Little bit info dump. You may skims over the details if you wish. It is necessary support for next chapter 'fun'. hehe 

Chapter 5: Accounting and pencil 

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Location: Istonniel state of Otinao Kingdom

1st perspective: James (Duras Istonniel)  

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Tacks of flimsy paper heavily land on my table.

“Mother, this is child labor… No. Slavery!” I whimper to act more like a rebellious child.

“Slavery? You’re getting paid. I’m merely putting your brain to good use, Gurus” My mother, Margarete, winks at me and returns to her desk. The curse of intelligence. For the past 12 months, I have unwittingly become a human calculator.

I decided laying low isn’t going to succour me. To preserve my chastity from being politically sold to another noble house, I must scarcely escape from being a househusband. The ill fate of a male within the noble house, like my high viscount family, is arranged married.

Ending up with unknown women (s), who may regard their husbands like toys, is out of the question. Additionally, the grave difficulty of conceiving a child increase proportionally to the power of the parent. Powerful individuals, like Tassia, need more 'times'. The servant informs me that Tassia, my mother’s elder sister, went at it almost every night with Coson, my father, for a year, to become impregnated with my sister.

Needless to say, most nobles are strong people. Not only my personal freedom is at stake, but my life is in acute danger of dying by ‘snu-snu’. For this reason, at 6 months old, I decided to speak my first words. When they got me a teacher, I started to merely teach her instead.

I back up my profound knowledge by reading tons of books from our private library and proving I naturally have photographic memories with the needed help of the computer inside my brain. In this manner, nobody questions my wisdom and intelligence. They assumed I was a child prodigy.

At two years old, I promptly began exploring the strange magic of this world. Compare to my dear sister, whose magical talent lies in explosiveness and is suitable for fierce combat, mine is slowed. However, the remarkable versatility of my supernatural power allows me to manipulate an object with high precision, control objects' thermodynamics, mixing and separate elements from substances. For example, I can separate hydrogen, and oxygen from water, dissolve copper, create simple chemical compounds, moulding, and levitating certain objects. I have somewhat become an alchemist, a manipulator of atoms. However, I merely can’t just create Uranium 235 if I wish to blow up the nation.

I can solely produce substances with these elements; oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon, calcium, and phosphorus. Oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen are the easiest to conjure and constitute reactions. Other questionable elements are: Calcium, Phosphorus, Sulphur, Potassium, Sodium, Chlorine, Magnesium, Iron, Fluorine, Zinc , Strontium, Iodine, Copper, Manganese and Molybdenum. Basically, all the elementals that made up the human body. 

The law of equivalence exchange stands truth in this world. Making a fireball consist of a mixture of carbon, and oxygen mixed with hydrogen for superior power. These needed resources comes from within the body. It genuinely seems that people don’t shit or product waste as much here. But you ask, how do they store it?

That’s where the fundamental theory of mana comes in. Mana is a fatty substance within the blood. I theory that almost all the things we digest get broken down and turns into mana. It compresses substances down and reduces their weight. 1 cm cubic of pure mana may contain something equivalent to 5 kg of coal or pure carbon. Besides storing resources, mana can be converted into kinetic energy.

At any rate, it adequately explains the earth, wind, water, fire, and thunder magic that people can typically use in this world. It goes without saying, there are specific mutations and exceptions. That’s for another day.

As I display my extreme arithmetic ability, Margarete instantly set me into her executive office to help out with the official paperwork exactly as planned. In this place, I further prove myself by progressively introducing an innovative method of executing bookkeeping. Representing the viscountess of a primarily agricultural region, Margarete maintains control of many merchant and farmer reports, and taxes. One day, I had enough of reading junk and inadequate reports. Accordingly, I introduce single-entry and double-entry bookkeeping systems. It is purely a way of recording business transactions like profit, income, sales, payment, purchases…

Before, all merchants and farmers demonstrated their way of recording their transactions, which is time-consuming for everyone and leaves lots of room for tax evasion. Currently, the single and double-entry system allows everyone to efficiently record and properly report transactions. This has increased economic growth within our region since it's implementation because merchants expended less time completing reports, and more selling. More taxes for us, as there is less room to commit ‘errors.’

On the other side, my mother ground me inside the office doing accounting work. However, being here allows me to gather valuable pieces of information about the economics and states of practiced agriculture in this region. The work isn’t complex, just tedious. Using the excel program inside my head, the calculation is simple as breathing. Scribbling using a feather pen and ink is troublesome. As a result, I am about to reinvent the graphite pencil.

