SPO 17

Chapter 17

“Yes, my name is Archel Nodovan. If I’m a student, would it still be possible for me to work part-time? I don’t think there’s anything like that in the school rules.”

Of course there wasn’t.

Who would ever expect a Udea student to work a part-time job?

They were all children from shockingly wealthy families.
Even if there were exceptions, most of their problems could be solved with loans, so there was no reason to work part-time in the first place.

Taking advantage of this loophole in the rules, I straightened my shoulders confidently.

But the man waved his hands.

“Of course you can. Please fill in the blanks here and come back in two days.”

I wrote down my basic information on the paper he handed me and stood up.

‘Since I’m the student council president, won’t he look favorably on me?’

I had thought of this as nothing more than a tool for playing matchmaker, but… it might actually be useful!

It was close to the dormitory, the working hours weren’t too demanding, and the hourly wage was ridiculously good.

I swallowed and looked at him with bright, eager eyes.

“I really want to work here!”

Humming, I entered my room.

Janet, who had said she was going out, was still lying on her bed.

I stopped her from leaving and spread out some cookies to start a little chat.

“So in the end, it was all thanks to you, Archel. We hit the jackpot.”

“It’s just that the desserts were good.”

“True. I’ve been to almost every dessert house, but the butter here is on another level. I’ve never tasted anything this soft.”

When Janet asked if they had carrot desserts, I firmly told her no.

She looked depressed, so I put a cookie into her mouth. She immediately perked up and started chatting again.

“The former student council president was pretty famous too, but I’m really looking forward to you. You caused such a big stir with just the orientation—imagine what’ll happen later!”

Every time Janet took a bite, crumbs fell all over the floor.

I shrugged while wiping them up with a tissue.

“Who knows.”

My main job was to act as a bridge between Rena and the male leads.

So I had planned to do the student council work halfheartedly and let it slide.

‘Though, knowing my personality, I doubt that’ll work.’

…This time, I just got fired up and worked hard.

I brushed off my uneasiness and dusted my shoulders.

“Oh, right!”

Janet suddenly jumped up.

The cookie crumbs stuck to her body rained down like snow.

I gave up and grabbed a broom.

While I was cleaning, Janet handed me something she had taken from her desk.

It was the calendar distributed by Udea.

Each page was marked with thick yellow highlighter where she had noted academic events.

“Field trip, charity event, health check and fitness test, festival?”

“I marked the fun-looking ones. Don’t they sound exciting?”

Unlike Janet, who was grinning brightly, I couldn’t smile.

‘Why are there so many…?’

Right. I had momentarily forgotten.

Dumaea was a “purpose-driven dating sim” that fully exploited the academy setting to create romance routes.

Which meant every conceivable academy event would be held—without exception.

I slapped my forehead.

“Archel? What’s wrong?”

This game missed not a single event in existence.

‘Then who prepares all of them?’

…Don’t tell me it’s me?

While those people are busy flirting and fighting over love, am I the one doing all the actual work?

A chill ran up my spine, and I slammed my forehead onto the floor.

I’m sorry, Archel of my past life…
I didn’t know how hard you worked. I said such cruel things about you.

How furious must she have been watching Rena and all those male leads fool around while ignoring their duties?

And then, Riheart flashed through my mind.

‘What if he keeps acting like this?’

If Riheart remained this uncooperative, the student council would never function properly.

With so many obstacles ahead, was I supposed to deal with everything alone?

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Love is born through labor.

I will never die from overwork alone.

With that firm resolve, my chest burned with determination.

An opportunity to deal with Riheart came sooner than expected.

“Next class, we’ll be measuring your individual mana capacity.”

Professor Dakota, who taught Magic Studies I, placed both hands on the podium.

“This is the first step in designing a mana enhancement plan suited to each of you by comparing potential and output. So please make sure you’re in good condition.”

As soon as he finished speaking, excited voices erupted.

“Udea’s measurements must be more accurate than anywhere else, right?”

“Please let mine be high!”

Of course, as someone with no mana, I stared out the window indifferently.

