Chapter 7: The Genius of Complexes

"Low-Magic Poor"—a general term for people born with an extremely low amount of magical power.

To be born as a Low-Magic Poor was a significant handicap in this world.

That was because this world’s technology relied on magic, rendering most essential tools unusable without it.

If you wanted fire for cooking, you had to use fire magic.

If you needed water for the toilet, water magic was essential.

In the primitive past, it’s said that mages of each element handled these tasks.

But technology advanced, and magical tools were invented that allowed you to use even non-primary-element spells—as long as you had magical power.

Thanks to this invention, anyone with magic could use any kind of spell… but—

Only the Low-Magic Poor couldn’t enjoy the fruits of this magical civilization.

A magically-powered flush toilet existed in this world—

But they had to call someone every time they finished using it.

Naturally, they were looked down upon and ridiculed often.

What’s more, magical talent was said to be hereditary.

Children born between two Low-Magic Poor parents had a high probability of being Low-Magic Poor themselves.

That’s why it wasn’t uncommon for marriage proposals to be refused purely because someone was Low-Magic Poor.

Just as nobles looked down on commoners, commoners mocked the Low-Magic Poor.

…And to make matters worse—

Even if the parents had magical power, the child didn’t necessarily inherit it.

Many Low-Magic Poor were born into magically gifted families.

And if a Low-Magic Poor happened to be born into a noble house, that spelled major trouble.

“I’m sorry, Juugi.”

There was a young man named Juugi.

He was born as the heir of a respectable noble family.

Blessed with handsome looks and a keen mind, he was raised with high expectations for his future.

“I can’t let you inherit the family name. It would be a scandal.”

“…”

But at the age of five, he was deemed an “F-Rank Poor” during his magical aptitude test.

It wasn’t something anyone could help—it was simply bad luck.

“If only you had scored even just an E-Rank…”

From that day on, everything changed for him.

Juugi was stripped of his position as heir and even lost his fiancée.

His younger brother was made the successor in his place and began receiving elite education.

…Since magical talent was hereditary, few noble ladies would want to marry someone like Juugi.

Making him heir would limit the family’s future prospects for marriage alliances.

In truth, it wasn’t uncommon for heirs to be replaced due to low magical power.

Juugi lost his place in the world simply because he lacked talent in magic.

“…I’m sorry, Juugi.”

But it wasn’t as if his parents mistreated him.

To nobles, honor is everything. They couldn’t allow a Low-Magic child like Juugi to inherit the family name, but—

“We can’t make you the heir, but we’ll find you a good match.”

“Don’t lose yourself. Grow up to be a fine man.”

…His parents still truly loved Juugi as their son.

They genuinely felt guilty for making him endure such hardship for the sake of the family’s reputation.

“If only you had been born a commoner, things would’ve been at least a little better.”

Indeed, being born Low-Magic meant facing discrimination whether noble or not.

But a Low-Magic Poor born into a noble family could even be mocked by their own servants and whispered about behind their back.

Some were even disowned by parents who cared too much about appearances.

But among commoners, they might just be assigned to “manual labor duty,” not exiled from the family altogether.

Among the common folk, appearances weren’t as important as fulfilling one’s role.

Manual labor wasn’t a desirable job—but if someone else was willing to do it, they’d be grateful.

…At the very least, it was better than noble society, where you were treated like you didn’t even exist.

“Why must I be treated like this?”

Juugi—who had grown up under such circumstances—was plagued with anguish.

Stripped of his birthright, mocked by the servants, and looked down on by his own younger brother.

The anger of “Why must I be hated just for being born with less magic?” burned through his mind.

“Father. If there were magic tools that even the Low-Magic could use… would people treat me better?”

“Hm?”

One day, Juugi asked his parents that question.

“Well… yes, I suppose they would.”

“If you could develop something like that, people would probably praise you for it.”

“I see.”

Currently, only those with E-Rank or higher magic were said to be able to use magical tools.

That’s why people with F-Rank or lower magic were mocked and discriminated against.

“Father, Mother—would you allow me to enroll in a university?”

“…Hmm.”

If tools could be created that even those with F- or G-Rank magic could use, maybe the discrimination would disappear.

And if Juugi made a name for himself as a researcher, it would be a boon for the family as well.

“The research institute values merit. I hear they don’t discriminate based on magical power.”

“That’s not bad. Not bad at all.”

With that thought in mind, Juugi made his choice—
As a form of resistance against the discrimination he faced,

He resolved to devote himself to researching new magical tools that required no magical power.

---

From that point on, Juugi threw himself into his studies with a life-or-death intensity.

Fortunately, he had a natural gift for learning, possessing a brilliance that let him understand ten things from hearing just one.

He never forgot anything he heard even once, had a sharp mind for numbers, and could perform complex mental calculations with ease.

