◆ Wealth and Connections
As time flowed onward, I devoted myself to four years of relentless study and refinement, from the age of twelve to sixteen.
My research advanced, and I meticulously refined the structure of my firearm until it reached a level I deemed suitable for practical use. The newly devised mechanism—fashioned in accordance with the lingering memories of my past life—had now taken the form of a rifle, equipped with a magazine.
— Yet, the process demanded a considerable sum of money.
It was, in truth, the days spent at the Alchemy Tower that became my salvation.
A mere son of a frontier knightly house held no such wealth. In truth, there were times when I struggled to afford the materials necessary for my research. It was difficult to seek aid from my peers in the Knightly Division, so instead, I turned to a companion from the Alchemy Division and inquired whether there was any work to be done in exchange for coin.
The answer was a firm “No.”
It seemed that students of the Magic Academy were forbidden from engaging in labor for monetary compensation. Any spare time was to be dedicated solely to study and refinement.
Then, how was one meant to afford the necessary expenses of research?
Upon reflection, it became clear—nearly all students at the Academy hailed from noble houses of at least Earl rank or higher.
For the wealthier among them, a single letter home would summon the required funds in mere days. No, even that was unnecessary—should they so desire, their very signature could be presented, and the bill would be sent to their household without question.
Foolish of me not to realize this sooner…
There was nothing to be done about it. As I quietly wallowed in resignation, one of my alchemist peers offered an interesting proposal.
“Hey, you’re from the frontier, aren’t you?”
“Indeed. I hail from a frontier knightly house.”
“Then, you’re familiar with magic tools, aren’t you?”
“Naturally. They serve as a valuable industry for our household. I even know a few artisans personally—some were childhood friends I used to play pranks with.”
“I see… There’s something I’ve heard about. Is it true there’s a box that can preserve things in a chilled state?”
“Ah, you mean the Thermal Preservation Chest? Yes, I am well aware. Currently, only small, box-like models exist, but they can be used to store drinks and vegetables at a cold temperature—or, alternatively, to keep things warm.”
“That’s the one! In my research, I’ve been working with various reagents, but they degrade far too quickly at room temperature. If I could store them at a lower temperature, I could conduct my experiments far more efficiently. The price is no object—just get me one.”
“Hmm… I see. Very well, but it will take about two months. Will that suffice?”
“As long as you deliver it swiftly, I have no complaints.”
Thus, I unexpectedly found a means to profit from the magic tools produced in my homeland—a staple of my house’s trade.
By forgoing merchants and avoiding mass sales to the general public, we maintained an appearance of nobility, exchanging goods solely between noble houses. This was no mere commerce, but rather an arrangement between families. As such, it remained free from scrutiny.
Without delay, I penned a letter home, addressing it to my mother, who oversaw the management of our house’s affairs.
Among my childhood acquaintances, there was one who had been granted the divine Craftsman’s Gift. He had entered the profession of magic tool craftsmanship and was already recognized as a skilled artisan.
Through my mother, I arranged for him to prepare a Thermal Preservation Chest. I had it purchased rather than simply acquired. And to secure more than just the device itself, I had it commissioned at a higher price—a premium I was willing to pay in order to obtain the magic inscriptions used within the device.
It was a costly investment, but in the long run, it would be far more advantageous.
Two months later, my acquaintance’s long-awaited item arrived, and in exchange for the agreed sum—now with additional profit—I handed it over.
“This is… incredible. No, truly incredible. I need one for my own home. Can you arrange that?”
“It will take some time, but I shall see it done.”
“I’m counting on you.”
Within the shipment, I found what I had truly sought—the schematics detailing the magical inscriptions required to construct the chest.
In truth, this had been my primary objective all along.
I possessed the ability to inscribe magical scripts. Furthermore, the technology I had devised for my firearms could be applied to improve upon the Thermal Preservation Chest, allowing me to develop an enhanced version.
That was the key—rather than inventing something entirely new, I would refine and improve upon what already existed.
Because the original device had been created by artisans within my domain, any modifications I made would not violate patent laws.
However, should the magic tool makers in the royal capital attempt to replicate my version, it would be deemed an unlawful forgery. The Royal Law was strict in this regard—any infringement upon the livelihood of frontier artisans would have disastrous consequences, potentially destabilizing the entire kingdom’s economy.
The benevolence of His Majesty the King did not lie in hoarding wealth solely within the capital, but in ensuring that all his subjects—be they of the capital or the frontier—could prosper equally.
Thus, intellectual property rights had been established to preserve this balance.
It was, in a way, a testament to His Majesty’s compassion for his people.
And so, I merely took advantage of what had already been granted.
The First Refrigeration Chamber
Thus, I completed my Cold Storage Unit, incorporating a variety of new innovations.
Since it was merely an improved model, the original patent still belonged to the magic tool workshop run by my childhood friend.
Even if the royal capital’s craftsmen attempted to replicate it, they would be unable to sell it. That was the law.
Once my preparations were complete, I sent word to my acquaintance. As though he had been waiting for the moment, I received an immediate response from his noble house—a request to deliver it at once to the upper Marquisate residence in the royal capital.
It was a rather large device, so I arranged for a carriage to transport it and personally installed it within their estate’s kitchen.
“M-Master! This… This is marvelous! Absolutely marvelous!!”
The head chef of the household was moved to the point of near tears, embracing my acquaintance and twirling him about in sheer delight.
What a sight… The head of the kitchen, treating his young lord like a child, spinning him around like that…
“Wait! WAIT!! Calm yourself, man! He’s watching! Compose yourself!”
“Well, if it brings you such joy, I am pleased as well.”
After freeing himself from the ecstatic chef’s grasp, my acquaintance turned toward me, his gaze filled with curiosity.
For an alchemist, his skepticism was entirely understandable. And so, I answered him sincerely.
“Given the sheer size and the extensive number of magical inscriptions within, the required magic must be enormous. I see that it operates independently, meaning it relies on magic stones—but how long do you expect this to run? A day? Perhaps half?”
“No less than a full year. That is the minimum duration I designed it for.”
“WHAT!? How is that possible!?”
Thus, my acquaintance’s household paid me a staggering sum for the patent rights.
Truly, gold was a wonderful thing.
With this, my research could continue without hindrance.
I naturally repaid the initial funding to my mother—plus a modest amount of interest.
In the same letter, I detailed how I had come upon such a large sum.
A few days later, a reply arrived.
It was a long, long letter filled with a mixture of gratitude, scolding, and deep bewilderment.
I could only smile wryly as I read it.