Chapter 1. Surviving as an F-Rank Healer (8)
If she hadn’t been F-rank, she might have received at least some basic consideration, even at a lower tier.
In other words, I was deliberately demanding concessions with that neglected situation in mind.
“I’m planning to practice for about a week before selling anything. During practice, I’ll give away whatever succeeds for free as a promotion. What do you think?”
“……”
The homeroom teacher looked at me with a strange expression.
Not only him. The other teachers nearby also started glancing over, pretending not to.
Of course, since their students would benefit too, I’d made sure to speak where everyone could hear.
Right. It’s good for everyone, isn’t it?
I get to practice, and others can stock up on cheap emergency supplies.
Not that I intended to make shoddy products.
“Hm.”
The homeroom teacher seemed to be thinking about how to word his permission.
Now.
I confirmed he’d softened enough, then slipped in what I’d been aiming for.
“I’m not asking for a good location.”
This was the most important part.
“I heard there’s an unused workshop in the old school building. Would it be okay if I used that?”
“…How do you even know about that?”
For the first time, his voice lost its sharp edge.
And he even looked hesitant.
“No matter what, that place is a bit…”
Another teacher, whose name I didn’t know, seemed about to interject, but I clasped my hands in front of my chest and kept my eyes only on the homeroom teacher.
“I found it while looking for a place to eat my lunch.”
Jin Hari had no one to eat with, and she was a poor special-category student whose tuition was waived.
Even the allowance meant for school meals had been taken by her family, so she survived on the free bread or simple meals provided in the morning or evening.
The teachers would know that.
It wouldn’t hurt to stir a little sympathy now.
“You don’t know why that place was closed, do you? The mana there is unstable.”
“Oh, but since I’m F-rank, I think it’ll be fine?”
“……”
The homeroom teacher hesitated, looking uncomfortable.
But he would allow it.
Even if it was beneficial, he wouldn’t want to look like he was supporting an F-rank healer.
‘Homeroom teachers get performance bonuses based on their students’ results each semester. It’s a system obsessed with efficiency.’
Supporting an F-rank and getting nothing out of it would only hurt him.
But if it was the old building, that concern disappeared.
‘I know why the mana there is unstable.’
In the original story, an artifact slept there. The protagonist casually picked it up, called it useless, and threw it to be eaten by a demon sword.
An artifact that converts HP into MP.
And if you consistently fed that ego low-grade potions, it unlocked a function that greatly accelerated stamina recovery.
Because of that function, the protagonist later struggled to tame the demon sword sleeping inside it.
He had to overpower a demon sword with infinite stamina.
‘I don’t need the demon sword. I’ll just borrow the other functions.’
The protagonist didn’t need the demon sword anyway.
Later, it just caused trouble with talk about chosen sacrifices and such.
‘Just donate it to someone who actually needs to run a factory.’
The real reason I insisted on that place was this artifact also converted lifespan into mana.
After countless regressions, Yoo Hanseong had accumulated massive amounts of unused lifespan from lives he never fully lived.
In that artifact episode, all of it was dumped at once and converted into “extra HP.”
And I was a possessor.
There was a chance I also had that “unused lifespan.”
If so—
‘I’ll alternate between reserve lifespan and this body’s stamina.’
That would overcome the frank weakness of low endurance limiting work output.
‘I’d become an infinite potion factory.’
If I could run it endlessly, proficiency would skyrocket exponentially…
And I had another way to obtain materials for special potions later.
If everything went well, I might even mass-produce mid-grade potions using an infinite factory by the first semester of the first year.
Hiding those thoughts, I kept my expression innocent and continued persuading the teacher.
“I’ll mostly be making low-grade potions, so unstable mana shouldn’t be a problem.”
“…Why are you so desperate?”
After listening quietly, the homeroom teacher finally asked, rubbing his temples.
I paused, then smiled awkwardly as I answered.
“Well… I’m lacking in many ways. So I have to work harder. If I don’t want to get in the way.”
Even if he wouldn’t care if I died, at this point he’d think it was easier to just allow it.
“……”
In the end, he handed over the key with a doubtful expression.
It was a square iron key attached to a bracelet.
“Thank you!”
“Don’t forget. You provide the materials.”
“Of course!”
I’d grow properly and, at the same time, attract future customers.
Success.
“If I succeed, I’ll bring the potion to you first for inspection!”
I smiled brightly as I said that.
The homeroom teacher frowned.
“Alright. Get out. I need to prepare for the next class.”
“Yes!”
***
“Honestly. Anyone can see she just doesn’t want to watch people get hurt.”
As soon as the strange first-year Jin Hari left the faculty office, the teacher seated in front muttered his comment.
He was the kind of teacher who constantly bothered Choi Jihyeong, unhappy that a promising B-rank support hunter had joined Narin at only twenty-five.
On a normal day, Jihyeong would’ve ignored him like a buzzing mosquito.
But today, he couldn’t.
When Jihyeong glanced over instead of ignoring him, the teacher kept talking.
“Does anyone not know that first-year finals are when the most students die?”
“……”
“No matter how low-grade the potion, piling on all those weird reasons just to sell them cheap. What else could that be but trying to reduce the number of deaths?”
“Is that how you see it?”
Jihyeong replied with cold sarcasm.
The teacher snorted.
Normally, he’d have backed down by now, but today he didn’t seem to care.
“If that’s not it, why would she do something that brings her no benefit?”
“She could be trying to curry favor with higher-ranked students.”
“Tsk tsk. If she fails completely, it’ll only leave a stain on her record. Why bother?”
“…Sigh. So what?”
In truth, Jihyeong knew the man was right for once.
He knew it but chose not to say it.
Because it was meaningless, and it wouldn’t last.
“What else? I’m saying it’s admirable. Even if it won’t last long.”
The annoying teacher clicked his tongue, looking regretful.
“If only she weren’t F-rank.”
If she weren’t, then what?
Knowing full well this man would happily force an unfair contract on a seventeen-year-old student, Jihyeong narrowed his eyes and stared silently.
The timing made it worse.
He had just handed over an old building workshop key to Jin Hari without even treating her like a proper student.
“Hmph. Well, anyway. She’s young. Just something kids think about once in a while. There are always a few like that.”
“For an F-rank, that’s not admirable. It’s strange.”
Still, Jihyeong continued the conversation despite his irritation.
Because he needed to.
She said she’d source materials herself.
Low-grade materials could be gathered from the academy’s artificial forests, but even that required effort.
It was a thoroughly unfair arrangement.
He just wanted that F-rank not to die unpleasantly here.
To drop out safely. Or get expelled.
Not to throw herself into the grinder willingly.
Tsk. It left a bad taste.
Seeing Jihyeong’s displeasure, the teacher said,
“Well, if she sells them cheap, the kids’ survival rate goes up. I’d be grateful for that.”
“There’s nothing to be grateful for.”
Jihyeong let out a sigh, then replied indifferently after settling his mood.
“She won’t last long anyway.”
“Even being grateful for a moment is something.”
How long could anyone stay altruistic when survival was on the line?
This was just the naive behavior of a child who didn’t understand reality yet.
“And as a beginner, even making low-grade potions will be hard. I guarantee she’ll give up in a week.”
“Hm. True.”
There was no room for disagreement there.
He truly believed it.
Until one week later.
“Hehe, Teacher! I succeeded!”
A child ran up to him, holding out a potion with hands mottled by burns.
Only then did he realize how wrong he had been.
