episode_0026

“The Philosopher’s Stone? Is this the Philosopher’s Stone that only appears in stories?”

“Shhh! Who’s listening outside, honey? Are you crazy enough to turn the whole Brondean world upside down?”

Maurice asks, blinking his eyes.

I had to sweat profusely trying to lower the volume of the scared guy.

Then, Maurice let out a single laugh and said,

“The ring given by the imperial family, the medal of the warrior candidate, and now the philosopher’s stone? It’s not surprising anymore.”

Yeah. It’s not like it’s a set item, but it keeps increasing one by one?

Now, can I just wear it as a part on each body part?

With a ring on your finger, a medal on your chest, and drugs hanging from your waist?

“So? Are you really going to eat it?”

“You have to eat it. Then just throw it away?”

“Wow, you’re so quick to use the potions prepared by alchemists? You know their products have terrible side effects. If I wake up tomorrow and find a horn on my forehead, I won’t know?”

Maurice looks quite annoyed by my answer.

By this standard, it was a fairly reasonable reaction.

It was a world where rumors were rampant, such as people being able to stay awake for days after drinking a vitality potion, or people growing two extra fingers after drinking a recovery potion.

‘Plus, the change is permanent, which is a bit scary.’

If you said it would only have a temporary effect, I would be willing to try it, but if you say it will be permanent, I’m a little hesitant to try it.

What if some weird side effect happens and you end up with 12 fingers or 4 things on your groin? How can you continue living like that?

“… … No. But I guess I’ll trust that alchemist grandpa.”

I heard that he was a scholar with the highest authority in alchemy at least.

Since such a person verified the performance and even guaranteed safety, no unpleasant incidents will occur.

Mulberry!

I uncorked the bottle to see what effect it would have.

And then I gulped it down without hesitation.

“How is it? Do you feel something different?”

“Ugh, well.”

First of all, the taste is terrible. I was expecting it to taste like strawberries because it’s red.

Moreover, there is no part of the body that feels particularly changed.

Rather, the only thing that left a bad aftertaste was an unpleasant feeling.

‘What is this? Why isn’t anything changing?’

Did you commit fraud by hanging up your teacher’s business card?

It’s not even April Fool’s Day, and you’re doing such a ridiculous prank…

Woohoo!

“Huh, huh?”

“Huh?! What, what is it!”

Maurice and I both screamed at the same time.

A strange light was coming from my pubic area.

A beautiful, clear light, reminiscent of when priests exercise their divine powers.

Soon after, the light slowly subsided.

“… … What is it?”

I looked around my body with a puzzled expression.

I feel like I’m a little healthier than before.

But other than that, I don’t think much has changed?

What exactly changes?

While I was thinking about it for a while and looking around my body.

“!”

At that moment, I instinctively knew what effect the Philosopher’s Stone had on me.

“Hey, Maurice. Give me some report paper and a fountain pen.”

“Huh? Why all of a sudden?”

A friend who readily accepts a request even though he has a hesitant expression.

I stretched as a warm-up after receiving the stationery he had offered.

The moment you bring the pen tip to the surface of the paper.

Crunch, rust, rust, rust, rust!

The letters were written at a speed that was literally close to super speed.

Without the slightest hesitation, without a moment’s hesitation.

As if he knew from the beginning what letters he should write.

“Okay! Report finished!”

“Eh?! Huh, already?”

Shhh!

Morris is shocked to see a wad of paper with a hint of smoke coming out of it.

He looked back and forth between me and the report and asked me a question in a dazed tone.

“Ah, even though I did all the research, it’s like this. Doesn’t it take at least a few hours to write this? And you finished it in less than 10 minutes?”

“Yeah. I guess the Philosopher’s Stone really did change me.”

It was clearly said to change the nature of the user and grant them mystical abilities.

‘I’ve definitely been very busy these days with reports, studying, and writing plays.’

Morris took the best care of me, but how many nights did he lose because of it?

Sometimes I even thought, ‘Isn’t this how I’m going to collapse?’

It seems that the Philosopher’s Stone automatically recognized my ‘functional need’.

Now, I thought, maybe it would be possible to mass-produce scripts while sitting down if I put my mind to it.

A wealth of knowledge in the head, and ideas that flash like lightning.

The premise that these two must be supported still remains.

“And what else? Can’t you feel any other differences?”

“Other differences?”

“It’s amazing that you can write so quickly, but it’s still the legendary Philosopher’s Stone. Honestly, I don’t think that alone will be enough to change things.”

