"What was it like?
Tauro asks the two of us with a smile.
He didn't understand his level at all. Somewhat confident, somewhat of a feeling.
Older and smiling, they looked at each other and nodded.
We understood each other, even without words.
They were attending a knighthood event to find a promising pilot's egg.
And now, right in front of me, I have superb eggs.
Then we'll only secure it.
"Mr. Tauro, please come to the pilots' school."
The elderly face is in a red tide with excitement.
"Are you a pilot school?"
I, for the first time, lean my neck to the words I hear.
Older, he explained.
The King's Capital has the only pilots' school in the kingdom.
There, those who pass the entrance exam, those who have been scouted like me, those who have been recommended by leading men, etc. are learning by going.
"Ha ha, I see"
From what I understand from the older story, it seems to be a pretty special school.
Only one purpose, 'to gain the power to freely manipulate knights and become pilots of the Knights of the Kingdom', seems to be a school that specializes in that.
Anything, they don't have the concept of graduation.
Good grades in school catch the attention of the Knights.
The Knights summon the person, invite him to participate in training and measure his strength.
If it is determined that the Knights' pilots have enough power, they will be recruited as pilots.
This is a substantial graduation.
Surely the pilot, if he graduates from school, is not something that can be automatic.
"If you attended Knights training and were not hired, what would happen?
Ask a question.
"You'll go back to school, you'll continue your studies there, and you'll wait for the Knights to hear from you again."
I see, I nod.
"But not forever."
Older people keep explaining.
"The operating costs of the Pilot's School are all out of the state. Tuition is also paid for uniforms and materials, regardless. If deemed economically challenging, we will also provide dormitories with meals"
"That's wonderful"
I'm impressed.
I guess that's all pilots are valuable to the country.
"So you can't keep enrolling without being hired as a pilot. If you don't bud, you'll be banished from school."
I don't have a choice.
Finally, I ask him what classes he's giving.
I was quite surprised by the older answer.
Anything, they say the curriculum is completely self-selective.
Take the lectures you want while practical skills and various lectures are being given to the classroom.
This seems to be because each person leaves the acquisition of technology that is unknown in order to obtain it and to polish it, called "magic manipulation".
Keep choosing all the practical moves you need if you think it's the practical moves by the golem.
If understanding magic theory is the way to get it, take basic magic and applied magic.
If you think it is necessary to know the structure of the golem, you will face lectures such as Structurology, Materials, and Golem Design Exercises.
If you don't think it's necessary, you don't have to show your face to every lecture.
"That's a great school."
It's really thorough.
Older people snort.
"But only regular practical exams are mandatory. Because the best performers in this exam will be able to participate in the Knights training."
It was an extremely self-responsible school, based on meritocracy.
(Sounds interesting)
I honestly thought so.
I want to try to steer the knight.
This is how I feel right now.
There are dangers in different worlds, life today, a lot of things I think about, but I don't lie to myself.
I want to try to steer the knight.
(Anxiety, indeed)
If you become a pilot of the Knights, you may be driven to war.
Discipline, even if not driven out, should be more severe than the military.
Much more cramped than life is now, no doubt.
(But still, I'd like to try a knight's maneuver)
Hard to save, I guess that's what you mean.
During the Salary years, when it got painful, I wanted to quit the company.
When I won the lottery, I was going to quit the company and play and live every day.
And now, that dream is coming true.
I don't belong to the company or anything, I play with women every day, and I don't have any problems with my life.
That feeling that you're supposed to live such an ideal life, but you can join the Knights, etc.
Honestly, I don't understand myself.
But still, strong feelings for knights cannot be suppressed.
(I might get killed by a hobby)
I seriously think so.
(That's what it might be)
The difficulty in me answers that.
That's how I decided to go to the pilot's school.
After the decision, it was very quick to talk.
Tomorrow, however, he asked me to come to the pilot's school.
The uniform is that if I check the size now, I can give it to you at school tomorrow morning, so I also have textbooks and other materials on campus.
I think I can go to the pilot's school office tomorrow morning with my bare hands.
Okay, I'll ask you tomorrow.
That's what I said when I finished measuring, I left the tent.
(You haven't been in school in ten years)
Looking up at the sky, I think.
