THE following evening, when I returned home, two wooden boxes sat in front of the cabin. I wondered if the boxes were actually stuffed with worms as some kind of mean student prank, but I spotted a note on the lid.
“Um… ‘I asked Rena von Wiegert about the ingredients and had him prepare the same items. I’d like you to use them for tonight’s dinner. -Vil,’” I read.
Ah, so you were behind this… I thought. The situation reminded me of a popular fairy tale about a fox bringing food to a hunter every day. But enough about that… I’ve got some testing to do. First, I wanted to make some different dishes and wondered if any would help Mr. Vil. Since I found a magnificent slab of meat, I decided to make steak tonight. Once I took care of the plants and prepped dinner, Mr. Vil arrived.
“Did you get the ingredients?” he asked.
“Yessir,” I replied. “The groundwork for dinner is already prepared. I just need to grill the meat.”
“I see… Thank you.”
I then studied with him for two hours before I went back inside to make dinner. I kept the steak a little rare and cut it into bite-sized pieces. I set out bread, steak, and salad on the table, along with herb butter made from chopped herbs from the garden. They paired very well with steak.
I nervously watched as Mr. Vil brought the meat to his lips. When he swallowed, he clapped his hand against his mouth.
“Oh no?! Mr. Vil!” I cried. I had a bucket ready nearby and put it in front of him.
“What’s that bucket for, Ritual?” he asked.
“So that you could, uh, spit out the food if needed.”
“I won’t do that. The meat was good.”
I was stunned. “You were being really misleading, sir!”
“Can you blame me?!”
Yes, I can. I held the bucket in front of me, befuddled by his earlier reaction to my food.
“I ate the exact same meat for lunch,” he explained. “But my migraine didn’t go away, and I still felt fatigued and sluggish. But the moment I ate your food, all of my ailments vanished, and I feel so much better…”
I pressed my hand against my lips, perplexed. The owner of the pharmacy had told me that my mana was compatible with Mr. Vil’s, but that alone didn’t explain why his condition suddenly improved. Unless…
“Um, Mr. Vil… Are you…perhaps being poisoned?” I asked cautiously.
“Poisoned? Impossible…”
For the past three to four years, he almost ate daily at Vizer, and that was exactly when he started to feel ill almost every day.
“If I were poisoned, it means that someone’s been doing it every single day,” he mumbled.
“Where do you usually eat?” I asked.
“At Ruhig. It’s a restaurant on the highest floor of the school.”
I’ve dined with Prince Rena there before… Mr. Vil had dined there and had some steak for lunch. He gasped with recognition, the blood draining from his face like he was about to faint.
“Now that you mention it, I felt a lot better when I took a break from school…” he muttered.
“Which means you only felt ill while you attended this school,” I concluded.
I asked why this possibility never crossed his mind when he turned to me and dropped a bombshell.
“His Ma— I mean, my uncle has shown similar symptoms,” he admitted. “I thought this was some kind of chronic ailment that plagued my family.”
Which meant that Mr. Vil’s uncle also suffered from chronic migraines, dizziness, and insomnia. The uncle was in worse condition than Mr. Vil and was now bedridden.
“I pray that this is some kind of illness…” Mr. Vil muttered. “Or else…”
This implied that someone was targeting his life. Instead of using a high dosage that could immediately be fatal, the culprit gave small doses to evade detection and slowly but surely chip away at his life.
“Mr. Vil, we should visit Professor Whipp!” I urged. “We can definitively find out if you’ve been poisoned!”
“But she’s—” Mr. Vil started.
“Hurry!”
I tugged on his arm and headed straight for Professor Whipp’s office. I was relieved the lights were still on as I marched through the door.
“Excuse me, Professor Whipp!” I shouted.
“My… This is an unusual pair,” Professor Whipp said in her usual languid tone. “Since when did you two get so close?”
“That shouldn’t matter,” Mr. Vil muttered.
Right. We should get right to business. Mr. Vil stepped forward and gave his story.
“For the past few years, I’ve felt sick almost daily,” he confessed. “I visited physicians and magic doctors, but I was told that there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Oh dear… Perhaps you’ve been poisoned,” Professor Whipp suggested.
