Chapter 6: The Helper For Freshmen
Someone called me; it was Lorewell, the student with red hair and eyes.
“Good morning, Senior!”
“......?”
I was finally hallucinating. Or sleepwalking.
A student of the Academy wouldn’t be calling me their senior since I wasn’t even enrolled. But you never know. I pointed to myself and cocked my head.
“Were you speaking to me?”
“We owe you a lot for last time, Senior.”
“I’m not your senior. I don’t even attend here.”
“But you just stepped out of the Fire Magic lab at this early hour.”
Uh, hm. What should I say? He was misunderstanding big time.
I’d been introducing myself to others saying, “I’m Professor Hasfeldt’s personal grad assistant,” as a joke, but only when Hasfeldt was present at the time of the exchange.