LS2RW 20

CHAPTER 20

After Leonhardt left, I was left trembling alone.

The last instruction still hovered in the air.

[Step 3: (Confidently) Alright, then. I’ll create a perfect proposal for you. Once you see it, I’m sure you’ll change your mind.]

“Are you crazy? Who said you could go ahead and make a proposal?!”

I was so sick of assignments. I almost died of overwork in my fourth year of college because of them!

And now I had to do assignments even inside a novel? In just five days, at that?!

I followed the instruction thinking it would get rejected anyway. I never thought Leonhardt would actually accept it.

“Ha…”

Leonhardt, what on earth were you thinking when you agreed? Are you really okay with having to face me at least once?

As soon as Leonhardt was gone, Undine appeared and muttered.

—Even with a different body, your habits haven’t changed. Fascinating.

“Huh? What habit do I have?”

—You talk to yourself all the time. Sometimes you just stare into space… It was weird at first, but I’ve gotten used to it.

“Ah…”

She was talking about my reaction when the instructions showed up.

Undine suddenly clapped her hands together.

—Oh, right! Why did you suddenly cough up blood? And pass out! I was so shocked, I almost revealed myself in front of Leonhardt!

“…I don’t know. I think I was just really shocked because of Rusfell.”

—How weak does your body have to be to cough up blood from surprise? Are you sick or something?

If only it were a disease—I could hope for recovery. But penalties couldn’t be undone until the novel ended.

“It’s not like that. I’m fine now, aren’t I?”

—True, but… Isn’t Leonhardt completely insane? What’s he doing to a sick person? I didn’t know he was such a rude jerk!

“Oh, that’s fine. If he wasn’t a prince, I’d have grabbed him by the collar already.”

—Let’s just tell the truth. If he knew you were Adele, Leonhardt would act differently.

“I told you, we can’t.”

—Why not? Because the soul transfer spell broke? I know that’s a lie.

My mind froze. I stared wide-eyed at Undine.

“W-what are you talking about? Th-that’s not a lie!”

—At least don’t stutter if you’re going to lie… Well, whatever. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me. Even people in love have secrets.

I avoided Undine and lay down on the bed.

“Ugh, I-I’m suddenly sleepy…”

I was about to pretend to sleep when Undine stared straight at me.

—Rian.

“Y-yeah? What?”

—If you don’t want people to find out you’re Adele, you’d better start watching what you say.

“What are you talking about?”

—You mumbled ‘Leona’ in your sleep. Leonhardt heard it all.

“…What?!”

I shot up from the bed.

Only then did I begin to understand Leonhardt’s intentions.

“Did he seriously call in the expedition members to dig up dirt on me? That’s just creepy.”

“Pretending to know something just because you heard a rumor? That’s dangerous.”

So that’s what he meant.

‘He must think I researched him and am impersonating Adele.’

No wonder he’s furious. A stalker tainting precious memories would drive anyone mad.

That’s why he accepted my offer—to humiliate me publicly.

No matter how creative or brilliant my plan was, Leonhardt would never approve it.

He’d reject it over and over, tormenting me until the statue project was ready.

And I’d have to keep making proposal after proposal, knowing they’d end up in the trash.

All because of a deranged author.

Gritting my teeth, I muttered.

“You… I’m going to destroy you.”

“In construction planning, the top priorities depend on purpose: first is suitability, second is cost-efficiency, and third is accessibility. Let’s say you’re entering a public building design contest.”

The professor rolled his eyes dramatically. Behind his glasses, his gaze swept across the students.

“People like you, all style and no substance, always go straight for Renaissance or Gothic designs—making things as flashy and ‘cool’ as possible. Then you clutter your blueprints with so much junk it’s impossible to even understand what you drew.”

The classroom fell completely silent at his scathing critique.

“You know how many of those submissions we get in competitions? They all look the same. It’s exhausting. My eyeballs rot just looking at them.”

A student hesitantly raised his hand. Everyone’s attention turned toward him.

“Ooh, today’s designated punching bag,” someone whispered.

“Um, professor… So, are you saying that’s a disqualification?”

“What a genius question. Even ignoring feasibility, you already failed on suitability. And your cost-efficiency? Negative.”

“Could you explain in more detail…?”

“Are your ears clogged? You think I’ve got time to repeat myself for you?”

“I-I heard you, but I was hoping for more detail…”

“Alright, listen up, Rockhead. Can you convince a client to accept astronomical costs and timelines? Where are you getting the stonemasons? What’s your plan for maintenance? You couldn’t fund that if we sold hundreds of copies of you. Wait, your brain’s made of stone too. Make that thousands.”

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Sketching something doesn’t make it worth anything. Your blueprints aren’t even fit for toilet paper. At least a blank sheet could be used.”

That was during my second year in an architecture class.

The professor was infamous for being harsh and unkind—but I learned a lot from him.

After that, I stopped instinctively defaulting to Gothic designs.

Not completely, of course—I still used parts of them.

Architecture students do have a thing for Gothic, after all.

“Haa…”

I sighed, resting my chin on my hand.

This world had developed magic instead of science.

Which meant astronomical construction costs and timelines could literally be shortened with magic.

Even the royal castle destroyed by monsters had been rebuilt within a year—in full Gothic style, no less.

To an architecture student, this world was a dream.

No realistic constraints—almost anything was possible.

‘Then why can’t I make any progress, even after two days?’

It wasn’t even about aiming high.

[Step 3: Adrian begins to draft the perfect proposal.]

Unlike that dumb instruction, a “perfect proposal” didn’t exist.

‘Why put effort into a plan that’s going to be rejected anyway? I’m not stupid.’

I planned to just slap something together—not total garbage, but nothing fancy either.

But I soon realized something.

You can only “slap something together” if you know what you’re doing.

There were so many unfamiliar materials.

And I didn’t know what kind of magic would make certain construction methods possible here.

Even starting with design was hard. I couldn’t draw a single line without wondering if it was even doable.

So I summoned the spirits for help…

—Hmm? Sprinkler? What’s that?

—It says right there: it’s a device that sprays water at regular intervals, you water-brained moron.

—You ignorant fire lizard, who are you calling water-brained?

—Will you two stop fighting? I already said I’d slice your mouths open with Wind Cutter if you kept going.

—S-sorry, Sylph. But why are we even making this? Can’t we just draw water from a nearby lake?

—Uh, maybe it’s too hard, so they’re trying to automate it?

—Temperature control using radiant heat? XX, are humans XX? Can’t they regulate their own heat?

—Stupid lizard, humans can’t regulate their temperature. Seriously, do I have to explain everything? I’m telling Rian to cancel your contract. Immediately.

—…XX. Come with me. We’re fighting.

—Great. Go fight outside. Gnome, got anything to say?

—……

—Nothing at all? Alright, got it.

Their elemental magic was completely different from human magic—useless, really.

That was the conclusion I reached after an entire wasted day.

I was supposed to meet Leonhardt in five days. Now only three remained.

My only option was to research how buildings were constructed here, studying their blueprints and proposals one by one.

I collapsed onto the desk, face down.

‘Ugh, I really don’t want to do this…’

At that moment, the four useless spirits vanished all at once.

I straightened up—just as I heard a presence approaching.