Chapter 80

Chapter 80

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 80: From Now On, This Is My Laboratory (3).

“What?” Exclaimed Sonia, Verdia, and Rustila, one after the other.

“Has this brat gone mad?”

Verdia paused, wondering if her hearing device was malfunctioning. Aidel’s words seemed nonsensical.

“Ah, what nonsense are you spouting to the young lady?” Verdia exclaimed.

“It’s not nonsense. And I hope you become one too.”

“Become what?”

“A graduate student.”

Such a statement seemed ludicrous coming from the lips of a seventeen-year-old high school student.

It was surely a moment of insanity.

Verdia was taken aback. “You’re not a professor, and this isn’t a laboratory. What are you talking about?”

“I will be a professor someday. And in a few weeks, I plan to transform this place into a lab. That gives me the freedom to propose research projects to you all.”

Verdia wiped her face with both hands, feeling overwhelmed. Aidel twisted his lips into a wry smile as he continued, his next words even more astonishing.

“Rustila, during midterms, I collaborated with a professor on a paper. We were exploring theories of gravity to find a way to restore the Ether Belt.”

“Wow,” Rustila breathed out. Verdia felt a shiver as she processed the implications. Research that could potentially restore the Ether Belt was groundbreaking. As Aidel mentioned this, a spark lit up in Rustila’s previously puzzled blue eyes.

“The reason I’m staying here is because of the Ether Belt. If we can’t artificially repair the gap in the southern belt, we’ll face the same crisis next semester.”

“Indeed,” Sonia and Rustila nodded in agreement. Verdia, however, remained skeptical.

“You wrote a paper? You’re just a first-year at the Academia? Don’t lie! That can easily be exposed with a simple search on the Scholar site…!”

Her words trailed off as her CPU, connected to the wireless network, retrieved the search results swiftly.

▶Academic Information Search

Author Name: Aidel von Reinhardt

Search Results: 1 Research Paper

‘Why is this here?’ Verdia thought. In the vast universe, it seemed improbable that another person named Aidel von Reinhardt, with an email linked to Stellarium Academia, would exist.

‘Even the quality is remarkable.’ The paper was nearing 200 citations. The theoretical insight, the terminology, and even the innovative ideas were impeccable.

“For now, Verdia, you pass,” Aidel declared.

“What do you mean, all of a sudden?”

“The view count just went up by one. You checked my paper, didn’t you? I appreciate your diligence in researching before questioning.”

“What-!”

“Let’s collaborate.”

Verdia glanced uneasily at Rustila. She had always navigated carefully between accommodating the young lady’s emotional needs and the Kersil couple’s overprotectiveness. She had committed to honoring Rustila’s desires as long as they didn’t pose a physical risk. But this time, she was reluctant.

“Miss, I think we should be heading back….”

“I want to hear more about what Aidel proposed.”

“Oh.”

Thump.

At that moment, Sonia placed a hand on Verdia’s shoulder.

“Let it go.”

And with that, Verdia resigned herself to her new role.

I felt a surge of relief. We needed someone skilled with a plasma sword for this research, and Rustila had volunteered. I was initially nervous about asking her; our friendship, built over time, could be at risk if things went awry.

However, the moment Rustila saw me, she embraced me unexpectedly. In that instant, I knew we were fully aligned.

“Trash. Even a Casanova would have more conscience than you.”

Rustila was also enthusiastic about the research topic. Success meant restoring the Ether Belt, ensuring our safe return to school. I even considered skipping college for a direct entry into the graduate program, feeling confident enough to tackle it next year.

Gathered around the round table were myself, Rustila, Sonia, Verdia, and even Cartesia and Populus. We began our group meeting.

“W-wait a minute. Why am I… Aahhh!”

Outer God ‘Orchestra of Mud and Flesh’ has paid you 500 Pron.

I pulled up the hastily prepared PowerPoint presentation and addressed the group.

“First, are you all aware that the Ether Belt in the Alcatraz planetary system is tilted more than usual?”

“Yes.”

“This tilt causes a greater exposure of ether to the planet, as our research has shown.”

“That makes sense. But why is it positioned like that?”

“That’s what we need to figure out,” I admitted. “I still haven’t found the answer.”

In ‘SOG,’ Feynman uncovers a crucial secret just before his death. A secret that is never published and ultimately lost due to the devious interference of the Outer God. This lost knowledge triggers a cascade of events, steering humanity towards its own demise.

“My current objective is to unearth this lost reason.”

“Isn’t that going to be challenging?”

“Not in the slightest. I’ll have it sorted out in three months.”

Verdia gave me a look of disbelief. “You’re awfully confident for just an Academia student.”

“Verdia, are you doubting my capabilities?”

“It’s not about doubting you. But seriously, do you think any of this is normal?”

Verdia remained skeptical. She had expected Sonia to put up a strong fight, yet Sonia hadn’t uttered a word.

“Alright. How about we make a bet?”

“A bet?”

“Yes, if I win, you grant me one wish and vice versa.”

I pulled out a piece of paper, tearing it into two halves—one for me and the other for Verdia.

