Shen reached the university sometime after noon.
The walk had done more for him than he expected. The heaviness left behind by last night's events hadn't completely disappeared, but the cool Backlund air had at least cleared his head.
By the time the university's familiar stone buildings emerged through the pale fog, he no longer felt as though he might turn around and crawl back into bed.
Students crossed the grounds in groups, carrying books and folders between buildings, while several carriages waited near the main road.
Shen followed the path toward the university library, expecting to find Erica somewhere inside before reporting to Mr. Weber.
The moment he stepped through the entrance, however, thoughts of finding Erica vanished.
Shen stopped near the doorway and stared.
Boxes.
They were everywhere. Some were stacked against the walls, others had been pushed beneath sorting tables, and several more were being carried through another entrance by two exhausted-looking workers.
Books already covered most of the long tables in the central area, separated into uneven piles with handwritten notes beside them, while several carts stood nearby under loads that made Shen question how much faith the librarians had in their wheels.
Erica had told him that the Church of Steam and Machinery had delivered a large collection.
Apparently, their definitions of large were very different.
Did they bring us a collection, or did every scholar in the Church donate their entire life's worth of studying at the same time?
"Hey."
Shen didn't react at first.
"Hey, are you looking for someone?"
Shen turned toward the front desk, where a middle-aged woman watched him with tired amusement. Only then did he realize how long he had been standing at the entrance staring at the disaster.
He cleared his throat and approached her. "I'm looking for Mr. Weber. My name is Shen Akivil. I was told to report to him today."
"Ah, Miss Halloway's friend." Recognition immediately appeared on the woman's face as she pointed deeper into the library. "You'll find him near the western shelves. Look for the man with heavy dark circles under his eyes who seems angry at everything around him."
Shen followed her finger and quickly spotted an older man standing behind one of the tables. Even from this distance, the dark circles beneath his eyes were obvious, making Shen wonder when the man had last enjoyed a proper night's sleep.
He was currently comparing several books against an open ledger, and every few moments his gaze swept toward the workers around him with barely concealed irritation.
"That description is surprisingly specific."
The woman chuckled, and Shen thanked her before heading in that direction.
The closer he came, the more he understood what she meant. Mr. Weber had neatly combed graying hair and thin-framed glasses, and despite the chaos surrounding him, his clothes remained remarkably orderly. His expression was another matter entirely.
Shen briefly wondered whether Erica had sent him to work for a librarian or a prison warden.
"Mr. Weber?"
The older man finished writing something in the ledger before raising his head. "Yes? Do you need something?"
"My name is Shen Akivil. Erica Halloway told me to report to you."
Mr. Weber's tired expression sharpened immediately. "You're that young man Miss Halloway recommended?"
"Ah... yes, that's me."
The librarian looked him over for a moment before giving a quiet hum.
"Humph. You picked quite an unfortunate day to start working here."
Shen glanced at the surrounding boxes. "I was beginning to think that as well."
A trace of amusement crossed Mr. Weber's face, but it disappeared so quickly that Shen wondered whether he'd imagined it.
Mr. Weber closed the ledger and gestured for Shen to follow him. "Come. If Miss Halloway was correct about you, you'll learn quickly while working. We don't have enough time today for me to explain everything twice."
There was something about the way he said if Miss Halloway was correct that made Shen feel as though Erica's reputation was currently being used as collateral.
Mr. Weber led him through the ordinary collection and explained how the library divided its books. The basic arrangement wasn't difficult, but there were far more details beneath it than Shen had expected.
Larger subjects were divided into smaller sections, journals followed their own system, and certain books had to be checked against the catalog before anyone could decide where they belonged.
The Church's delivery made the process even more troublesome.
"We aren't simply adding everything they sent," Mr. Weber explained as he opened one of the crates. "Some are newer editions of books already in our collection. When that's the case, the old copy has to be located and checked before we decide whether to keep it in circulation, move it into storage, or replace it."
He pulled out two thick mechanical engineering texts and handed them to Shen. "These belong in mechanical studies. Find the section and compare their publication information with the copies already there. Don't remove anything yet. Bring the older editions back to me first."
Shen looked at the books, then toward the distant shelves. "And if I get lost?"
Mr. Weber pushed his glasses higher. "Then I'll know Miss Halloway was exaggerating about you."
Shen stared at him.
The older man calmly stared back.
Whether it was deliberate provocation or simply Mr. Weber's personality, Shen couldn't tell. Either way, he tucked the books beneath his arm and went to work.
Finding the correct section took several minutes the first time. The second trip was faster, and after a few more, he no longer needed to stop at every aisle to check the signs.
