I Was a Dropout Who Couldn’t Use Magic for 16 Years, but Then I Remembered My Past Life as a Scientist and Became OP in Another World - Chapter 11

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“—Cough, cough…! Achoo!”

The moment I opened the door, a thick cloud of dust assaulted my nose.

“Ronnie-sama! A-are you alright?”

Carla, who was standing behind me, reached out to pat my back.

“Huff… It’s even worse than I imagined…”

“M-maybe there’s been some kind of mistake in asking you to stay here… My room would still be better than this!”

“Mistake or not, I doubt Father cares where I sleep.”

“Th-that’s… But… w-would it be alright to ask for permission to look for a better room?”

“Well, we might find a better room if we search, but—”

Without finishing my sentence, I stepped into the room while Carla looked up at me with concern.

The floor was covered with a thick carpet of dust that stirred into the air with every step, forming hazy clouds. Random pots, furniture, and unidentifiable objects were piled up haphazardly, making it resemble a junkyard rather than a proper storage space.

“What an ugly piece of pottery… Is this supposed to be a frog? No, maybe a cat? Anyway, I’ll need a broom, a rag, and a bucket. Oh, great, the window’s rusted shut… grrrk.”

“I’ll go get them righ—wait, Ronnie-sama! Instead of cleaning this place, we can definitely find a better room somewhere else!”

“No, this is going to be my room.”

“Whaaaat?! W-why?!”

Carla stared at me, baffled, as I began rummaging through the dusty piles of junk, ignoring her protests.

“Didn’t you hear? Father said I could do whatever I wanted with the things in this room.”

“So what?”

“So, I’m going to take him at his word and make the most out of this dusty pile of antiques.”

“W-wait, what…?”

—

〇

The Narazario estate was large, as you’d expect from a noble family’s home.

The European-style architecture looked like something out of a coffee table book, with a sprawling garden featuring a fountain situated between the front gate and the main entrance. The U-shaped, three-story mansion housed a courtyard where Johann often trained and a backyard at the rear of the east wing.

It was an unnecessarily large plot of land, more trouble for the gardeners than anyone else. But I suppose flaunting wealth with estates like this was one way to establish the prestige of a count’s household. Personally, I think comparing bank statements would be much simpler.

Father Dawson, Mother Elia, and Johann’s rooms were all located on the third floor of the central wing. Their windows overlooked the courtyard, and stepping out into the hallway offered a view of the garden.

Meanwhile, my new room, formerly a storage space, was tucked away at the farthest corner of the third floor in the east wing. Important people got rooms in the center; the unimportant were shuffled to the edges. Simple and easy to understand.

But let me clarify: I wasn’t about to lodge a complaint about my treatment.

What I wanted to emphasize was that this household had money.

Even the dust-covered antiques lying around in this storage room weren’t cheap trinkets. They must’ve cost my ancestors a fortune to collect.

—

“That’s why,” I said, lifting a bizarre ceramic figurine that resembled a cat-like yokai, “even these creepy-looking ceramic pieces should fetch a decent price.”

“Y-you’re going to sell them? But isn’t that… I mean, won’t you get in trouble?”

“Nope. This room hasn’t changed since I was a kid. Nobody’s going to miss anything from here.”

“I-I see…”

“Besides, I have Father’s explicit permission. He told me everything in this room is mine. If anyone complains, I’ll count on you to back me up, Carla.”

“P-please don’t drag me into that responsibility…! I-I’ll just go fetch the cleaning supplies for now.”

“Good.”

—

And so, with Carla’s reluctant assistance, I began the monumental task of cleaning the room and sorting through the items inside.

No matter how much we swept, the dust seemed never-ending. No matter how much we wiped, the grime refused to budge. Among the chaotic piles of antiques were vases, urns, iron tools, clothes, weapons, books, furniture, ornaments, trinkets, and much more.

We worked to separate the junk from the sellable items, disposed of anything clearly unnecessary, and set up a desk and bed so I could at least live in the space comfortably. It was an all-day effort.

Luckily, I didn’t have much else to do. If it had been Johann, balancing cleaning with his studies and training would’ve been a nightmare.

By the time we were done, I was covered in so much filth I looked like I’d crawled out of a sewer. Carla, meanwhile, looked like she’d aged 60 years, her hair tangled with cobwebs. It was bad enough that I voluntarily skipped dinner to avoid showing up at the table in such a state.

—

Speaking of Johann, it seemed he still hadn’t regained consciousness.

Father, Mother, Fiolette, and even Marduk must have been worried sick.

