The Adult World Is So Complicated

On the stage of the International Alchemy Conference, an alchemist in his sixties was using clumsy English to tell the audience about the development and decline of alchemy in recent years. Albert's eyelids twitched, and he nearly shut his eyes and let the man put him to sleep.

Albert had been woken up early that morning. Even after drinking a large cup of strong tea, he could not stop the drowsiness from washing over him, and he had been yawning nonstop ever since.

Isobel, seated beside him, was no better off. Catherine and Valeria were leaning against each other with their eyes closed, dozing.

To keep themselves awake and avoid being hypnotized by the boring speeches, many of the wizards attending the conference were whispering to one another. The wizard onstage had only managed to drown them out because his voice was amplified through a microphone. Otherwise, hearing all the murmurs from the audience would probably have left him rather helpless.

"Mr. Sera, has Professor Dumbledore not attended the International Alchemy Conference since receiving the Pioneering Contribution Gold Award at the Cairo International Alchemy Conference?"

To keep himself from falling asleep, Albert started chatting with someone too. He had also picked up on something from the wizard's speech.

"I'm not sure. But I really haven't seen Dumbledore attend the International Alchemy Conference in the past few decades." Sera was not surprised by this. He knew perfectly well what the reason was.

It could not be helped. That fellow onstage was spraying spittle everywhere as he lectured everyone on how they ought to advance the development of alchemy, but were those words really of any use?

In Albert's view, those old men onstage ought to bear most of the blame for alchemy's decline.

What was the point of droning on and