Chapter 40

Chapter 40

A month had passed since Sirone’s advancement, yet he had only just had his first direct conversation with Iruki. It wasn’t that Sirone had intentionally avoided him. Iruki just tended to skip more classes than he attended.

“Oh, Sirone Arian! The school’s acclaimed genius, right? I should make a note of this in my diary or something,” Iruki remarked.

From these first words, Sirone grasped why others might have been reluctant to approach Iruki.

“Hi. I’m Sirone. I hope we get along.”

“Why would a genius like you want to get along with me? Truth be told, I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you were in Class Seven, even during your success with the isolation form and your crossing of the Pathless Bridge.”

“Huh? You’ve been watching me?” At that moment, a realization dawned on Sirone. This voice… It was a thin voice that seemed to scrape against metal. Back when his Spirit Zone had quivered under the weight of criticism from the Class Seven students, this very voice had uplifted him. “Wait, were you the one who encouraged me back then?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say I encouraged you. I only said something because it was irritating to watch. I didn’t like how you were letting others affect you,” Iruki remarked with an air of annoyance.

For Sirone, it was a memory he appreciated. “Well, it helped me a lot.”

Iruki gave Sirone a piercing look. “You’re quite the boring one, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Sirone was startled. The offhanded comment left him feeling a touch offended.

Nade quickly stepped in. “Hey, Iruki! That’s not nice, especially after he just thanked you.”

Iruki turned away, cocking his head. “Oh, was it? I meant it as a compliment. Anyway, give it your best shot. It won’t be easy. Class Five is full of nut-heads.”

After Iruki walked away, Nade shouted after him, “Where are you going? Stay and practice with us.”

“It’s too bothersome.”

Sirone was left with his mouth agape. The idea that someone would find classes at a magic school bothersome was beyond his understanding. He couldn’t grasp how someone like Iruki had advanced to Class Five. “He’s quite the character.”

“Sorry about that, Sirone. Iruki’s actually not a bad guy once you get to know him,” Nade apologized.

“But...”

“I know what you’re thinking. But overanalyzing him will just wear us out. He’s a genius too, just not the same type as you. Maybe that’s where the disconnect is.”

“A genius? Iruki?”

“You didn’t know?”

Nade went on to share more about him. Despite the genius label, his academic performance in Class Five was average, much like Nade’s. Yet, nobody underestimated him because of his lopsided skill set. He tended to perform poorly in subjects that required sensitivity, like literature and art, but he could achieve full marks in analytical subjects with ease.

Initially, professors were eager to mentor Iruki because of his raw talent. However, his peculiar personality eventually led most to lose interest. Nonetheless, many speculated that Iruki would soon progress beyond Class Five, outperforming even some graduates in mathematical disciplines.

In short, while Sirone pursued a balanced approach across all subjects, Iruki’s strategy hinged on compensating for his weaknesses with his exceptional strengths. Iruki excelled in computational physics, a field often reserved for those with specialized neurological abilities. This discipline required computations for phenomena under extreme conditions, like absolute zero or temperatures exceeding 1,000,000 degrees.

In academic circles, those capable of such calculations were often referred to as having savant syndrome. Iruki could calculate dates forty thousand years in the future in under a minute, and if he never slept, he could recite pi’s decimal places for the rest of his life. His mind was a calculative force beyond human norms.

Sirone, hearing this, made a perplexed expression. Iruki’s abilities were undeniably remarkable. “Why is someone like him still in Class Five? Even if he lacked other talents, how could he score zero? He could’ve guessed some answers correctly.”

“That’s just Iruki for you.” Nade smiled. “Let me tell you about an incident from a theoretical exam a month ago...”

According to him, while Iruki had excelled in the natural sciences section, his response to the literature section had notably irritated his professor.

The question pertained to an excerpt from Gilberto’s poem, Ode to Autumn. It asked why the falling leaves in the last stanza, “O leaves that fall like rain, farewell,” were described as such. Most students saw it as expressing a fear of death. However, Iruki’s answers were strikingly different.

“Since the fluid (here, gas) moving over the surface of the falling leaves experiences air resistance at varying velocities, the leaves move in the direction where the combined force vectors, influenced by pressure, are the greatest. Below, I have provided the equation using the standard model for the dynamics of falling leaves.”

After that, the paper had been filled with strange symbols that were incomprehensible, according to Nade. Professors who were familiar with Iruki’s personality typically overlooked such responses, except for one: the literature teacher, Adelia. With a plump figure and an aunt-like demeanor, she had forcefully swung the classroom door open. She placed the exam paper in front of Iruki, who had been seated and waiting for the class to begin, and demanded an explanation.

“Iruki! What is this?”

“It’s my exam paper.”

“I mean this!” she had exclaimed, pointing at his answers. “This is a literature exam, not a mathematics one!”

“Isn’t the very act of distinguishing between math and literature proof of literature’s fictitious nature?”

Adelia’s face had turned as red as a tomato.“What makes you think you’re so smart? You’re just a student. It would take you years before you could act like a specialist! There are concepts in this world that math can’t define.”

“Professor, there aren’t any concepts that elude mathematical logic. If we believed any aspect of the world was illogical, how could we live without fear? For instance, the idea that my face might spontaneously explode is absurd without a logical basis.”

“So you’re suggesting that everything is logical? Even Gilberto’s poetry?”

