Last Gun Alchemist

Chapter 291: Orientation Week VIII

Lucy slowly rubbed her chin as she organized everything she had just heard inside her mind.

The more she thought about it...

The more she realized just how complicated life inside the Royal Academy actually was.

"So..."

She finally looked up at Ezra and Cyrus.

"In clubs... There’s still competition between students from every year. But inside factions...there isn’t any internal competition. They’re simply groups that coordinate and help one another."

She spoke thoughtfully, making sure she understood everything correctly.

Cyrus smiled.

"That’s right..."

He raised a finger.

"But there’s still another part."

Lucy blinked.

"There is?"

Cyrus nodded.

"There are actually two different kinds of competition happening inside most clubs."

He held up his raised finger.

"The first is the overall club competition. The second..."

He slowly raised another finger.

"...is the competition between members of the same club."

Lucy’s eyes widened slightly.

"The academy evaluates every student’s contribution at the end of each semester."

His expression became a little more serious.

"The evaluations are separated by year."

He raised his first finger.

"First-years."

Then another.

"Second-years."

Finally...

A third.

"And third-years."

He lowered his hand before continuing.

"The best-performing student from each year receives personal Academy Points."

He paused briefly.

"Then... The student with the highest overall performance among those three winners... receives double the points."

Lucy quietly listened.

Cyrus smiled.

"Of course... If your club performs poorly overall... even outstanding individual performances won’t earn as many points."

Ezra calmly continued where Cyrus stopped.

"This system encourages participation as well as forces every member to contribute."

He looked toward the bustling club district.

"Whether that competition strengthens the club... or destroys it from within... depends entirely on its members."

Cyrus snapped his fingers.

"Exactly."

He pointed toward Ezra.

"That’s precisely what I meant."

He leaned comfortably against the bench again.

"Factions work differently. Since they don’t need internal competition and are built around cooperation. Even families that openly dislike one another usually avoid joining the same faction."

He shrugged.

"Some factions won’t even accept students whose families have long-standing feuds."

Lucy frowned.

"So... They’re actually stricter than clubs?"

"In many ways."

Cyrus nodded.

"And... If you aren’t part of any faction... academy life becomes much harder."

His playful expression slowly disappeared.

His voice now carried genuine seriousness.

"Inside the Royal Academy... The two most valuable things are..."

He paused.

"Academy Points."

Then he continued.

"And your growth as an Alchemist."

The breeze quietly rustled the branches of the large umbrella tree above them.

Students continued walking through the Mix Arena around them.

Some laughed.

Others eagerly carried enrollment forms from different clubs.

Yet...

The atmosphere around the three of them had become noticeably quieter.

Cyrus continued speaking.

"If you want to improve your Cognis efficiently... you’ll need access to the Seclusion Rooms. You’ll also need resources like Alchemy materials as well as Practice opportunities and when the academy opens its monthly Alchemy Market... everything requires your own personal money."

Lucy slowly nodded.

"I understand that part. But... What does that have to do with factions?"

Cyrus sighed softly.

"Everything."

He answered honestly.

"If you refuse to join a faction... you become an easy target."

His tone remained calm.

As though he were merely stating a fact everyone already accepted.

"You can be isolated. Making no one to share any important hidden information with you. No tutoring. No help and no protection all together. If someone wants to make your academy life miserable... it becomes much easier."

Lucy unconsciously tightened her hands.

"...That’s..."

She lowered her voice.

"That’s actually frightening."

Cyrus simply nodded.

"It happens."

He didn’t exaggerate his words.

Nor did he sound emotional.

And that calmness somehow made the words feel even heavier.

Ezra finally spoke.

"Fortunately... We’re still within Orientation Week."

His expression remained unchanged.

"We aren’t under immediate pressure."

He looked toward the crowded recruitment booths.

"But... The clock is already moving."

Cyrus suddenly stretched both arms above his head.

His joints cracked lightly.

"Enough resting."

He clenched one fist dramatically.

"Time to continue searching for a club!"

He tried sounding energetic.

Unfortunately...

Only halfway through the sentence...

His shoulders drooped again.

"...Ah. So troublesome."

Ezra quietly watched him.

His expression remained as blank as ever.

"The day isn’t over."

He replied calmly.

"So, let’s continue searching."

Without waiting for another response...

He turned and immediately resumed walking through the Mix Arena.

Lucy hurriedly bowed toward Cyrus.

"Thank you."

She smiled warmly.

"Your explanation helped me understand much more."

Cyrus casually waved one hand.

"You’re welcome."

He watched Ezra and Lucy disappear into the crowd.

For several seconds...

He remained standing beneath the tree.

Then...

A small smile appeared.

"...Yeah. I’ll just follow them."

He nodded to himself.

"I still have absolutely no idea what club I want. So... I might as well ride someone else’s train until inspiration strikes."

Without another thought...

He jogged after the pair.

"Wait for me!"

The next few hours quietly passed.

Ezra with Lucy and Cyrus naturally separated from time to time while exploring different club buildings before meeting again afterward.

Ezra entered the Grey Craft Club with Lucy following behind him.

One of the most respected craftsmanship organizations inside the Royal Academy.

His purpose wasn’t to register.

He simply wanted to observe.

Meanwhile...

Cyrus wandered into the Sound Makers Club.

A club dedicated to music.

Just like Ezra...

He only intended to look around.

Nothing more.

The Sound Makers Club welcomed every visitor with cheerful enthusiasm.

Soft instrumental music drifted through the spacious hall while upperclassmen demonstrated different musical instruments to interested first-years.

Several senior members immediately recognized Cyrus.

After all...

He was still a Mainline heir of House Burnwick.

Although...

Unlike Ravenor and Sasha...

