"Teacher, it’s wonderful that you’re here! Is this idea actually possible?"
’If I were an expert in a jack-of-all-trades field like automation, would I have even ended up transmigrating?’ In his past life, Rorschach had only scratched the surface. Looking at the few functions Andre had organized, he felt a headache coming on.
’Oh, Andre. Do you have any idea how many people failed a class called "Chemical Instruntation and Automation" in my past life? If you beco the forefather of this field, you’d better be ready for future students to curse your na in their little circles!’
"In the Alchemy Departnt, they’d definitely use a Tower Spirit to handle such simple sequential controls." ’Tower Spirits are amazing things. Artificial... intelligent...’ Rorschach thought. ’I have to get my hands on one, no matter what.’
"But there are other thods. For instance, using compressed gas to control valves is cheaper and more easily replicated than relying on a Magic Circuit." Rorschach briefly explained the basic principles of automatic control. "A control system has four fundantal parts: the object being controlled, the sensor, the controller, and the actuator. Its core principle is called ’feedback’..."
After explaining at length, Rorschach finally asked Andre, "Did you get all that?"
"I think... I got it."
’Yes, yes, that’s the exact expression!’ Rorschach nodded in satisfaction, inwardly vowing to figure out how Tower Spirits were made. He’d even buy one if he had to; he had no desire to suffer through the sa subject twice.
They had lunch at a restaurant next to the factory. The house specialties were pork knuckle, Sausage, and potatoes—perfect fare for the factory’s manual laborers, who had plenty of cash and a powerful need for calories. The entire hall was filled with the aroma of grease and beer, and, of course, beverages from the Fanta Company.
"Sorry," Rorschach said as he and Andre sat across from each other. "You should be eating with your parents." Like the other salaried custors, they ate their main course and side dishes off wooden platters and drank thick soup from earthenware bowls.
"It’s no problem. Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you," Andre said happily. Rorschach asked how Andre had been, then said bluntly, "How did you end up working for that Bart fellow? He’s a third-rate hack. What could he possibly teach you?"
Andre said, embarrassed, "Well, I want to advance to an Official Mage. Besides passing the Guild’s assessnt and registration, I heard the Empire requires a sponsor who is also an Official Mage to register as an official Caster."
"And now you have , don’t you?" Rorschach told Andre to rest assured. "I might be modest when comparing myself to others, but compared to Mage Bart? I’m so far above him it’s not even a contest."
News of Rorschach’s return eventually reached Mr. Hasse, who promptly called an ergency eting. He had Rorschach take the head seat while he, the nominal boss, humbly sat to one side.
Rorschach first listened to their reports. During his absence, the beverage business had seen steady growth. They had virtually no competitors within the Empire; the main bottleneck was their distribution capability.
"What about the canned goods?" Rorschach knew that supplying the entire Bayern region was already the limit for a single factory. Any further, and the supply chain costs and shipping damages would beco unreasonable. He was more focused on the new product line.
"We’ve made trial runs of canned oranges and canned beef. They preserve just fine, but the cost is too high. Who could possibly afford them?" Right now, they were just soaking fruit in sugar water and other foods in brine to ensure they kept, with no regard for the taste. The only ones willing to try them were wealthy city residents. The canned fruit was acceptable, but after spending a fortune on the canned at, so people declared they’d been swindled. So even called it "canned zombie flesh."
"Try packing it in oil instead of water, and add so spices." As he flipped through the docunts, Rorschach frowned. "Why haven’t there been any white sugar deliveries in the past few days?"
Hasse looked troubled. "You’ve just brought up the most serious problem our company is currently facing! We’ve been importing sugar from Istani. Their foreign sugar is cheap and high-quality..."
"Alright, that’s enough," Rorschach said, trying to cut him off imdiately.
But Hasse felt he needed to explain the difficulties to his boss. "I heard there was a horrifying earthquake in Istani recently. The trading hubs for bulk commodities like white sugar were forced to close, and all sugar exports have been cut off."
"We have a three-pronged strategy: In the short term, we’re buying up dostic sugar reserves. In the mid term, we’re in direct contact with our suppliers in Istani to see if they can resu shipnts and honor our contracts. And for the long term, we’re preparing to look for alternative sugar crops within the Empire."
Hasse suddenly rembered sothing. "In your last letter, you ntioned you were going to Istani. Do you know what happened in Storm City? I heard... that an Evil Mage perford so kind of large-scale Magic there."
’Just because I did it doesn’t an I know the details,’ Rorschach thought. ’I wrecked so many buildings, how the hell was I supposed to know which one was the commodity exchange? I have no idea. Truly.’ With a solemn expression, he corrected Mr. Hasse, "It was the work of the Return of the Holy Mother Sect."
"How dreadful. No wonder the Empire has been tightening its security lately. You could tell these sect mbers weren’t right in the head when they dared to attack the Imperial Palace and the Empire Council. Now they’ve gone and attacked an entire nation’s capital. They’re complete and utter madn." Hasse shook his head, clucking his tongue.
The "complete and utter madman" struggled to control his expression as he stood next to Mr. Hasse and began to lay out his plans. He was going to build his own Mage Tower and would need a massive amount of capital—the sky was the limit.
"No problem. The company has more than enough cash on hand, and you still have a huge sum of untouched dividends and salary."
Mr. Hasse was delighted. Although Rorschach had said he would be staying in the Bayern Kingdom for good, he showed no intention of kicking Hasse out of the general manager’s seat to run things himself. Hasse couldn’t help but chide himself. ’Why would a distinguished Mage be interested in such worldly affairs? I was getting ahead of myself.’
Also in attendance and reporting to Mage Rorschach were:
Aunt Jenfni, head of the glass factory; Apprentice Andre, head of the research departnt; the head of the security departnt...
Rorschach comnded everyone for their work and provided important directives for the company’s future developnt. This eting was a conference of unity, a conference of victory...
’Isn’t this a bit too much pointless formality...’ Rorschach thought, secretly using a [Spell Hand] to rub his numb rear. Andre had already left to reunite with his family. Now accompanied by Hasse, the general manager had arranged a place for him to stay.
Everything in Lansite was new. The original small town was now enveloped by newly constructed buildings. Rorschach was led to a small villa with gardens in both the front and back—it was Hasse’s personal property.
"I’ve arranged for you a butler, a coachman, a cook, a scullery maid, and two housemaids. Will you require a personal valet or a lady’s maid to attend to your needs?"
"I don’t need any of them."
"Very well, no personal attendants then..."
"No, I an I don’t need *any* servants. Thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Hasse. I’m only here temporarily, and besides, I’m used to being alone..." Under the dim, yellowing sky, Rorschach’s expression grew increasingly grim.
This frightened Hasse. "My apologies! I didn’t take a master mage’s habits into consideration. Please, get so rest..."
CLICK. The door shut. With a wave of his hand, Rorschach enveloped the entire villa in a barrier. The curtains all drew themselves shut, stirred by no wind.
Large beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and he clenched his jaw tightly.
The old mage’s mories, along with the other junk from those souls, had not been expelled. Now that Rorschach’s power had receded, the suppression was beginning to fail, and the information was starting to "decompress" again.
Deserts, a Wise Man, ancient history... The mories Rorschach had been resisting began to invade his mind once more. The disparate souls, all cramd into a single body, brought excruciating pain.
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