With a contemplative click of her pen, Verdia handed the paper and pen over to Rustila.

“Miss’s will is my will. Is that acceptable?”

“Do as you wish. And let’s agree to keep this a secret for three months.”

Sonia cocked her head, puzzled. “Is secrecy really necessary? Revealing the conditions of the bet might actually boost our motivation.”

I responded with a grin. “Don’t you think knowing the penalty upfront would spoil the fun?”

Rustila, with a small, knowing smile, nodded in agreement. As Rustila’s decisions quickly became Verdia’s, the bet effectively became a contest between Rustila and me. We scribbled down the terms of our wager, folded the paper thrice, and secured it inside a box. We made sure to label the outside with our names so we’d know which note belonged to whom.

“Did you jot down something challenging?”

“Indeed.”

“That sounds rather harsh.”

“Well, it’s no easy topic.”

Rustila scratched her cheek, her smile tinged with embarrassment. It was somewhat disheartening to see her beam so radiantly, oblivious to the daunting challenge I had set in writing.

Collaborate on the next paper

Her proficiency with the plasma sword extended beyond mere combat. Mastery in resonating with the sword also meant she was adept at ether resonance, a skill crucial for simulations demanding an intuitive analysis of Ether distribution and other critical processes involving the sword.

Rustila chuckled softly to herself, unaware of how pivotal her skills would be in accelerating my research.

Subsequently, I immersed myself in designing intricate simulations and arranging the necessary experimental equipment. The inclusion of practical equipment in theoretical work was essential to demonstrate the ‘applicability’ of my prior findings. My plan was to conduct experiments within an efficient yet cost-effective framework.

“Student, you’ve crossed a line,” the prison warden reprimanded me.

He gestured towards the invoice. “I recognize your exceptional talent, but issuing a full recovery diagnosis and then proceeding with this purchase places me in a precarious position.”

“I acknowledge my mistake, and I apologize,” I responded.

“Apologies aren’t enough. Refund everything while you still have the chance. It’s not too late.”

To be concise, I had spent 300 million credits on experimental equipment in just half a day, using Warden Whitewood’s credit card. His frustration was understandable, yet returning the crucial equipment was not a viable option. After pondering for a moment, I found a solution.

“Charge the debt to the Reinhardt family.”

After all, my family was wealthy and could easily cover the costs.

The news of the Celestine incident had swiftly reached Arnold and Rejane Reinhardt, the heads of the Reinhardt family. As doctors treating soldiers combating Darwin’s monsters on the southern front, they were no strangers to a crisis. However, the reports of their daughter Ceti falling into a coma, coupled with the arrest of their third son, had jolted them profoundly, even making headlines.

“I will take a leave of absence,” Arnold stated firmly.

“Me too,” echoed Rejane.

After months of relentless service, the couple finally traveled to the southern sanctuary. Upon arrival, they were greeted by the sight of their daughter, Ceti, lying serenely on a bed adorned with flowers.

“Ceti!” Rejane’s voice cracked as her eyes lost focus. She hurried towards her daughter, her steps faltering until she stumbled and fell.

“My daughter…” Rejane managed to utter between sobs that reverberated throughout the dome. Arnold, his jaw clenched, turned his attention to the priest of the starry god who was overseeing Ceti’s care.

“Her breathing is stable, but she remains unresponsive. It appears she may have sustained permanent brain damage,” the priest explained.

“Where is the damage located?”

“Well,” the priest hesitated.

“You’re in the medical field, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be able to articulate this more clearly?”

“The exact location of the damage hasn’t been identified.”

Yes, that’s just how it is. No matter how advanced our medical technology, it seems futile against the machinations of the Outer Gods. Diagnosing the illness had been nearly impossible.

Arnold, though buried in work, made time to visit Ceti with Rejane. His visits, though infrequent, meant he was seeing his daughter more now than ever before.

“Wake up soon. What will become of us if the next head of the family remains in this state?” Rejane whispered to Ceti when Arnold was out of earshot. Yet, her daughter, lying comatose, gave no response.

Then, a few weeks later, on a weekend, Arnold stopped by the sanctuary after completing a grueling 36-hour surgery. He hadn’t managed to completely clean the patient’s blood from his glasses.

In the days leading up to this, Arnold had been dealing with some troubling issues. For reasons unknown, an additional 300 million from the family’s fortune had vanished. It wasn’t the doing of Brian, the eldest, nor was it Katrick, the second. It was the third.

‘Aidel…’

It turned out he had been quietly draining the family’s resources from behind bars. More precisely, the funds belonged to Ceti. Despite her unconscious state, the financial systems she had put in place were still generating billions of credits each month.

Arnold sighed deeply, leaning close to whisper to his daughter. “That’s the situation, Ceti. Aidel has been recklessly spending your earnings. It seems he might have even set up a gambling den in prison.”

“……”

“He’s blown through about a billion credits so far.”

“……What did you just say?”

“?”

Ceti von Adelwein Reinhardt miraculously woke up after 47 days in a coma.