The work itself wasn't particularly difficult. It was simply tedious.
Open a box, check the list, identify the subject, compare editions, retrieve the older copy, bring it back, take the replacement, shelve it, and repeat.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Before long, Shen began wondering whether the books were somehow multiplying.
He returned to the central area carrying three outdated volumes just as two workers entered with another crate.
"There's more?"
One of them wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "Don't ask."
The other laughed as they headed back outside. "There are six more."
"SIX!?"
"Five!" someone shouted from the entrance.
Shen's expression brightened for half a second.
"We just brought one in!"
His hope immediately died.
He rubbed his forehead.
Twenty soli... Should I have asked for more?
A chuckle came from behind him.
Shen turned and found Mr. Weber standing there with his ledger, clearly enjoying his suffering.
"You find something amusing?" Shen asked dejectedly, a hint of frustration slipping into his voice.
"Miss Halloway told me you were unusually enthusiastic about working in a library." Mr. Weber glanced toward the incoming crates. "Well, how is it? Still enjoying working here?"
"I was imagining the part where I just cleaned the shelves and actually got to read some books."
"You've been here less than three hours."
"And I've already touched more books than I intended to read this month."
Mr. Weber laughed, some of the coldness finally leaving his exhausted face. "Come. Your next stack is waiting."
Shen sighed and followed him.
The afternoon disappeared beneath paper, dust, ink, and an increasingly unreasonable number of books.
He made mistakes, of course. More than once, he confused an engineering journal with a similarly named technical series, and another time he carried the wrong outdated edition halfway across the library before realizing it.
"Akivil! Are you blind? Check the title properly before putting it on the cart!"
"Yes, yes, sorry, sir. I just noticed it!"
"If you noticed it, why is it on the wrong cart?"
Shen looked at the book in his hand, then at the cart.
"...I noticed it too late."
Mr. Weber looked as though another dark circle had just appeared beneath his eyes.
Shen hurriedly corrected the mistake.
Fortunately, he rarely made the same mistake again. Once he understood the system behind something, remembering it became considerably easier, and his trips between the shelves grew faster as the afternoon went on.
When Mr. Weber finally allowed everyone a short break, Shen dropped into an empty chair and stretched his aching shoulders.
A young man who had spent most of the afternoon moving crates sat down across from him and immediately lowered his forehead onto the table.
Shen watched him for a moment. "Hey, are you alive?"
The man raised one hand without lifting his head. "Unfortunately, yes."
"I didn't know library work could be this tiring."
That finally made the man look at him. "First day?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"You still look hopeful."
Shen glanced toward the entrance just as another worker appeared carrying a box, followed immediately by another.
What the fuck? Are they trying to turn this place into the Royal Library?
"I think that's gone now."
The man burst out laughing before dropping his head back onto the table.
Their break ended far too quickly.
By evening, Shen had abandoned any hope of reading for himself. The staff had made progress, but enough books remained that the central area still looked like a warehouse.
Mr. Weber finally closed his ledger. "That's enough for today. We'll continue tomorrow."
Shen looked at the remaining crates. "How long is this going to take?"
"Two more days if nothing unexpected happens."
"And if something unexpected does happen?"
Mr. Weber gave him a flat look. "Don't ask questions like that unless you want to spend the next several days here."
Shen decided that was probably wise.
He collected his coat and had nearly reached the entrance when Mr. Weber called after him.
"Mr. Akivil."
Shen looked back.
"You did well for your first afternoon."
A smug smile immediately appeared on Shen's face. "So Erica didn't exaggerate about me after all?"
"If you can come back tomorrow, maybe I can answer that."
"Ah, you're difficult to please."
"Humph."
Shen laughed and waved goodbye before stepping outside.
So ended his first day at the university library without him reading a single page for himself.
.....
The next morning, the boxes were waiting for him.
Shen stopped just inside the entrance and stared at them.
"You again."
"Do you really like working here so much that you've already started talking to the boxes?"
Shen turned toward the front desk. The woman from yesterday was watching him with a smile.
"No. I'm here for the money and the books I actually want to study."
"Oh, really? You're quite a strange young man." Her smile widened. "Although we already have enough strange people working here, so one more won't hurt."
Oi, oi. Lady, since when did wanting to learn become strange?
Shen lampooned internally and decided not to argue.
The second day was considerably easier. Mr. Weber handed him a list, pointed toward several carts, and sent him to work without another explanation.
Shen spent most of the morning moving between the same sections he had struggled to find the day before.
