Chapter 7: Laying the Foundation (3)

The laboratory was such a mess that even calling it chaotic would be an understatement. The air was thick with the pungent smell of unknown reagents and alchemy tools, assaulting my senses.

“Do you know what a soul stigmata is?” Professor Bastion asked, slouched in what could barely be called a chair, more like a decayed lump of moldy leather.

I glanced around the room in search of a place to sit, but quickly gave up and answered instead, “A favor bestowed by the Seven Gods, isn’t it?”

“A favor, you say.” Professor Bastion shook with laughter as if he found something amusing. “Then what about a blessing?”

“It’s a special ability that manifests in only a rare few who have awakened their soul stigmata.”

“And what do you think is the most defining characteristic of a blessing?”

The most defining characteristic of a blessing… I thought about it. This wasn’t a difficult question. After all, it was something humanity had come to understand over the course of hundreds, no, perhaps even thousands of years.

“Once it manifests, nothing can make it disappear,” I replied.

“Oh?” Professor Bastion’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “That’s an interesting answer.”

“In what way?”

“If you were to ask most people what the defining characteristic of a blessing is, they would say uniqueness. Unlike a soul stigmata, a blessing manifests differently in each individual,” he explained.

For a moment, I found myself at a loss for words. Well, he wasn’t wrong. If an average person were asked this question, they would probably highlight a blessing’s uniqueness above all else. After all, not many people would be desperate enough to try to erase a power they had barely managed to obtain.

“In any case, you’re right. Once a blessing manifests, it never changes or disappears,” Professor Bastion added, in a low, measured voice, with his arms crossed.

Where has the crazed man gone, the one I first met, who laughed so hysterically he practically drooled? This isn’t like him at all, I wondered.

I remembered the professor being eccentric, bizarre, and a man with at least one screw loose. So, when he suddenly acted so composed, I found it odd.

“Now, let’s get back to the topic of soul stigmatas.” He tapped his wrinkled fingers against the left side of his chest. “On average, a person awakens their soul stigmata around the age of ten. Some as early as three, others as late as eighteen.”

That much was common knowledge.

He continued, “The specific soul stigmata one awakens to varies, but in most cases, children inherit the same soul stigmata as their parents.”

“That’s something they teach in first-year general education classes, Professor,” I replied.

Even the worst cadets know that. So why is he explaining such basic information in such excruciating detail? I thought.

“The hereditary nature of soul stigmatas… the fact that they appear within a specific age range… and that once manifested, they never disappear. Doesn’t that remind you of something?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I’m not sure. I can’t say it does.”

It prompted Professor Bastion to speak with a deadly serious expression, “Hair loss.”

Huh?

“In other words, by logical extension, every hero who has awakened a soul stigmata is experiencing something akin to hair loss,” he explained.

“No, wait a minute…”

What the hell is this lunatic talking about? I thought.

“What? You don’t think it’s an apt comparison?” Professor Bastion asked.

“I don’t know if it’s accurate, but if someone from the Holy Empire heard that, you’d probably get beaten to a pulp,” I replied.

If I told Iris what Professor Bastion had just said, she would likely flash a sweet smile before slamming a Holy Scripture onto his skull.

“Oh, is that so?” Professor Bastion shrugged and continued, “Well, since I’m still alive and well right now, I suppose that means you’re not from the Holy Empire.”

His gaze met mine, steady and knowing, and he continued, “You’re not from the Empire, either, where faith in the Seven Star Church runs deep.”

That left only one possibility. A nation founded about five hundred years ago, during the Demon God War, by outsiders from another world. A country where belief in the Seven Star Church was weaker compared to that in other regions and where, at least on the surface, freedom was the highest ideal.

“You’re from the Republic, aren’t you?” he asked.

So, he said that ridiculous nonsense earlier just to figure out where I am from? I thought.

“You could have just asked me directly,” I replied.

“Words are deceptive, after all.”

This was the eccentric Professor Bastion I remembered.

“By the way, what would you have done if I had been from the Holy Empire?” I asked.

“I would’ve kicked you out immediately. I have no interest in dealing with those zealots.”

Well, that makes sense, I thought. From the perspective of someone from the Holy Empire, a nation that worshipped the Seven Gods, Professor Bastion’s research on artificially altering soul stigmata was nothing short of blasphemy.

I remember hearing rumors that the Holy Empire pressures the academy every year to shut down all research on soul stigmata.

Looking at the sorry state of this laboratory, I doubted those rumors were baseless. Yet despite the relentless pressure on him, Professor Bastion had never been expelled from the academy.

Why? The reason was simple. He was a direct descendant of Julius Bastion, the legendary hero known as the Great Sage and one of the Great Five Heroes who had sealed away the Demon God in ages past.

“So, you want to join my research on potions that can influence the soul stigmata?” Professor Bastion asked.

“Yes.”

“Sorry, but that won’t be possible.”

“Is it because I’m from the Warrior Division? If that’s the issue, you don’t have to worry—”

“No, that’s not the reason,” he said.

“Then. Why is it not possible?”

“The answer is simple.” A mischievous grin spread across Professor Bastion’s face. “Because I don’t have enough research funds.”