I promptly write down the last few specific numbers and dip my pen back into the ink bottle. I glanced slyly at Margarete as she also ceased her work when she gently stretches. Her pale red hair is neatly tight up and combs. Tassia traditionally spent most of her time maintaining public order and curbing demons' hoard from the adjacent forest. Leaving Margarete and Coson, to oversee the estate and management works. Albeit I am handling some of its responsibility now.

Margarete is tough on her dear children. She constantly nudges me to the limits and doesn't allow my genius to be wasted, but spoils me when necessary. A short time ago, I got myself into my little garden behind the yard to investigate the crops and plants of this region, testing out certain manure, compost, and fertilizer for my plans.

Getting up, I eagerly grasped the stacks of completed documents. I reach for her table and drop it down politely.

“Done”

“Oh, already. You’re eager to do paperwork. Let me get some more,” she giggles while pretending to get more from the drawers.

“Fine~, but I have a request.”

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“Oh, I’m joking. Request?”. To her surprise, I agree. I seize a newly made wooden pencil out of my pocket and shuffle a piece of paper in front of her.

“I call this a pencil. Just use it as a pen.”

Perplex at the unusual stick, Margarete takes it and attentively examines it closely before she almost plunges it into the ink bottle.

“Wait, no. You don’t need ink. Just write with it.”

“You don’t need ink?”

I nod. Curiously, she carefully presses the graphite tip on the page and drags it. Margarete raises her eyes brown and continues to draw some distinctive shapes and scribble numbers. She continues writing swifter and faster as if she is trying to determine the limit of the pencil. Ultimately, it didn’t run out. Yet.

“Gurus, where did you get this?” she looks at me with amazement.

“From my little garden”

“So, you made it.”

“Yeah, but before that, keep using until the tip worn out. Press it down harder.”

Margarete exerts more pressure on the black tip and trails it furiously. A small grain of graphite breaks from the tips until finally the tips are eaten up by friction. I pull out a sharpener made out of casted iron and bigger than the modernised version. I gently steal the pencil from her hands. She looks up at me confused as she observes me insert the pencil inside the sharper and start twisting. Short flat chunks of wood and black dust fall down the table. When satisfy, I stop and reveal to her a pristine tip.

“Just where did you…” I raise my hand to make her wait.

“One more thing.” I took out an eraser made of natural rubber and a mixture of magical sulphur. I place it in front of her.

“It’s called an eraser. It does what it’s called. Rub it over the black mark.” She sighs and follows my instruction. Sparsely she drags it over the writing before pushing it harder. Naturally, the drawing was rubbed off. Margarete continuously stroked it until she got up and stares at me intensely.

“So care to explain…”

“Just one more thing”

“There's more?!” She exclaims and frowns slightly. Before I chuckled.

“Joking mother. It started when I play with some ores and rock…”So I began spitting out bullshits like politicians. Graphite extracts from a coal mine in the south. Earth mages discovered it when separating minerals and metamorphic rocks compound. They didn’t find any particular use other then obtaining a good lubricant for carriage wheels.

Rubber is carefully extracted from certain trees that grew near the village in the east that I play with in my private garden.

Sulphur is found similar to graphite, near the surface as yellow crystal within caves and inactive volcanoes. Some local religions in the east ignite it on fire because it looks glamorous. Others thought it was some sort of medicine fume. Sulphur is consumed with rubber for vulcanisation or strengthening to make it into a usable eraser.

“So, that’s it. This is the paper that specifies the method of production.” Flipping through the pages, Margarete dwells in deep thoughts. I gently place a few stacks of pencils, sharpeners, and rubber on the desk. Thermodynamics manipulations allow me to buy past many processing stages of pressure control and heating. Although it undoubtedly derived lots of energy, one day I almost fainted from exhausting too much mana. In the end, within two months, I barely manage to generate a modest amount.

“It may… be possible.” My mother mumbled. I fled the room and entrust it to her. Margarete is reliable. She and my father will most likely utilize my samples as unique gifts for grand dukes and other nobles to spread the practical interest in pencil and gather potential investors.

The extraordinary versatility of the pencil is enormous. With some slight adjustment and necessary modification, a pencil can draw on various surfaces. Be it paper, wood, certain rocks, or walls? They can carry it anywhere, unlike hideous quill pens. These will stimulate the economy and reputation of my noble house to the specific point where my future plans can get moving. Mayhap I should also introduce calculus. That’s for another day.

To my obliviousness, this is one of my gravest mistakes. I gather too much attention for my own good. ;)

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