"Have you been waiting long? Terribly sorry for my lateness. The traffic, you understand," the director of administration hurriedly explained himself as he sat down with Hee-bong Yang, a journalist for the Inpyeong Daily newspaper. "Oh, it's no problem," answered Yang, "I just got here as well. Apparently, there's some construction going on. A split pavement, from what I've heard." And so, the two shook hands.
Hee-bong Yang was in charge of the politics section of the regional newspaper, though in a city like Inpyeong, that meant that he took care of practically everything. Considering the fact that welfare services greatly increased the overall quality of life, most regional communities (including Inpyeong) were more than willing to cooperate with organizations. This was especially true in the field of childcare, where favorable liaisons between childcare facilities and regional organizations are a must.
"For example," said the director, "field trips to local museums are mainly to preserve the history and culture of specific regions. We can then expect an increase in interest towards history and its connections to today's society."
"Hmm." reporter Yang answered idly. "I suppose, yes. They do have their value, whether from an educational perspective or a societal one."
Though Yang's reaction had been far from enthusiastic, the director made no mention of it. After all, this topic had been more of an opening statement, a sort of appetizer for the more important discussion to be had. And so, the director continued talking.
"If we were to increase the productivity of regional welfare facilities and advertise more efficient programs, it would help to improve the community's reputation and also bring some profit, since we could obtain funds for expanding our welfare services. But in the case of our current issue… I've found that it's quite different."
"Yes," answered Yang. "it really is. I almost didn't notice myself."
"Ah, so you already knew of this."
Yang lifted his gla.s.s to eye-level before speaking again. "Indeed. Actually, there was a small… incident, so to speak, that went almost unnoticed. Normally, our staff would have caught wind of it right away, but they seem to have hidden it well." He observed the swirling amber liquid in his gla.s.s, admiring the light as it refracted off the faceted crystal, and downed the whole thing at once.
"Could you elaborate?" asked the director, refilling the reporter's gla.s.s. Perhaps it was due to the lighting of the room, but Yang's eyes looked rather sharp. In other words, he looked quite ill-tempered.
"The incident itself wasn't really a big deal. Just another case of embezzlement."
"… Then I suppose it's the people involved that are a big deal. Whether it's the perpetrator or the victim."
Yang swirled his gla.s.s, making sure that the liquid and the ice mixed properly. The true flavor of the drink shone when it was cold. Or so he believed. "A relative of the mayor's. Mother's side. He could have just shrugged it off as a distant cousin, but they seem to be quite close, surprisingly. The prosecution apparently found a connection between the two. Well, I guess the whole thing can be summarized as the mayor trying to defend an embezzler."

"Well, but how--"
"'How is this related to the inst.i.tute,' is it?" Yang smirked. "It's in three weeks, isn't it? Well, the court hearing starts on Monday next month, but they needed a connection to the judge before that. Then you may wonder, why not meet privately? Why the big flashy show? That's because the mayor is running for the next term. So, naturally, he has quite a few reporters following him around. Imagine what would happen if they were to catch him pressuring people here and there to keep things quiet. Not to mention how many eyes and ears there are in restaurants or even places like this. So, he chose to blow things up rather than risk being accused of bribery. It's a thin line between official and casual."
"But, Mr. Yang, how do you--"
"How do I know all this? The mayor's people told me."
"Excuse me?"
"I mean, how else would someone like me be able to sit here with someone like you? Thanks to our outstanding lawmakers, none of the important people are allowed to treat me to meals or send me gifts anymore. It's only thanks to the mayor's relative getting into trouble that I'm finally getting my fair share."
The director was speechless, but the reporter went on, regardless.
"Do you understand why I'm telling you all this?"
"To be honest, I do not."
"Director… I heard that you're in Board Director Jeong's faction?"
The director of administration choked on his drink. The reporter calmly offered him a napkin and picked up where he had left off. "Well, Jeong's faction also has some ties with the mayor's. What a close-knit community, huh?"
Close-knit? Community? No, this was nothing more than a messy tangle of webs, all intertwined. The more you struggled to free yourself, the more you'd be ensnared. With each struggle, new webs would be made to replace the broken ones. For now, the director of administration had no idea how much money the relative had embezzled, or how involved the mayor was, or how many people were being pressured by him, or how much money had been spent and how much would be spent. The director had no idea, and he knew it'd be best to remain in the dark.