He discovered shelves with irritating numbering, areas students seemed incapable of leaving organized, and books large enough to make him wonder whether their authors had been paid according to weight.
He also discovered dust.
A truly unreasonable amount of dust.
When he pulled one neglected volume from an older shelf, a gray cloud immediately rose into his face.
Shen jerked backward, coughing.
"Cough, cough... Ugh, wonderful. How long has it been since this was cleaned?"
A few hours later, while he was returning several books, a nervous-looking student approached him with a piece of paper in hand.
"Excuse me, sir. Do you know where the structural mechanics books are? I've been looking for almost twenty minutes."
Shen thought for a moment before pointing toward the stairs. "Second floor, western side. Go past mathematics and turn into the engineering section. Structural mechanics should be about halfway down."
Relief appeared on the student's face. "Thank you! I have a lecture in half an hour."
He hurried away.
Shen watched him disappear upstairs before returning to his cart.
Yesterday, he probably would've needed several minutes to find that section himself.
The third day went faster still.
Books came out of boxes, older editions came off shelves, records were checked and corrected, and carts rolled endlessly between sections. Little by little, the chaos left behind by the Church's delivery disappeared.
Late that afternoon, Shen slid the last book from his cart into place and turned around.
The cart was empty.
No one was approaching with another crate.
He waited for a few minutes.
Still nothing.
"Yes... finally."
"What are you celebrating for?"
Shen nearly jumped before turning toward Mr. Weber. "Must you keep appearing behind me like a ghost?"
The older librarian ignored his displeased expression and examined the newly organized shelves. "We're finished with the Church's delivery."
Shen released a long breath, a peaceful smile appearing on his face. "I never thought hearing those words would make me this happy."
"Really?" Mr. Weber suddenly looked far too pleased. "Then enjoy it."
Shen narrowed his eyes.
Why did that sound like something terrible was about to happen?
Mr. Weber pointed over his shoulder with his thumb toward the end of the aisle.
Four carts filled with returned books were waiting there.
Shen's smile disappeared.
After three days of fighting the Church's seemingly endless collection, the sight of four more carts full of books made him feel as though his soul was about to leave his body.
Mr. Weber walked away without saying another word.
For one moment, Shen could almost imagine the books laughing creepily at him.
"Hehehe... hahaha..."
Go ahead. Laugh. Apparently, this is my life now.
He grabbed the first cart with a dark expression and went back to work.
Once the Church's delivery was dealt with, Shen finally began learning what an ordinary day in the library looked like.
Every borrowed book had to be recorded by hand. Names, titles, dates, expected returns—everything went into ledgers, and every returned book had to be checked against those records.
If something disappeared, there was no computer or electronic database waiting to tell them where it had gone.
Sometimes the answer was simply stupidity.
One afternoon, Shen spent nearly twenty minutes searching for a missing mathematics book before finding it tucked between two volumes of poetry.
He pulled it free and stared at the title.
"Why is this book here?"
The woman from the front desk happened to be passing behind him. She glanced at the mathematics book and then at the poetry section.
She sighed. "Don't think too much about it. This is normal."
"Normal?"
"Yes. It's the students," she said with the tired resignation of someone who had seen this countless times before. "Some of them put books back wherever they want after reading them. That's why you always need to check the shelves carefully when you're organizing."
Shen looked toward the reading area, where dozens of students sat quietly studying with the innocence of people who had definitely never placed books in the wrong section.
He decided he didn't want to know.
Days passed, and Shen gained a new respect for the people keeping the place running. Shelves needed cleaning, damaged books needed attention, returns needed sorting, records had to remain accurate, and somehow thousands of books had to stay where thousands of students expected to find them.
I'm not even a proper librarian, and I'm starting to respect these people.
Without computers, scanners, or automatic records, a surprisingly large amount of the library depended on people simply doing their jobs correctly.
Fortunately, the work eventually stopped consuming his entire day.
That was when Shen finally began taking advantage of the reason he had wanted the job in the first place.
He started with the gaps in his education. Lin Qui's memories were useful, but knowledge from Earth couldn't tell him everything about Loen's history, geography, politics, or the countless details everyone born in this world took for granted.
First, he started with mathematics, which was considerably easier.
His computer engineering studies on Earth had required plenty of it, and although some areas had grown rusty, relearning them was much easier than starting from nothing.
One evening, Shen finished a problem he hadn't touched in years and stared at his answer with satisfaction.
"So I haven't completely returned everything I learned to my professors."
The student sitting at the next table looked over.
Shen noticed the strange look.
"Ugh... don't mind me."
The student slowly returned to his book.
Shen did the same.