Another difference, another difference.

Actually, it seems like there is something, but the thread is not clearly drawn compared to my writing ability.

If I had to put it into words, would it be right to say that the changes that the Philosopher’s Stone causes in my body should be observed in the long term?

Maybe the talent you’ve just acquired is just the tip of the iceberg.

As time goes by, might some new ‘transformation’ occur in a chain reaction?

“Why did you gain a power related to writing? You’re worthy of the great writer Phantom, Balthazar. If you keep doing this, won’t you be reborn as something transcendent, worthy of the nickname of the warrior of the pen?”

“Well.”

What exactly does it mean to be worthy of being called a warrior of the pen?

Does the alchemist in some anime just sling his pen around like he’s shooting sparks?

Will I be able to use Chinese character magic by swinging my brush like the characters in the educational comics?

Or maybe something like DC Comics’ Green Lantern, where you physically embody what you imagine?

I think life would be really fun if I had even a similar amount of strength.

Burn, fire! Blow, wind!

I think we all have fantasized about this kind of spell at least once when we were young.

“By the way, there’s still half left. What should I do with the rest?”

“Hmm, really? What about this?”

The remaining half of the medicine is still overflowing inside the bottle.

But I couldn’t bring myself to swallow any more of it.

Should I say that the survival instinct is sending a warning?

Are you saying that if I drink any more of the Philosopher’s Stone, my life might be in danger?

So I said to Maurice in a subtle way.

“Why don’t you try it too? You’ve helped me a lot.”

This guy is my assistant who has supported me so that I can focus on my writing.

Because I was entitled to share the Philosopher’s Stone as compensation for my hard work.

But Morris unexpectedly refused firmly.

“Okay. I like myself the best right now. I have no desire to take drugs to become something other than the current Morris.”

“Hmm, is that so?”

Come to think of it, this kid has had pretty strong self-esteem since he was a kid.

Since he had a positive mind, I never got bored when we were together.

It felt a bit like the nitpicking of a rich kid, so I didn’t like it, but I decided not to recommend it any more.

Well, it’s not like you have to dispose of the leftovers right away.

‘I guess I’ll have a use for it someday.’

I opened the drawer and put the remaining philosopher’s stone away.

And then, at that moment, he was locking it tightly with a key to prevent anyone from opening it.

“Waaaah-!!”

Suddenly, a shout was heard from the dormitory hallway.

It was a noisy, loud noise, almost like a battle.

What the heck? These Academy cadets, are you guys getting drunk and having a pillow fight again?

It’s a common occurrence for young students to get drunk and cause mayhem without any sense of propriety.

At that moment, I was about to ignore the current situation, thinking that it was just another part of that.

“Those who have seen Phantom’s work, come out! The rating war starts now! Aaaah-!!”

“… … Huh?”

What war?

“Oath! From today on, we refuse to be called Bronde Cadets like those barbarians who have no aesthetic sense at all!”

“Wow! It’s war! Let’s show the extreme bitterness to the ignorant!”

“… … So what is that situation?”

Great view balcony installed in high-rise dormitory.

When I asked him while leaning against the railing, Maurice laughed and explained.

“You have the transcript of your latest work, right?”

“Uh. What is that?”

“The students who read it were so impressed that they set up a public critique board. They wanted to go beyond simply consuming culture and analyze and evaluate its true value through deeper insight. I think the name was Sanghan Melon?”

… … What the heck is a spoiled melon? Could this be some other world version of Rotten Tomatoes?

Anyway, you guys from the Academy. When did you make that?

“But during the critique process, since their opinions did not match, they started competing, and that competition turned into an emotional fight, so at some point, they started terrorizing the ratings.”

“Rating terrorism?”

“At first, did you say that they only manipulated the evaluation scores on the bulletin board as a group? By raising the scores of their favorite works and lowering the scores of other works. But as the saying goes, a long tail will get stepped on, so when they all did that together, in the end… … ”

“Yeah, well. I don’t need you to explain further.”

Sigh. I stuck my head out of the balcony, letting out an absurd laugh.

It was late afternoon, around 8pm, when the sun had already set and the full moon had risen.

In the Academy grounds, where the magic lights were on, the crowd divided into three groups was busy growling.

A red flag with a laurel wreath.

A blue flag depicting a turtle ship.

And a green flag with a cane drawn on it.

Students who had chosen their respective camps glared at each other and made a lot of noise as if they were about to start a fight at any moment.