Genius Wizard Conceals His Origins

T/N: Edited 10/27/24.

White snow powder flutters.

It looked quite novel.

The time that has passed is like sand slipping through the cracks of fingers, making it difficult to estimate its magnitude. I can only guess from the unfamiliarity of the snowflakes outside the window.

Three years.

That much time has passed.

I turned 19.

That evening.

Thud.

I closed the book with a refreshing feeling. I had finally finished the algebra textbook that had been tormenting me for over ten months.

The book that made me clutch my head every night while receiving Benjamin’s teachings was finally finished!

It was an achievement that couldn’t be beat.

“Ugh.”

After stretching refreshingly, I looked out the window.

The sky was darkening.

Although it was winter when the sun set early, it seemed it was slowly becoming evening.

Sure enough, when I headed downstairs, the kitchen was gradually getting busy.

Meal preparation is on a rotation basis, but everyone prepares together as much as possible.

It was the same today. If I remember correctly, Benjamin was in charge of cooking, but I could see Dorothy carrying a basket of potatoes from the kitchen.

I quickly went down the stairs.

“Dorothy. How far have you prepared?”

“I’m in the middle of making potato salad.”

“Then I’ll take care of the vegetables.”

As I said that and rolled up my sleeves, Dorothy responded with a grin.

While my relationship with Benjamin was casual from the beginning and didn’t change much over time, there were quite a few changes between Dorothy and me.

Like how I pondered between “Lieutenant,” “Sister,” “Sister but not really sister…” and ended up just calling her Dorothy.

Or how Dorothy, who used to only give me cold stares, started smiling at me (she’s still cold to Benjamin).

Putting that aside, the physical changes alone were significant.

My height grew uncontrollably over the three years.

As if arguing that my small stature was entirely due to a lack of nutrients, my height shot up to over six feet (T/N: approx. 180 cm) like a ghost when food became plentiful.

I, who used to have to look up slightly at Dorothy, could now see the top of her head.

On the contrary, Dorothy had to tilt her head to face me.

While the two of us were in the midst of preparing dinner…

Benjamin called out from upstairs.

“Eugene! Can you come up for a moment?”

“Benjamin, you come down and see. What if the person on dinner duty is holed up in the attic?”

“You’re quite picky. I need a helping hand here, too.”

It seemed he had his own difficulties. I asked for Dorothy’s understanding with a glance and headed to Benjamin’s study.

Creak.

“You’re here.”

“From where did the letter come this time?”

“The usual Magic Usage Suspicion Notice from the military… and one from the University of Magic. I’ve scribbled the contents roughly, so I’d appreciate it if you could write for me.”

“Got it.”

I took the stationery and fountain pen and sat down at the study desk.

He calls himself a con artist magic scholar, but he’s a person who once held a position at the University of Magic. His reputation wasn’t built in vain, as letters would occasionally fly in even while he lived in a different place.

Benjamin’s expression looked quite serious.

The contents of the letters probably weren’t serious. He’s just tired of coming up with flowery language to match the letter format.

At times like this, Benjamin would have me dictate for him.

This was a task that started as Frauvian cursive writing practice.

However, as the workload increased considerably and Benjamin started paying me, ghostwriting naturally became my job.

“Let’s see….”

I adjusted my grip on the pen and quickly wrote down the letter.

The first letter. I’ve received the ‘Magic Use Suspicion Notice’ from the military so many times that I now have a rough idea of how to reply in my head.

‘I don’t know about it.’ ‘Could it be a mistake?’ ‘Sorry for making you worry.’ Just combine these three things randomly and scribble them down, and it’s done.

Dorothy hinted that the receiving side would skim through it anyway.

I put a period in an instant.

“I’ll finish quickly, so go down and eat dinner.”

“Okay, okay. Thank you….”

Is creativity linked to stamina when you get old?

With that suspicion, I opened the second letter.

[Sender – Professor Klaus Müller, Federal University of Magic]

Federal University of Magic.

After briefly skimming over the words that stimulated my heart, I looked at the contents.

It was just a few lines of text.

[Benjamin. There has been an astonishing discovery in the academe, so I’m briefly informing you about it.]

[Do you remember a scholar named Thomson? He has turned the Maso Particle Theory upside down. He proposed a particle model that aligns with the existing examples of cathode ray experiments.]

