Chapter 109

Chapter 109

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 109: Your Student Is Awesome (1).

After the midterm exam, I compared answers with Zelnya. She opened her general physics test paper, lifted her head, and proudly declared, “I won.”

“Yeah,” I replied, maintaining a calm demeanor.

She tilted her head, then shrugged and burst into giggles. Throughout lunch, she playfully picked fights with me, teasingly dubbing me “a physics major worse at physics than a non-major.”

Honestly, this could work in my favor. If Zelnya is better at physics than I am, she could switch majors and take on the graviton research for me. When I suggested this, she snapped, “Ge-get lost.”

I swallowed my regret; career paths are not something I can dictate.

After lunch, a long period loomed ahead. Zelnya left first, claiming she had a quiz. With nothing pressing to occupy my time, I settled down with a paper when a message pinged on my phone.

Professor Feynman: Aidel, could you come to my office right now?

A sudden summons to the office. Usually, only professors with terrible personalities do this. But I knew Professor Feynman was a saint. If he called me in, it must be good news. I quickly replied that I understood and hurried over.

“We’ve received research funding!” As expected, it was indeed good news.

“It seems Aidel’s reputation has reached the nation. They’ve decided to support us with a whopping 100 million credits. Now, we can conduct our research a bit more comfortably. Thank you so much.” Feynman shook my hand, a bright smile spreading across his face.

I smiled back, but inside, I felt differently. A hundred million? That amount was barely a drop in the ocean. What we were trying to discover this time was the Graviton Bomb. We’d need at least a few thousand researchers, and just covering their food expenses alone could cost at least a billion credits. On top of that, conducting the experiment would require a large particle accelerator, and running it even once would drain the national budget.

The professor was not oblivious to these realities. He either had a plan or was deeply worried but hiding it well. I hoped it was the former, but the latter seemed more likely.

“I trust you, junior.” After the meeting, the senior lab members came over and grabbed my hand.

“This research is going to be a massive project. It could take years.”

“We desperately need your help, especially since you’re the junior who published two papers as the first author in the journal!”

“Please let me graduate! Aaaah!” The three seniors pleaded, clinging to me as if I were their last hope. It felt strangely like looking at puppies about to be abandoned.

I didn’t typically enjoy holding another man’s hand, but I couldn’t dismiss them. I felt a sense of camaraderie.

“Alright. Let’s do our best, everyone.”

“Yay!”

“Then you three will handle the work proposal, right?”

“Excuse me?” The trio of graduate students stared blankly at me.

“Shouldn’t you be doing that too…?”

“I’m an undergraduate.”

The expressions of the lab members crumbled one by one like dominoes. It seemed they had all assumed I was the lab leader, but that was not happening. The hard work should fall on them. Besides, we couldn’t proceed with such a small budget.

I would return after my training to seek more research funds. Professor, please don’t look for me for a while. Well then, adios.

“Ah, is there a perfect dojo for internal training?”

Professor Stranov: Mr. Reinhardt, can you come in early today?

I found my answer right away.

I arrived at Eruyel Academy just as evening began to settle in. As before, Professor Stranov was waiting for me at the front gate.

“The weather is quite fickle, isn’t it? Come on in,” she said, gently nudging me forward.

I studied her expression carefully. The professor’s eyes sparkled more than usual, and a triumphant smile was etched sharply on her lips. It seemed she had something special prepared.

“If you have time, there’s something I’d like to show you, Mr. Reinhardt. Is that alright?”

I nodded, and she gestured for me to follow. She led me to a secluded building—a white-painted basement that felt dark and musty, the smell of old asbestos lingering in the air. Flickering lights were installed here and there, casting an unsettling glow.

“Here it is.” When we reached a room, she turned to face me. With a click, the light illuminated a massive spherical structure, approximately fifty meters in diameter. It was clear this was no ordinary object.

“Professor, this is….”

“Let me introduce it. It’s a gravitational resonator.”

My jaw dropped. “You’ve already made this?”

“It’s still a prototype—just the framework.”

“That’s impressive nonetheless.” I had thought it would take at least another year; the speed of her progress was astonishing.

As I watched the sphere sway back and forth like a pendulum, guided by its inertial system, my heart raced. Wow, this is thrilling. This must be what love feels like.

“As soon as I announced my research topic, numerous companies flooded in with funding. Don’t be surprised—the total amount is a staggering 50 trillion credits.”

“F-fifty…?” The figure was beyond comprehension, overwhelming in its magnitude.

“If this research succeeds, Maxwell and Descartes—those Outer Gods—will be finished. Even if we can’t kill them, we can trap them so they can’t harm us. Can you even fathom the economic benefits that would arise?”

“I can’t even begin to imagine it.”

