was mentoring.

“Isn’t that Professor Feynman? It’s been a while. But what are you reading… Th-this can’t be.”

“What’s going on? Why is everyone gathered here… This, this can’t be.”

“Professor Renkel, good to see you. Professor Feynman is here, too. What’s the reason for… This, this can’t be.”

Soon, a crowd of professors encircled Feynman, who absorbed in his shock, continued to scroll through the email, oblivious to the growing audience. The critical part of the message read:

It seems that entering graduate school is now impossible. I am sorry.

Best regards, Aidel von Reinhardt.

Reinhardt’s continued imprisonment made his return seem unlikely.

“This, this can’t be.”

“This makes no sense.”

“My, my graduate student,” someone whispered.

“…This is not the time for this.”

“He must be detained on some trivial charge.”

“If he was detained due to the Outer Gods, he couldn’t have produced such a remarkable paper,” Professor Roden interjected.

“Leaving that student there constitutes a universal loss!”

“And now that we’ve figured out how to repair the Ether Belt…”

The professors, initially stunned, now looked determined.

“For the honor of academia…”

“…Let’s bring him back ourselves.”

Thus began the daring rescue operation for Aidel von Reinhardt, the rising star of the physics world.