Research Life of a New Professor at Magic University - Chapter 36

On Friday morning, I was checking the materials before the practical class.
Instead of asking Arien, I’m doing this myself because she is busy writing a project proposal.

The Alchemist’s Guild sponsors projects every early summer.
Although it is divided by branch and has slight differences, you can estimate the timing and scale roughly.
So, alchemy workshops often open project proposals a little earlier or later.

The Rainplan Alchemy Workshop was no exception.
If one is not confident in submitting to the Guild, or if the research is more focused on commercialization, they prefer workshops over the Guild’s.

Or if research funding is urgently needed.

The research funding for projects is in the range of 40-60 gold pieces per year.
They review the interim reports submitted every 6 months to decide whether to continue.

“So the 50 gold pieces from Miss Claire…”

“Pardon?”

“No, never mind.”

This gives you an idea of how large the reward Lacton offered for a single sword is.
They are paying the annual support fund from a workshop that dominates the entire region upfront.

The Alchemist’s Guild and Alchemy workshops tend to recover the research funds they spend well.
If you take on a good project, you can earn dozens of times the amount paid.
It’s basically hiring university professors as contract researchers.

But can Earl Lacton recover the investment?
At least the very least, the Earl seems to think so.
He must have thought it was worth it if he could clarify the line of succession by using my name.

‘Still, isn’t that too careless?’

Admittedly, an earldom is probably worth over several hundred gold pieces, so it’s not an unreasonable judgment.
But the question is whether putting me forward, who has no connection to the family, will really help against the Duke’s family.

Moreover, he seems to have completely ruled out the possibility that I might disappear without a trace.
I know I have an impeccable character and am a model citizen,
But isn’t it too careless for the head of a noble family?

Well, I don’t need to worry about it.
What happens to the Lacton family is not my business since I will do my job for the money.
The Earl may not want me to create a 50 gold sword with the 50 gold payment for using me, but let’s consider it the price he paid.

“How’s it going?”

“I don’t know. I’m writing at least.”

“Let me see.”

I briefly checked the project proposal Arien was writing.
I instructed her to write it as practice since she will write many more proposals and reports.
Depending on the content, I may have her rewrite it entirely from the beginning.
That’s why I told her to hurry.

The writing seemed decent, but there were still many parts I wasn’t satisfied with.
Not so much the content itself but the way she was presenting it.

“This part shouldn’t be written like this.”

“What’s the problem?”

“It’s too vague. Just saying ‘improve the health and welfare of the citizens’ won’t resonate.
It’s better to specify concretely how this will make money.”

“Isn’t that too blatant?”

Of course, we don’t need to be that commercial-minded either.
And proposals that only talk about money won’t get selected because the state and church review them.

‘I wonder if Count Rainplan does the review instead of the King…’

“But we still need to change it.”

“How?”

“It’s simple. You used ‘minor stamina potion’ as an example, but that’s not good.”

“Isn’t that what we experimented with?”

“That’s why you need to change how you phrase it. Don’t write that you want to make a ‘minor stamina potion.’ Give a strong implication that it represents all ‘potions’ in general.”

“It’s not entirely inaccurate, but…”

“If you want to be more specific, you could write ‘potions containing emulsifiers,’ but…
Actually, it’s better not to.”

‘What would be good?’

“How about writing something like ‘potions that commonly include emulsifiers?’”

“But don’t almost all potions include emulsifiers? The papers and textbooks Professor gave me say so.”

“Exactly!”

Arien made a bit of a confused expression.
Elves are definitely weak in areas like this.

“We want to give the impression that it can be used in as many applications as possible. But just vaguely writing ‘potion’ makes it sound like pie in the sky.”

“But isn’t it okay if it’s just what we confirmed?”

“At the proposal stage, we can’t make any definitive claims.
If we could, a paper would already have been published.”

“Um…so?”

“Most people without alchemy knowledge don’t even know what an emulsifier is. Seeing that term in a proposal, they’ll assume it’s some special ingredient. So saying ‘potions containing emulsifiers’ makes it sound much more specialized and like there’s a concrete example.”

Arien still didn’t seem to fully understand.

“But there isn’t, is there? In the recipes, emulsifiers are used in almost every potion.”

“Think about it. You studied at Magic University for 4 years and graduated. But you didn’t know about things like emulsifiers until recently when you read papers and textbooks, right?”

“…You’re right. I only learned it recently when reading materials for my major.”

“Even among people who have studied a decent amount, those not specializing in alchemy won’t know. Then how many at the workshop would know?”

Arien still looked skeptical and objected.

“But it’s an ‘alchemy’ workshop, right? Aren’t they experts?”

“They don’t even properly teach manufacturing methods to apprentices. Novice alchemists can’t understand if you phrase things slightly ambiguously.”

“But I feel like experts at a place like that would be able to catch wordplay like this…”

Arien’s concern wasn’t entirely wrong.
There would likely be many doctorate-level alchemists there.
But she was overlooking something.

“Do you think those people have that much free time?”

“Pardon?”