“Exactly. That’s why I’m staking my life on this research.” The brilliance in Professor Stranov’s eyes conveyed the weight of her commitment.

“There are still many challenges ahead: what materials to use for the resonator mirror, how to operate it, and whether it’s safe. We have a mountain of tests to conduct.” She turned her gaze to me, her expression earnest. “We need an exceptional theoretical physicist.”

“…….”

“If the project goes well, we could secure hundreds of trillions of credits.”

“…….”

“Then we might be able to acquire more experimental equipment.”

“…….”

“What do you think, Mr. Reinhardt?”

My thoughts were a blank slate. When faced with such vast and impressive experimental equipment, the role of a theoretical physicist seemed both daunting and enticing.

“Mr. Reinhardt.”

“Yes, yes, Professor.”

“Do you have a lot of free time during the summer vacation?”

“Of course, Professor.”

“Then how about we sit down for a more in-depth conversation at that time?” She whispered in my ear, her words as sweet as honey and as enticing as cotton candy.

I felt an almost magnetic pull to nod in agreement but managed to resist, replying, “…I think I need to check my schedule.”

“Is that so…?” For a fleeting moment, a hint of disappointment flickered across Professor Stranov’s face. She quickly regained her composure and added, “Would you at least like to join me for dinner?”

“I almost got into big trouble.” It was past midnight when I finally returned to the Stellarium, and I let out a sigh of relief.

Fifty trillion. Just hearing that figure made my heart race. With that kind of funding, almost any experimental research could be conducted. I had originally intended to collaborate with Professor Stranov, but I hadn’t realized just how extraordinary she was. I nearly became a master’s student in her lab.

But my heart lies solely with Professor Feynman. The breakthrough in developing the graviton bomb is entirely his achievement. Choosing a lab-based solely on research funding is unacceptable. Yes, absolutely.

“You seem quite troubled. Not like a rookie at all. How about taking a walk?”

For some reason, Cartesia was looking out for me. It wasn’t a bad idea, so I strolled slowly through the campus park. That’s when I ran into someone.

“Aidel, why are you here?” It was my father. What was he doing here?

“Father, why are you in such a secluded place?”

“I was on my way back from a lecture. If you have nothing else to do, come along.” So, I walked alongside him.

There wasn’t much to say between a father and son. Questions like “What did you do today?” and “How’s your studying going?” were all that came back. Even then, when I answered with short replies of “Yes, yes,” the conversation dwindled. Only the sounds of our footsteps and the chirping crickets lingered in the air.

As we walked, we stumbled upon an unmanned café and decided to stop for a moment. I inserted my card and got us two iced coffees.

“Is that your card?”

“It’s Ceti’s.”

“You still haven’t come to your senses. No matter how much you’re family, some lines must be drawn. If you use your sibling’s money recklessly…”

“She gave it to me to use!”

“Pfft!” My father sputtered, nearly choking on his coffee. I patted his back, concerned.

“Your sibling gave it to you?”

“Ceti earns money, you know. For tax deductions.” Every month, my sister dealt with pensions, health insurance premiums, and various taxes, all to avoid the unfair burdens that came with wealth.

“Your sister certainly has a knack for business. She already knows all that without being taught.”

“Don’t you think she’ll be great at managing assets once she becomes the head?” I subtly probed my father. As expected, he showed signs of discomfort.

“Unless she brings home a capable doctor husband, who knows.”

“That’s a tough issue.”

“It’s not just about money.” We moved to an outdoor table. The serene campus stretched out before us, a bridge spanning an artificial stream. I admired the scenery, listening to the symphony of nature. Sipping my coffee, I appreciated the frogs’ intro, which helped me regain a bit of calm.

“Aidel.”

“Yes, Father?”

“How are things going with the girl from the Adelwein family?”

“Do you mean Zelnya? What about it?”

“The marriage preparations.”

“Ugh, cough, hack, choke…!” The coffee went up my nose.

“Since we’re talking about the head of the family, let me say this: if you don’t marry that girl, I have no intention of passing down the position to you. You must know this.”

“Yes, I understand…” Marry Zelnya? This was the first time I’d heard this from my father. Why had the conversation taken this turn?

“Let’s talk about this later.” For now, I dodged the topic. Marrying the villainess of the college chapter? That would ruin both families. Rehabilitation comes first. If we can’t change her personality this year, we must prevent Zelnya from running for the student council next year. It’s just one thing after another. Yeah. Just one thing after another.

“Hold on a second, I got a DM.” With my father’s nod, I checked my phone and saw messages from two different people arriving simultaneously.

Professor Feynman: Student Aidel

Professor Stranov: Can you text now?

I’m seriously going crazy.