Chapter 133

Chapter 133

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 133: Elections (2).

From a distance, it resembles a hydrangea, but up close, it’s a rose.

If you approach it recklessly, entranced by its beauty, you’ll soon find yourself pricked by its thorns. That is Zelnya von Adelwein—a girl blessed with peerless beauty, unparalleled talent, and supreme power.

There are two main ways to handle such a rose: you can either remove all the thorns or develop hands tough enough to embrace them. If you choose the former, the rose will wither away. For some, this doesn’t matter; they can simply plant another flower in the spot where the rose died, and thanks to the nutrients in the soil, it will grow vigorously. Choosing the latter, however, is a long and arduous path. But if you succeed in taming it, you will be rewarded with a romantic fragrance and sweet nectar and perhaps even find a way to wield those thorns to your advantage.

“Hey, it’s been a while.”

“So what?”

I greeted the rose I hadn’t seen in two months as if nothing had happened. And, as expected, a thorny response followed.

I checked the time: ten minutes to ten o’clock. I double-checked the shopping basket; everything was packed properly, with nothing missing.

Having achieved a good GPA in the first semester, I can take three more credits. I plan to apply for a third-year class. The second-semester research schedule is set as leisurely as possible. To an Outer God, three months is a fleeting moment. I need to ensure I accomplish something significant before then.

In that sense, my goal for this semester is clear.

“Annoying. So unlucky.”

I will tame this rose for sure. But first, I need to do some preliminary work to help it grow straight. It all starts with pruning.

‘I am currently an outsider, so I can’t interfere within the school. I’m sorry, but I have to ask you. Aidel, no matter what, stop that girl from becoming the student council president.’

We must ensure Zelnya loses the student council election—or I must become the president myself. Even if Ire hadn’t said it, I would have started this campaign. In fact, becoming well-known through my research was partly for that purpose. You need supporters to run for election.

Having successfully registered for all my classes, I glanced at Zelnya, who was sitting next to me.

“Ahh!”

“What is it this time?”

“I missed the physics section…”

She glared at me, her expression fierce and fuming.

“It’s all your fault.”

“Why?”

“Do you really need to ask? Because you’re so famous…! Ah! Never mind. I shouldn’t even talk.”

This is serious. I need to tame her quickly.

The method Stellarium uses to elect the student council president.

The first step.

“From now on, we will accept nominations. If you wish to run, please raise your hand.”

Each department begins collecting potential candidates for the election, but the turnout is dishearteningly low. Nomination, much like in the real political world, comes with a hefty price tag, and a significant portion of the funds must come from your own pocket. What a hassle.

“Is there really no one?”

The science and engineering departments, by their very nature, tend to shy away from stepping into the spotlight. It’s not that the seniors are so passive they ignore group chats.

“I don’t even have time to study my major, let alone join the student council.”

“Will that experience even help with getting a job?”

“Well, maybe if you want to showcase leadership?”

“Leadership, my foot. If you want to prove it that way, you’d be better off doing an internship…”

“Is there really no one willing to apply?”

The lack of motivation is palpable. In the Stellarium Science Department, every company is eager to recruit you, leaving little incentive to take time out to be the student council president.

“Just a heads-up: I’ll post a notice in the group chat soon, so if you change your mind by then, let me know…”

It’s annoying; let’s just get this over with.

I cautiously raised my hand. Murmurs spread like ripples across the room, and as expected, everyone turned to look at me. Ah, how embarrassing.

“No, you!”

“Aidel von Reinhardt, junior!”

Embarrassment level: 2.

“Junior, are you thinking of running for the student council election?”

“Yes. I plan to.”

Embarrassment level: 3.

“Junior, we’ve been waiting for you! Finally, our Holy Moly Physics Department will seize the Stellarium throne.”

The interim committee chairman grabbed my hand and patted my back. For reference, this department has no student council due to poor voting turnout.

“Everyone, let’s cheer for our junior, Reinhardt!”

“Holy moly! Guacamole! Physics!”

What the hell, FM. Damn it. Fine, I’ll just stay quiet.

“I have registered your candidacy. With your recognition, you’ll gather enough supporters. The leading researcher of resonators, the FR model! No one in our department hasn’t read your paper, right?”

“Hahaha!”

And just like that, I added another layer of embarrassment to my already towering pile. It’s so overwhelming I might choke.

Since it’s a nomination, support within the department is essential. However, hardly anyone would dare to vote against…

“Stop! It’s a hundred times more beneficial for Reinhardt to attend academic conferences than to run for the student council!”

…me.

“Are you talking back to your senior like that?”

“That senior—what should I do? It seems like he wants to mess with Reinhardt.”

“Let’s mess with him first.”

“?”

The Vito faction was suppressed before they even had a chance to filibuster.

Then came the second stage: opinion polls and awareness voting.

In legislative terms, this is akin to a pre-announcement of legislation. In product terms, it resembles a new product demonstration.

The candidate’s face, along with their pledges, is published in the school newspaper. Slogans are important, but no matter how catchy the slogan is, it becomes irrelevant if the pledges are weak.

“Please write down a few pledges you have in mind first. Then let’s discuss them together.”

