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Now reading: Chapter 89 from How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family, a Drama novel by Hegong깅깅.

Given the urgency, the students nodded solemnly, ready to follow instructions without hesitation.

I stepped forward and began issuing clear directions.

“From the epidermis to the subcutaneous layer, rember the 2:5:3 ratio and apply stabilization magic for each layer. Got it?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Start with the epidermis. Mix tissue replication potion and induction agent at a 9:1 ratio, then add an equal amount of Alimonium base.”

“Wait, wait!”

“Stir it while heating before it fully replicates. For the second layer, use a 7:3 ratio, sa base, and rember that the potion for the dermis needs to be 50% of the total—calculate carefully.”

As the number of beakers grew, Narce took charge of heating the mixtures.

“For the last layer, go with a 3:7 ratio. Once done, rember to add an accelerator—it needs to work in 60 seconds.”

“How much do we add to speed it up?”

The exact amount depended on context, but since this was a high school-level problem, the school-taught thod would suffice.

“Add 0.1% of the total potion to accelerate by about 10% per incrent. But if you exceed 5% of the base, you’ll get the sa side effects Leo showed earlier. Calculate carefully.”

The students, now focused and coordinated, worked with rapid precision.

‘They’ve completely steadied themselves.’

From earlier panic over basic calculations to this sharp turnaround, they were living up to the reputation of Imperial Second Academy students.

They proved themselves capable, even under pressure.

Ding, ding, ding—

“Ti’s up, but finish combining everything,” Leo instructed as he stopped the stopwatch.

The students followed through, using stabilization magic to rge the potions into a single vial.

“All done!”

They handed the completed potion to Leo, who pierced a synthetic skin sample and poured the concoction over the wound.

Though slower than Leo’s earlier demonstration, the bleeding gradually stopped, and the tissue began to regenerate.

“…Whoa!”

“It’s working!”

The skin layers filled in slowly but surely.

While my guidance had helped, the students’ satisfaction in their own work was evident in their reactions.

“…There’s no excess tissue forming, right?”

“Yeah, it’s stopped!”

The fully restored skin confird their calculations were correct.

Though morizing the potion layers and their ratios was vital, accuracy in calculations was key.

Recovering quickly from panic and handling the math correctly showed that these students weren’t exaggerating when they claid to be good at calculations.

‘Not bad for a first attempt.’

If I focused on recipe instructions, they could handle the calculations, leaving problem-solving to Leo and Narce. The division of labor was shaping up well.

Satisfied, I glanced at the two Class 1 students. Their gaze was fixed on , as if they had sothing to say.

“…What?”

***

“All right, last step: five drops of consecrated lemon juice. The ntal interference potion needs its effects reduced, so…”

“Dilution!”

“Exactly. Ten percent dilution.”

We spent the entire day in the lab.

Just as I’d planned to use the Class 1 students as calculators, they began treating like a recipe dispenser.

Every ti I dictated a formula, they absorbed it and repeated it back flawlessly. anwhile, Leo handed a pile of five years’ worth of past competition questions, all the way to the finals.

‘They really think I can just spit out answers without effort….’

Reading and dictating recipes nonstop drained my energy.

“I’m going to grab sothing to eat. Anyone want anything?”

“What? I’ll go instead!” one of the Class 1 students exclaid, standing up in a huff.

“The brains of the team stay seated. Fetching snacks is grunt work.”

“……”

“Why lump in? You’re the only grunt here.”

“Exactly. So it’s grunt work.”

They seed to be having fun.

Ignoring their banter, I stepped out, hoping to clear my head as much as to grab food.

Despite the ntal strain, I couldn’t complain. My job required far less physical effort than theirs.

Leo, though more familiar with potions than the rest of us, wasn’t as adept as the students from specialized schools. morization was crucial for all of us.

We worked through the night, returning to the dormitory just before dawn.

“Lucas, you’re the team’s MVP!”

One of the Class 1 students clasped their hands together dramatically before heading to their room.

‘When did we get this close?’

Still, these were the sa students who’d spent a sester together in the special class. There wasn’t much distance between us.

‘Forget Pleroma or any rumors for now—practical results matter more.’

Just then, Leo walked in carrying a bundle.

“…What’s that?”

“Bouquets. The juniors ca to cheer us on.”

He set another basket of letters on my desk.

