Ch.362[Epilogue] Wait, What Happened to My Professor Position?

“My lab… is gone?”

“The office itself is still preserved. It’s just that your faculty position disappeared after you were processed as deceased.”

So, I can’t enter my own lab?

“Um, there’s no way to make it work?”

“I’m not sure myself.”

“Can I go to the office for a moment?”

“Yes, let’s go together.”

And so, upon arriving at the office, I was left speechless at the unbelievable sight before me.

[Stellarium Department of Physics Assistant Professor & Graviton Bomb Research Team Director]

[In Memory of Eidel Rheinland]

“My lab… has become a museum?”

“Many people wanted to preserve it. Look at that. There are even paper flowers folded from academic papers by undergraduate students.”

“Where?”

“There, that one.”

[Rest In Paper]

Wow, it really is.

“Um… since I’ve returned, I can work as faculty again, right?”

“Well, about that.”

The chancellor scratched his head.

“This is our first time dealing with such a case, so we need to check what the law says first.”

“…I understand.”

So I set off to seek legal advice. I had connections—specifically, Kristin Heresset from the Heresset family who worked in legal services. She was my classmate during my academia days.

“Aaaahhhh! A ghost!!!”

It took some time for her to calm down.

“So… you were resurrected?”

“Yes.”

“From across dimensions?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And when you returned, you were fired—no, excluded—from your professorship…?”

“Hey now, excluded? I was processed as deceased.”

I asked her.

“A person processed as deceased turns out to be alive. All my federal citizen information has been deleted. Can I sue the school in this case?”

Kristin swallowed hard before answering.

“I’m not sure right away.”

“What?”

“They’ve probably already recruited new faculty, and national university professor quotas are determined by the government, so the school can’t adjust them freely. After registering as a citizen again, you’ll have to take the faculty appointment exam again…”

“Th-then what am I supposed to do for a living in the meantime?”

“Be unemployed, I guess.”

“Un-unemployed…?”

Kristin answered nonchalantly.

“Yes, unemployed.”

This can’t be happening. Me, unemployed? Not a professor, not even an adjunct, but unemployed?

“This is unfair! Do you know how hard I worked to become a professor? While waiting for an appointment that might never come, I’m supposed to be unemployed? UNEMPLOYED???”

Tears blur my vision. It feels like I’ve lost everything. My professorship. My research funding. My right to recruit graduate students…

“Oh, so that’s it! They want a war hero to live picking up trash? What kind of idiotic country would—Oh?”

“Calm down! Let me see if there’s a possibility for a damage claim.”

“Oh? P-please…”

“I think once your identity is confirmed, you could definitely aim for reinstatement. Let’s see, hmm.”

Kristin quickly got to work. Though her main job was as a prosecutor, her legal expertise extended to law firm work as well. She scanned through screens and then clapped her hands.

“Oh! I got it!”

“You found something!”

School friends really are the best. I knew I could count on her!

“I found out it’s impossible!”

That trust was shattered in one second.

“Why? No, WHY!”

“Because in ‘exceptional circumstances’ like this, to reinstate you immediately, they’d have to dismiss the current professor. That would constitute wrongful termination, making the situation extremely complicated!”

“Nooooo——!!”

I ended up losing consciousness.

***

– Eidel von Rheinland. You are hereby ‘expelled’ from our Stellarium Academy.

– In an era where we can barely get proper government support, how could we keep a particle theory lab professor? Stop being so disgraceful and just leave. Stop wasting national funds.

– Haven’t we caught all the aliens already? Then we don’t need the graviton cannon anymore, right? Should I demolish it?

– Professor, no. Little Del, I’m sorry. I need to make a living too. I’ll graduate from Professor Stranov’s lab, so you should look for something other than being a professor. Goodbye.

“Ugh, uuugh… Aaaah!”

I woke up thrashing.

“Young master!”

“Del, what’s wrong!”

I saw Ireh Hazlen. And Sonia. The two women held my hands with tears in their eyes.

“Wh-where am I…?”

“The hospital. I’m so glad you’re awake… Are you okay?”

“Ah.”

It was just a dream. I thought I was being abandoned again in some ridiculous way. Of course, if nothing else, Ireh wouldn’t leave my lab for another research group.

“I-I thought you were dying, young master…”

“If you die, how am I supposed to graduate!”

Sonia and Ireh hugged me and cried their hearts out. I patted their backs. I’d caused them unnecessary worry.

But.

Why did I lose consciousness again?

Right.

Because they said I couldn’t return to my professorship immediately.

“Ugh.”

“Del! Sonia, quickly! Call the doctor!”

Sonia rushed out and returned shortly after. With Professor Feynman.