I let out a deep sigh as I glanced around the laboratory, which was barely distinguishable from a haunted house. So, that’s the problem. With the state of this place, I guess it indeed doesn’t seem like there’s any funding at all.

Still, to think that the descendant of the Great Sage had fallen so low that he couldn’t even afford research funds.

This was a problem. I couldn’t help him with this either. I didn’t have a single penny to my name. As an orphaned cadet with no family, how could I possibly have money? The only reason I was able to attend this academy was a scholarship from the Republic.

“How much funding would you need?” I still asked.

“Hmm! It depends on what I’m researching, but at the very least, about a million gold.”

His words left me speechless. Converted into the Republic’s old currency, a million gold would be around a billion won, an astronomical amount.

I never imagined my plan would hit a roadblock because of something like this. God damn it! I could just give up on the Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion.

However, that wasn’t the real problem. Professor Bastion’s true value didn’t lie in just inventing the Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion.

Befitting his status as the Great Sage’s descendant, he possessed unparalleled intellect, razor-sharp insight, and a level of innovation that others couldn’t even dream of replicating.

Granted, this guy’s a bit unhinged for reasons I don’t quite understand. I thought.

Knowing what he would eventually create in the future, I got frustrated at the current situation. If things keep going this way, it’ll happen again.

In my past life, Professor Bastion had successfully developed the Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion, which turned the tide of the war against the demons. Yet, shortly after securing victory, he took his own life. No one knew the exact reason for his suicide. If being stuck in this dumpster of a lab, unable to conduct research due to lack of funding, had been one of the reasons, then humanity would once again lose the descendant of the Great Sage in vain.

I couldn’t lose any of them: neither the Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion nor Professor Bastion.

“I’ll find a way to secure the research funds,” I said.

“Hahaha! And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” I said, then turned and stepped out of the laboratory.

The moment I exited, sunlight bathed my face. After being cooped up in that dreary laboratory, it felt like stepping out of an underground cave into the warmth of day.

How the hell am I supposed to come up with a million gold… Well, there are ways,

I thought.

However, none of them were options that a mere cadet could easily pursue, and I couldn’t just drop out of the academy to make money, either.

If I didn’t graduate, I wouldn’t receive an official Hero License, which meant that whether it was hunting demonic monsters for mana stones or taking down demons for bounties, I’d be forced to operate through illegal channels.

Dropping out was not an option. More than anything, my former comrades were here at the academy. For the sake of reuniting with them, leaving wasn’t an option.

“Ugh.” Lost in thought, I made my way back toward the dormitory. That was when I heard a voice coming from the distance.

“Hey, Doormat! Where are you headed?”

“Doormat” was a nickname I had earned for consistently placing dead last in the academy’s rankings every semester.

I turned my head toward the voice that I was familiar with. A blond male student grinned at me from afar, flanked by three female students, who stood huddled together behind him.

Who the hell is this guy again? I couldn’t remember.

“Tch. You bastard, when someone calls you, you should come running. What the hell are you just standing there for?” The blond scoffed, beckoning me over with an impatient wave.

The way he carried himself in such a cocky manner suddenly triggered an old memory. “Ah, right. I remember now.”

He was Jules Kang, a fellow cadet from the Republic who had frequently gone out of his way to harass me. Since I never had any reason to cross paths with him after graduation in my previous life, I had completely forgotten he existed.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected encounter. I didn’t expect to run into this bastard again.

“Hey. Why the hell are you grinning? Get over here already. What, you wanna die?” Jules said.

The moment Jules made a casual remark, the girls behind him shrieked in admiration.

“Senior Jules, isn’t he that guy who’s always dead last in the overall rankings?”

“Isn’t he an orphan, too? Ugh, this is exactly what’s wrong with this academy. Just because someone has a soul stigmata, they let in all kinds of trash.”

“I think only people with a proper background, like Senior Jules, should be allowed to enroll in the academy!”

I let out a sigh and shook my head at these comments. I had neither the time nor the patience to deal with these idiots. Getting my hands on that one million gold as soon as possible was what I needed to do.

“Look at this bastard. He thinks he’s hot stuff just because he got lucky and won a single non-magic duel, huh?” Jules sneered, his expression turning hostile as he approached me. “Oh right, there’s a rumor going around that you’ve been hovering around the Saintess. Tsk, tsk. Know your place, Doormat! Though, I can’t really blame you.”

Jules suddenly lowered his voice, making sure the girls behind him wouldn’t hear. Then, with a sleazy grin, he leaned in and muttered, “Our dear Saintess’s blessed pouches are… Well, let’s just say they’re quite the size, huh? No man could just walk past that and not feel something.”

He let out a disgusting laugh, cupping his hands in front of his chest, mimicking an obscene gesture.

I stopped walking and froze in place.

“Oh? Look at you. You’re pissed? Whoa, I’m shaking. Why are you acting like this between friends? What now? Going to throw a punch?” Jules mockingly shivered in fear, his lips curled into a taunting smirk.

At that moment, a forgotten memory suddenly resurfaced in my mind, and I smiled back at him. If I’m right, isn’t Jules Kang’s family one of the top five wealthiest conglomerates in the Republic?

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