“Here’s today’s batch of mail.”

“Thanks. They’re still coming in, huh?”

The bundle of letters rustled, and a familiar creature popped its head out.

“Lucas!”

“What the—?!”

Leo stared at Pai in disbelief.

Remarkably, despite looking like a rodent, Pai hadn’t shredded any of the mail.

“Narce’s asleep~”

―“So?”

“Play with !”

―“No. I’ll be up for another hour or two, so stay here if you want.”

“Okay!”

I settled into my bed, reading through the letters one by one.

About three letters in, I reached for another and felt sothing familiar: an unusually thick envelope.

“Oh.”

“What’s up?”

Wordlessly, I held up the hefty letter.

Leo whistled, then buried his face in a potion manual.

[To the esteed Sir Nicolaus Ernst,]

‘Changed from “respected” to “esteed.”’

Less formal, but sohow more unnerving.

I opened the letter and read the first sentence.

[I knew you’d understand ! I’m so happy, Sir Ernst. Clearly, our souls are connected on a higher plane—united against our mutual enemy, Pleroma. When can we et in person?]

“…What the hell is this?”

Scratch the less formal—it’s just as weird as before.

Dropping the letter on Leo’s desk, I used magic to change my hair and eye color.

Leo, puzzled, read the letter and asked incredulously, “Lucas, did you reply to this person?”

“Nope. Looks weird to you too, huh?”

“Obviously. What did you do to make them think you’d understand them?”

“No idea.”

I flipped the envelope over to check the na.

‘Robert Mueller.’

A common na, with a common surna.

Taking the envelope, I warped to the Crown Prince’s palace and knocked on the secretary’s office door.

“Co in.”

“Good day. I have a question.”

“Ah, Sir Nicolaus! A pleasure to see you.”

The head secretary greeted warmly, rising from his chair.

“Could I review the list of incoming mail from the past week?”

“Of course.”

He retrieved a thick ledger from a shelf and handed it to .

“Thank you.”

“Take your ti.”

I opened the book, ran my wand over the pages, and whispered:

“Seek, and you shall find.”

“Robert Mueller.”

Several entries glowed faintly.

‘Four letters in one week.’

Not extre, but unusual.

The content was odd, but nothing overtly malicious.

“Could I also see the list of outgoing mail from the secretary’s office?”

“Ah, that’s a bit sensitive. Is there an issue?”

“I’ve been receiving peculiar letters. I wanted to check if the office responded to them.”

“We do send standard replies. You’re welco to review those records in this case.”

After reviewing the responses—simple acknowledgnt letters—I found nothing alarming.

‘Could they really think a generic reply ant I understood them?’

While eccentric individuals were inevitable, it was better to address potential issues early.

‘I need to check if anyone’s been sending replies on their own.’

I headed directly to the Royal Investigation Bureau.

***

[The 64-team round of the Bavarian Magical Potion Experintation Tournant will now begin.]

‘I was expecting soone to say this was a waste of ti, but the Bureau took my request surprisingly seriously.’

Thanks to the letter sent to Leo’s office that morning, the investigation progressed quickly, allowing to focus fully on the competition.

“Huff… huff…”

“Sir, are you okay?”

The mbers of our team muttered weakly in the hallway outside the exam venue, drained from the buildup of nerves.

I turned to Narce, who looked uncharacteristically calm.

“You’re not nervous?”

“Huh? Nope. Why would I be? We have your mory, so there’s nothing to worry about!”

“…Did you use your ability again?”

“Nope. I try to avoid it before major events. If I know the outco in advance, I might slack off, and that could change the future. It’s better to trust the team!”

It was a sound argunt.

Thinking back, Narce always used his foresight ability casually for trivial things. When it ca to significant monts, he seed to rely on it selectively.

I nodded and glanced out the window.

The exam hall was massive—essentially a stadium.

With an audience of 10,000, spectators filled every corner.

The announcents introducing teams from other schools droned on, and eventually, it was our turn.

[Team 52, representing the 2nd Year Students of the Imperial Second Academy, Prussia.]

“Woooo!”

“Good luck out there, Lucas.”

The Class 1 students, now visibly steeled for the challenge, patted my shoulder with solemn expressions.

Once the safety protocols were explained, silencing magic was cast over each table, and the official announcent rang out.

