Young People

When Elizabeth returned to Professor Armitage's office, Hope had already left.

But Nancy was still talking to Professor Armitage about him.

"Have you finally seen him?" Professor Armitage asked.

Nancy nodded. "However... he wasn't as interesting as I imagined. He seemed like the kind of person who could sit in the philosophy section all day."

"No, he can't sit still for a whole day, and he wouldn't like philosophy books. But I understand what you mean, he certainly doesn't seem like the type to drink, but that's not a flaw."

"His name is Love?" Nancy asked.

"You can just call him Love," Professor Armitage replied.

Elizabeth stood beside them, listening to their conversation, and only asked when their small talk came to an end:

"Love was here just now?"

Nancy and Professor Armitage looked up at Elizabeth.

"Yes, he came," Professor Armitage replied.

Eliza glanced at the two men, sensing that their attitude towards her was somewhat strange.

"Professor, do you know him?"

"We only met yesterday, but Professor Morgan speaks highly of him," Professor Armitage said.

"Outside of universities, there are many young people with good knowledge. I have a few young pen pals myself, and I'm also willing to get to know other young people."

"There are always some people who stand out no matter the circumstances," Elizabeth said. "Do you know his name?"

Professor Armitage shook his head, but he didn't say he didn't know, "He doesn't really like being called by his name."

"His name is Hope, right? Hope Love."

Professor Armitage looked at Elizabeth with some surprise:

"It seems you know him; you know him better than I thought. Yes, that is indeed his name."

Elizabeth felt uneasy. Professor Armitage's tone was strange; he was as gentle as usual, but it sounded like he was talking to a stranger.

She shook her head. It was probably just her imagination.

She instinctively reached for her small pocket watch again, but to no avail.

"Do you know where he went?" she asked. "My pocket watch seems to be with him."

"He just left; he should be on the third floor now, Professor Rice's open lecture on herbalism."

Elizabeth knew Professor Rice, who was a professor of ancient languages but also held a master's degree in pharmacy from the university.

After Elizabeth left, Professor Armitage and Nancy exchanged a glance.

"Do you know her, Professor?" Nancy asked.

"He's probably just a student who's very interested in Love," Professor Armitage said with a smile.

"Isn't everyone very interested in him, especially you girls? He's handsome, isn't he?"

The professor shook his head:

"In some people's eyes, illness brings suffering. But students like you haven't seen much suffering yet, so when you look at Love, you see more of his uniqueness."

Isn't it a good thing to never have experienced hardship?

"Of course it's a good thing; it shows that society, schools, and families are doing a good job. As a teacher, I am very proud of this."

Professor Armitage said:

"However, when that girl came in just now, I felt strangely at ease, as if she came here often."

"You're too lenient with too many students," Nancy said.

She picked up the envelope in front of Professor Armitage; the sender's name was written on it in messy handwriting.

Wilbur

"Was this written by that tall, hairy gentleman?" Nancy asked.

"Hmm, Wilbur." Professor Armitage nodded.

"Yes, you've already met him before. He's one of my younger pen pals... But to be honest, although people always say you can't judge a book by its cover, after meeting him, his appearance did make me a little uncomfortable."

"But he's an interesting person," Nancy said.

Professor Armitage was somewhat surprised:

"Really? But I don't think he drinks either. He's an even more serious person Love."

But he is indeed very interesting.

"Hmm... maybe. After all, I'm over seventy years old, and my way of judging people is a bit different from yours, young people."

"What did he write in the letter?" Nancy asked.

"It was just a casual chat, like usual. He would discuss some folk customs with me; although he's still young, he's an expert in this field."

Professor Armitage said:

"He's also a fan of the occult and wants to borrow a book from the library, the Necronomicon."

"That's a cool name."

"But the content isn't cool at all; it's a collection of poems written in Arabic, compiled by the Arabic madman Abdul Al-Hazlade, and translated into Rabbi by Olos Wormius. Most of the poems are disorganized. Professor Hawkins tried to decipher them, but ultimately said they might have some mystical value, but lacked literary merit."

Nancy ruffled her hair. "That really big book?"

"Yes, you've seen it. The headmaster thought it might be a little strange, so he locked it up."

"Would you lend the book to Wilbur?"

"Of course not, I already said, that thing is locked. It's impossible to lend it out."

So he can't read?

Professor Armitage shook his head. "Yes, but Wilbur must come here and study here."

By the time Hope arrived at Professor Rice's open class, the lesson had already been going on for a while.

Although he had only come to ask a question, Hope certainly couldn't interrupt the lesson. So he decided to listen patiently for a while.

The title of this lesson is: General Pharmaceutical Preparation.

Compared to Professor Morgan's Common Herbs, this class was perhaps a bit more complex, so fewer students attended.

Some of the students recognized Hope and waved enthusiastically at Hope, causing a minor disturbance in the classroom.

Knowing he had disrupted the class and was powerless to make amends, Hope could only smile apologetically at Professor Rice.

Professor Rice was a middle-aged man. His exposed skin showed well-defined muscles, but his body under his clothes was plump and round. He had a thick beard and his iron-gray hair was somewhat balding.

Agility: 1.01, Constitution: 1.49, Vision: 1.01, Mana: 0

Hope felt reassured by the seemingly normal attribute values.

Professor Rice was preparing some kind of medicine. He nodded to Hope, which was a nod of approval for Hope's request to audit the class.

Among the students in the audience, there was one sitting in the back row, waving his hand particularly enthusiastically.

Hope couldn't see who he was, but she couldn't refuse his hospitality, and since there was an empty seat, she went over.

It's Jeffrey Miller.

This guy had a bright smile and exuded confidence and composure.

They completely forgot who was responsible for Hope's high profile at Miskatonic University.

"I knew you'd come." Jeffrey chatted with Hope, enthusiastically introducing him to Hope.

"Professor Rice is currently talking about simple herbal stimulants, but although they're called herbs, I feel the alcohol is more effective."

He really wanted to chat with Hope, but fearing Hope wouldn't respond, he added:

What do you think?

Hope looked at him, ignoring what he was saying, "Is your position as deputy editor-in-chief of the Press Club secure?"

Jeffrey's smile suddenly became somewhat awkward.