Amelia Merrygold's research building was located in the northeast annex of Trinity Academy.
There was no covered corridor leading to the annex, so Siwoo stepped inside while getting drenched by the cold rain.
Amelia Merrygold.
Even though she was just called an associate professor, anyone could tell something was off just by looking at this research building.
She wasn't a full professor or even a chief professor, yet she had exclusive use of an entire building that could easily house five people.
"What can you do about it."
She was probably just a noble, or something like that.
It wasn't really any of Siwoo's business anyway.
The only problem was that the thought of cleaning this ridiculously huge building all by himself already had him sighing.
He hung his raincoat in the entryway and grabbed cleaning supplies from the storage room.
-Creaaaak!
Unlike the lavish main academy building, the annex was a modest wooden structure.
Because it was so old, every step he took made the floors creak.
After climbing the stairs to the second floor and passing through a large door, he entered Amelia's workshop, which looked at least 20 pyeong in size.
The moment he stepped in, a sharp cigarette scent hit him.
Filling the vast space were glass bottles containing liquids that emitted mysterious glows, magic books, scrolls made of parchment, shelves lined with assorted reagents neatly tagged and sorted, dreamcatchers hanging in place of curtains by the windows, and candles illuminating the darkened research building here and there.
It felt like someone had mixed an old-school occult cafe with a medieval alchemist's lab.
Pretty authentic, too—if this were in a place like Hongdae, it would've drawn a cult following.
In the dim center of the workshop sat Amelia.
One hand propping her chin, the other holding a cigarette, she stared off with eyes lost in deep thought.
She was so absorbed that she hadn't even noticed Siwoo come in.
Damn, she's gorgeous.
Even with that completely unguarded expression, like she wasn't expecting company, there wasn't a single flaw.
Siwoo fiddled with his cleaning tools and poked around in front of her.
He didn't want to start cleaning without a word and end up getting nagged at—that would just piss him off.
By the way, the cigarettes Amelia smoked were a modern brand called Lucky Strike.
As a long-standing label dating back to 1847, it was a favorite among smoking witches.
"Ah...."
Only when Siwoo shuffled right up to her, about ten steps away, did Amelia blankly open her mouth.
Her previously distant, hazy eyes sharpened with intelligence as they refocused.
"Associate Professor Amelia, I'm here to help tidy up the research building. Where should I start?"
Siwoo asked, bowing as low as he could.
He'd felt it the moment he entered, but turning this place livable would take at least twelve hours, not three.
Right now, the best strategy was to play nice and minimize his punishment.
"When did you get here?"
"Just arrived a moment ago."
Amelia glanced at him with eyes that naturally looked down on him.
She rolled up her sleeves to keep them ink-free and pointed here and there with her quill from her slender wrist, issuing orders.
"Sort the magic books by category. Don't dust the shelves—wipe them with a wet cloth. Books with leather covers go over there, and file the papers in order on the bookshelf. Don't touch anything on the table."
"Got it."
"Do it quietly so you don't disturb me. And also...."
She rattled off more instructions before waving him off dismissively without even looking.
Siwoo stifled a sigh and started cleaning from the corner of the research building, bucket and broom in hand.
He'd cleaned her workshop before, but he'd never seen it this messy.
It looked like someone had deliberately trashed it.
For a while, the only sounds in the workshop were the scratch of Amelia's quill and the quiet noises of Siwoo's cleaning.
Cleaning was miserable enough without having to hold his breath to avoid making noise...
It was so pitiful he felt like crying.
2.
About an hour later.
Just as he finished sorting the first bookshelf, Amelia's voice rang out.
"Caretaker."
"Yes."
What's her problem now?
Siwoo forced his frowning face into a smile and turned to her.
She moved her lips calmly, her expression unreadable.
"Come here."
Caught off guard by the summons, Siwoo blankly pointed at himself.
"Me? You mean me?"
Amelia, who hated wishy-washy behavior, seemed annoyed by his reaction.
Her eyebrow twitched slightly.
For reference, that body language meant her hysteria gauge was around 25%. Over 50% and he'd get an earful, so he needed to hurry.
"I'll finish this and come over."
"Forget it."
Siwoo fumbled to wring out his rag in the bucket.
Amelia shook her head and snapped her fingers.
-Snap!
A wave of mana rippled through the research building, strong enough for even Siwoo to feel.
And then every object floated up lightly.
The items danced through the air before slotting perfectly into their places without a single error.
Telekinesis was basic magic, but it still showcased Amelia's mastery.