In the sky, a knight for the event exhibition was visible.
I headed to the Pleasure Street with my thoughts on my student life starting tomorrow.
I'm in front of a certain whorehouse right now.
It used to be a recently opened whorehouse where I got flyers when I was walking.
(Something, don't have a bad feeling)
A building that feels somewhat cheesy, the catchphrase, "We will provide you with what you truly want".
(It smells like wind clouds in the industry)
Yes, it is. Feel the vibe of that transparent ceiling restaurant, the fast-food whorehouse and all that.
(In the meantime, let's just come in and see. I've been through everything.)
Even though I was taught by my aunt in Bell Talk, I went into the store without punishment.
At the end of the door was a small lobby with only reception.
When I'm choking on the discretionary difference from a regular whorehouse, the old men who come in later pay at the reception and go in one after the other.
I thought I'd ask about the system at the reception, but I'm also growing a little pride as a regular whorehouse attendant.
I decided to go on after the old men that I couldn't imitate the amateur smell here.
At the reception, pay silently.
Cheap. Half the price of an intermediate whorehouse.
They give me two cards.
"There is one in front and two in the back. You can also ask for extras at the reception in the back when you need them."
I don't know what you're talking about. Anxiety only increases.
Approximately push open the door and enter the back room.
There was a wide lobby spread out there.
(Again, or not? What the hell is this?
I'm stunned by a sight I've never seen before.
First, there are women lined up on both sides of the wall.
It's just not normal.
They're all walking up the wall from their bellies.
I mean, from the belly, the back is buried in the wall.
The women, who only put their upper body out of the wall, are flying winks here, elbowing the small table, etc.
In the center of the room, there are numerous seats, quite a few old men sightseeing women on the walls drinking drinks.
What are you looking at? It's a woman. But it's not a woman in her normal state.
Occasionally, there are old men who take their seats and head to the reception in the back.
Watching, the old man gives him two cards and disappears into the back door.
Then a few dozen seconds later, a woman starts to speak and react. The old man who just walked into the back door is the woman I was looking at.
The woman grabs a small table, rattling and shaking.
The old men in the center watching it are thrilled.
A little while later, some old man takes his seat and disappears into the back door, whether inspired by it or not.
And a repeat of the same thing. It's gutta gutta.
(No, it's not. One old man is back)
From his old man's chest pocket, he glances at one card. When I went to the reception in the back earlier, it was two. I'm confirming that.
That means I used one.
I just started thinking about what the hell, and I remembered the reception words at the entrance. "There's one in front and two in the back," he did say.
(No way, in public like this?
That was no way. It was in public.
But mine wasn't enough.
The old man walked past a woman in her normal state, stood in front of a woman in the middle of a gutta gutta, put the small table behind her, and gave her a treat. And in public.
The old men don't know if they know each other or not, but it's a big drink. It's a lot of excitement.
Treated women eat diligently. Where I can see it and I can't see it, I'm eating it at the same time. This is tough.
I heard the old man at the table hissing. Currently, she is pointing at a woman in the middle of an intense meal and talking naughty and naughty.
(Next thing you know, behind the back? The other one, he said he was on standby?
I didn't feel like I knew, but I kept watching the game.
Eventually, the woman became a little overgrown, apparently after the meal at the back.
But a few seconds later.
All of a sudden, a woman glanced big.
The previous old man is guiding her with both hands so that women don't spill food.
(Behind the back, did it start)
I'm sure.
After the meal in front of the back, in a row, now behind the back. Think absurdly.
The old men watching, they're so excited.
(But that whisper is good!
I affirm.
This is not a lawless zone. With the agreement of both parties, commerce is taking place.
Always monitored by the receptionist.
If you can't, you can't, you'll say so.
But no one moves on the store side.
Or maybe this is the sale.
And myself, this streak is close to my MyFavorite syndrome sexuality. I was so embarrassed, I got so excited.
I go to the receptionist in the back to treat a woman next to a woman who is eating, dyeing her cheeks a little red and looking at her next door.
(Should it be in front of the back, no, this is suddenly behind the back, yeah, let's do that)
I was thinking about that as I walked into the back door and down the dark aisle behind the wall.