[The first experintal topic is ntal Interference Potions.]

“Yes!”

“Wait, isn’t that what we practiced yesterday? Lemon juice!”

The students clapped their hands in excitent, and I nodded.

It was one of the topics we had drilled extensively. With over 50 potion types practiced the day before, the odds of one appearing were high.

Knowing the topic boosted morale, and the team radiated confidence.

[Begin.]

Thirty Minutes Later

The first round ended, and the announcent filled the hall.

[This concludes the 64-team round. We will now announce the teams advancing to the 32-team round.]

Magical letters appeared in the air, rapidly forming team numbers and nas.

“…!”

“Aww…”

“Yessss!”

Cheers and groans echoed as team nas were marked. Teams that failed had their nas crossed out with a red line, while successful teams saw their nas linked to the next round.

The numbers ticked upward—46, 47, 48…

Finally, Team 52 appeared, with a bright line connecting it to the next stage.

“Woooooo!”

A Class 1 student practically scread, slapping my shoulder with such force it stung.

“Lucas, it’s all thanks to you! Without you, we’d have been toast!”

The energy froze.

Suddenly, heads turned toward us, the gazes cold and heavy.

Clearly, people were thinking, ‘What was that supposed to an?’

Fortunately, the cheers for the next successful team quickly drowned out the tension.

Realizing the awkwardness, the student glanced around nervously and whispered to the group, “Did I… ss up? I feel like I wasn’t supposed to say that. Was it because of Lucas’s reputation?”

“Probably. Thanks for that,” I replied dryly.

Leo, anwhile, turned from the match brackets with a complicated expression.

“Guys, our next opponent is the Saxen-iningen Magical dicine Academy.”

“…A magical dicine school?”

Of the 32 remaining teams, 25 were from specialized magical dicine schools.

From here on, we’d mostly be up against specialists. The real challenge began with the 32-team round.

[The 32-team round will begin in 40 minutes. Please rest freely and return to your seats by 12:40.]

Another Round Later

“Uggghhhhhh!”

“Wow, we made it!”

Narce clapped as our team’s na appeared on the 16-team bracket. Despite our worries, we had advanced to the round of 16.

‘Just one more match.’

I didn’t care about advancing further—winning this round would complete my goal.

[The 16-team round will begin in 20 minutes. Please rest freely and return by 1:40.]

“Only 20 minutes? We could hit the café and make it back in ti if we run. Want us to grab you anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Alright, we’ll be quick!”

The two Class 1 students dashed off, disappearing out the door.

As I watched them leave, I stood and announced, “I’m going to our lab for a bit. I want to review so recipes before the next round.”

“Okay, don’t take too long,” Leo replied, waving off.

The lab was attached to the gymnasium, a short 10-minute walk away. It was common for students to visit during breaks.

The hall was emptier now, with only 16 teams remaining. When I reached our lab, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Rustle.

A faint noise ca from behind .

Bang! Clunk!

“What?!”

The door slamd shut with a gust of wind.

‘This feels wrong.’

I imdiately turned back and grabbed the handle.

Clunk, clunk—

It wouldn’t budge.

I pushed harder, but the door refused to move.

‘Fifteen minutes left until we need to be seated, and I’m locked in?’

I tried the front door but found it similarly locked.

“Hello? Anyone out there?!”

Pounding on the door brought no response. The hall outside was eerily silent, as if deserted.

‘Who did this?’

With so many enemies, narrowing it down was impossible. It could be any team we’d defeated—or soone with a personal grudge against .

Even Adrian couldn’t be ruled out.

‘No, too many suspects. Focus on getting out first.’

Clunk, bang!

The heavy wooden door didn’t yield to brute force.

‘Breaking it with magic or warping is my only option.’

Warping violated competition rules and could lead to disqualification. Even if I managed to avoid detection, one glaring issue remained:

‘How would I explain getting out without opening the door?’

If soone was watching, claiming soone had let out wouldn’t hold water. Worse, escaping this way would prevent from reporting the incident and identifying the culprit.

‘Think calmly.’

I needed a non-magical way to escape.

Eyeing the room, I noticed the usual lab features: storage cabinets, ergency showers, and a safety hamr for breaking glass.

‘Modern design, huh?’

My eyes trailed upward, locking onto sothing promising.

‘Found it.’

A way out.

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