After brushing up on mathematics, languages followed.
He started with Intisian and Feysac before moving into Lenburg. Ancient Feysac, Hermes, and Ancient Hermes naturally interested him more because of their connection to mysticism, but interest was one thing and recklessness was another.
The last time he had experimented with something he barely understood, he had entered the Spirit World, seen Sefirah Castle, been dragged through a kaleidoscopic portal, and awakened with part of his memory missing.
That was enough of a lesson.
.....
Days gradually became weeks.
One morning, nearly a month after Shen had started working there, he arrived to find Mr. Weber behind the front desk with a cup of tea and an expression that promised someone had already tested his patience.
"Good morning. You look like someone ruined your day before it even started."
"You can thank Professor Harrington for that." Mr. Weber set his tea aside and tapped three entries in the open ledger. "Three overdue books. Yesterday, the man stood right where you are and insisted he'd already returned every one of them."
Shen leaned over the desk. "Maybe someone forgot to record them?"
"I wasted an hour checking exactly that." Mr. Weber removed his glasses and rubbed between his eyes. "Nothing. Unless those books grew legs and walked back onto the shelves themselves, Professor Harrington still has them."
"Maybe they did grow legs and walk somewhere."
Mr. Weber slowly looked up.
Shen pressed his lips together.
Well, this is a world of mysteries. I wouldn't completely dismiss it.
"Don't give me another problem to worry about, Mr. Akivil. I already have enough without imagining books running around the university." Mr. Weber put his glasses back on and waved him away. "Go make yourself useful. The western reading area needs attention."
Shen removed his coat. "Almost a month working here, and you're still ordering me around before I even get a chance to sit down."
"You can sit when you're finished."
"Now I understand why Erica was so happy to hand me over to you."
"Miss Halloway has excellent judgment." Mr. Weber lifted his tea again. "She gave me a surprisingly competent sla—"
He stopped and cleared his throat.
"Ahem. A very competent worker."
Shen stared at him.
You were definitely about to say slave, weren't you?
Mr. Weber calmly drank his tea.
Shen had discovered several things about the older librarian during the past month. Mr. Weber could complain and grumble about overdue books for an astonishing amount of time, considered professors who ignored return dates to be his personal enemies, and regarded folding the corner of a library book as something bordering on vandalism.
Shen had once watched him discover a folded corner in a returned book.
He still felt sorry for whoever had borrowed it.
The students had become familiar faces as well.
One afternoon, while Shen was organizing several history books, two young women approached him.
"Excuse me, Librarian?"
Shen turned toward them.
For a moment, he wondered who they were talking to.
Me?
Before he could correct them, one of the students continued. "Do you know if the library has Economic Development of the Loen Kingdom After the Corn Act? A professor recommended it, but we couldn't find it."
Shen recognized the title immediately. "It was returned yesterday. Check the economic history section, third aisle from the end. If it hasn't been shelved yet, it'll probably still be on the return cart beside the front desk."
Her face brightened. "Thank you!"
The two hurried away.
Shen remained where he was for a moment.
Me, a librarian? Do I really look like one?
He shook his head and went back to shelving.
It wasn't the last time it happened.
As the weeks passed, students increasingly came directly to him when they needed help. Mr. Weber stopped hovering over his work, and even the other staff had begun casually leaving difficult sections for him without explanation.
Then, one afternoon, Shen was helping another student locate a book when a familiar warmth stirred inside him.
His hand paused against the shelf.
The sensation lasted only a moment, but he recognized it immediately.
His potion had digested a little.
Shen glanced at the student happily leaving with the book he had found, then toward the front desk, where Mr. Weber was busy with his own work and hadn't bothered checking on him once that afternoon.
So this counts.
A grin appeared on his face.
Apparently, being mistaken for a librarian wasn't such a bad thing after all.
His studies continued alongside the job. By then, he'd already filled many of the troublesome gaps in Shen Akivil's education, brushed the rust from much of Lin Qui's mathematical knowledge, and made enough progress with the languages to manage simple reading, writing, and conversations.
History had become one of his larger interests.
It was while organizing a collection of historical documents that he found something he certainly hadn't expected.
A yellowed piece of paper slipped from between two preserved documents.
Shen caught it before it reached the floor and froze when he saw the writing.
Chinese.
He stared at it in shock for several seconds.
Why the hell is there Chinese here?
Then he read the first few lines.
His surprise gradually faded, replaced by calm recognition and a hint of amusement.
Well, hello there, Great Emperor Roselle.
It was one of Roselle's diary pages—or, more accurately, one of Huang Tao's diary pages.