“I told you to call a doctor!”

“That’s exactly what I did!”

Professor Feynman rushed to my side.

“Student Eidel!”

“P-Professor! Huff, huff.”

“Calm down. I’ve heard everything. We’ll figure something out, but for now, you need to rest. First, shouldn’t we reissue your citizenship?”

“Y-yes. That’s absolutely right. Sniff.”

Ireh held her head. She sighed and shook her head. Sonia glanced at Ireh and gave a thumbs up.

Feynman explained the situation.

“Many professors died in the Great War that day. As a result, we hired a large number of young, capable PhDs. Among them were senior and principal researchers who worked on the graviton cannon.”

In simple terms, no one was due for honorary retirement within a year. And they’d already found people to continue research in my field.

As Kristin said, national university professor quotas are limited. Like university admission quotas, they’re strictly set by the government and can’t be changed immediately.

I can’t push them out just to get myself in. They’ve already been hired—what grounds would I have to force them out? That would destroy the university’s reputation.

But.

Not reinstating me would equally damage the university’s reputation. People would ask why they’re treating a hero of humanity this way.

“The chancellor is very troubled about this. And at this rate, we might lose someone like Eidel von Rheinland to another academy…”

That’s when it happened.

“Chancellor, over here! Here!”

A booming voice came from beyond the door.

Slam!

Professor Stranov burst through the door. The chancellor of Iryuel Academy, whom I’d met before, was with him.

The Iryuel chancellor slid up to me and took my hand.

“Professor Rheinland, I’ve heard everything! You were removed from Stellarium’s faculty after being processed as deceased?”

“Huh? Y-yes.”

“Come to our Iryuel Academy! We’ve kept a position vacant in anticipation of your return!”

“Oh.”

Iryuel. Not a bad choice, perhaps.

“You know, our academy is backed by Stronium Industries.”

“I heard Stronium took quite a financial hit a year ago when making the graviton cannon…”

“Even considering that, a megacorp is still a megacorp. Their stock has been recovering since they started investing in energy production through black hole collisions. Isn’t that your specialty, Professor Rheinland?”

I found myself nodding unconsciously. That was indeed my next research focus. Now that we’d caught all the aliens, I needed to use my knowledge to revive the federal economy.

“Do I need to submit an application or something?”

“Just bring yourself. If you’re willing, we’ll escort you as soon as you’re discharged.”

“Gasp.”

An hour later, I completed my discharge procedures. It was the shortest hospital stay I’d ever had.

***

And then the Federation amended its laws.

In cases where a person processed as deceased is confirmed to be alive, reinstatement to their previous position is guaranteed unconditionally, provided the original institution still exists.

The law changed because of me.

However, it could only be applied after going through a mandatory ‘identity reconfirmation’ process. The Federation deletes all citizen and biometric data when someone dies to efficiently manage their databases. This makes it extremely difficult to prove that a deceased person and a returned person are the same individual.

Fortunately, I overcame this through paternity confirmation. I proved I shared the same bloodline as my father, Seti, Lucia, and Anya.

“Miss Kristin.”

“Yes?”

“Next time, let’s do our job properly.”

“Uh…”

Kristin mumbled before raising her voice.

“Hey! I never dreamed you could change the law itself! How was I supposed to anticipate that?”

“Enough.”

I wagged my finger and clicked my tongue.

“Anyway, I’ll be reinstated soon.”

“So, where will you go?”

“Iryuel.”

In an era when the entire Federation was impoverished.

Stronium was the only company still making decent money. As a theorist who needed to make a living, I had no choice but to accept their help.

It’s close and relatively wealthy. What’s not to like?

Of course, Stellarium being my alma mater made it comfortable too.

Just as I was about to go to Iryuel, two unexpected things happened.

First was Ireh.

“I won’t graduate unless it’s from Stellarium Academy.”

“Sister?”

Ireh had begun her resistance.

“It’s close to home, which is nice. I can visit you more often too. Most importantly, I’ve already registered, and I don’t want to waste time taking entrance exams again.”

Ireh spoke coldly. She was right, so I could only scratch my head awkwardly.

And the other surprise was…

“Professor Rheinland, we have something to offer you.”

Stellarium had pulled out their trump card.

“Concurrent position as Director of the Basic Science Research Institute…?”

“Yes.”

The Stellarium chancellor nodded.

“But the research director position isn’t something just anyone can—”

“Are you ‘just anyone,’ Professor?”

“…Gasp.”

The chancellor bowed his head.

“We’ll grant you full professor status along with it. Please lead our nation’s basic science research.”

“What about the budget?”

Hearing my question, the chancellor smiled.

“You’ll have the flexibility to adjust it as you see fit.”