The Magic Academy's Physicist-Chapter 178: Our Work Explodes (2)

“My name is Michel Durand. Please call me Michel!”

“Yes, Mr. Durand.”

Aether drew the line immediately.

Unfazed, Durand continued.

“Are you ladies participating this time?”

“We are.”

“Oho! I look forward to excellent competition from you!”

Aether’s eyes moved quickly.

Green.

From the color of his brooch, he was a third-year.

Showing up at the art fest as a third-year student who had to endure what was called the ‘Death Year’ of practicals, assignments meant that he didn’t care to manage his grades.

This guy must be similar to Angelica, a senior who was so engrossed with their field that they didn’t exactly need the grades.

Anyway.

“Ah, you are....”

Speak of the devil.

A girl with wavy blond hair and a chest too embarrassing to describe in words approached us, latest camera in hand.

Angelica Totzfel, president of the Newspaper Club.

Angelica came over without thinking at first, but soon froze when she saw Aether. The light instantly went out from her eyes.

“Ahh, ahhhh...!”

“Oh dear, my lady. What’s wrong all of a sudden?”

“Wait.... My head, my head hurts...!”

Right.

Aether put her hands together and fell into thought.

Angelica had a past experience of being bashed on the head with the caliper for papping Vermel and Aether.

But it would’ve been bad if word got out that she’d carelessly thrashed her, a member of the Totzfel family as well as a senior, so Aether had literally erased her memories with the help of Vermel.

After that incident, Aether and Angelica never met. Today was the first time since that day.

She understood why Angelica was acting like that.

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

“Uhh, uhhh....”

Angelica took deep breaths and calmed herself down.

“Are you alright, my lady? Would you like me to take you to the infirmary?”

“I-it’s fine. Rather....”

Her headache must have gone away because Angelica glanced at Durand with damp eyes.

“You’re the one who won last time, right?”

“Oh my, you recognize me! This popularity, I tell you....”

“I never thought that a toilet ripped from the Cultural Center’s bathroom exhibited as a work would win!”

Angelica asked with eyes that were half questioning, half intrigue.

“Does this year’s work have a similar theme?”

“No, it’s a bit different.”

“Is it modern art?”

“It’s modern art!”

“Is that so!”

“It is so!”

The two made a great pair. Could spread a rumor that they were going out, even.

Was what Aether was thinking, but she had absolutely no intentions of putting that into action. She wasn’t Angelica, and neither did have the time or reason to do it.

Instead, she smiled with a sigh as she saw Angelica scribble in her notebook.

“If you don’t mind, may I get some information!”

Angelica held out her hand with a wicked smile.

That Durand person was going to have quite a hard time later.

- All festival participants may freely view the works on campus until 5 p.m. when the judges will give their final critiques.

Tilette was the largest school in the Empire.

It took about twenty minutes just to walk the main street going through the entire school. In the early morning or at night, one could see the occasional outsider resting on the benches besides students jogging.

Augh, why is it so crowded?

Rosemary walked with her nose clogged at the stale smell of humans.

She hadn’t seen much of sis because she’d been occupied by the exchange elf students.

She couldn’t even use Scope if there was a high-level Elemental nearby. Lessers or Intermediates were one thing, but if she blatantly attempted to observe a Greater Elemental or higher, she’d be discovered right away.

Hence, there was only one thing that Rosemary could do.

Act human.

She usually thought herself good at acting human, but today she really had to play the part of an ordinary person who didn’t know anything.

There’s elves everywhere!

Trying to find Aether in this place was the equivalent of looking for a ring in the sand. It wasn’t completely inaccurate for Rosemary without her Scope.

“Wow, look at that!”

“It’s a watermill.”

She didn’t know when they had set it up, but there was a watermill at the central fountain.

...The material looks a bit strange.

Upon closer look, it was a watermill made of ground cereals.

Literally a watermill formed out of grain. She didn’t know how they did it, but it was rotating just fine without losing its shape.

“Are you interested in my work?”

A female student approached Rosemary who’d been looking at it wondering what the fuck this was.

“Oh my, if it isn’t Lady Blanton! Hello!”

She liked her manners, though. Rosemary received her greeting, acting awkward.

“I’m Cecil, the head of the Cooking Club. My friends and I entered this piece, and as you can see, many are showing interest so we’ve been receiving overwhelming love.”

“Is that so?”

Rosemary answered mechanically.

I don’t care.

She had to find sis first.

But it wasn’t like she could immediately dismiss the girl in front of her, because it’d impact her reputation negatively if rumors started that the daughter of a Grand Duke was a bitch.

