Chapter 201 [Illustration]

Chapter 201 [Illustration]

After my rough explanation, the expressions of the three were all slightly different, but I could feel their surprise, which came from two sources.

The first was that the suggestion to form a joint club between Class A and B, who typically regarded each other with indifference, had come from a representative from Class A. The second was that it was not a magic major student who made the suggestion but me, someone completely unfamiliar with magic. The suggestion itself was surprising, but why was I the one to bring it to them? I could sense their doubts.

“I came up with the idea myself, and I’ll participate in the club as well.”

“You’re... a superhuman though.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought too...”

“Yeah...”

The three of them shared the same doubts, expressed in their own way. They seemed to have let go of their remaining bit of anxiety, since I was bringing up the formation of a club and not trying to stir up some serious trouble.

I was only joining the club since Harriet had asked me to, so I didn’t really know what I could contribute. I didn’t even think I would be able to participate in every meeting.

“Well, I won’t be involved in the main stuff. Think of it as a side role. To put it plainly, I’ll handle whatever miscellaneous tasks there are.”

“Miscellaneous tasks?”

“You?”

“... You’re lying.”

Even though they didn’t even know me properly, when I said I’d take care of miscellaneous tasks, they all looked at me with the same expression that said, ‘There’s no way you’d do something like that.’

‘I don’t know if there would be any miscellaneous tasks, but what else can I do? Should I teach you magic formulas then? To be honest, I’m just a prop!’

“Anyway, I think this is a good opportunity for both you and the Class A kids. Ultimately, the key is you, Louis Ankton.”

“... You’re saying I should teach them magic?”

They had some pretty unbelievable reactions to me telling them that Louis Ankton would be teaching them magic.

All three of them stood there with their mouths wide open, as if I had just spouted complete nonsense.

“I can’t even use magic, so how am I supposed to teach it? I only study the theory; I can’t actually perform any of it,” Louis Ankton said, his face reddening with embarrassment.

Although he couldn’t become a mage, Louis Ankton dreamed of becoming a magic scholar.

But what magic scholars truly wanted to become were mages. It made sense in their heads, but those who couldn’t use magic but still wanted to pursue it typically became magic scholars. Louis Ankton was probably feeling frustrated and resentful of his inability to use magic.

It was a sensitive topic for him, and his face was burning as he spoke about knowing magic but not being able to use it.

“Why couldn’t you do that? Magic has been created by magic scholars before, right? According to Harriet, some of the most amazing figures among magic scholars are as powerful as grand mages.”

This was something I’d heard from Harriet. When I suggested to her that Louis Ankton would teach them magic, she’d thoughtfully considered it and confirmed that there were indeed such cases.

Ultimately, though, it came down to this: in the original story, although Louis Ankton couldn’t use magic, he nevertheless succeeded in improving the magic proficiency and skill levels of the students around him.

It seemed like the world had expanded this backstory and established that magic scholars could also teach mages. According to Harriet, some remarkable magic scholars had achieved feats greater than grand mages, and were respected as significant figures.

Louis inclined his head in acknowledgement. “That’s true, but...”

I could sense that he was grateful for what I’d said. A magic scholar who couldn’t use magic had to carry the fate of being considered incomplete for their whole life.

Even among mages, enchanters and magic crafters are regarded highly, while battlemages were not as respected. But Louis wasn’t even a battlemage, let alone a mage.

It was obvious that mages of the academic community would greatly look down on him. Yet, individuals such as he could become greater than mages if they made significant achievements and could even leave their mark on the history of magic.

Louis Ankton was still a student. However, his inner self had been twisted in such a way that he secretly looked down on stupid people, because it was the only thing he could rely on to feel good. Internally, he was filled with resentment, anger, and sorrow for being unable to use magic.

Louis Ankton, B-2, specialized in academics and had a strong ego, but low self-esteem.

“... Can I really do it?” he said.

I crossed my arms and furrowed my brow. “If you can’t, then who else could do it?”

“What?”

“If not you, then who else could possibly do it? I’m confident that only you can do this. If you still don’t believe me, just give it a try for this semester. If you have no positive effect on the rest of them, I’ll crawl under your legs while barking like a dog.”

“H-Huh? You’d go that far?”

My conviction made his expression grow even more bewildered, and the other two who were listening quietly were also taken aback.

“Come on, do you really think I’d do something like that?” I said.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I’m saying there’s no way it won’t work, you dummy.”

If it didn’t work, I’d crawl through Louis Ankton’s legs while barking like a dog. But I had no intention of doing that because there was no way it wouldn’t work.

Louis Ankton’s expression grew slightly strange because of my wild confidence. It wasn’t joy, sorrow, or any easily-discernible emotion; it was something else. It was as if he was experiencing recognition for the first time in his life.

***

We discussed several other matters, and in the end, they agreed. Louis Ankton, despite his sense of inferiority when it came to mages, seemed quite hopeful about the idea of teaching magic to mages.

While he perhaps did not fully trust my confidence, he seemed more than willing to give it a try.

Cristina, with her lively personality, said it sounded interesting and that she’d definitely participate.

“Actually, I was a bit scared. I wondered if I had done something wrong to you,” she said, scratching her cheek.