But the fact that he hadn’t woken up yet was troubling—it was far too long for just magical exhaustion. Something must’ve happened during that last moment when I glanced away…

Lost in thought, I eventually fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

—

〇

“Ronnie-sama.”

“—…”

“Ronnie-sama, Ronnie-sama!”

“…Hnn.”

I felt my body being shaken and reluctantly opened my eyes.

The unfamiliar ceiling of my new room greeted me, along with Carla, who was standing over me, her hands on my shoulders.

“Wake up, Ronnie-sama. It’s already morning.”

“…Hnnn, morning…?”

“It’s 6 a.m.”

I squinted toward the window to see the pale blue of the early morning sky just starting to brighten. A flock of small birds flitted across it.

“Geez, it’s way too early. After all the work I did yesterday, I should at least get to sleep in…”

As I tried to burrow back under the blanket, Carla, exasperated, reminded me:

“What are you talking about? Weren’t you the one who asked me to wake you early so you could go to the morning market?”

“…Oh!”

I shot out of bed, suddenly wide awake.

Sure enough, Carla was already dressed and ready to go.

“Thanks for waking me, Carla. But you must’ve been exhausted too. How did you manage to get up?”

“Carla always wakes up automatically after eight hours of sleep. But if I don’t get a full eight hours, even an earthquake wouldn’t wake me. By the way, I heard that I was the only one in the whole mansion who didn’t wake up during last night’s commotion.”

“…What a bizarre skill set you have.”

Not sure whether to be impressed or baffled, I threw on some clothes.

“Alright, let’s go. The items we sorted yesterday are already loaded on the cart, right?”

“Yes, they’re ready at the back entrance.”

“Good. Let’s move before we draw too much attention.”

“Y-you sound like you’re feeling guilty…”

As Carla and I descended the staircase, the extra flight a reminder of my room’s new location, we passed a few early-rising servants. They glanced at us briefly but said nothing, their indifference oddly comforting.

Just as we stepped into the backyard—

“Ronnie-oniisama?”

A voice I wasn’t expecting called out.

—

“Hmm?”

I turned to see none other than Fiolette-sama standing there.

Behind me, Carla jumped in surprise, peeking out from behind me and giving Fiolette a stiff, awkward bow.

“What are you doing out here at this hour?”

“…I should be asking you the same thing, Fiolette-sama. Why are you out here so early, and without an attendant?”

I glanced around the backyard. Neither Marduk nor any of the mansion’s servants were in sight.

“I couldn’t sleep well last night, so I thought a morning stroll might help.”

Her tone was somber, and she looked pale—clearly weighed down by Johann’s situation.

“I understand your concern, but I don’t think you need to worry so much. My father said he doesn’t intend to make a big deal out of this, remember?”

I said, trying to reassure her, but as my gaze wandered, it landed on the gaping hole in the mansion wall.

Fiolette immediately bowed her head deeply.

“No, this is an unforgivable mistake caused by one of our own. I don’t know exactly what transpired between Marduk and Johann-sama, but…”

“Really, it’s fine. I’m okay.”

“How could anyone not be troubled by a hole in their room’s wall?”

“…Well, okay, maybe saying I’m ‘not troubled’ is an exaggeration. But I don’t blame you or Marduk. Johann probably pushed things too far again, as he always does.”

(Not probably—he definitely did.)

“I also heard that some of your belongings were crushed. Surely there were irreplaceable items among them?”

“Nothing important. If it were Father’s room, things might have been more serious, but it’s just my room. Hahaha.”

“Ronnie-oniisama…”

Even as I laughed it off, Fiolette maintained her apologetic demeanor.

For a noblewoman to take such responsibility for her servants’ mistakes was unusual. Most would dismiss it as their servants’ problem, holding them fully accountable. In that sense, Fiolette was undoubtedly an exemplary leader.

—

Behind me, Carla tugged lightly on my sleeve.

“Um, Ronnie-sama, about the time…”

“Oh, right! My apologies, Fiolette-sama, but I have pressing matters to attend to.”

Carla’s reminder snapped me back to reality.

At the edge of the backyard, the cart we loaded with antiques was waiting, covered with a cloth. The town was a fair distance away, and hauling the cart all the way there would take some time. That’s why I had asked Carla to wake up early.

As I grabbed the cart’s handle, ready to leave, Fiolette called out.

“May I ask… what sort of business you have?”

“Oh, um, just a quick errand in town. I’m in kind of a hurry, so if you’ll excuse me—”

I started pulling the cart, with Carla helping to push from behind.

But then Fiolette quickly stepped toward us.

—

“Forgive me for being so forward, but… may I accompany you?”

“…Eh?!”