Chapter 20

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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: The Impossible Proposal
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After Leonhart left, I remained alone, trembling.

The last directive was still floating in the air.

[Step 3: (Confidently) Very well, then I will create the perfect proposal for you. Once you see it, you will surely change your mind.]

“Are you crazy? Who said I’d make a proposal!”

I was sick and tired of assignments. I nearly died from overwork during my senior year of college because of them!

So why do I have to do assignments in a novel? And in five days, no less!

I followed the directive, thinking he’d obviously refuse. I never thought Leonhart would actually accept.

“Hah…”

Leonhart, what in the world were you thinking, agreeing to this? You'll have to meet with me at least once more. Are you sure you're okay with that?

As soon as Leonhart left, Undine appeared and muttered.

- Your habits haven't changed, even if your body has. How strange.

“Huh? What habits do I have?”

- You talk to yourself quite often. And sometimes you just stare into empty space… Well, it was a bit weird at first, but I'm used to it now.

“Ah…”

She was talking about how I acted when the directives appeared.

Undine suddenly clapped her hands.

- Oh, right! Why did you suddenly cough up blood? And why did you pass out! I was so shocked, I almost appeared in front of Leonhart!

“…I don't know. I guess I was just too shocked by Luspell.”

- No way, how weak does a body have to be to cough up blood just from being startled? Don't you have some kind of illness?

If it were an illness, I could at least hope for recovery. But this penalty… I couldn’t escape it until the novel was finished.

“It's not like that. I'm fine now, see?”

- I suppose… but still, is Leonhart out of his mind? What is he doing to someone who's sick? I never knew he was such a rude person!

“Ah, it's fine. If he weren't an Imperial Prince, I would've grabbed him by the collar myself.”

- Just tell him the truth. If Leonhart knew you were Adela, he'd change.

“…I told you, I can't.”

- Whyyy? Because the soul-transfer spell wore off? I know that's a lie, you know.

My mind went blank. My eyes widened as I stared at Undine.

“…W-what are you talking about? I-it's not a l-lie, it's not.”

- Then stop stuttering… Well, fine. I'll wait until you want to confess. Even the closest of lovers have their secrets.

I avoided Undine and lay down on the bed.

“Agh, s-suddenly, I'm so sleepy…”

I was about to pretend to be asleep, but Undine stared intently at me.

- Rian.

“Y-yes? What is it?”

- If you don't want to be found out as Adela, you should probably watch your mouth.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

- You said 'Leona' in your sleep. Leonhart heard everything.

“…What?!”

I shot up in bed.

Now I finally understood Leonhart's true intentions.

“Don't tell me you called in the expedition members to run a background check on me? How utterly creepy.”

“It's troublesome when you pretend to know things you've merely overheard.”

I’d wondered what on earth he meant.

‘He must have misunderstood, thinking I investigated him and was imitating Adela.’

He couldn't stand the thought of some stalker tainting his precious memories.

That's why he accepted my proposal. To publicly screw me over.

No matter how groundbreaking or creative a proposal I created, Leonhart wouldn't even consider adopting it.

He'll reject it, and reject it, and reject it again, tormenting me until the preparations for the statue were complete.

And I'll have to keep making proposals, knowing they're destined for the trash can.

All because of this insane, hack author.

Grrrind. I ground my teeth.

“You… I'm going to crush you.”

***

“The importance of a construction plan is determined by its purpose, in the following order: first, suitability; second, cost-effectiveness; and third, accessibility. For instance, let's assume you're participating in a design competition for a public building.”

The professor lifted only his eyes. His gaze, gleaming from behind his glasses, swept across the students.

“The thoughts of blockheads like you, full of nothing but pretension, are obvious. Whether it's a public building or whatever, you'll base the design on Renaissance or Gothic styles, making it as ornate and impressive-looking as possible. The blueprints will be a goddamn mess, so cluttered you can't even tell what's what.”

The professor's venomous words silenced the lecture hall.

“Do you have any idea how many contestants like that I see when I'm judging competitions? Their designs are all so damn similar. It's so boring I could die. It feels like my eyes are rotting.”

Someone hesitantly raised a hand. The other students' eyes turned to him.

‘Ooh, today's scapegoat has appeared.’

A faint whisper could be heard.

