Souma Kenta was already moving by the time morning dew still wet the grass on the hill. He hadn't slept last night. It was the potatoes' fault. Those purple, infuriating little bulbs had kept him lying on his back for three hours, staring at the ceiling stains. He'd gotten up before dawn and filled the margins of his kitchen memo with detailed blueprints. The title: Three-Stage Capture System. First layer: rope loops laid out in the grass at thirty-centimeter intervals. If the rolling potato stepped on one, it would bind its base. Second layer: guide rails. Two rows of fencing to funnel the potato's escape route into a single path. And third layer—a pit trap. Fifty centimeters deep, thirty centimeters in diameter. The moment the potato fell in, capture complete. Perfect. Airtight. He wanted to pat himself on the back from last night. Kenta crouched behind a rock outcrop on the hill, gazing at his completed trap with satisfaction. The rope loops glinted in the morning sun. The guide rails were slightly bent, but that wouldn't affect function. The pit trap was... maybe a little shallow, but within acceptable range. Then, from beyond the hill, came a rolling sound. Dodododo. It was coming. Kenta lowered himself quietly behind the rock. Three rolling potatoes—what appeared to be the advance scout unit—ambled lazily down the slope. Strange, considering they usually tore along at thirty kilometers per hour when being chased. When no one was pursuing them, they rolled this slowly? Kenta made a mental note. The first one approached the rope loop. Made contact. —It slipped right over the rope and passed through without catching. Kenta's eyebrow twitched slightly. The second one reached the guide rail entrance. It progressed along the fence. Good. This should lead it straight to the pit trap— —but at the exit, it executed a neat directional change and leaped sideways through the gap in the fence. Kenta's mouth twisted slightly. The third one. It stopped just before the pit trap. Completely still. As if it recognized the hole, it froze exactly one centimeter before the edge. Three seconds passed. Then it slowly backed up, took a wide detour around the trap, and strolled away leisurely. And then—the main force arrived. Seven potatoes in a cluster rolled down the hill. As if completely ignoring the results of the advance three, each one charged at the traps. But the outcome was identical. The rope loops were trampled over, the guide rails were breached from the side, and all seven came to a complete stop just before the pit trap before detouring around it. The last one rolled through the entire trap setup, gathering it all up and carrying it away down the slope. The rope, the boards, the stumps—everything together, disappearing downhill. It was almost considerate, like it was tidying up after them, saying "we don't need this." Kenta emerged from behind the rock and looked up at the sky. It was blue. Perfectly clear, not a single cloud. A bird was singing somewhere. A peaceful morning. "The design... had no flaws." He murmured it. Quietly, but with conviction. The trap design was sound. The problem lay with the rolling potatoes. They were simply too intelligent. Not his responsibility. Kenta reached that conclusion and applied a thin coat of self-esteem varnish. Then a voice came from down the road. "Lost to the potatoes again, that foreigner." He turned around. An elderly woman with a hunched back was passing by, leaning on a cane. She glanced at Kenta without any particular sympathy and kept walking. It was commentary. Not even an opinion—just a statement of fact. A hairline crack appeared across Kenta's cheek. The varnish of self-esteem peeled off before it could even dry. 　　＊ Kenta pulled himself together and stood at the top of the hill. Since the traps had all been carried away, he had to think of the next approach. The advantage of a perfectionist was learning from failure—he told himself this while trying to add his observations to the kitchen memo. Right at that moment. CRASH!!!! Something slammed into his back. Wait, wait, wait—before his thoughts could catch up, his body was flying through the air. He flew a good two meters and tumbled down the hillside. Dirt against his ribs. The smell of grass in his mouth. The world spinning before his eyes. (What... was that...) Lifting his face while lying prone, he saw a purple sphere rolling lazily down the slope. A rolling potato. It had come barreling down at full speed and crashed directly into Kenta's back. Whether it had recognized him as an obstacle and charged through with full force, or simply hadn't seen him—either way, it was infuriating. He tried to push himself up—at that moment. THUD!!!! "—!?" This time his feet were swept out from under him. Another potato had struck right at his ankles and passed through. Kenta tumbled into the slope again. This time on his back. He could see the sky. The same blue sky as before. Completely unchanged. What a peaceful morning. At that moment, a voice came from the road. "Ah—!" It was a loud voice. Kenta slowly turned his head toward the sound. At the edge of the road stood a girl carrying a large bundle. About the same height as Kenta—or maybe slightly shorter. Water-blue long hair swayed in the wind. Her right eye was gold, her left eye purple—heterochromatic eyes widened in surprise as they looked toward Kenta. A small blue crystal ornament adorned her forehead. A leather cord around her neck held a student badge from Aokijuin—the institution that taught spirit contract magic. The girl seemed to realize she'd cried out and hurriedly covered her mouth with both hands. The bundle lost its balance and tilted. She tried to support it, but then the student badge tangled around her neck. She tried to untangle it, and the bundle tilted further. After some frantic maneuvering, she finally steadied herself. Kenta, who had watched the entire