Chapter 10 (1/2)
Volume 1
Atelier Tanaka Chapter 9
Beginner Alchemist pt.1
(If I’d wanted to become a doctor, what would I have done? After a consultation with a high school teacher, I’d have gone to a university and studied at a medical facility. I’d take classes from professors. So what should I do to become an alchemist?)
. . .
“You should go to the school in town.”
“I see. Where is it?”
“Ummm, you know, go over there, then go that way, then go this way again.”
I gave the little girl a few copper coins for her help.
(These directions are always so vague. Am I really going to find anything from that? I wouldn’t believe it if this system hadn’t always worked so far.)
“OK, bye-bye!”
“Thanks.”
She walked away energetically while smiling and humming.
(Ah, she’s cute.)
I watched her walk away and disappear into a crowd, and noticed I was smiling too. I followed her directions, going over there, then that way, then this way again.
(I never expected there to be a school in the town. Looking back, I miss being in college. In high school I had cram school and homework at night. Then I had entrance exams to get into a university. After I graduated, I was working long hours as a salaryman. I don’t know if I learned much in college, but isn’t that fine? College was like the summer vacation of life.)
I somehow ended up at the school, feeling like someone in their 30s who was finally entering medical school.
The solemn building in front of me looked like a cross between Buckingham Palace and a castle.
I walked through the large plaza in front, and went inside. Wandering around for about 10 minutes, I finally found a place like a ticket counter with a receptionist. Like most of the inside, it was made of marble. The woman there had a solemn, fixed expression. She was pretty, with long blonde hair and charming big eyes, and she was wearing tightly fitted clothes.
“Are you a new student?”
“Um, yes.”
“We are one of the top schools of both this country and our allies, so it’s understandable that you want to study here. But you should understand that with the entry fee, the class fees, and various other expenses, a certain amount of money is necessary.”
(I knew that much. Even the maintenance on this building must cost a lot.)
“How much is it?”
“The entrance fee is 10 gold. Taking a class for a term is 5 gold. With various other fees, studying here for a year typically costs 50 gold.”
“Eh, 50 gold? Seriously?”
(That’s even more expensive than universities in Japan!)
“As such, there are few commoners here, and they sold their property in order to pay for their education. Most of the students are nobles.”
“Is that so…”
“I’m very sorry that your long travels have ended with this.”
(Oh, she thinks I travelled here from another country to study.)
“I understand.”
(That crazy magic noble said he’d give me 50 gold next month, which is just enough. How convenient. But I’m not spending enough money to buy a house on classes for nobles that might not even help, and I’m not going to count on getting money from him. Maybe I’ll just have to learn on my own.)
“Is there a different sort of school that I could go to?”
“Any institution of comparable quality to ours will have strict entry requirements. However, with a smaller local school or some sort of education cooperative, walk-in admission may be possible.”
“I see…”
(She has an impressive ability to be polite and rude at the same time. Oh well, I should just leave.)
I turned and started walking towards the exit.
(Actually, why was I asking her? I should just use thelittle girl information network.)
As I was thinking about that, someone came around the corner and called out to me.
“Ho? Why is someone like you in a place like this?”
I remembered that boldly arrogant voice.
(It’shim.)
“No, why are you here?”
“Why am I here? Because I teach here, of course! Are you a student here?”
(Suddenly, I don’t feel bad about not being able to afford this place. Thanks.)
“No, I just decided not to enter. It’s too expensive.”
“It certainly is difficult for someone poor to enter. That’s exactly why this school is known internationally for its high class and nobility!”
“Oh yes, mixing poor and rich people together would cause all kinds of problems.”
“Exactly!”
He started nodding.
(No, I don’t really want to be your friend…)
The receptionist cut in, sounding slightly hysteric.
“…Fo, Fouren-sama?!”
“What?”
He looked towards her, and his tone turned cold.
“Um, is he your acquaintance, Fouren-sama?”
“Why else would I be talking to him?”
“Sorry for interrupting!”
She started bowing to him.
(So this is the standard noble-commoner relationship.)
“You, what’s your name?”
“Kkk…”
She was shaking, and looked like someone in a TV drama that had just been sentenced to death.
“Hey, hurry up.”
“Sabrina…”
I started thinking about how I could intervene.
“Stopping him here was the correct decision. I’ll see about getting you a promotion next month.”
“Eh?”
“What, dissatisfied?”
“No, of course not! Thank you very much, sir!”
“I’ll provide the money. Enter this school.”
“That’s really, too much, I couldn’t, and I might be so busy with classes that I couldn’t come to your mansion…”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Riiight!”
The receptionist was still trembling.
“She will register you. I have a class now, so I’ll be going.”
(If I get more confident with my magic, is my personality going to become like that…? No, it definitely won’t.)
“Then, this, here is the paperwork.”
“Ah. Thanks.”
It happened to be at the start of a new term when I was admitted to the school.
The receptionist led me around to various places, where I was given thing after thing after thing. Talking to her, I learned that many of the students came from other allied countries, and that all the students lived in the school dorms.
(Living in the dorms here? No, I don’t think so.)
Asking about the dorms, I found out that each student got a private room with a school-provided maid.
(How should I handle this? Simply not using the room they give me seems like the best option.)
Eventually, I’d collected everything, and the receptionist headed back towards her desk. I looked up where the alchemy classes were held in a guide booklet, and started walking that way.
(Walking here from my house takes a bit over an hour. Going back and forth every day would be too much. If only I had a bicycle, that wouldn’t be a problem. Oh, a bicycle might actually be possible. I should remember that.)
After a while, I reached a long hallway with several classrooms that seemed to be dedicated to alchemy. It seemed to be the time between classes when I arrived, with students going in and out.
(Can I just go into one, then? Eh, it’s probably fine. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s probably just a lecture. One or two extra people won’t stand out.)
The classroom was made of shiny marble, with inset patterns and letters made of glass and stones. It looked unnecessarily expensive. There were rows of wooden desks with fine craftsmanship and carved details, all facing towards the front. I sat down at a desk, as did most of the other students.
With the fancy desks, the marble building, and the noble students, it really felt like a fantasy school, even if the same thing could have been done in Japan.
“…….”
The other students were all staring at me.
They were all young, mostly in their teens with a couple in their early 20s, and they all had fancy clothes. I stuck out like a sore thumb. My instincts about classes from my college days had betrayed me.
“…hello, nice to meet you.”
I gave a group of them a nod.
(I should have sat closer to the exit.)
They started talking quietly to each other.
“Who’s that old guy?”
“And how old is he?”
“He’s not a teacher?”
“He’s sitting down at a desk.”
“What country is he from? His nose is too small.”
“His skin is all yellow, like a lizardman.”
“His face is so flat, too.”
(I have a bad feeling about this.)
The students kept talking like that until the teacher arrived, then they suddenly stopped. I wanted to just leave and go home, but the class was starting.
The students were still occasionally glancing at me. I tried to ignore them.
“I am the teacher for the second-year alchemy class, Lydia Nannuzzi.”
I wrote down her name in a notebook I’d received.
“Let’s get started immediately.”
Lydia started talking.
“Perapera pera peraperapera pera peraperapera perapera perapera. Perapera pera peraperapera pera pera perapera. Perapera peraperapera peraperaperapera pera perapera perapera pera.”
(She talks too fast! I can’t understand what she’s saying at all.)
I tried to write down some of what she was saying in the notebook, feeling like I was in the middle of a test I hadn’t studied for.
(This all seems new to me, so there must be some good information in here.)
It was several minutes later when I realized something.