Chapter 33: The Genius Architect Does Not Understand “Livability”
Power, depending on how it is used, can be more vicious than violence.
Especially when it is riding a runaway train called “art.”
“…A permit from His Majesty the King?”
I stared at the parchment thrust in front of me.
Written on it, in my brother-in-law Louis’s bold, familiar handwriting, was the phrase: “Full authority over palace renovation is hereby delegated.”
The royal seal was genuine.
“That’s right!
I was summoned to revolutionize this country’s ‘outdated sense of beauty’!”
The architect Leonardo puffed out his chest, his fluorescent-yellow mantle fluttering dramatically.
One sock was red, the other blue.
His sense of color was fighting itself.
If this was what passed for fashionable, I was happy to stay unfashionable forever.
“A plain caretaker like you has no right to interfere.
…Now move aside, you’re in the way.
Those bookshelves are ‘dead placement,’ too, so I plan to remove them all and stack them into a spiral.”
“Remove… the bookshelves?”
My eyebrow twitched.
Bookshelves exist to store books, protect them, and make them easy to retrieve.
If they were stacked like an art object, how would anyone get the books on top.
With a ladder.
A step stool.
Too much trouble.
Rejected.
“Please wait.
…I will concede, generously, that you replaced the entrance door with that ‘avant-garde scrap metal’ of yours (which I will fix later).
But touching the interior goes beyond your authority.”
“Hah!
Beyond my authority?
Didn’t I tell you I have ‘full authority’!”
Leonardo snorted.
Then he pointed at the new ‘chair’ placed in the center of the room.
“Behold this form!
This transparency!
This is the furniture of the new era, the ‘Crystal Chair Absolute’!”
There stood a chair made entirely of glass.
The backrest was a sharp triangle.
The seat was a completely flat glass plate.
Zero cushioning.
A design that deliberately ignored ergonomics.
“…Where is my duck-feather sofa?”
“That tasteless lump of fabric?
It ruined the aesthetics, so I put it out in the hallway.
The garbage collectors will take it away.”
Snap.
Another fuse of my rationality blew.
That was the world’s finest sofa, custom-made by Claude just for my naps.
And he called it garbage?
I took a deep breath.
Calm down, Eliana.
Blowing him away with magic would be easy.
But he was a guest invited by the King.
Physically removing him could turn into a diplomatic incident.
Then I would make him understand through logic and reality.
“…Leonardo.
May I ask you one question?”
I spoke in a deliberately calm voice.
“What do you believe the role of furniture is?”
“That’s obvious.
To dominate space and shake the soul of the beholder.”
“You are wrong.
It is for people to use and relax.”
I pointed at the glass chair.
“How is the sitting comfort of that chair?”
“Sitting comfort?
Nonsense!”
Leonardo shrugged exaggeratedly.
“Beauty comes with pain!
Just as constricting dresses make ladies look beautiful, furniture must also impose tension on people to elevate the spirit!
Sitting in a slouched, relaxed posture is an insult to beauty!”
I see.
This man was the natural enemy of my energy-saving, on-time-leaving, second-nap lifestyle.
We were incompatible.
Absolutely irreconcilable.
“…I understand.
Then please prove it.”
I gestured to the chair.
“That so-called ‘spiritual elevation’ of yours.
…Please, have a seat.”
“Hmph, I don’t need to be told.
It’s my greatest masterpiece.”
Leonardo gracefully sat down on the glass chair.
He crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hand.
The pose was perfect.
“Well?
This cold, merciless transparency.
By sitting here, the contrast between the human body and glass—”
“Please do not move from that position.”
I said.
“The true value of furniture is revealed only through long-term use.
…Please remain seated there for one hundred minutes.”
“Hah, I can sit for a hundred, even two hundred minutes!”
Ten minutes passed.
Leonardo still looked confident.
He was still talking about art theory.
“Light refraction… angles…”
Fifty minutes passed.
He started talking less.
He kept shifting his hips.
Seventy minutes passed.
His complexion worsened.
Glass has high thermal conductivity.
In other words, it steals body heat.
Inside a stone tower, even in spring, the room temperature was cool.
What would happen if you sat directly on a cold glass plate.
“…Um, it’s getting a bit cold.”
“Oh my, isn’t your spirit being elevated?”
I smiled sweetly.
“Please continue.
Thirty minutes left.”
Ninety minutes passed.
Leonardo’s body began to tremble slightly.
It was not just the cold.
The hard seat was pressing against his sitting bones.
The pain of sitting on a hard, cushionless chair for too long bordered on torture.
“…Ggh…”
“You don’t look well.
That’s not very beautiful, is it?”
I began my follow-up attack.
This was my turn, armed with health knowledge from my previous life of office work.
“Leonardo.
Did you know that sitting on a hard, cold chair for extended periods causes poor blood circulation?”
“…S-So what…”
“Poor circulation around the pelvis leads to internal chilling.
Digestive decline, weakened immunity.
And most importantly…”
I lowered my voice and stepped closer.
“…You will develop a blood circulation disorder.”
“!?”
Leonardo flinched.
Artist or not, he was still human.
Delicate lower-body illnesses were surely frightening.
“Excessive pressure on the sitting bones causes severe congestion.
Once it happens, you will lose that elegant way of walking and live a life constantly enduring pain.
…Can you still say ‘beauty is pain’ then?”
“…Blood circulation disorder…”
I could almost hear the crack forming in his pride.
Pain in his backside and fear for his future.
“Are your works cursed items that make users sick?
Or tools that support people?”
“U-uuugh…!”
One hundred minutes passed.
Leonardo sprang up as if repelled.
Or rather, he tried to stand, only to stagger as his legs went numb.
“D-Damn it…!
My backside, I can’t feel it…!”
Rubbing himself, he glared at me resentfully.
“R-Remember this!
Today I was just in bad condition!”
Sour grapes.
This was not a condition issue.
It was physics.
“This room is still my canvas!
Next time, I’ll bring a design that really knocks you off your feet!”
He hurled a rolled-up blueprint from his pocket.
Then he fled, leaving the glass chair behind.
“…Good grief.”
I picked up the blueprint he had thrown.
Across the page was written: “Second Library Full Renovation Plan,” accompanied by horrifying illustrations.
• Remove the ceiling to create an open-air library (no consideration for rain).
• Replace toilet doors with glass to enhance openness.
• Make the entire floor mirrored to erase the sense of up and down.
“…Are you sane?”
A mirrored floor.
That would make the inside of skirts completely visible.
This was not art.
It was perversion.
I crumpled the blueprint in my hand.
This meant war.
A holy war to protect my comfortable castle.
“…First, I need to get rid of that chair.”
I looked down at the cold relic left in the center of the room.
That thing was not worth sitting on.
Either it would become storage junk, or perhaps—
That was when it happened.
Rustle, rustle…
A strange sound came from behind the bookshelves.
A mouse?
No, this place was maintained with my 《Clean》 magic.
There should be no pests.
I approached the source of the sound.
The deepest shelf, a blind spot where dust would normally collect (though mine was spotless thanks to magic).
“…An egg?”
It was about the size of a chicken egg, gray in color.
Its surface was rough, covered in dust-like fuzz.
Perhaps that so-called genius cursed architect had brought it in.
“…Let’s throw it away.”
Unknown objects should be disposed of.
The moment I picked it up to take it to the trash—
Crack.
A fissure appeared in the shell.
It was warm.
“Huh?”
Pop.
The shell split open.
From inside emerged a small, gray, lizard-like creature.