<346 - Skipping Classes in the Administration Department 2>
“I shall begin the lecture.”
Professor Stand Mill, with a strict expression, was among the older faculty members at the Gift Academy, where many young professors flourished.
His face bore the deep lines of regret that come with age, hardened by beliefs he stubbornly clung to, giving him an inflexible demeanor.
No one could disregard him for his age; his steadfast spirit commanded the attention of students.
“The current society is maintained by the talent gifted to humanity by the goddesses. Those endowed with the talent of a swordsman can master sword-related functions three times faster, while those with the talent of a farmer can excel in agricultural functions three times faster.”
Talent.
For players who want to stack any abilities, it could be an annoying hindrance—but sometimes, when your desired path aligns with your talent, it can lead to explosive growth. A frustrating but appreciated phenomenon.
However, for NPCs living only once, talent itself becomes an inescapable curse.
“If there exists a farmer with the talent to be a swordsman, the world would say this: You have no talent for swordsmanship. Don’t waste your own talent.”
“…”
“Everyone experiences this at least once. When what you want to do is different from what you can do. The feeling of being at a crossroads with multiple life choices.”
The elderly professor maintained a brief silence, observing the faint anguish and imagination floating on the faces of his young students.
Thud.
The little time given for contemplation was scattered by his palm striking the podium.
“If you’ve wavered in my story, you’ve at least once been deceived by family, acquaintances, or society.”
“!?”
“A farmer’s talent? Truly, those with such talent among all farmers are less than 1%. Yet, the ones who claim to have a farmer’s talent outnumber actual farmers by more than 10%. I’ll give extra points to the first student who answers why.”
Masugaki Princess raised her hand energetically.
“Isn’t it because they package their future under the name of talent to force the career they expect?”
“Correct. I will award extra points to the Masugaki student.”
Usually, Oknodie, known to give newbies a chance to answer, shot a glance at Masugaki Princess for answering correctly on the first attempt.
Masugaki stuck her tongue out playfully, her long, ruby-red tongue annoying.
“The Empire does not wish for the working class to ascend to the warrior class. Thus, they continually assert: Adventures are tough and arduous. Monsters are strong, and outsiders are feared.”
“They want us to hold a plow instead of a sword. Those who aspire to be adventurers create a trend of mockery. If one does not follow the path set by society, anyone becomes a target of ridicule.”
“When those who wish to stray from that path appear, they force the ‘Trainer Qualification Completion’ at set times every year and collect ‘Qualification Exam Fees’ to make entry difficult.”
Not just the learners but even the teachers find it hard to teach easily.
Thus, the art of swordsmanship drifts away from people.
“Unless there’s a truly passionate instructor or student, both teaching and learning swordsmanship become rare. Moreover, the structure forces instructors who have spent a lot of time and money for the exam fee to raise tuition unless they are wealthy or running a charity.”
“With forced consumption, learning requires money, and while the poor barely mimic a single movement, the wealthy master swordsmanship. This is why it’s easy for the upper class to become swordsmen but difficult for the lower class.”
It’s easy for those at the top of the class pyramid to learn techniques from the lower class, but hard for those at the bottom to learn from the upper class.
“Restrictions imposed by institutionalized techniques and regulations artificially control the number of swordsmen produced in a country. This is the background that led to the establishment of a ‘Tutorial Institute’ by the Empire to reduce revolutionary warriors in an era where many farmers join the ‘Revolutionary Army.’”
Students felt an inexplicable solemnity.
It was the solemnity that arises from facing a troubling reality, where one cannot muster the courage to correct their faults.
So what? Do I need to understand the struggles of the lower class?
What does that have to do with me?
While the nobles among the students cast arrogant glances, Professor Stand Mill chose not to address it.
“In the monopolistic technique lecture, you will learn about the systems devised by society to monopolize a function, along with the expected effects and results.”
“Learning this won’t immediately change your lives. However, it will guarantee a different perspective on the world.”
“Part of this involves realizing how remarkable the opportunity for learning that you currently enjoy really is.”
Despite the Gift Academy’s high practical training emphasis, Stand Mill’s theoretical lecture made students yawn now and then.
However, not just the influential first-years like Oknodie and Masugaki Princess, but also Prince Hector, the Black Knight Mob, and Jaku of Dark Mana, all focused intently.
Except for the two who genuinely knew why they needed to concentrate, none but those two merely attempted to mimic what they were focused on.
At least the atmosphere of study was excellent.
