Wandering Agent
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Machinist of Mana Chapter 137 A Different Maid
🕑 Added 2025-08-26 15:53:42 +0000 UTCWhile I'd thought my first meeting hadn't been ideal apparently the school's people had felt very differently. My willingness to ask questions and 'be corrected' was seen positively. The fact that I'd immediately gone to go buy the book of sayings from a man they were all fangirling over when it was suggested to me had gone over even better. I didn't know they'd actually looked at that, but they had.
It was a casual level of inspection I hadn't suspected, but that I really should have. These people were almost obsessive over their work, and while I was in a very public place like a university I should expect everything I did to be looked at. It had been foolish of me to think otherwise, but luckily I already fit the idea of what they were looking for in people from my lands. I had elven blood, which was an instant improvement, I was humble, which everyone everywhere tended to like in those they viewed as lesser than themselves, and I was genuinely interested in learning.
This meant that I had a better in for more things like discussions in their equivalent of our own Royal Society. I wouldn't be giving any talks, but just getting in to listen was more than enough for the moment. Gains would be incremental, not all at once, that was simply the nature of these things. However I had something else I wanted to look at while I was here.
“Hello there,” I said to the maid as she came by to clean the room. “How are you?”
“Oh!” she said with a small start, me not having looked up from the papers I was leaned over. “I, um, I'm well sir, very well indeed.”
“That's good to hear, very good. I hate to impose, but I've heard some things recently that I'm not quite clear on, would you be willing to help me with that?”
“I'm not sure that I'm really the best person for that sir, perhaps one of the front desk people would be better?” she tried, clearly eager to get away from this place.
“No, I think they'd give me a less clear answer than you, or would otherwise deflect. It won't take long, and I assure you it will improve my opinion of both this hotel and your work overall.”
I hated myself for doing this, but I'd already seen her fear of the receptionist. What would happen if I complained? I had an idea that it would be very, very bad for her, and she knew that. It was of course an empty threat, I'd never do such a thing to some innocent girl, but she didn't know that. As I saw the visible wince and tightening of her frame I knew I had it.
“Yes sir,” she acquiesced.
“Thank you. I heard someone refer to others as 'thin' but I'm not perfectly clear on what that means exactly. Could you explain it to me?”
“It, it has to do with how much human blood someone has,” she said with a gulp. “It's rather important.”
“How important?” I asked, looking directly at her.
“Incredibly sir,” she said, lowering her eyes.
“And what level makes someone 'thin' then?”
“It... sort of depends on who you ask. The government cutoff is ten percent, though a lot of places now are more looking at fifteen or twenty as their baseline. Below that and it's almost impossible to find a job, and the authorities...” she didn't finish.
“They keep records of genealogy?” I asked.
“Yes, though there's testing too, all citizens have to go through it.”
“And in you're too 'thin'?”
“That's very bad sir, very, very bad.”
“I see, if you don't mind my asking...”
“I'm at eleven and a half percent, if I get fired from this job, it's possible I won't be able to get another, and with my current percentage the law would look poorly on me. Please don't complain, I'll do...”
“You don't need to do anything dear, and have no worries, your work as been exceptional and you've been quite helpful. I doubt you want me to tell your bosses directly, but I'll compliment the cleanliness and excellent staff to one of the higher workers before I leave.” Having gotten the straight answers that I wanted there was no reason to cause her any further stress.
“Thank you,” she said with a tiny voice.
Before she could go I asked one more question.
“Why don't you leave?”
“Um... getting travel papers can be... difficult.”
“Oh I see, my apologies.”
As she scampered away I began to worry. How bad were things here? There were a number of different societies from Earth that had had this kind of thing. There'd been caste systems, segregation, and all other manner of separations, some quite brutal indeed, but I didn't know what I was dealing with here. There'd even been whole groups that had been rounded up and put through 'reeducation' or other words that mostly meant genocide. Her reactions did tell me one thing though, it was probably on the more harmful end.
There was also the evidence that they'd gone to kill our strongest archmage, a clear act of war. It was an opening act, one to weaken, but did this land have other plans? If so then they weren't just looking at me as someone interesting, but as a potential collaborator, that was the role I'd need to play.
None of my thoughts could be written down, but I had deep worries. If they were like this to their own, what would they be like to people who were wholly human? Not good, second class citizens at best, slaughtered at worst, probably somewhere in between based on what I was seeing, and some of their weapons were better than ours.
Still swirling these things around in my head I headed back downstairs, stopping at the reception desk. The one manning it today was a man, slightly older, but still very proper looking.
“Something wrong sir?” he asked.
“Just wondering if you might suggest somewhere to eat as I'm still rather unfamiliar with the area. Everything here has been wonderful so far, quite well maintained, very clean.”
He gave me a smile that was supposed to be knowing, but came off instead as disgusting. “Of course sir, I understand. If you find your room in need of any further cleaning, please let me know and I'll arrange it.”
It took all of my long years of schooling my face not to frown, or rip his head off at his statement. I'd have to apologize to my grandmother, it seemed noble education was good for something.
“Certainly I will,” I told him, knowing well I'd never be requesting that service.
“Now, as for places to eat, there are a number of excellent ones nearby,” he began to list a few, but I wasn't really paying attention, instead focusing on the terrible signs that conversation showed.
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