scene from his back, stood up and spoke. "...Are you alright?" It felt like he was asking the wrong person, but she was the one who hadn't stabilized the situation yet. "I-I'm fine! Um, you're the one who—" The girl's eyes quickly scanned his entire body. She was checking for injuries. Her movements were serious. Strangely, it didn't feel unpleasant. "Just knocked down by potatoes twice. I'm used to it." "...Is that something you should be used to?" The girl said it quietly. It was a fair point. Kenta thought for a moment before simply answering, "Fair enough." The girl—Elina—adjusted her bundle firmly in front of her and looked up at the sign for Lauthard on the hilltop—the tavern Kenta had started building in the abandoned cottage. She seemed to want to say something but couldn't quite bring herself to speak. Her shy nature showed plainly in her demeanor. Then a roar echoed from the top of the hill. Dodododododododo!!!!! "!" A herd of rolling potatoes was barreling down the slope at full speed. And this time there were more than ten. Heading straight for Kenta. Elina saw them and made a decision. She dropped her bundle to the ground and gripped her student badge. Her gold and purple eyes fixed on the approaching herd. "I'll stop them!" With that declaration, Elina thrust both hands forward. Through her contract with a spirit, she could use spirit contract magic—Elina's contract was with a tree spirit, and thick roots burst from the ground. They extended toward the potato herd. This should stop them—Kenta thought, but in the next instant. The roots pierced not the potatoes, but the south wall of the nearby cottage. CRASH!!!!!!!! An entire wall board was blown clean off from its base. Sunlight streamed into the cottage's interior. Excellent natural lighting. The potato herd tumbled down the slope along with the wall board. The board and potatoes descended in parallel at the same speed, disappearing from their view. Silence. "...Oh." Elina froze, her face pale. "I-I'm so sorry...! The spirit chose the largest obstacle and—no, that's just an excuse—I'm truly sorry—I'll compensate for the wall, I don't have any money right now but I will—my Aokijuin scholarship comes next month—" Apologies came rapid-fire. Elina's voice trembled slightly. She was genuinely mortified. Kenta gazed at the cottage's south side, now missing a wall board. One wall panel was indeed gone. In a way, the precision of the magic was impressive. It hadn't touched the potatoes, but had blown away only the wall with perfect accuracy. (The lighting improved.) That's what he thought. At the same time, the south-facing wind would now flow directly inside, improving ventilation. The smoke from the stove might flow better. He wrote in the memo margin: "South wall → removal for ventilation improvement—verify effect." "...Did you just take notes?" Elina said it in astonishment. Her apology barrage had stopped. "Recording the lighting and ventilation. It was useful information." "Even though the wall was blown off...?" "As a result, one section of renovation has progressed." Elina's face went slack. She'd expected to be scolded, but instead the destruction was being processed as renovation progress. Something in her mind wasn't catching up. Her heterochromatic eyes blinked repeatedly. And before she knew it, she was carrying wall boards. 　　＊ The repair work proceeded at roughly three times the expected noise level. Elina's tree spirit magic was convenient, but the spirit's "interpretation" was off every time. "Please reinforce the joint on that pillar." "Y-yes!" Elina activated the magic. Roots and vines extended. But every time, wood grew about fifteen centimeters off from where Kenta had pointed. "Not there." "The spirit is interpreting things slightly differently..." "As a result of that different interpretation, all four pillars are now wrapped in vines." "...Yes." "Since the structural integrity has improved, I'll count it as a win." Elina made a complicated face. Being accepted despite the mistakes seemed to unsettle her more than being scolded. Elina continued working while fidgeting, denied the opportunity to apologize over and over. The emergency repairs were complete in about an hour. It wasn't quite back to normal, but it would keep out rain and wind. The pillars were wrapped in vines and actually stronger than before. Kenta confirmed this and said, "Let's take a break," then prepared two cups of water. Elina hesitantly accepted one. Her hand trembled slightly—whether from overusing magic or from nervousness, Kenta couldn't tell. The two of them sat down in front of the cottage. The midday sun warmed the hill. In the distance, the sounds of villagers from Milford working in the fields could be heard. Elina kept glancing into the cottage. Her gaze was directed at the kitchen memo spread across the work table. She didn't seem to be trying to read it, but she was clearly curious. "You can look if you want." "Eh, but..." "You won't be able to read it anyway. It's written in the language of my previous world." Elina froze for a moment, then carefully approached the memo. Her water-blue hair swayed. She stared intently at the characters. Her expression was serious. Knowledge hunger was written all over her face. "...'Transfer the components of ingredients through heat application.'" Elina read it quietly. It was an accurate translation. Apparently students of Aokijuin learned multiple languages. "Is this... alchemy?" She asked seriously. "Cooking." Elina's eyes—both gold and purple—lit up. A switch had been flipped. "But transferring components through heat as a medium aligns with the heat mediation theory taught at Aokijuin. Component transfer without spirit intermediation is a field being researched at Aokijuin too—ah, but how do you remove impurities without spirits, how do you adjust concentration without formulas—wait, if components transfer through heat al