Shen read through it with growing anticipation.
That anticipation lasted less than a minute.
The entry was about one of Roselle's escapades involving a noble lady.
Shen stared at the page.
Of course it is.
Other people in this world would probably have treated the page like an undecipherable historical treasure. To Shen, it was Huang Tao writing about his private life in Chinese.
Still...
His eyes remained on the handwriting.
Couldn't I just fabricate these?
The idea wasn't completely ridiculous.
Almost nobody here could read Chinese. If he learned to imitate Roselle's handwriting and wrote something believable, he could probably manufacture diary pages and sell them at Beyonder gatherings.
Shen imagined himself handing over a convincing fake and receiving a pleasant stack of money.
Then, in his imagination, the buyer suddenly turned out to be a Seer and performed a divination.
The next image in Shen's mind was someone standing outside his apartment with a wicked smile and a knife in hand.
Never mind. With my luck, that could definitely happen.
He carefully returned the page to where it belonged.
He wasn't poor enough to gamble his life for a few extra pounds.
Not yet, anyway.
.....
His family had noticed his new routine as well. They knew Erica had helped him find work at the university library, but Shen hadn't told them much about the arrangement.
One evening, Arthur finally brought it up over dinner.
"How's the job going, Shen?"
"It's alright now," Shen replied. "The first three days were terrible. The Church of Steam and Machinery sent so many books that I started wondering whether they'd emptied half their libraries onto us."
Elara laughed. "I thought you wanted to work around books."
"My dear sister, I wanted to read them. Carrying, sorting, recording, cleaning, and shelving hundreds of them was supposed to be the side work."
"Sounds like you earned your pay, then." Arthur took another bite before casually asking, "How much are they giving you, anyway?"
Shen had been waiting for someone to ask that.
He continued eating as though it were nothing important. "Oh, just twenty soli a week."
Arthur looked up in surprise. "Twenty soli?"
"Twenty."
Shen couldn't completely hide the smugness in his voice. It wasn't a fortune, especially compared to the money currently hidden in his room, but this was different. He was actually earning it himself.
Elara looked impressed. "For the library job? That's better than I expected."
"Better than I expected too, considering they originally offered five."
Sera paused. "Then how did it become twenty?"
"Oh, Erica helped with that."
Elara's interest was immediate. "What did she do?"
"She decided five wasn't enough for someone she'd recommended, so she asked them for thirty."
Elara laughed. "Wow, she went from five to thirty?"
"Exactly."
Sera looked between them. "Then how did they settle on twenty?"
"They refused thirty, obviously, but Erica somehow dragged them all the way up to twenty." Shen shook his head at the memory. "You should've seen her. She looked happier about the negotiation than I did about getting the job."
Sera laughed. "I didn't know Erica was that good at negotiating."
"Neither did I."
Arthur smiled before looking at Shen. "She really went out of her way for you."
"Ah... yeah. She did."
"Then remember that. Someone willing to help you like that is a good friend. Be sure to return the favor when she needs you."
Shen nodded and reached for another piece of bread. "I know. I already thanked her and told her I owe her one."
"Good."
The conversation soon wandered toward Elara and Sera's own studies, leaving Shen free from further interrogation about his surprisingly profitable library job.
.....
One afternoon near the end of the month, Shen returned the last few books on his cart and checked the section he'd been assigned.
Nothing remained.
He headed toward the front desk, where Mr. Weber was bent over a ledger.
"I've finished everything for today."
"The western shelves?"
"Cleaned and organized. I also put away the returns from after lunch."
Mr. Weber glanced past him toward the library.
Shen immediately gave him a deadpan look. "Don't even think about it. I've been waiting all day to continue my reading."
"I was going to tell you that you're finished."
"Oh, really?"
Mr. Weber returned to his ledger.
Shen narrowed his eyes.
Right. I don't buy that.
Before the older man could suddenly remember another task, Shen turned and headed toward the shelves.
He found the history book he'd left unfinished the previous day exactly where he remembered and carried it toward his usual table near the windows.
Outside, the afternoon light struggled through Backlund's gray haze, while inside, lamps had already begun filling the library with their warm glow.
Shen settled into his seat and opened the book to the marked page.
Considering how much he had been reading lately just to fill the gaps in his knowledge, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.
If I'd drunk the Reader potion, maybe it would've digested by now, he lampooned inwardly.
Around him came the familiar rustling of paper, scratching of pens, and occasional whispers from students who hadn't yet attracted Mr. Weber's attention.
With his work finally behind him, Shen continued from where he had stopped yesterday and gradually lost himself in the history recorded across the pages.