To make things more confusing, he received a call from Board Director Jeong as soon as he left the meeting with the reporter. The call didn't entail much. He was not to worry about the chairman of the inst.i.tute, but it was imperative that he cooperated with the court.
Truth always weighed heavy, and surely enough, the phone he had shoved in his pocket began to feel very, very c.u.mbersome.
****
Lucid immersed himself in his studies for quite a long time, to the point that he did little else at all. He was constantly reading, not only in cla.s.s, but also through all his free time. Some teachers even worried that he was developing an addiction. Whenever he had any free time, he would read an encyclopedia. It was a fun read, separated as it was by topics, but most importantly, it helped him with his magic research. It hadn't been long, but he had almost succeeded in forming a figura (image materialization) for four different magics.
However, he hadn't been able to fully materialize any of them, likely due to his lack of knowledge about properties. Attempting to form an image based only on appearance resulted in vague, dark silhouettes. The reason materialization magic was so difficult was exactly due to this issue: one needed extensive knowledge about an object to be able to recreate it. Thinking of it, Pincheno's skill in materializing water signified his prowess as a sorcerer.
"I dedicated my life to it. To this magic." The old man had told Lucid. "And still, I couldn't do it. But one day it came to me. Diapho. That's when I succeeded. It was truly like a miracle."
What Lucid had realized from reading was that if it hadn't been for that sudden moment of awareness, of diapho, he would have never been able to materialize fire as he had. Though he hadn't known the proper terms, he had had a vague understanding of combustion, oxidation, and flammability, and that knowledge had been the source of his success. Now, at least as far as fire was concerned, he knew properties better than anyone else. And through the books he had read, he had learned about combustion as a reaction, about flammability, and even about changes in color due to refractions in the light.
Still, a.n.a.lyzing physical properties was an arduous task, and his ignorance in the field of scientific theories meant that there weren't many objects he could properly form a figura of. Lucid hoped that he would be able to do so soon, as long as he continued to read and fill the gaps in his knowledge. He closed the book he had been reading and stood up.
Monday. The day of the field trip had finally arrived.
The bus sent by the court, big enough to sit 35 people, pulled up to the inst.i.tute, which was abuzz since early morning. The children got on the bus one by one, all while maintaining an orderly line. One instructor and two supervisors joined them on the bus, while the chairman and the executive secretary decided to follow on their personal vehicles. As for the director of administration, he remained behind to take care of some paperwork. He wouldn't be missing much, as even the chairman would be returning right after taking a few pictures for the press.
"Myeong-su, sit up straight. Jihye, you're a middle schooler now! What will the younger children think of you? Myeong-su is learning all this from you!"
Truth to be told, Myeong-su was doing as he pleased, rather than copying someone else, but there was no need to tell the teacher of this. There wasn't a person on the bus, let alone the inst.i.tute, who didn't know.
Lucid sat at his seat, perfectly still, and read his book, t.i.tled "Physics in Daily Life." He had borrowed it from a middle schooler, but it was so clean and unused that Lucid was a bit nervous to dirty it. Besides (and rather obviously), Lucid had no idea what he was reading half the time. It was much too difficult for him to understand, but he read along anyway, firm in the belief that it would come to help him later. The only reason he had chosen this book was because of Praete. After learning from the encyclopedia that the act of slipping was due to "friction," he had realized that phenomenon magic was deeply tied to physics as a science. However, he lacked the knowledge to fully understand the study, so he just read and read, hoping to at least memorize the contents.
No one interrupted Lucid when he read. Ever since the incident, people had begun to keep their distance from the boy. Children, ever perceptive of their surroundings, had sensed that there was something dangerous about him, while the adults couldn't bring themselves to cheer up the suddenly somber boy, even out of a sense of duty. Truthfully speaking, the prejudice against children raised in inst.i.tution played a rather big role in Lucid being ignored by surrounding adults.
Still, everything had an exception. And surely enough, Myeong-su stayed by Lucid's side.
"Come on, plaster face. Time to get off! We're here!"
Myeong-su was the first one off the bus, and he stretched his hands out towards the sky dramatically, as if leaving the inst.i.tute was some sort of great freedom he had obtained. Looking at him, so excited as he was, Lucid couldn't help but smile.
End