“Ritual just told me that today, and only then did the possibility hit me.”
“I see…”
He asked if there was a way to check whether he was poisoned, and she nodded.
“Of course,” she said. “I’ve got white leaves. They don’t really circulate the market, but you just need to give one a drop of your blood, and if there’s poison, it’ll turn black.”
White leaf could absorb any and all poisons and toxins. It was generally used to remove poison from someone’s body by rubbing it into their wound, but it also reacted to trace amounts of poison.
“Could you put a drop of your blood here?” she asked.
Mr. Vil didn’t hesitate. He took a knife and made a small cut in his fingertip. When a bead of blood formed on the surface of his skin, he gently smeared it onto the white leaf. At once, the pale plant turned darker than void.
“Poison?!” Mr. Vil gasped with shock and astonishment.
“That’s your answer,” Professor Whipp said in a singsong tone. “Someone has been poisoning you, but I wonder whoooo…”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Hee hee, that’s how it goes. People tend to earn others’ envy or ire without noticing.”
He asked if there was a way to analyze the poison in his body, and he pulled out a potion that I sold to the pharmacy.
“Oh? This potion…” Professor Whipp muttered.
“It’s a potion that’s very compatible with me and stops any attacks that I suffer from,” Mr. Vil said. “Could you look into this as well?”
Professor Whipp knew I had made this potion since I gave her one to get permission for my part-time work. She glanced at me, and I shook my head, implying that I wanted to stay quiet about it. She nodded back with understanding, but I was more curious about why my potion in particular had the power to stop any attacks that Mr. Vil suffered from. Even then, I’m not keen on telling him that that’s my potion.
“It’ll take a few days, but I’ll do my best to look into it,” she said.
“Aren’t you busy?” Mr. Vil asked. He claimed that he could ask someone else and tried to take the white leaf on the table, but Professor Whipp swiftly snatched it from him.
“Now, now, your life is at risk, is it not?” she asked. “I find it most unwise to put so much faith in another person.”
“You’re…right,” he muttered.
“I’m busy, but I’m not heartless enough to turn a blind eye when your life is in danger. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it, so just leave it to me.”
Her laudable words almost moved me to tears. This sort of kindness must’ve been one reason why she was so popular among students.
“You’re an incredibly good professor, ma’am!” I cried.
“Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Er, um… Your tone and constant smile make it seem like you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve… I…can’t help but feel like I’m being tricked somehow.”
When she asked me to take charge of the greenhouse plants, I suspected she was giving me too sweet a deal and was actually deceiving me somehow. But in reality, she was just worried about me and even lent me a hand whenever I needed it.
“I-I’m sorry,” I apologized.
“That’s all right,” she replied. “You’re not the first, and you certainly won’t be the last to suspect that I’m up to no good. It’s this face and tone of mine, I suppose.”
I guess everyone sees her that way. Really, I’m sorry.
“But back on topic, don’t tell anyone about the poison yet,” she stressed. “It should be kept among us.”
Mr. Vil nodded solemnly, and I also promised to keep quiet.
“And you should eat at Misha’s place when you can,” the professor added.
The best course of action for now was to minimize the poison that Mr. Vil was ingesting.
“You should visit her every day,” she said.
“Are you saying that to me?” Mr. Vil asked.
“Who else would I say it to?” She poked his arm playfully, but the two maintained a mask of indifference that was a bit scary.
“But if I’m in her care every day, it’d only cause her trouble,” he insisted.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Professor Whipp reassured. “Misha’s a hard worker. Aren’t you, my dear?”
“I sure am!” I exclaimed.
She even offered to pay for his food expenses, so I had no complaints on my end.
“I know! Why don’t you change the location of your base?” the professor suggested.
“I can’t do that,” Mr. Vil said with regret. “I have duties that I must fulfill.”
“I see… A man with a strong sense of responsibility, huh? It’s important to do your work, but…” She smiled as she tapped her index finger on his chest. “You’d best protect your life as well.”
Mr. Vil gave a solemn nod in response.