[According to the paper, maso particles are not the smallest unit of matter.]

[He proposed a structure where smaller particles with negative charges are embedded inside the maso, like raisins in bread.]

[Currently, discussions are ongoing, and there are some parts that cannot be explained, but the experimental achievements are likely to be accepted.]

[That’s all for now. I hope for your swift return.]

For a moment, I was engrossed in the contents, forgetting to wield my pen.

Maso particles.

I learned about them while studying natural philosophy. They said it’s the smallest unit of matter that can no longer be divided into smaller particles.

But the letter was saying that the theory has been disproven.

“How can that be?”

That means the book was wrong. To be precise, it’s about to be wrong.

The moment that theory is accepted, magic textbooks will have to revise and rewrite hundreds and thousands of lines of text.

That’s how shocking the discovery was!

But isn’t Professor Müller calmly just conveying the news?

My guess is…

“…Are such discoveries frequent in the Federation these days?”

It’s an era of development and discovery.

I could feel it even from a distant land. The flow of time is constantly accelerating.

“……”

I picked up the pen again.

I wrote down the reply that Benjamin scribbled, organizing it well.

For some reason, the fountain pen kept getting stuck.

It had been three years since I became a disciple and started living under the same roof as the Oslo family. It was a period of frequent academic discoveries across the sea.

In such an era, I was still inexperienced.

I returned to my room after finishing dinner.

In my right hand were two pounds. It was the pocket money Benjamin gave me under the pretext of ghostwriting fees.

If there was a downside, it would be that I didn’t really have anywhere to spend money.

I, who originally lived as a beggar, didn’t have much use for such a large sum of money, even if I knew how to indulge in luxury.

There’s only one thing I do when I have leftover coins, both then and now.

Clang!

Saving.

The tin can I had been using since I lived under the bridge made a clear sound as soon as it swallowed the coins.

It’s no longer the sound that used to echo because of an empty space. It was the harsh sound of metal colliding with metal.

It was only natural.

“Now… 80 pounds.”

Because it was full.

#January 28th. Snow.

“Eugene. It’s been three years.”

Benjamin, who came to my room, laid out the introduction with a serious expression.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t expect you to absorb everything that others learn in ten years in just three. I knew you had a knack for liberal arts, but from the alphabet to basic algebra in three years, this is… a knowledge absorption ability that those in the know would covet.”

“Hmm. Aren’t you praising me too much?”

“Heh heh heh. Well, should I tell you that you still have a long way to go?”

Benjamin, leaning next to the desk, laughed slyly.

“Haha….”

Still have a long way to go.

Maybe that’s what I actually wanted to hear more.

I scratched my cheek for no reason.

Even though Benjamin said that on the outside, he probably knew everything in reality. How long had I been holed up in front of the desk for the past three years?

A genius is someone who produces 100% of the results with 10% of effort. Even if the results are the same, they are fundamentally different from the average people who pour in 100% of the effort to get 100% of the results.

I was someone who had to pour in 200% of my effort to get 100% of results.

Humanities. Mathematics. Natural philosophy. Education and common sense.

These are things that students born and raised in the Federation would naturally be knowledgeable about.

I dedicated three years to catch up to reach their toes.

Is it a talent to devote time completely to achieve one’s goals? Indeed, from that perspective, I might be a genius.

“By the way, was what I learned ‘basic’ algebra? I thought I had learned pretty much everything like equations and nth-degree functions.”

“Every discipline has an onion-like charm. Congratulations on peeling off one layer.”

“…So, what brings you to my room? Are you going to use me as a bookend?”

That’s what I said, but…

In fact, I had a bit of a hunch.

Because the book Benjamin was holding in his arms, a book boasting a tremendous thickness, looked somewhat familiar.

“Hmm? No.”

Benjamin placed that book on the desk. It landed not with a “Thud.” but with a “Thump.”

The title and author’s name are embroidered in gold on the deep burgundy cover.

I read the text written in Frauvian without hesitation.

《Basic Calculus / J. D. Trawets》

“Oh.”

Here it comes.

Even a mere beggar can recite poetry under a professor in three years. I knew what that word meant.

Calculus.

Benjamin, with his arms crossed, flashed a confident smile.

“We need to peel off one more layer of the onion. How about it? This is the first flower of mathematics.”

Ah.

I started to feel slightly afraid.