Chapter 78: Six Minutes to Perfection!

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"No need! I'm already late for my exam—I have to go! See you later! Remember to wait for me at the front gate!"

As Alice's golden hair fluttered behind her, vanishing into the distance, Lemu couldn't help but admire her stamina.

She ran over 700 meters to get me here, and now she has to sprint all the way back? That's at least 1,500 meters before she even starts her test.

It was like she had signed up for an extra physical exam before her written one.

Though Alice had been panting hard, she was surprisingly fast. Even during their sprint across campus, her breathing had stayed steady.

But…

Lemu glanced at his wristband.

9:00 AM sharp.

She wasn't just almost late—she was definitely late. Unless she had teleportation powers, there was no way she'd make it on time.

Shrugging, he took his time strolling up to the third floor.

When he reached Room 303, he saw old Emick inside, handing out exam papers. The professor looked up, spotted Lemu through the window, and immediately waved him in with a deadpan expression.

"You're late. There's an empty seat in the back—hurry up and take it."

Lemu blinked, pointing at himself.

"Me?"

Do I even need to take this exam? And how did you forget me so quickly, dear mentor?

The students, sensing something unusual in the professor's tone, briefly glanced up from their desks.

And then, they couldn't look away.

Standing at the doorway was an otherworldly beauty—delicate features, a soft gaze, and strikingly ethereal blue hair. Her fair fingers pointed at herself in confusion, her slightly wide eyes making her look adorably clueless.

Emick remained completely serious, tapping the stack of papers in his hand.

"Yes, you. Echeverría, take a seat. If you don't get inside right now, I'll mark you as a late cheater and have you retake the entire course."

Lemu sighed.

Alright, this old man is messing with me on purpose.

He shrugged and sauntered to the back row, settling into an empty seat.

Just as he reached into his dimensional space to grab a pen, his gaze flickered to the ceiling.

Two security cameras.

Probably not a good idea to start pulling things out of thin air.

Instead, he tapped the shoulder of the student in front of him.

"Hey, can I borrow a pen? I forgot mine."

The student—a lanky guy with glasses and a studious demeanor—visibly flinched as if startled by Lemu's presence.

"Y-Yeah! No problem!"

In his rush, he nearly knocked over his own notebook before hastily handing over a black gel pen.

"Here, take it!"

"Thanks."

Lemu politely thanked him and offered a friendly smile.

The lanky guy hesitated for a moment before turning back, his face carrying a shy but genuine smile.

"My name is Chester Carter."

Then, with a curious tilt of his head, he asked, "Which department are you in? I don't think I've ever seen you before."

"Uh…"

Lemu blinked.

Which department?

He had never paid attention to things like that.

After a brief pause, he casually replied, "I guess… the Math Department?"

Close enough.

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Before long, the test papers were handed out.

A math exam.

Not difficult.

Lemu's pen flew across the page, effortlessly filling in the answers. In just six minutes, he was done—his handwriting a masterpiece of elegant, flowing script. The strokes carried the power and precision of medieval greatsword techniques, a style he had been experimenting with recently.

Ancient swordsmanship, after all, had its own kind of beauty.

As he finished the last stroke, he flicked his pen into the air. It spun 2,700 degrees before landing perfectly upright on the desk with a soft click.

Then, with a theatrical flourish, he brushed off imaginary dust from his paper and blew on it lightly.

Pure elegance.

Absolute perfection.

My test is done, baby!

Chester had been sneaking glances backward for a while, visibly anxious. Finally, he couldn't hold back and leaned in slightly, whispering, "You're done? Already?"

His voice was laced with disbelief.

This was ridiculous—he couldn't even copy that fast!

Lemu gave a modest smile. "It wasn't too bad."

Chester's expression twisted, as if he had just heard the biggest joke of the century.

"Not too bad"?

"Dude, this isn't just any test—this was made by that old witch, Montbatten—"

"No talking during the exam. Any more and I'll have to treat it as cheating."

A deep, authoritative voice cut through their conversation.

Chester flinched so hard he nearly dropped his pen.

Lemu turned to see old Emick standing right beside them.

When had he even walked over?

Shaking his head, Lemu smirked. "Alright, alright, don't scare him. Here's my test."

Handing in his paper, he followed Emick out of the classroom, leaving behind a room full of stunned students still struggling with their first few questions.

The hallway was quiet and empty.

Old Emick held the test paper, glancing over it with an appreciative nod. "Looks like you're in good shape lately. I estimated you'd need about twenty minutes to finish, even timed it with a stopwatch. But you only took six minutes and seventeen seconds."

Lemu chuckled internally.

Slime-speed handwriting isn't something normal people can comprehend.

With the Great Sage's assistance, he could—if necessary—write with dozens of hands at once. Finishing in ten seconds wasn't even out of the question.

He smirked. "You seem to be in a great mood today. First thing you do when we meet is trick me into taking a test. You're looking pretty energetic too."

Old Emick's smile deepened, his wrinkles relaxing as even his eyes crinkled with laughter.

"I am in a good mood, thanks to two things."

Raising a finger, he continued, "The first one has to do with you. Those papers you published—dozens of them—the quality was excellent. When I submitted them to apply for your course exemptions, the professors nearly jumped out of their seats. They all thought it was some PhD student's dissertation."

His voice carried a hint of amusement. "I told them, nope, just a little undergraduate trying to get out of some classes."

Emick burst into laughter, shaking his head. "You should've seen my old colleagues. They were freaking out, tripping over themselves trying to get you into their departments."

At the peak of his amusement, his wig shifted askew.

Casually, he pulled it off, revealing a thin layer of fine, soft hair beneath.

Lemu tilted his head, puzzled.

Wait a minute… You're not even bald. Why the wig?

Emick noticed the confusion and chuckled. "I was bald. But recently, there's this new hair restoration tonic—Shina Hair Regrowth Serum. I've been using it for a month, and now my hair's growing back."

Pleased, he patted his head. "Just a little longer, and I can toss the wig entirely. That's the second thing that's been making me happy."

Lemu blinked, holding back a laugh.

Oh? Well, what do you know… This also has to do with me.

Shina Hair Regrowth Serum was one of the Great Sage's patented formulas. He had partnered with manufacturers five months ago, launching it commercially. The brand's mascot was even a cute, sisterly character he had personally designed.

"By the way, I need a favor."

Lemu's thoughts drifted to Alice.

She was definitely late.

Would she be forced to retake the course?

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Bonus Chapter on 100 comment.

Bonus Chapter on 500 Power Stones.

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If you want to read 15+ chapters ahead and unpublished fanfics you can check out my patreon or just take a visit.

[P].[A].[T].[R].[E].[O].[N]

http://patreon.com/Kazuma_trash