“Um, Professor… are you saying they'd be rejected?”

“What an obvious question. Feasibility aside, they'd already fail on suitability, and they'd be a net negative in terms of cost-effectiveness.”

“The specific reasons are…”

“Are your ears plugged? Do you think I have so much time on my hands that I need to repeat what I just said for your benefit?”

“I-I heard you, but I wanted to understand in a little more detail…”

“Alright, Mr. Rock, listen up. Do you have the confidence to convince a client to accept astronomical construction costs and timelines? How will you find the stonemasons? What's your plan for maintenance costs? You could sell hundreds of yourself and still not cover it. Ah, but since your ears are plugged and your head is filled with unworkable stone, even thousands of you wouldn't be enough.”

“…S-sorry.”

“Just shitting something out on paper isn't enough. Your blueprints are worse than toilet paper. Why? Because they're so cluttered with crap you can't even blow your nose with them. A blank sheet would be better.”

***

That was from the architectural design class I took in my sophomore year.

The professor was famous for his sharp tongue and his lectures were unforgiving, but I learned a lot.

After that, I stopped defaulting to Gothic architecture whenever I conceived a design.

Of course, I still applied it in part.

Architecture students just have a thing for the Gothic style.

“Haaah…”

I sighed, resting my chin on my hand.

This was a world where magic, not science, had developed.

This meant that astronomical construction costs and timelines could be reduced, quite literally, like magic.

It was a world where rebuilding an imperial palace destroyed by magical beasts—in the Gothic style, no less—in just one year was possible.

For an architecture student, it was a dream world.

You could try almost anything you wanted without having to consider realistic limitations.

‘So why haven't I made any progress in two days?’

It wasn't like I was hoping for much.

[Step 3: Adrian began to formulate the perfect proposal.]

Unlike that stupid directive, a ‘perfect proposal’ doesn't exist.

‘Why pour my heart and soul into a proposal that's just going to be thrown away? I'm not an idiot.’

I planned to just cobble something together. As long as it didn't look like complete trash.

But it didn't take long for me to realize something.

That ‘cobbling something together’ is only possible when you have a foundation of knowledge to begin with.

There were too many materials I'd never seen before.

I had no way of knowing what kind of magic was required here for the construction methods I had in mind.

Even when I tried to set all that aside and start with the design, I couldn't draw a single line because I kept wondering if it was even possible.

So I called on the spirits, but…

- Hmmm? A sprinkler? What's this?

- It says right there it's a device that releases water at set intervals, you water-brained idiot.

- …Has this ignorant Salamander lost its mind? Who are you calling a water-brained idiot?

- Are you two going to keep fighting? I believe I just said I would slice your mouths open with a wind cutter.

- Hmph, sorry, Sylph. But why would she want to make this? Can't you just draw water from a nearby lake and spray it?

- Hmm, perhaps because that's difficult, she wants to use a device instead?

- Temperature control using thermal radiation? Fucking hell, are humans fucking useless? They can't even regulate their own temperature?

- You ignorant Salamander, humans can't regulate their body temperature. Honestly, do I have to teach you everything? I think I'll have to advise Rian. She should terminate her contract with the ignorant Salamander as soon as possible.

- …Fuck, hey, you. Let's go. I'll take you on.

- Yes, go fight outside. By the way, Gnome, do you have anything to say?

- …

- You have no thoughts? Yes, I understand.

The spirits' magic was of a completely different nature than human magic, so they were no help at all.

That was the conclusion I'd reached over the course of yesterday.

I was supposed to meet Leonhart in five days, which meant I had three days left.

My only option now was to figure out how buildings were constructed here by going through blueprints and proposals one by one.

I slumped over and rubbed my face against the desk.

‘Haaah, I really don't want to do this…’

Just then, the four useless spirits vanished all at once.

The moment I straightened my back, I heard someone approaching.

Knock, knock—

“Come in.”

The library door opened, and the butler entered, carrying an armful of something and pulling a clattering trolley behind him.

“My lady, these are the construction proposals held by the family.”

Thump.

A pile of documents landed on the wide, wooden desk.

“…That's a lot.”

“The family has a long history, so it's only natural there would be many.”

“You didn't need to bring all of them, did you?”

“Which is why I only brought the last five years' worth.”

I see…