“The experts there are busy with their own research and supervising other projects. Only a few people look closely at new project solicitations. And of that small number, only a tiny fraction scrutinizes new proposals thoroughly.”

This may be the most important thing for us, but not for the workshop.
Moreover, it’s well known that exceptional researchers don’t necessarily have business acumen.

Only a few researchers have also had business in their background
That small number of people can’t meticulously review all those project proposals.

“The Alchemist’s Guild isn’t even a group of alchemy experts. How about the workshop then? There are plenty who don’t know anything about alchemy. If those people see it, they might think, ‘Wow, this can be used for everything? This could make money.'”

“Do you think such basic wordplay would work?”

“Doing exactly what I said would be difficult; you’d have to phrase it more indirectly. For example, absorption root isn’t usually used in mana potions, right? But there are cases where it is used.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Of course. It’s an obsolete recipe. But we can write that it’s ‘widely used in stamina potions and occasionally used in mana potions as well.'”

“Isn’t that deception…”

“But we’re not lying.”

Arien reluctantly nodded.
It seemed like she still had much to say but was already tired.

“And this is obvious, but why did you write this part like that? It absolutely cannot come across like ‘we just accidentally discovered it.'”

“But isn’t that what happened?”

“Still, we can’t write that! We have to give the impression that we had a clear intention based on evidence. So, imply that we used absorption root knowing emulsifiers are key to potion stability.”

For project proposals, reports, papers, presentations, and everything else, it’s better to write as if all ideas and experiments were intentional.

“But can ‘absorption root’ really represent all emulsifiers?”

“Of course not. But how would we know that? We didn’t write that ‘absorption root represents all emulsifiers.’ We just said we used absorption root as a ‘representative of emulsifiers.'”

“…I’ll revise that part…Should I write that since absorption root has these effects, we expect other emulsifiers to have similar effects?”

“Don’t write ‘will have.’ Use phrasing like ‘we expect it to have’ instead. Oh, and it would be good to include some paper references here to emphasize that it has similar properties to other emulsifiers as supporting evidence.”

“You want me to find and read through each of those? I don’t have that much time.”

“Just skim through and confirm there’s a relevant paragraph mentioning it. You don’t actually have to read the rest.”

Arien seemed a bit uncomfortable hearing this. However, she will have to write project proposals and reports going forward.
Considering that humans, not elves, will be reading them, it’s better to tell her the reality than just say what she wants to hear.

“Also, to narrow it down, shouldn’t I write the materials are plant-based? Many emulsifiers are animal or mineral-based.”

“Right. It seems obvious when you think about it, but it’s easy to overlook if not explicitly mentioned.”

“You think they wouldn’t know that? I wrote it in the previous section.”

“Those people can’t scrutinize every single proposal while reading it. It’s a skill to ambiguously phrase things to obscure those blind spots. Or you can give the impression that details are omitted because it’s proprietary information.”

It appears to narrow things down while actually not narrowing at all.
It implies that highly specific conditions will be extended elsewhere.
These details can be omitted from a research standpoint, but they’re crucial for winning funding.

It comes across as professional, practical, concrete, and detailed, regardless of the actual substance.

“And instead of writing ‘potion to recover stamina,’ write ‘enhances vitality.'”

“Recover vitality?”

“No, ‘enhances’ vitality.”

“But you just said to be more specific…”

“Then emphasize that it could be used for ‘stamina recovery potions’ next.”

“Why bother?”

The most important thing is this!

“It’s the top-selling potion category.”

“Stamina potions? Not health potions?”

“Yes. Even with all the different varieties, dosages, and ingredients sold separately, they sell well.”

“Why is that? Are there that many situations where stamina becomes an issue in battle?”

Hmm…she has no idea.

“It’s used more in households than for combat.”

“Unexpected. Is farmwork that strenuous?”

“Even counterfeit products find buyers with appropriate demand. Some families fall apart due to adverse effects from poor quality products.”

She has a completely clueless expression, even with the hints.
Oh well.

“That’s unfortunate.”

“So providing quality potions at good prices is a way to save countless households.”

“I see. At least there’s fulfillment in writing about this part.”

…I probably don’t need to reveal that reality to her.
I’ll likely be rewriting most of it anyway.
Let’s just prepare for class.

*

“Heh…”

Thinking about observing the students’ experiments in today’s class made me chuckle involuntarily.
It was a small laugh, but Arien didn’t miss it.

“…Why are you laughing like that?”

“Me? I wasn’t doing anything.”

In today’s experiment, there was no trap but rather a shortcut.
If they realize it, the solution will be ridiculously easy.
If not, they’ll likely struggle for hours.
I can imagine their dejected expressions when I reveal the solution!

I can’t wait!

Oops! Did I laugh out loud again?
With a bit of an awkward feeling, I glanced at Arien.
She was shaking her head slowly while looking at me.

“Ah… Please learn kindness, Professor.”

From my perspective, it was completely unfair.
I prepared a shortcut so the students wouldn’t struggle, yet I got this kind of response.