Chapter 1110 – #264_Fruits of Research – DeepL
#1104
1.
The holidays are over.
My face is glowing from the long rest, but it’s time to get back to work.
“The Hessian Society is now on track.”
Albireo, the matriarch of the Hessian Society, flipped through her papers, tucking her long black hair behind her ear.
Her demeanor was more friendly than usual after the dramatic reconciliation at Obon.
Even if his direct demeanor hasn’t changed much, he’s in a more relaxed mood.
“At this rate, I’d say we’ve exceeded our goal by 500%.”
“It looks like it.”
Partnerships with numerous minor societies, a firmly established position as a magical university, and a steady stream of S-level faculty and researchers.
Especially considering that the Hesed Society is being called a Hesed ‘university’ at all, it could be argued that the Society is doing exactly what it envisioned when it was founded.
But no matter how good things are going, we can’t forget where we started.
This is the starting line.
“Mr. Xiu’s original plan was to join the Society, right?”
“That’s right. The idea was to scatter the partnerships like bait, gathering small societies, and when they had some weight, they would transfer.”
“So is it going well?”
“We didn’t ask them to transfer because we thought it was premature.”
It’s a coven, if you will.
I pride myself on my orthodoxy, and I’m not willing to go under the table.
It’s the same reason why, even though there are large organizations like the Emerald Tablet and the Truth and Justice Society, there are countless small societies that have not been merged and have preserved their own history.
Xiu’s goal was to unite them under the banner of the Hessian Society and build a power structure like that of Duke Cagliostro or Duke Erelim.
The motivation for this goal was cemented by the events of Dorothy.
You need power to protect your loved ones.
With Lydia’s death and the prospect of a long term rule by the Hexenacht hardliners, it was even more necessary.
Worst case scenario, they might have to prepare for war. ….
“I assume you have something in mind?”
“My thoughts?”
“Xiu-kun is competent, for now.”
Albireo tapped his fingers on the table.
His tone was that of a man dealing with a child who didn’t know what he was doing, but that was old news.
Xiu had proven himself to be more than capable of being an earl, and more than capable of being president.
“The Hesed Society has laid a stable foundation as a magical university, so it’s time to show some results.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re going to start pushing for research contracts in earnest.”
“Sounds like you and I are on the same page.”
Albireo smirked, as if proud of himself.
A quick clarification here.
What is a research contract?
In the real world, a research contract is when a national government, corporation, municipality, or other organization commissions research from a research institute or university.
In Gehenna, it is similar in nature, and it is literally a “service” that is commissioned by a specific witch, society, or organization.
Here’s a simple example.
Let’s say Witch A’s research goal is to make the best eel sushi.
She knows how to clean eels, has a special eel sauce made with centuries-old soy sauce, and can cook fine rice.
However, he is not confident about the vinegar that goes into the rice.
Let’s say A decides to change the “vinegar” to make a higher-quality eel sushi.
It would take him a long time to do it by himself.
So, he visits the vinegar witch next door, B, and asks for a ‘research service’.
“I’m trying to make vinegar for eel sushi, so please help me.
B then sends several vinegar samples, referring to the eel bowl recipe that A sent her.
Since B’s specialty is vinegar, he doesn’t have to worry as much as A does.
It’s a win-win situation for A, as he can easily solve his problem for money, and B can make money while doing his research.
Amelia’s consulting work on a “horsepower gray water production facility” for a forget-me-nots garden can be considered one of her research projects.
This is an example of outsourcing to individuals, but there are many other variations, such as academia to individuals, individuals to academia, and academia to academia.
Depending on the size of the research, grants can range from tens of millions of dollars to tens of billions of dollars.
So if the flower of research is the paper, the sweet fruit is the research contract.
“Right now, the Hessian Society is an orchard that is optimally structured to receive large research contracts.”
“That’s right,” says Albireo, “because large research contracts rarely end in a one-quote.”
Albireo was right, large-scale work (often interdisciplinary) is often not covered by a single outsourcing.
This shouldn’t be too hard to understand.
To illustrate, let’s say that Society A is doing a study on making sushi platters.
It’s obvious that a platter of sushi is much more labor intensive than making a single eel sushi.
Therefore, a distributed request is made to B for egg sushi, C for salmon sushi, and D for octopus sushi.
Aside from the difficulty of managing A’s service, the schedule was often stretched because the service was scattered among various societies and individuals.
Isn’t that the nature of research?
It was even worse because it was not uncommon for the subcontractor to re-subcontract.
But the Hessian Society can fix that.
