Stealing a Book

"Do you know why Tesri Academy only has two thousand years of history?" Mr. Victor, as usual, drank a cup of Calming Tea every evening, and this cup of tea was just enough time for him to chat with Donald.

"Isn't two thousand years long enough?"

"There are Knight Academies on the continent with over ten thousand years of history, but primary magic academies like Tesri Magic Academy, which specifically train Magic Apprentices, rarely last more than four thousand years."

"And why is that?"

"Let me ask you another question. Do you know why they're called Magic Apprentices, and why the magic they cast isn't called Level 1 magic? Isn't that strange? A预备骑士 without battle qi isn't considered a knight, so a Magic Apprentice can clearly cast magic—why are they still called apprentices?"

"With the way you're asking, I'm guessing these two questions have the same answer."

"You clever little brat, your guess is right. Three thousand years ago, because of a war, magic incantations were transmitted from the south. Before that, Magic Apprentices had no way to cast magic at all; most of them spent their lives as apprentice workers, just helping Mages draw simple Magic Arrays. Now, with the aid of incantations, apprentices can cast magic, but the name has been preserved."

"I see. Then... Mr. Victor, could you tell me again about the steps for modeling the Six-Element Magic Model? You stopped at step six last time."

"Oh, my god, I'm already annoyed to death by your questions. This must be the thousandth time you've asked me about magic models. I really don't know why you're so interested in these little issues. You should spend more time on our materials science experiments—that's the real creative work." Victor didn't look angry. Saying this, he stood up, found a book on the bookshelf, and tossed it to Donald. "Go read it yourself, and don't ask me these stupid questions anymore."

The book wasn't thick. On the cover was the title Magic Model Introduction and Practice. Donald finally went downstairs, satisfied.

The next day, after waiting nearly another month since sending off the paper, Mr. Victor finally received a reply from the Continental Museum Association.

"Mr. Victor, there's a letter here from the Museum Association. It seems to be about your paper."

The speaker was Miss Tracy, the official assistant assigned to Mr. Victor by the academy. Two years ago, after graduating from the academy, she had been working as Victor's teaching assistant. In just two years, she had already sent out dozens of natural history papers for Mr. Victor, but the replies they received had become increasingly unfriendly in tone.

"Open it for me, please." Mr. Victor said casually. Inside, he wasn't as calm as he appeared; he didn't even want to read the reply himself. Although this was the most carefully written paper he had ever produced, not to mention the amazing experiments he had completed with Donald, after so many setbacks, he had little confidence in what kind of response the "unreasonable" council of the association would give him.

Miss Tracy tore open the envelope and took out the letter. Her pretty face twisted in shock.

"Hmph, this little setback won't stop my relentless pursuit of truth!" Mr. Victor, seeing Tracy's expression, shouted his famous line while imagining the vicious comments those detestable bureaucrats might have come up with this time.

"But..." Miss Tracy hadn't recovered from her shock.

"No buts. These vicious comments are just the slander of the mediocre against wisdom!"

"But the letter is full of praise for you..."

"Stop it. I've never cared about these bureaucrats' comments. My pursuit of truth... What did you just say?"

"Your paper has been published in full. The letter says your paper... the experiments are ingenious, the data is thorough, the reasoning is rigorous... And there's Donald's name on it too..."

Before Miss Tracy could finish, Mr. Victor snatched the letter from her hand.

If his ears hadn't been in the way, Mr. Victor's mouth might have split all the way to the back of his head. These "comments from bureaucrats he never cared about" were giving him unparalleled pleasure.

"...Experiments ingenious, data thorough, reasoning rigorous..." Victor repeated the passage over and over, as if it were a magical incantation.

"You just said that was the slander of the mediocre against wisdom..." Miss Tracy looked a bit confused. If Donald had seen this scene, he would have thought of Mr. Victor's assessment of his official assistant.

Mr. Victor's happy time was soon interrupted. A student knocked and opened the door, hesitantly saying, "A servant was caught stealing books and taken to the Discipline Office. He actually claims to be your assistant..."

"You mean Donald?" Victor stared at the student.

"It seems... that's the name." The student stammered, frightened by his glare.

"The Discipline Office, is it?" Before Mr. Victor had finished speaking, he was already outside.

The Discipline Office was near the faculty office area. By the time Mr. Victor arrived, quite a crowd had gathered at the door.

"Let me in! This is a frame-up, a setup! Donald isn't that kind of person!"

Wesley tried to push through the door but was blocked by a group of students.

"We saw him put the book into his clothes with our own eyes. Caught red-handed."

"Wesley, why are you still defending that despicable commoner? He's been using you..."

"Carl already saw through him long ago. What more is there to say?"

Lucia stood at the edge of the crowd. Just now, in the library, she too had seen Donald stuff the book into his clothes.

Lucia's impression of Donald was strange. This boy was very different from other commoners she had met, not just in appearance, but also in the things he said and the way he threw himself into his work. Since he had taken over the cleaning, the library had become remarkably spotless. That morning, when he faced Carl and the others' provocation, he didn't act like a commoner at all, but like a well-bred noble. He said magic was too expensive, and he said he didn't want to explain. Now that this had happened, could he still not explain? Or would he say he stole the book because magic books were too expensive...

"He's a commoner after all," Lucia thought. She felt ashamed of the curiosity, and even a hint of fondness, she had felt for Donald earlier. "Father was right. I'm still too young to see the ugliness of human nature."

"What's going on here?" Victor shouted loudly. "Where's Donald?"

"Donald is inside. Mr. Edgar tied him up. They framed Donald, saying he stole a book from the library." Wesley was the class representative for Victor's Magic Array course and knew about Donald's relationship with Victor.

The students automatically made way. Victor opened the door to the Discipline Office and saw Donald sitting on the floor against the wall, his hands tied, his thick cotton coat torn open, revealing the cotton padding inside.

Donald gave Victor a bitter smile.

The person in charge of discipline was Mr. Edgar. Normally, he only supervised student conduct and didn't handle matters concerning workers, but since the students had dragged Donald here, he had no choice but to keep an eye on him and wait for an official from the academy's Logistics Office to handle it. Now, instead of the Logistics Office, he saw Professor Victor push the door open and stare coldly at him. He had a bad feeling: could this kid be telling the truth? Was he really Victor's assistant?

Victor's face was frighteningly cold. He picked up the book Magic Model Introduction and Practice from the table in front of Edgar, flipped to the title page, then shoved it in front of Edgar, pointing at a line of text. "Tell me, what does it say here?"

"Victor Bryan... Collection."

"So your damn eyes aren't blind after all!" Victor suddenly exploded.

The fire element in the air instantly grew scorching hot, and Edgar's back was drenched in cold sweat.

(Mr. Victor roared: Those with recommendation tickets, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and throw them to this kid! O(∩_∩)O)