“Are there dolls that move by magic?”
A few days after Shuuki and Adriana had begun their life together, they were once again locked in a debate.
“Yes, there are. We call them ‘magi-dolls’…”
However, the reality of these dolls was far removed from the image Shuuki had in mind.
“No, that’s not it. What I’m talking about is something with a human appearance that thinks and moves just like a real person.”
“A thing like that could never—no, wait. That’s exactly what makes it interesting, isn’t it?”
Adriana was a precocious genius. By the age of ten, her mana had surpassed her Master’s, and by twelve, she had made her Master declare, “There is nothing more I can teach you.”
She had lived in her birthplace, the city of Naminte, until she was fifteen. Afterward, she had a laboratory built at the foot of Mount Funisis and settled there.
She had two primary research themes: the systematization of known magic and the creation of new magic.
Regarding the latter, she had already succeeded in developing several spells and magic tools. Apparently, she had used the rewards from those achievements to fund the construction of this laboratory.
While she was currently researching Space and Teleportation, she suddenly announced she was putting those on hold for the time being.
“A new kind of magi-doll seems much more useful!…Oh, but don’t worry. I’ll keep up the research on Space and Teleportation so you can return to your world, Shuuki.”
Adriana gave him a small smile.
＊ ＊ ＊
“I’m telling you, why would you even do that!?”
“I already told you, it’s to give it a structure closer to a human’s!”
Their latest argument had begun.
In their quest to develop the new magi-doll, Shuuki and Adriana spent day after day building and scrapping prototypes. These daily bouts of bickering had become a routine part of their development process.
“Shuuki, three days ago, didn't you say that to make it ‘just like a human,’ we had to make the internal structure identical as well?”
“Yeah, I did. But there’s no point in copying the parts that have nothing to do with movement, is there?”
“And that justifies putting the control brain in the chest?”
In this world, it was common knowledge that the brain, the organ of thought, was located in the head.
“The head is useful as a housing for sensory organs, but isn't putting the brain—the thing that controls the whole body—in such a protruding part just creating a weakness?”
Shuuki suspected that humans only lacked the internal space to house a brain in the torso, or perhaps the brain simply needed to be in that position to develop properly.
It definitely wasn't because he’d seen an anime robot with its electronic brain in its torso—near the heart—instead of its head while watching TV with his landlord’s son... probably.
“Hmm. When you put it that way, I suppose it makes some sense…”
In this manner, the development of the magi-doll crept forward bit by bit.
“The physical structure is fine now. But…”
Adriana spoke with a complex expression, looking pleased yet slightly frustrated.
“Yeah. First, we have to tackle the materials…”
During the process of forming the skeleton, the issue of materials had resurfaced. They had been crafting the prototypes out of ordinary bronze, but the material’s strength was becoming a concern.
“Let’s see, it should be around here.”
Shuuki flipped through the technical book that had accompanied him to this world. The title was Introduction to Structural Mechanics.
“Let’s see… second moment of area… Ah, right. In the case of a cylindrical cross-section…”
Essentially, Shuuki was researching what factors had the greatest impact on the bending strength of a beam—a rod-shaped object.
“Just as I thought, it’s better to make it as thick as possible…”
If the material and the amount used were identical, a thick hollow pipe would possess greater bending strength than a thin solid rod. However, when it came to the skeleton of a magi-doll, they couldn’t afford to make the parts too thick.
“An exoskeleton would just look like an insect or a crab…”
“Is that book you’re reading a reference manual for magi-dolls, Shuuki?”
“Of course not. It contains the basic knowledge needed to understand the strength of general structures.”
“Like bridges over rivers and things like that?”
“Oh, yeah. Exactly like that.”
As the days passed, the rapport between Shuuki and Adriana grew more familiar—mostly in the sense that Shuuki had dropped his polite speech style.
“Anyway, bronze is the problem… It’s fine for the prototypes, but I think it’ll lack the strength we need for the final version.”
“I wonder if we can reinforce it with magic?”
Adriana reacted to Shuuki’s grumbling.
“Right, that might be possible. If we do this and that… Hey, Shuuki, how much do you actually know about matter?”
“Huh?…Well, if you keep breaking matter down into smaller and smaller pieces, you eventually reach a point where if you go any smaller, it stops being that substance. That’s the minimum unit.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. Just listen to me for now. That minimum unit is called a ‘molecule.’ Like a water molecule for water. There are exceptions, but we’ll save those for another time.”
Shuuki continued his explanation of atoms and molecules. Adriana seemed to grasp about half of it.
“Hmm. If that’s the case, do you know the difference between substances in this world that react to mana and those that don’t?”
“Hmm…”
This question stumped Shuuki. He had no knowledge of magic whatsoever. Consequently, he could only offer general advice.
“For a substance to be ‘strong,’ it means it’s hard to deform. Since deformation is just the distance between molecules changing, maybe we can do something if we can increase the bonding force between the molecules?”
However, Adriana was a genius.
“Hmm. I think I sort of get it,” she murmured, and began to sink into thought.
“…”
Not wanting to disturb her, Shuuki decided to handle the cooking—which they took turns doing—and headed to the kitchen.
Having lived alone in a boarding house, Shuuki was a capable cook. However, in the Ars world, where ingredients and utensils were vastly different, his repertoire was still limited.
The staples were rice or barley. Both were prepared as porridge. This was partly because they were difficult to cook otherwise, but mostly because in this northern region, it was the standard way to bulk up the meal and make it go further.
Shuuki had tried to explain that the volume wasn't actually increasing—the grains were just swelling from absorbing water—but to no avail.
The side dishes consisted of dried meat and dry vegetables. He wanted more vitamins and minerals, but it was currently winter. Beyond the walls of the laboratory lay a frozen, snowy wasteland, so Shuuki had resigned himself to his current diet. However, he had resolved to find better ingredients by any means necessary once spring arrived.
“Dinner’s ready.”
After spending an hour cooking, he returned to the research room to find Adriana still deep in thought.
“Hey, Adriana.”
There was no reply. Once she entered a state of deep reflection, she became completely unresponsive to her surroundings.
“I guess I have no choice…”
Shuuki slowly approached Adriana and leaned in close. He put his mouth to her ear and blew a soft breath.
“Fuu.”
“Hyau?!”
Adriana literally jumped out of her chair.
“A-Wha—Shuuki?!”
“I. Said. Dinner. Is. Ready.”
As Adriana clutched her ear and glared at him, he slowly informed her that the meal was finished. Adriana let out a breath of relief and her expression softened.
Adriana’s ears were incredibly sensitive. She had personally given him permission to blow into them whenever she wouldn't respond to being called.
“Oh, is it that time already? Sorry, I ended up making you do everything again.”
“It’s fine.…So, did you come up with something?”
“Yeah… I think I’m almost there. I want to hear your opinion after we eat.”
“Understood. Let’s make sure we eat properly first, okay?”
Like many a dedicated researcher, she was the type to become so engrossed in her work that she forgot to eat.