Thanks to these talents, he entered the Royal University as the top-ranked, scholarship-awarded student.

“Juugi, I’d like you to take on this research.”

“Leave it to me, Professor.”

Even during his time at university, Juugi continued to shine.

He was entrusted with numerous projects by the professors and published a series of groundbreaking papers.

“Juugi really is something.”

“He’s a national treasure.”

Because of his excellence, Juugi’s name quickly became known throughout the university.

University was a special environment—here, neither status nor magical power mattered.

What defined one’s worth was only how brilliant a researcher they were.

“After graduation, join the National Research Institute. We’ll prepare a lab for you.”

“It would be an honor, Professor.”

With such support behind him, Juugi was granted his own lab after graduation.

Though Low-Magic, he was from a distinguished family and excelled academically. He was even granted the position of associate professor at the university.

Thus, with both the freedom and the qualifications, he finally began his long-awaited research into magical tools that even those with low magical power could use.

‘Juugi, I must say—I’m not sure about that theme of yours.’

‘What’s the point, really?’

However, the moment he revealed his topic, he was met with criticism from many of his peers.

‘Even if it works, it’ll only benefit the Low-Magic Poor.’

‘Sure, a few people might buy it, but is it really cost-effective?’

It wasn’t that people thought his research would fail.

Rather, because only the Low-Magic Poor would benefit from it, they deemed it a low priority.

‘Juugi, listen closely. Even if there are people who can’t use magical tools, the country won’t suffer for it.’

‘…’

‘There are plenty of jobs that don’t require magical tools, after all.’

When a research project is funded by the government, the most important question is always: What profit will it bring if it succeeds?

What benefits would the results yield?

What is the likelihood of success?

Only after weighing all those factors does the research budget get approved.

‘With your brilliant mind, can’t you focus on something more productive?’

‘It’s a waste of time. At least try working on something like optimizing magical power usage.’

So if they say, “Even if it succeeds, it has no value,”—there’s nothing more devastating for a researcher to hear.

‘I can’t approve funding for that kind of research.’

‘If you’re paying out of your own pocket, then go ahead and do as you like.’

The institute valued merit above all.

While Juugi continued working on useful and relevant research, everyone viewed him favorably.

‘Such a disappointment. I never thought you were such a dull man.’

But the moment they heard his chosen theme—developing magical tools for the Low-Magic Poor—

Even the professor who had once looked at him with trust and admiration now stared at him with bitter disappointment.

Still, Juugi didn’t give up.

Even if the nation had no use for it, he did.

He wanted to build a world where people weren’t mocked just for having low magical power.

That obsession became his driving force.

The breakthrough came by chance.

“A power source… other than magical energy.”

If magic wasn’t enough, he just had to make up for it with another kind of energy.

Juugi began searching for a non-magical energy source.

And the thing that caught his attention—was burning stone.

It was known as an excellent fuel, occasionally found in the mountains of the Salipa region.

“Could this substitute for fire magic…?”

Juugi used burning stone to create a tool that could produce fire.

However, it didn’t work well—on rainy days, it was unusable, and sometimes it would take over an hour just to light a flame.

It was far from being a viable substitute for fire magic.

“A substitute for water magic, then…”

Next, Juugi made a device that could store water inside a tube.

…But that alone was just a canteen. No different from carrying water around normally.

So Juugi began wondering—could the water be compressed?

“How can water be made to shrink…? For now, let’s try heating it.”

He proceeded to heat the water.

It was already known that boiling water caused its volume to decrease.

Of course, that was simply due to evaporation—but Juugi didn’t understand that yet.

Still, through all his trial and error…

“…The canteen exploded after I boiled the water?”

He realized something—
He had discovered steam.

---

"This is going to be incredible."

The energy of steam was overwhelming.

As long as there was fuel, it could move large objects without using any magic.

Realizing the potential of steam, Juugi devoted himself to further research.

"This is an astounding power, far beyond human strength."

Steam had a property: it expanded when heated and contracted when cooled.

By harnessing this, it was possible to generate immense horsepower.

...Juugi applied this principle to drawing water.

"I did it! It works!"

Several years passed since the discovery of steam.

Eventually, he developed a powerful steam-powered water pump that operated without any magic.

It was a hyper-efficient pumping mechanism that could never have been achieved through human strength alone.

Believing it to be the invention of the century, Juugi confidently presented his research results—

"You don't need to go through all that trouble. Just use water magic."

Building a steam engine required intricate circuits.

It also demanded the help of earth-element magicians for metalwork, and transporting fuel came with added costs.

And in the end, all that effort only achieved something a water-controlling magic tool could do in a matter of seconds.

"So this is what Juugi spent years researching?"

"You only ever shone back when we were students, Juugi."

No one paid attention to the pump he had created, and he was thrown out of the exhibition.