“Of course. That’s precisely why I wrote my answers as I did.”

After a moment of huffing and puffing, Adelia had pointed at Iruki and shouted, “All right! Then answer me this. A thousand innocent lives are at risk, and you have the power to save them by sacrificing one innocent person. What would you do?”

“I would kill the thousand. Originally, the lives of a thousand who were meant to die and the life of one who didn’t have to die cannot be mathematically equated. It’s an unsolvable equation from the start.”

Adelia had struggled to contain her escalating irritation, for she, too, had her reasoning grounded in similar logic. “Is there a God or not? Answer me!”

“It’s possible that there isn’t.”

With Iruki’s logical response, Adelia’s determination had only intensified. “Your mother or your father, who would you choose? You must choose only one!”

“My mather.”

“Get out!”

Even Adelia’s fingertips had trembled. “Get out, you brat! Someone like you doesn’t even deserve to be in my class! Get out!”

Following this incident, Adelia’s complaint led to a faculty meeting. Ultimately, the professors had decided that Iruki’s answers, which they perceived as mocking the school’s authority, warranted a score of zero for all his humanities subjects.

“Wow, he really is something else,” Sirone exclaimed, taken aback upon hearing Iruki’s story.

He couldn’t fathom that Iruki was the same age as him. They were both seventeen. Not only had Iruki challenged a professor, but his confidence in asserting his thoughts at such a young age suggested extraordinary resolve.

“Ha, yeah. He really is one of a kind. And not the easiest to get along with,” Nade replied.

“Now that I think about it, I understand why he called me boring. But how could that be taken as a compliment?”

“Who knows? Maybe he saw something in you that he didn’t see in the others. That’s why I introduced you two thinking you might get along well.”

Sirone became more curious about the so-called maverick. Maybe I should’ve talked to him more. With that thought, he went in search of Iruki but suddenly stopped. “Huh? Nade, look over there.”

Iruki, with his characteristically annoyed expression, was heading toward the Image Zone. The other students parted for him, not out of dislike, but because they were anticipating some kind of spectacle.

Nade’s expression turned serious. “Damn it! What’s he planning this time? Let’s go check it out.”

Followed by other curious classmates, they approached the Image Zone.

“It’s Iruki. What’s he up to this time? Is he planning to strip and lie down again?”

Sirone was puzzled. Undressing in front of a place full of female students seemed quite perplexing to him. The more he learned about his personality, the less he understood.

Despite the students’ concerns, Iruki entered the Spirit Zone. He then produced a sphere with a fifteen-meter diameter. It was modest for Class Five, but size wasn’t the important factor at hand.

The isolation form? Sirone thought.

As Iruki executed the Spirit Zone Quaternion, his Spirit Zone detached from his body and slipped away.

“Look at Iruki go. It’s been a while since he’s put on a show.”

“Shouldn’t we stop him? He already got banned using the Image Zone by Professor Etala.”

“Leave him be. He’s not the type to stop because we tell him to.”

Iruki’s Spirit Zone in isolation form, looking almost identical to its original, roamed around with a wide radius.

Amid the collective admiration, Iruki looked at Sirone and smirked. With a flick of his finger, targets sprang out from all directions, darting around like birds. While it was against the rules for students to target things unilaterally, a few students let out sighs. However, most were captivated by the display, paying little mind to the breach of regulations.

“Wow...”

Iruki’s detached Spirit Zone tracked the targets with extraordinary precision, bending angles with ease like a bouncing rubber ball. Their speed was astonishing.

Sirone was genuinely amazed. Incredible.

On one hand, it seemed like such movements would be impossible unless one’s mind was entirely out of it.

Professor Etala, who was teaching Class Four, rushed over in surprise after seeing the Image Zone. “Huh? Iruki! What on earth are you doing?”

Resolute, Iruki intensified his focus and sent his Spirit Zone hurtling toward the targets. As the isolation form’s sphere engulfed each target, light began to bubble and shimmer.

“That lunatic!”

As the students staggered back, full of feelings of dismay, Iruki’s explosive magic was complete.

“Atomic Bomb,” he whispered.

The explosion was so intense that it generated a shockwave, knocking some students off their feet. Groans and grunts filled the air as they struggled to regain their balance. When Sirone lowered his arms to look, he found Iruki standing at the end of the Image Zone.

Hands behind his back, Iruki’s face was expressionless as he said, “Until next time, Sirone.”

What does he mean by “until next time?” No, more importantly, what was he thinking when he did this? Sirone couldn’t fathom it, but one question was soon answered.

Etala grabbed Iruki by the ear and hauled him away. “Iruki! I warned you that one more stunt like this would lead to discipline!”

“Ow, ow!” he cried. “But I was careful not to damage any equipment. You know what would have happened if I had really let loose.”

“When will you start reflecting on your actions? You’re on probation for a week starting now! Don’t show up to class!”

“Yikes! That’s too harsh!” Iruki’s screams echoed, yet even in those final moments, he didn’t admit he was wrong. Instead, he managed to give a wry smile to Sirone and Nade as he was being dragged away.

“Oh, for crying out loud! He’s gone and done it again. I’m sorry, Sirone. I should go check on him.”

After Nade hurried off after Iruki, Sirone remained rooted to his spot. Detonation magic...

It was the most extreme method of energy manipulation.