Never before in the history of the Gehenna witches has there been such a multidisciplinary and diverse group of people.
“We’re going to set up a consortium of smaller societies that we’ve partnered with. It’s a kind of laboratory for contracting out.”
“That’s a pretty good idea.”
“We’ve already standardized the curriculum once, haven’t we? It’ll be much more organized than the haphazard way we’ve been doing research contracts.
It’s going to be more efficient, it’s going to get things done faster, and it’s going to be attractive to the people who are commissioning the research because they’re going to have one less thing to worry about.”
In turn, the Hessian Society will have access to a large, flexible, and sustainable funding stream.
Not to mention the bait and switch for the partnering societies.
Once they see how well Hesed’s lab can handle the work, they’ll be eager to outsource.
This, in turn, would be tied to the Hesed Society’s track record and serve as the grease for the smooth transition of the smaller societies.
“It’s not quite enough, Mr. Xiu.”
But this is idealism.
Albireo pointed out that business doesn’t always run as smoothly as one might imagine.
“Right now, the Hesed Society is recognized for its value as a university, but it hasn’t proven its research capabilities yet, has it? There are already a lot of well-tested research centers in the Jin Li Jin Ming Academy or the Castle.”
Exactly.
How could the research capabilities of a new institute that hasn’t even been established yet be proven?
But Xiu had that in mind.
“So I’m going to do a big project for showmanship first, a kind of advertisement.”
Xiu slapped a piece of paper down in front of Albireo, who tilted his head in a “will it work?” kind of way.
It was a specimen of a research request.
“It’s not officially up on City Hall yet, but it will be soon.”
“Where did you get this?”
“You know, the power of connections.”
The request for proposal was submitted to the immigration office.
Before I could skim the details, Albireo’s eyes widened as if he realized something.
“That’s right, refurbishment of the ‘gate’.”
2.
The Gate is Duke Ketter’s masterpiece and the backbone of the city.
It’s a great piece of dimensional magic that allows for the change of day and night, seasons, and weather while maintaining a pocket of space separate from this world.
The gate has functioned for over 600 years without incident, but since Duke Kether’s death, it has been pushed to its limits.
The number of days of downtime for maintenance has increased with each passing year, gas mileage has declined, and there have been frequent incidents of kernel punctures in Gehenna.
Despite this obvious dysfunction, the witches had no way to repair the gates.
At best, they’ve been pissing on it in a series of makeshift “repairs.
But Xiu is different.
She has hacked the entirety of Hexenacht’s gates, albeit with less power and sophistication than Gehenna’s gates.
Besides, wasn’t the first magnetic spell the key to interfering with the gate?
If he can use his experience to successfully carry out the repair project, there’s no better advertisement.
“Mr. President, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you!”
“I see you’re looking cheerful today, Count.”
“Good to see you all, it was easy without me, wasn’t it?”
The researchers in the Department of Fundamentals greeted Xiu with cheerful expressions.
Even the overworked researchers had gotten a good rest for about three days, and their spirits were high.
“What did you say that made me feel so bad….”
“Do you think it’s because they’re not being used?”
“That’s right, I think it’s strangely addictive, and nowadays, if I don’t pull an all-nighter, I feel like I’ve spent the day dishonestly.”
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
You apply.
“Oh, that’s good to hear.”
Yeah.
That’s the mindset of a scholar.
Xiu brushed her conscience aside, feeling pleased with the group of researchers who were slowly building a bond.
“Anyway, I’m going to start a new experiment today. I got a job from the immigration office to repair the gate.”
“What…?”
“You’ll be vigil with me for a while.”
There was a chilling silence.
A vigil.
Not exactly something a sleep-deprived witch would dread.
There’s even romance in it.
The kind of romance that comes from chatting with your colleagues in a darkened laboratory, giggling together, occasionally drinking alcohol, and falling into a state of narcissism as you watch the sun rise while working diligently.
But Dr. Xin Xiu’s vigil is a little different.
It’s a mental stunt that skims off the grease of leisure, relaxation, and small talk.
Moreover, as a research assistant who is constantly disappointed by the researchers, she becomes a demon without blood or tears when it comes to conferences.
“Crackle, crackle….”
“Oh my God….”
“Ohhh….”
Some gritted their teeth, some shivered, some sighed, some froze in place.
Xiu chalked it up to the exaggerated banter of researchers he’d gotten to know a little better.
“The brief gave us six years, but we’re going to cut it down a bit.”
“Uh, how much?”
Xiu smirked and held up two fingers.
“Two, two years?”
“Nope. Two weeks.”
One of the researchers collapsed with a thud.