His reputation wasn’t nearly as overwhelming.

The greetings he received remained polite.

Respectful.

Yet noticeably ordinary.

Cyrus naturally noticed the difference.

He simply smiled.

One senior wearing a white and yellow armband approached him.

The armband clearly identified him as one of the club’s executive members.

He held an enrollment form toward Cyrus.

"Please have you finished considering joining our club."

His smile looked sincere.

"For someone who enjoys listening to music so much... you must also love creating it."

His eyes sparkled with genuine passion.

Several nearby members immediately nodded.

"Exactly."

"You’d fit perfectly here."

Cyrus quietly looked at the enrollment paper.

Then...

He smiled apologetically.

"I’m sorry."

He placed both hands together.

"I’ll pass."

He politely bowed before turning around.

The senior blinked.

"...That’s unfortunate."

He genuinely sounded disappointed.

Cyrus simply smiled before leaving.

As he reached the entrance...

Soft whispers drifted behind him.

"Funny."

One member chuckled.

"He actually refused."

Another quietly laughed.

"This junior really doesn’t know his place."

Someone immediately answered.

"You do realize that’s Cyrus Burnwick, right?"

"So?"

A third voice replied.

"Everyone knows he’s the average Mainline child. He’s nothing compared to his brother. Or his sister."

"Putting him beside those two is almost disrespectful."

"I even heard... he only entered the Royal Academy because he’s the Duke’s son. Not because of his own talent."

"Hehehe..."

Several members quietly laughed together.

Another girl serving at the registration table sighed.

"We were kind enough to recruit him. And he actually rejected us. The nerve."

She shook her head before smiling politely at the first-year standing in front of her.

"Now then...Where were we?"

The nervous first-year awkwardly forced a smile.

Not only him...

Several nearby freshmen had clearly overheard everything.

The atmosphere became strangely uncomfortable.

Outside...

Cyrus quietly stopped walking.

His hand rested on the doorframe.

A faint smile remained on his face.

"You know we can hear every word..."

He muttered softly to himself.

There wasn’t any sign of anger in his expression.

Nor disappointment.

Only quiet acceptance rested on his calm face.

He had already heard similar conversations like this throughout most of his life and he was already used to it, not that he even cared about the words that were usually said about him.

Eventually...

He simply continued walking.

Those words didn’t bother him, not even slightly.

At almost the same time...

Inside the Grey Craft Club...

A senior member confidently smiled at Ezra.

"It would benefit both you... and our club...if you decided to join us, Ezra Ashenlocke."

Ezra didn’t immediately answer.

Instead...

His eyes slowly moved across the room.

Every shelf.

Every displayed picture of invention.

Every piece of equipment.

Different mechanical prototypes rested inside glass display cases.

Several prestigious awards occupied an entire wall.

Framed photographs displayed former members who had gone on to become famous inventors, wealthy industrialists, and respected craftsmen throughout Britannia.

The club’s history spoke for itself.

The senior quietly waited.

Several moments passed.

Ezra still hadn’t spoken.

The senior’s smile gradually became awkward.

Eventually...

Ezra finally looked back at him.

"It would certainly benefit both of us."

His voice remained calm.

"But... I’ll pass."

Before anyone could persuade him further...

He politely nodded.

Then turned and walked out.

Lucy, who had been curiously admiring several inventions inside the hall, quickly noticed him leaving.

She immediately hurried after him.

Behind them...

Several senior members quietly sighed.

"...What a shame."

"I really thought we had a chance."

The moment Ezra stepped outside...

He met Cyrus.

The two boys looked at one another.

"So?"

Cyrus smiled helplessly.

"Any progress?"

Ezra shook his head once.

"None."

He answered honestly.

As they continued walking...

Ezra quietly reflected.

Every craftsmanship club I have entered carries too many expectations as well as too many eyes and too many emotions.

Competition itself isn’t the problem.

It’s everything surrounding it.

Politics.

Jealousy.

Internal conflict.

Point rankings and unnecessary arguments.

It would only become troublesome if I got myself involved in all of this.

He silently dismissed the thought.

The three continued walking.

For a while...

Nobody spoke.

Then suddenly...

A furious voice suddenly exploded from one of the nearby club buildings.

"GET OUT!"

The roar echoed across nearly half the Mix Arena.

Students instinctively turned.

Two terrified first-year boys came sprinting out of the building.

They nearly tripped over one another trying to escape.

Behind them...

An elderly professor stormed out while gripping a glass bottle filled with bubbling blue chemicals.

His white lab coat fluttered wildly behind him.

He adjusted his glasses with one hand before glaring toward the fleeing students.

"Those little brats! They think this club is some playground!"

He clicked his tongue loudly.

Upperclassmen from nearby clubs looked over.

Several couldn’t stop themselves from laughing awkwardly.

"...Professor Nine is at it again."

One second-year whispered.

Another chuckled.

"Other faculty supervisors barely visit their clubs. But Professor Nine practically lives inside his."

Light laughter spread throughout the surrounding booths.

Meanwhile...

The confused first-years stared at the strange scene.

A young second-year girl hurried out after the professor.

She carefully took the chemical bottle from his hand before anyone accidentally got hurt.

"Professor Nine."

She sighed helplessly.

"You can’t keep chasing first-years out like that."

"They know nothing."

Professor Nine snorted.

"They’re just wasting my time."

The young woman gently pulled him by the sleeve.

"You’re making another scene."

Still grumbling to himself...

Professor Nine allowed himself to be dragged back toward the club building.

Ezra quietly looked toward Cyrus.

At the exact same moment...

Cyrus looked toward Ezra.

Neither still spoke.

Yet...

The same thought appeared in both of their minds.

That club... looks far more interesting than the others.