Reputation was the thing to worry about the most in infiltration. Improper reputations made everything more difficult.

“It’s an intriguing thresher.”

“Hehe, isn’t it?”

Afterwards, the girl named Cecil continued the rest of the explanation.

How they’d differentiated themselves using ingredients that weren’t familiar to the public but intuitive, how with the visualization of grain they helped expand the horizon of one’s perspective through reflection when the viewer saw the purpose of the watermill, how it had taken them a month to make it.......

Rosemary was occupied for ten minutes indulging Cecil.

I’m tired.

She looked around at many other works after that, but there was nothing much.

“It’s a mobile with bricks hung on it, expressing that people in modern society live with heavy burdens since they’ve been babies.......”

“It’s a tree made of stone. It visually represents the transition of subjects as well as what an iron hand in a velvet glove means.......”

“This is my transcript from last semester. The title is ‘Boron Trifluoride’.”

She didn’t understand.

Just what in the world was the aesthetic sense of humans?

Rosemary, who’d lived at least hundreds of years, didn’t understand what modern art was at all.

Shaking her head, Rosemary kept walking.

“Where are you, sis....”

She unconsciously flinched when she saw the occasional elf. Not because she was scared of them, but of the fact that she could be discovered and all her past efforts could go down the drain in an instant.

Then suddenly, Rosemary’s feet stopped.

“That’s.......”

Something bizarre caught Rosemary’s eyes.

It was Durand’s piece.

I know that guy.

The person who’d won the thousand gold last year for putting out a toilet they’d taken as an exhibit for the art fest.

He was a human who usually created weird things besides that toilet, yet the Crowpeltz Foundation was preparing to scout him post-graduation saying that he was a student with a deep understanding of modern art.

To be honest, Rosemary thought she’d die from laughter.

Better just keep a straight face.

Snap! She opened up the black-feather fan to hide her twisted mouth. Waving her fan lightly, Rosemary walked towards the crowd where Durand was.

And what the hell is that?

He’d put a map that was double the size of an A1 paper splattered with watercolors on display.

No matter how much she thought about it, a machine like her couldn’t understand the work of the human called Durand. An explanation was needed.

“What paint did you use?”

Rosemary listened to the passerby’s question.

“Ah, most of it used to be bright colors! Hopeful colors that children would’ve liked!”

“But the final result appears rather dark.”

“Isn’t it? Still, the underlying map can be seen faintly so what a relief!”

Durand puffed up and poured out his love for his work.

Rosemary couldn’t stop her cheekbones from lifting.

It’s good that I brought the fan.

Just then.

“This is pretty badass.”

Familiar words, familiar voice.

Rosemary’s head whipped around.

She spotted a pair of golden eyes amongst the crowd. Finding Aether, Rosemary brightened. She waded through the crowd and approached her.

“Sis!”

“Hey, little sis.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Appreciating art.”

The conversation was short. Aether’s eyes had gone to the title of the piece.

[Title : Future]

“I thought he was just a weirdo, but I think I get why he’s a genius.”

“It’s just a map with paint splattered on it.”

To be blunt, Rosemary could’ve drawn something better than that with a few brushstrokes.

“I don’t know what that means exactly.”

“That’s most modern art for you.”

“Do you know about art as well, sis?”

“No?”

As a noble, Rosemary had learned to paint and sculpt, so she had some knowledge about classical art.

In fact, the art of her times had been simple, because art before the introduction of the camera had been a matter of how realistically one drew objects and people.

On the other hand–

She just couldn’t fathom the art that modern humans had started to explore. Their aesthetic standard was a realm of mystery to Rosemary.

If a single dot on a white canvas had great added value, it was a waste of capital and effort. Something that Rosemary couldn’t, and didn’t need to understand.

A realm that machines couldn’t interpret. The humans seemed to call the process of discovering and pursuing that ‘aesthetics’.

Rosemary didn’t understand those aesthetics.

And it was the same for Aether.

It had to be.

If sis was a ‘Beast’ like her.

“Even the title being ‘Future’ says everything. It’s dark to the point of being gloomy, blurry, and unfriendly, like a black fog has fallen.”

Aether nonchalantly gave her impression.

“It would’ve been better if they had titled it ‘Dark Day’.”

“Huh?”

“No?”

“Yes... yes! You’re right! I think you’re right!”

Of course.

It couldn’t be.

With a grin, Rosemary finished viewing the work.

She still couldn’t figure out what that picture was representing.