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Chapter 08
Surviving as an F-Rank Healer
If I weren’t F-rank, I might have been treated better even at a slightly lower rank.
In other words, what I meant was that I was thinking ahead about this neglected situation while asking for support in making potions.
“I’m thinking of practicing for about a week before I sell them. Whatever succeeds during practice, I’ll just give away and use for promotion. How about that?”
“…….”
The homeroom teacher looked at me with a strangely piercing gaze.
Not only that, the other teachers around him started sneaking glances at me, pretending not to.
Of course, he had brought it up in the faculty room so that everyone, including their students, could hear.
Right. It’s good for everyone, isn’t it?
I get better through practice, and others can stock up on cheap emergency potions—it’s mutually beneficial.
Not that I plan to make cheap ones, though.
“Hmm.”
The homeroom teacher now seemed to be contemplating how to give permission.
This was my chance.
I confirmed that he had softened enough, then subtly added what I had planned.
“I’m not asking for a fancy place.”
This was the most important point.
“I heard there’s an unused manufacturing room in the old school building. Would it be alright if I used that?”
“……How do you even know about that?”
For the first time, the sharp homeroom teacher spoke without edge.
He even looked reluctant.
“Even so, that place is a bit…”
Another unnamed teacher tried to interject, but I kept my hands clasped in front of my chest and looked only at the homeroom teacher.
“I found it while looking for a place to eat my lunchbox.”
Jinhari had no one to eat with and was a poor special-class student who had tuition waived.
The support money to pay for school meals was taken by her family, so she survived each day on free bread or instant meals provided in the mornings or evenings.
And if anyone were a teacher, they would probably understand that.
A little sympathy now wouldn’t hurt.
“I see. I guess you don’t know why it was closed. The magic there is unstable.”
“Oh, I think it’ll be fine since I’m F-rank.”
“…….”
The homeroom teacher hesitated, looking reluctant.
But he would grant permission.
Even if it’s beneficial, he wouldn’t want to show support for an F-rank healer.
“Every semester, homeroom teachers receive performance bonuses based on their students’ results. It’s a system that measures efficiency.”
Supporting someone F-rank with no benefit would be a minus for him.
But in the old school building, that worry wouldn’t exist.
“I know why the magic there is unstable.”
In the original story, the protagonist finds a useless artifact and throws it as food for the magic sword.
Namely, a converter that changes HP into MP!
“Also, if you continuously give lower-grade potions to the ego inside, a function opens that speeds up HP recovery.”
Later, the protagonist struggles to tame the magic sword inside this artifact because of this feature.
They had to forcefully control a sword with infinite HP.
“I don’t need the sword, just want to use the other functions.”
The protagonist doesn’t need the sword anyway.
Choosing it later as a sacrifice for the sword just complicates things.
“Just donate it to people like me who need to run a factory.”
The reason I insist on this location is that it can convert lifespan into magic as well.
With countless reincarnations, he had many leftover lifespans that weren’t lived.
All of that would be collected and given as “extra HP” in this artifact episode.
And since I’m possessed, I might have “unused spare lifespan” too.
What if I do?
“I’ll alternate between using spare lifespan and my body’s HP.”
Then I can overcome the F-rank weakness of low HP with heavy workloads.
“It becomes an infinite potion factory!”
If I run it infinitely, my proficiency will also increase exponentially…
And I already have a separate way to get the materials for special potion practice!
If things go well, I could even mass-produce intermediate potions in the first semester of 1st grade using this infinite factory!
Hiding such thoughts, I tried to persuade the homeroom teacher with an innocent face.
“I’ll mainly make lower-grade potions, so unstable magic won’t be a problem.”
“……Why are you so desperate?”
The homeroom teacher asked, looking troubled as he listened.
I paused briefly, then smiled sheepishly and replied.
“Well, I’m lacking a lot. I have to work harder. So I won’t be a burden.”
Even if the homeroom teacher didn’t care if I died, he’d probably think it’s easier to just allow it at this point.
“…….”
Finally, the homeroom teacher handed over the key with a suspicious look.
A square-shaped iron key was attached to a bracelet.
“Thank you!”
“Don’t forget, you have to prepare the materials yourself.”
“Of course!”
I’ll grow conscientiously, and while I’m at it, attract future customers!
Success.
“When I successfully make one, I’ll be the first to bring it to you for inspection!”
I exclaimed with a bright smile, and the homeroom teacher frowned.
“Alright, now go. I need to prepare for the next class.”
“Yes!”
“Ha, I can tell they’re just trying to prevent anyone from getting hurt.”
As soon as the strange 1st-year student Jinhari left the faculty room, a teacher in the front muttered and intervened.
Choi Jihyung, only twenty-five, was annoyed that a B-rank promising assistant-type hunter had joined Narin and was constantly meddlesome.
Normally, I would ignore him, thinking he was like a mosquito buzzing around, but today it wasn’t that easy.
When I didn’t ignore him and glanced, the teacher continued muttering at length.
“Does anyone not know that most students die in the 1st-year final dungeon?”
“…….”
“Even with lower-grade potions, right? Why else would someone attach all these strange reasons and sell cheaply? It’s to reduce the death toll.”
“Is that how you see it?”
I replied sarcastically, and the teacher snorted.
Normally, I would have been intimidated, but today I didn’t care.
“If it wasn’t that, why would they bother with something that doesn’t benefit them at all?”
“Maybe they want to impress higher-ranked students.”
“Tsk tsk, if they fail at all, it’s just a blemish. Why bother?”
“……Ha. So what?”
Actually, Choi Jihyung knew he was (unusually) right.
He knew, but didn’t say it. It was meaningless and temporary anyway.
“Well, it’s admirable. Won’t last long, though.”
The annoying teacher clicked his tongue regretfully, as if agreeing.
“If only they weren’t F-rank, tsk.”
If only they weren’t…
Knowing this teacher might make unfair deals with a 17-year-old 1st-year, Choi Jihyung narrowed his eyes and watched carefully.
Especially now, just after Jinhari, not even treated as a student, was generously allowed a manufacturing room in the old school building—it was irritating.
“Ahem. Well, they’re young, so it’s natural to think about it once. Sometimes kids like that exist.”
“An F-rank doing that isn’t admirable, it’s weird.”
Yet he continued to speak, because it was needed.
She said she would fetch the materials herself.
Even if lower-grade materials could be collected in the school’s artificial forests, she insisted on doing it herself.
It was a truly unfair contract.
He just hoped this F-rank wouldn’t die here in a bad mood and could safely drop out or get expelled.
Not volunteering to roll the dice like this.
Tsk, what a bother.
To the clearly displeased Choi Jihyung, the teacher said:
“Well, if that student sells cheaply, the kids’ survival rate increases, so I’m grateful.”
“There’s nothing to be grateful for.”
Choi Jihyung sighed, organizing his irritation, and replied indifferently.
“They won’t last long anyway.”
“Just grateful for even a little while.”
Who can remain altruistic for a life-or-death matter for long?
This was just naive, childlike behavior, done because she didn’t know reality.
“And for beginners, even lower-grade potions are hard to make. I guarantee she’ll give up in a week.”
“Ahem. True.”
No room for disagreement here.
He really believed that.
“Hehe, teacher! I did it!”
Until a week later, when she ran to him, hands scarred by burns, holding out a potion.