Professor Stand Mill concluded the lecture without a single practical exercise until the end.
“It’s no different from last week?”
“Oknodie and the new students caused a review, after all.”
“Still, it’s boring since we aren’t using our bodies.”
Dissatisfaction was echoed among students, including Mob, who revealed his suspicions.
“Oknodie. Why are you taking this class?”
“I want to learn a function!”
“A function you want to learn…? Does this lecture actually teach some functions?”
“Well, there’s a limit to how many can learn, but yes!”
Monopolistic Technique.
Why does it have to be monopolistic?
Mob felt an ominous foreboding.
After starting training under Oknodie, he ended up donning both full plate armor and Bikini Armor, leading to a developed crisis perception.
Even now, the warning level of this crisis perception was stronger than when he put on Bikini Armor.
Though it wasn’t as terrible as the hardship endured on the cruise ship, for it to be considered a dangerous crisis within the academy was too alarming!
“Can I keep attending this class?”
“It doesn’t particularly matter! It’s not a physically demanding class.”
“Phew.”
“Still, remember this.”
“Remember what?”
“In the Administration Department, there are gentle professors like Myung So, but also landmines like Professor Plato!”
“!!!”
Oh no.
I had completely forgotten.
Professor Plato, notorious for being the toughest in the First Semester Fitness Improvement class.
Even students who weren’t in the upper class felt the fear when they saw upper-class students barely making it to the lounge or dorm after each lecture, their legs trembling.
He must be a really tough professor!
It’s no wonder there’d be a sense of dread towards a professor who squeezes out every bit of strength like wringing a wet towel.
Now thinking he’s the one I’m about to attend a class from, a fear I didn’t even have before began to creep in.
…Is it really okay to take this?
“With such a mindset, you might as well drop the course.”
“Ouch. Aren’t you scared, Jaku?”
Upon sharing the story told by Oknodie, Jaku scoffed.
“If it’s not physically demanding, it will become a mentally challenging class. When talking about monopolies, a conflict will arise between those trying to protect limited resources and those attempting to seize them.”
“Oh.”
“It’s highly likely that students will battle it out for function monopolization using the content learned during lecture time, thus achieving monopoly or scoring points in midterms and finals.”
Mob honestly admired.
“You’re really smart, huh? To grasp that in just one lecture.”
“This is nothing. Just as the professor said…”
“?”
“…No, it wouldn’t help to tell you anything.”
“Ah, why don’t you share a bit with me?”
Even under Mob’s pressures, Jaku kept his mouth shut.
Truly a talented 1%.
Those who are evaluated to have talent in the lower-class functions but do not belong to the top 10%.
The 1% are individuals like Oknodie.
The 10% are individuals like Mob.
He himself belonged to the remaining 90%.
Even if the state proclaims that there’s no talent, he can’t help but feel the gap between those with and without genuine talent, all while being an utterly dull fool.
If one such as he could rise to the position to monopolize functions and make them his own, he could prevent those stronger than himself from wielding swords.
A lightning revelation struck Jaku’s mind.
Isn’t the true meaning of function monopolization precisely that?
A dullard’s way to crush a genius.
If any genius can’t even recognize their own talent and is deprived of the opportunity to use it, their talent will wither away.
“Surely, the swordsmanship tutorial institute concept was something propagated from the Empire to each kingdom.”
Starting from a mere tutorial institute, if they begin to produce promising swordsmen, it will transform into a full-fledged swordsmanship guild.
Swordsmen with strength distinct from reckless adventurers swinging blades.
Thus, the path of a swordsman is reserved only for the upper class who can afford the exorbitant tuition fees.
“What exactly are the Empire and kingdom afraid of, to go this far to monopolize functions?”
Are they frightened of geniuses like Oknodie?
Once his eyes were opened, a view unfolded.
Then what about the Gift Academy?
A sanctuary for talented kids to forcefully leap over the educational barriers built by the Empire and kingdoms.
This is… nothing less than a den of heretics opposing the monopoly of the Empire and kingdoms.
“The Empire… the academy… the foundation…”
Jaku’s deepening thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a paper airplane that flew in from somewhere and hit his head.
“Sorry, first-year! Could you pick that up and throw it back to me?”
Feeling a tinge of regret, Jaku picked up the airplane.
And with his hand, he unfolded the paper airplane and signed in the designated area with his writing instrument.
“!?”
The one who threw the paper airplane, Velocasio, grinned widely.
“Finally snagged one. A useful first-year slave.”