Innate mana capacity was fixed.

But using and controlling that mana was a different matter.

Though difficult, it wasn’t impossible to increase both the quantity and quality of mana through effort.

That was why education and training were so important, and one of the many reasons Udea was so highly regarded.

“First, students without mana will be excluded from the output test.”

At those words, glances were directed toward the magic engineering students.

Unlike elemental majors, they could enroll regardless of whether they had mana.

“Don’t tell me the student council president is one of them?”

“If she has no mana, that means she became president through studying alone. That’s kind of lame.”

‘Say whatever you want.’

It’s not like mana would suddenly appear.

But apparently, I was the only one thinking that way.

Marcel Tessen, who sat next to me, lowered her head deeply.

With her messy hair tied back and glasses on, she stared at her desk, lips tightly pressed.

‘She’s the unlucky one who became the representative of the magic engineering department.’

It wasn’t hard to tell she had no mana.

Magic engineering students mainly created magic circles and artifacts, so lacking mana didn’t affect their school life.

If there was one advantage to having mana, it was being able to operate devices without mana stones—saving money during development.

…Correction.

It saved a ridiculous amount of money.

‘And maybe… it makes you look cooler?’

The real problem was people’s gaze.

Students without mana had to endure the subtle superiority of those who had it.

Those quiet looks and gestures crushed your spirit.

My reputation had improved after the orientation, but once people learned I had no mana, things would get noisy again.

‘What a hassle.’

I had too much to do to worry about trivial things.

“Professor, I have a suggestion.”

A deep, pleasant voice cut through the noisy atmosphere.

“What is it, Riheart?”

Professor Dakota looked at him.

“How about letting students without mana participate in the measurement as well?”

Despite his calm tone, the suggestion was unusual, and everyone blinked in surprise.

They seemed to think Riheart must have some special plan.

To me, it was obvious he was plotting something nasty.

Seeing him biting his nails under the desk only confirmed it.

“I’ve heard that Udea’s measuring devices can detect even trace amounts of internal mana. Before enrollment, we only checked whether mana was released outward. So isn’t it possible that different results might appear now?”

“You’re saying some people might have latent mana that hasn’t manifested yet?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

At that moment, Marcel’s hands began to tremble violently.

She hid them under her desk, her lips clenched tight.

Riheart’s words sounded considerate on the surface…

‘But they’re not.’

At this age, spontaneous mana manifestation was extremely rare.

And no matter how advanced Udea’s equipment was, detecting unmanifested mana was nearly impossible.

The probability? About one in a thousand.

Yet he wanted us to stand in front of everyone for that tiny chance—just to confirm we had none.

It was practically a public execution.

From measuring capacity to demonstrating output, everything was done openly.

After seeing a big fat “0,” we would quietly walk back to our seats.

All in front of emotionally volatile noble kids.

“Well, it could be a good opportunity, but wouldn’t it require their consent?”

Professor Dakota stroked his chin.

Then, suddenly, the arrow turned toward me.

“What do you think, Archel?”

“……”

“Isn’t it a good chance for you too? You might discover hidden mana.”

At Riheart’s words, the classroom buzzed.

He had just implied that I had no mana.

It would become public sooner or later, but it still didn’t feel good.

I met Riheart’s gaze for a moment, then spoke to the professor.

“I’m fine with it. But I’d like to be measured my own way.”

“Your own way?”

“I don’t think mana that hasn’t existed until now will suddenly appear. Instead, I’d like to output mana using magical devices.”

Professor Dakota raised his eyebrows, signaling me to continue.

“I’ll make an artifact so impressive that lacking mana won’t even be considered a weakness.”

I was confident.

Back in Medina Village, studying without comparison, I was insecure.
But now I knew.

‘That I’m amazing.’

“Wouldn’t it be better to come down having done something, rather than just confirming I have no mana?”

Thanks to Riheart, I had learned to see everything suspiciously.

With a rare forced smile, I looked at him.

This time, I would crush him so completely that he wouldn’t even be able to harbor bad intentions.