Hmm, pledges.

I’ve noticed several issues while wandering around campus. What kind of school lacks these things? Why is this place so inconvenient? I decided to recall and list all the inconveniences I’ve encountered over the past six months.

And the result:

1. Expansion of orbital elevators to the College-Graduate planet

2. Inclusion of the Graduate Student Council in the Tuition Review Committee

3. Discussion on revising the early graduation system

4. Expansion of the undergraduate-graduate shuttle service

5. Installation of additional smoking booths

6. Establishment of a graduate student counseling center

A mishmash of ideas.

“Excuse me, junior?”

“Yes?”

“Your pledges are… um, interesting, I guess.”

I scratched my head. I should have approached this more seriously. It’s my first time, after all.

“Why are there so many graduate school-related issues in your pledges?”

“Well, because the College and Graduate programs are originally one entity?”

It’s rare for high schools and universities to be combined, but universities and graduate schools are inseparable. In other words, what benefits the university also benefits the graduate school.

Actually, none of that matters; point number three is what’s crucial.

Early graduation. By revising existing rules to shorten the duration, we can reduce the entry period for graduate school.

“……Indeed, if we follow your proposal, we could win a lot of votes from the third-year students planning to enter the graduate program.”

“The sweetness of also looking out for graduate students!”

I’ve seen statistics showing that the physics department’s graduate school admission rate exceeds 60% every year. Could it be that the third-year seniors here are the same?

“Um, junior? I can understand everything else, but why on earth do we need a graduate school counseling center…?”

“Oh, that’s a system for first-year students. Freshmen lack a lot of information, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“Does something seem off?”

Come to think of it, my wording might have been misleading. I quickly revised number six.

Graduate School Admission Consultation Room Setup

Done. This way, it appears to be for university students.

For now, these are the key pledges, and the rest can be gradually fleshed out.

But something…

Why do the seniors’ expressions seem so strange?

At the same time, in the medical school student lounge…

“Cheers!”

“Clink! Clink! Clink!”

Zelnya was volunteering as the seniors’ drinking buddy at the opening meeting.

“Ah, northern beer is the best.”

“Isn’t this expensive? Where did you get this?”

“That, of course, was provided by our junior, Adelwein.”

The flushed seniors turned their attention to her, and Zelnya grinned slyly, her eyes narrowing. Everything was going according to plan.

“Today’s drinks? They’re on me!”

“Really?”

“Ha, as expected, Lady Adelwein is different!”

She played the role of a lively girl who effortlessly blended into the atmosphere—a mask that she never wore when alone with that guy, Aidel.

“Adelwein junior is smart and polite. She’ll make it big someday.”

“As a senior moving up to the main campus, let me give you a word of advice. Listen well!”

Zelnya continued to endure the drunken ramblings of the seniors. Idiots. They were medical students, too, but she needed their votes, so she maintained her fake smile.

Just then, the student council president opened the door and walked in.

“You punks, drinking on school grounds?”

“The pseudo-discipline committee is here.”

“Care for a drink, too, officers?

The drunk medical students raised their glasses, and a few executives gulped at the sight of the expensive liquor.

The student council president shook her head in disbelief. This was a common occurrence.

Her gaze shifted to Zelnya, whose cheeks were pale.

“Did you not drink, junior?”

“Well, I’m still a minor.”

“That’s right. You graduated early, didn’t you?”

The president looked at her with satisfaction. It made sense; the current medical school student council president was a girl who insisted on living a righteous life.

Zelnya understood this well. To win her favor, she had been buttering her up throughout the first semester while inwardly mocking her.

Navigating the unique, closed environment of medical school required cunning and trickery. Everyone here would see each other for life—year and class number mattered. Challenging the seniors would only create unnecessary hassle.

“Hey, hey, attention!”

The student council president clapped to draw focus.

“As you all know, the general election period is starting soon. I posted it in the group chat, but if anyone is thinking of running for office, please raise your hand.”

No one raised their hand.

“Who has time for the general council when we’re already so busy?”

“Wasn’t there someone in the second year of pre-med? Didn’t that person make it to the finals last time but got beaten by a political science student?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Is that student not running this time?”

The seniors frowned, blowing into their bottles, all reacting with annoyance.

Zelnya gauged the situation and made eye contact with the president. They exchanged subtle glances. Seeing no hostility in the president’s eyes, it seemed safe to step forward.

Cautiously, Zelnya raised her hand, playing the part of a shy girl.

“I’ll give it a try.”

The reaction was positive.

The election results came out soon after.

Unification. The medical school nominated Zelnya von Adelwein as the sole candidate for student council president.

Her pledges were meticulously crafted, and her slogan was excellently written. Moreover, there was the prestige of the Adelwein family name. With a bit of effort during the campaign, the presidency was almost guaranteed. Even remaining passive would likely secure her the vice presidency.

Stellarium determined the president and vice president based on the number of votes received in the executive election. Even if a senior with existing recognition won first place, it was nearly impossible for Zelnya not to secure second place.

“Hoo, hoohoo. Hoohooh.”

Zelnya felt confident.

“I heard Aidel von Reinhardt is running in the student council election?”

At least, that was the case until she heard that news.