My Working Conditions Are Way Too Exploitative

“[Seyi]. Make extra potions by tomorrow.”

“…………Huh?”

My name was Seyi Falt.

I was one of the court alchemists working in the royal palace.

I skimmed through the order sheet handed to me by the director.

“…This says to make 1,000 potions by tomorrow, doesn’t it?”

“That’s right. That’s your job, isn’t it?”

Unlike civilian alchemists, we court alchemists produced potions, magic tools, and medicines used in the palace.

In particular, I was in charge of potion production…

“No… um, 1,000 bottles? I still haven’t finished the current requests. And by tomorrow… that’s obviously impossible.”

“This much should be easy for you. You’re the youngest court alchemist ever, the genius mage who is the disciple of the legendary [Nicholas Flamel].”

Saying that, the director left.

“Genius mage… huh.”

I was twenty years old this year. Five years ago, at fifteen, I passed the court alchemist exam.

The exam required over ten years of service under a master mage.

Most people graduated school and then apprenticed under a mage, so they took the test after turning twenty.

Among them, I passed at fifteen and was praised as a once-in-a-generation prodigy.

…But honestly, I only passed the exam to escape my master’s hellish training.

The legendary mage, Nicholas Flamel.

Developer of the complete recovery medicine , establisher of the basic theory of artificial life , and creator of low-cost mass production methods for potions…

A living legend with tremendous achievements.

But to me, he was just a worthless bum.

He was also a court alchemist, but his laziness was unbelievable.

After cramming all his techniques and knowledge into me, he shoved nearly all his work onto me! What a horrible person!

At fifteen, I made a decision. I was sick of this slave-like life! I would get certified and become a court alchemist!

If I became equal to my master (setting aside skill level differences), I wouldn’t have to work as his disciple anymore.

So I took the exam and passed instantly! My life as a court alchemist began.

I thought I wouldn’t have to work like a slave anymore… unfortunately, I never imagined a new workplace would start another slave life…

My seniors bullied me, and the director forced about five times a normal person’s workload onto me.

Everyone seemed jealous of the young and talented me. Their favorite line was, “You’re a genius, so you can do at least this much.”

“Yeah, I can, but still…”

Late at night, I finished the additional potion order and headed toward my home on the outskirts of the royal capital.

“Seriously, that director… There are other court alchemists, yet she dumps all the work on me. That old hag… I’ll poison her someday…”

You could practically say the current palace ran almost entirely on me alone.

The level of the current palace mages was honestly terrible.

If I disappeared, work would surely stop and cause chaos.

“Maybe I should quit…”

I didn’t really need to cling to being a court alchemist anyway.

Why was I still continuing? Maybe quitting was just a hassle.

First, quitting itself was troublesome—how do you even resign? Do I write a resignation letter?

Second, being a freelance alchemist meant negotiating with merchants myself. Needless to say, I had to sell what I made to earn money.

Finally… well, I’d worked hard to earn a national qualification, so it felt wasteful to throw it away. And I also owed my master for recommending me.

“…………”

My master was my benefactor. When I was five, my parents were eaten and killed by monsters. The village chief tried to drive out useless orphan me.

At that time, my master happened to pass by the village, recognized my talent, and I became his disciple.

…The reason I was alive now was thanks to the techniques and knowledge he taught me. And thanks to his recommendation, I became a court alchemist.

Quitting the palace would mean disgracing the master who recommended me…

…In the end, maybe I couldn’t quit because I felt indebted to that idiot master.

“Sigh… oh well. I guess I’ll keep going… man, I want to quit. I wish a meteor would fall on the capital. Or maybe a horde of monsters would attack—just kidding.”

And then it happened.

Clang clang clang clang clang clang clang clang!

The alarm bell rang. A knight standing atop the city gate shouted loudly.

“Run! A stampede! A horde of monsters is coming to the royal capital!”