“There’s no way that would be possible. We haven’t even interacted much,” I responded.

“Well, even so...”

‘The delinquent Reinhart wants to talk to me? Did I wrong him somehow?’ was probably her first thought.

‘Are you guys worse than me?’

Maybe they were thinking that since I was the one who had brought up the topic, that I should also be the one to take responsibility.

“I wanted you all to meet up and discuss your individual views on magic, your ambitions, and your goals, but looking at you guys, it seems like you all are just going to sip your drinks and then head off to sleep.”

I had hoped they would freely talk among themselves, but now they were leaving the discussion to me, the one person among the group with no connection to magic.

“Anyway, you all know why we’re here. I believe Louis Ankton has great potential as a magic scholar. Beyond that, I think we can choose our own research topics or explore various methods of studying magic. Perhaps gaining knowledge in other areas of magic might solve some of the problems you’re facing.

“Though I’m not well-versed in magic, sometimes solutions come from the most unexpected places.”

I wasn’t sure if interdisciplinary integration applied to magic the same way it did in other fields, but knowledge was power, right?

“So, you all know that the idea is to form a club focused on researching magic. I wanted you to discuss amongst yourselves whether you actually want to do this or not. But looking at you guys now, it’s clear that this conversation isn’t going anywhere.”

Instead of a lively discussion about magic and coming to a decision—“Yes, let’s do it!” or “No, let’s not”—everyone was too shy to say anything.

I didn’t have the ability to engage in a discussion of magic, but since everyone was signaling me to do something, I had to take charge.

Thud!

I slammed the table.

“So, are we doing this or not? Raise your hand if you don’t want to participate.”

Everyone stared at me wide-eyed at my sudden demand for a show of hands.

“No one, right? If there are no objections, then we’re going ahead with it.”

Everyone looked aghast at the quick, unilateral decision.

Harriet, shocked by the sudden vote and how I had railroaded the decision through, exclaimed, “Wh-What? Hey! You can’t just decide that suddenly! We didn’t even discuss it fir—”

“Who were the ones staring at me like helpless kids, unable to say a word, instead of having that good discussion?”

“Th-That...!”

“Then from now on, let’s start an energetic discussion about magic research. Go on, do it.”

“B-But...”

Harriet turned red and shivered, unable to say anything in response to my challenge to start the discussion immediately.

“If you don’t want things to be railroaded, then discuss! Hurry up.”

Harriet wasn’t the only one who was silent. The others were like mute sheep as well. Honestly, though, when someone suddenly said, “Discuss now!” how many people could actually immediately start to say, “Oh, well, this and that”?

The same went for raising hands. There are usually fewer people who raise their hands than those who don’t.

When you want to pass something or make a decision, asking who wants to do it is less effective than asking who doesn’t want to do it, since social pressure makes people hesitant. That’s why instead of saying, “Raise your hand if you want to participate,” I said, “Raise your hand if you don’t want to.”

‘And would you look at that, no one raised their hand, so it was unanimously passed. No take-backs now.’

“Anyway, it’s decided. We’re doing this. If anyone suddenly changes their mind and says they can’t do it, they’d better be prepared.”

‘You all left the responsibility to me and did nothing, so accept the consequences.’

“You’re going to see how things work now,” I continued.

They’d have to get used to me leveraging my delinquent reputation when it suited me, even though I didn’t like being seen that way. They’d all gathered here to have a discussion, and now they found themselves forced into a newly-formed club for not participating in the discussion. Everyone looked at me with bewildered expressions, except for one person.

“But...”

“... Yeah? What is it? Do you have something to say?”

Anna de Gerna was looking at me with a creepy smile.

“Then, who will be the president?” she asked.

“The president?”

That’s right, a club needed a president, and usually a supervising teacher. Six members was a decent size for a Royal Class club, so maybe we’d be assigned a supervising teacher. Although we didn’t necessarily need a vice president with just six members, we did need a president.

Anna seemed to believe that since we had decided to go ahead with this, we needed to elect a leader.

‘But why do you keep looking at me?’

“... What’s up? Why is everyone staring at me suddenly?”

It wasn’t just her. The other members were also staring at me. “No way. This isn’t fair.”

‘Don’t even think about such nonsense, you fools! This is a magic research club, or research department, related to magic!’

I was growing frantic.

‘Y-You’ve got to be seriously kidding, right? I’m the one in charge of miscellaneous tasks, the extra one here. I’ve got nothing to do with magic.’

Being president was a huge responsibility, and it only made sense that the president could use magic. There would be so much to handle—having to go to various places to handle club-related matters, securing approvals, speaking with teachers, and potentially interacting with the student council. That was too much work for someone like me, who was supposed to be handling only the small stuff...

‘Uh... Wait, what? Handling miscellaneous tasks... Isn’t that what all this is at the end of the day?’

Harriet, with a triumphant smile, looked at me as if to say, ‘I got you now, you’re screwed.’

“Raise your hand if you don’t want Reinhart to be the president!” Harriet shouted.

“Me!” I exclaimed.

I was the only one who raised my hand.

And so, I ended up becoming the president of the Magic Research Club without knowing how to use any magic at all.