Interfering with hundreds of objects at once without any tangles or disorder.
The thick dust clumped into balls in midair and dropped straight into the bucket, finishing the cleaning.
The workshop transformed into something so spotless it could've passed for a semiconductor cleanroom.
Siwoo watched the whole spectacle with a mix of awe and emptiness.
No wonder they called her a "baron."
Having glimpsed the greatness of magic, Siwoo couldn't help but feel reverence, pushing aside his old grudges.
He crossed the now-pristine research building and stood beside Amelia.
Maybe because of what happened that morning, her pale hand drew his attention more than usual.
No.
Getting hard here would make me less than human.
With that resolve alone, Siwoo suppressed the urge surging up.
"Sit."
At her chin gesture, a spare chair slid over smoothly.
What was with this sudden whimsy?
Siwoo tensed up at Amelia's out-of-character behavior.
She tapped a cigarette out from her pack.
As she inhaled, a tiny flame sparked at the tip.
"Fuu...."
She swiveled her chair to face him.
Crossing her legs casually, she offered him the cigarette pack.
Her skirt hem flipped up, revealing a glimpse of her pale thigh folding softly—Siwoo quickly looked away.
"Want one?"
Cigarettes.
Modern cigarettes were incredibly rare in Gehenna.
At least for a former slave like him.
Even while slaving away, he couldn't quit nicotine entirely—he'd occasionally share one with Takasho.
His body screamed for nicotine and tar, but Siwoo barely ignored it.
Honestly, it scared him a little.
Kindness from Amelia, of all people?
He'd sooner drink an opened Welch's left on a bench.
"N-No, I'm good. Thank you."
"Suit yourself."
Amelia didn't push.
She set the pack back on the desk and savored her smoke with obvious relish.
In the twilight of the research building, her profile reflected in the desk lamp looked like it'd leaped out of a photoshoot.
She stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.
Leaving half of something that precious.
Siwoo took deep breaths, angling for some secondhand smoke, but squeezed his eyes shut instead.
This isn't right.
Whatever her scheme, falling for a seductive witch's tricks would leave him with nothing but humiliation.
Wasn't there a famous saying?
Be a hungry human, not a full pig.
As if reading his mind, Amelia spoke at just the right moment.
"Hungry?"
"No, I'm fine."
A plate floated over to the rigidly disciplined Siwoo like a new recruit.
One landed in front of him, another in front of Amelia.
The lids lifted like cloches, revealing slices of cake.
It was Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte, or Black Forest cake, made with cherry brandy, fresh cream, and chocolate.
Layers of chocolate sponge filled with whipped cream, cherries candied to preserve their texture, topped with sweet cherry brandy syrup for the finishing touch.
Amelia took a fork and cut into hers.
Siwoo felt a massive shock.
Anyone who's done military service would get it, but in slave life, the thing you craved most wasn't meat—it was sugar.
In Gehenna, where sugar and honey fetched high prices, sweets weren't something a slave could just have.
His sensitized nose caught the cake's aroma, and saliva flooded his mouth.
"Go ahead."
"Is it really okay?"
What was pride compared to this?
He couldn't hold back anymore.
Like Amelia, he forked a piece.
The hefty weight on the fork promised sweetness.
"Ah...."
It was exquisite.
Cherry aroma so dizzyingly ecstatic.
Moist cream caressing his tongue, chocolate's deep sweetness.
Every taste bud, starved for sweetness, erupted in joyful screams.
"Haa....!"
Forgetting Amelia was there, Siwoo devoured it greedily.
The palm-sized slice vanished in a minute, not a crumb left.
"S-Sorry."
His reason had flown out the window for a bit.
Seeing Amelia's odd expression snapped him back.
She licked cream off her lips and slid her portion onto his plate.
"Have this too if it's not enough."
"You sure?"
Amelia nodded slightly.
This isn't Amelia!
Something's wrong!
Despite his inner alarm, his tongue and stomach craved more sweet cake.
After polishing off the extra slice, Siwoo looked at her.
It suddenly felt embarrassing.
Because Amelia had stared at him the whole time he ate everything.
"Thank you so much."
But why was Amelia acting like this all of a sudden?
After five years of torment with no results, had she switched to appeasement?
If she thought a cake could make up for all that misery, she was way off base.
Vicious witch! I'll take what I can get.
As he recalled Takasho's advice and entertained devious thoughts,
Amelia spoke.
"Do you know how that cake was made?"
In that soft, patient tone she used in class with the twins.
An ominous chill ran down Siwoo's spine.