[English Edition Only] Bonus Episode — The Bureaucrats and the House of Learning

Felsen Primary School. Founded on the principle that "education is the ultimate infrastructure investment," it served as a laboratory where children mastered the latest mathematical techniques.

Inside the principal's office, five men stood frozen.

These were veteran civil servants dispatched from the Duchy of Daryl, the very core of their territory’s administration. To a man, they were trembling with a mix of confusion and poorly concealed humiliation.

"Wait... Principal Martha. Surely I misheard you?"

Hans, the leader of the group, asked in a quivering voice. He was a man known as a "demon for figures," having overseen tax collection in Daryl for over thirty years.

"You didn't mishear me, Mr. Hans," Principal Martha replied with a gentle smile that brooked no compromise. "I am placing you in the First Introductory Class."

"This is preposterous! We were sent here by His Grace the Duke to learn advanced administrative management! And you expect us to sit with these... children and start with one plus one?!"

"Indeed. As it stands, you are like infants who cannot speak the language of numbers in this country. Now, there goes the bell. To your classroom."

"Good morning, Teacherrr!"

The energetic voices of children echoed through the classroom.

In the very back row, a group of middle-aged men in overly fine clothing sat looking utterly out of place. They looked miserable; the desks were so small their knees jutted out awkwardly into the aisles.

"This is a disgrace. The lowest point of my career," one muttered.

"Quiet, Hans. We do this for the Duke..."

As they grumbled under their breath, a man stepped up to the front of the room.

"Class, we have some visiting trainees joining us today. Please be kind to them. Now, let’s begin. We’ll start with a review of the concept of 'zero' and carrying digits."

Hans scoffed.

(Zero? Why bother naming nothingness? What a colossal waste of time...)

However, fifteen minutes into the lesson, beads of cold sweat were rolling down Hans’s forehead.

"Observe. By using this base-ten system, even multiplication of large numbers can be broken down into a simple, repeatable process called 'long multiplication.' There is no need for complex mental gymnastics. You simply arrange the numbers according to the rules."

Argo’s chalk danced across the blackboard. Complex revenue estimates that would have taken the Daryl bureaucrats three days of scratching with quills were being rewritten into tidy, elegant equations in a matter of minutes.

"What... what is this beauty?" Hans whispered, breathless.

The "work" they had performed until now—wasting mountains of parchment and endless hours—seemed like primitive, inefficient child's play compared to the "logic" this silver-haired man was demonstrating.

"Could the student in the next seat help him out?" Argo asked.

Prompted by Argo, the seven-year-old girl sitting next to Hans peered at his notebook.

"Mister, if you forget the 'zero' here, the house gets ten times bigger. You have to be careful."

"Ah... right. My apologies, young lady... I mean, senior."

The sound of Hans’s pride shattering was almost audible. Here, status and age meant nothing. Only those who grasped the "correct logic" could perceive the world truly.

Noon arrived. The classroom was filled with the savory scent of toasted bread and spice-laden stew.

"That’s enough studying for now. It’s time for lunch! Visiting trainees, please help with the serving!"

At Principal Martha’s command, the bureaucrats found themselves bewildered and strapped into aprons, hauling large pots.

Today’s menu was Felsen’s specialty: magic-beast meat tomato stew, fluffy white bread, and a fresh salad.

"Is this... is this seriously 'school food'?"

"It looks better than the banquets back home..."

They sat at the long tables with the children. After the unfamiliar custom of a pre-meal thanks, Hans took a bite. His eyes shot wide open.

"It’s... it’s delicious! The flavor is... precise."

The umami of the ingredients was perfectly extracted, and the saltiness was expertly controlled. This wasn't just "intuition" or "experience"—this was a flavor born of measurement and reproducibility.

"Teacher, seconds please!"

"Master Argo, help me with this part!"

The children flocked to Argo. A man who might have been shunned elsewhere as a "member of the magic races" was adored here like a sage granting wisdom.

"Mr. Hans, is the food to your liking?"

Argo sat down next to him with his own tray. Hans scrambled to straighten his posture.

"Master Argo... please accept my apologies. Your computational skills, the system of this school... we were gravely mistaken."

Argo was calm and spoke with a gentle smile.

"Numbers do not lie. They provide equal answers to everyone, regardless of emotion or social standing. If you take this knowledge back to the Daryl territory, I am certain it will save many of your people."

Hans stared down at his wooden spoon. The humiliation he had felt that morning was gone.

In its place was a pure, soaring excitement, like a child who had just begun to master a new language.

"Principal..." Hans said sheepishly as Martha walked by. "Would it be alright if I sat in the front row starting tomorrow?"

Martha nodded with satisfaction.

"Of course. But remember... if you forget your homework, you’ll be standing in the hallway."

Later that afternoon, as the sun set, the elite bureaucrats of the Daryl territory were desperately practicing tracing the numbers zero through nine.

Even as the children went out to play, not a single one of them put down their pens.

They had realized it now. There was no escape from the beautiful "cage of logic" they had discovered.

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