In a bid to safeguard his life, Elyon's drive to act was significantly bolstered. He aimed to find the office of the Department of Grammar; his mentor might just be there.
Located at the southwest corner of Aegsburg's campus, the Department of Grammar was part of the university's core along with the Caelon Military Academy and the Royal Arts College. The campus bustled even on weekends, with students clutching books shuffling by, and young couples sitting on shaded benches, bubbles in the shape of rosy hearts popping above them, exuding the pungent scent of romance.
The professors' office building was a three-story structure. Using his student ID, Elyon entered and located his mentor's office.
"Knock, knock, knock. Professor Russell, are you in?" Considering it was a day off, Elyon wasn't sure if the professor would be present. He knocked on the door, hoping for the best.
The door creaked open to reveal a sprightly elderly gentleman, immaculately dressed, with an ivory smoking pipe in hand. This refined gentleman was Elyon's mentor, Professor Russell.
"Ah, young Elyon, have you come to me for advice on securing a job post-graduation?" Professor Russell greeted with a congenial smile, welcoming Elyon into his office and gesturing towards a chair for him to sit.
Caught off-guard and not quite sure how to broach the subject, Elyon followed the lead given by Professor Russell, "Indeed, Professor, I've been quite anxious about how I will make a living after graduation. Do you have any advice, given your breadth of experience?"
In an era devoid of job fairs or online recruitment, a mentor's letter of recommendation was key to securing a good position—assuming you didn't have a family business to inherit. The willingness of Professor Russell to proffer such a letter indicated his fondness for Elyon as a student.
"I have three suggestions for you. First, you could take the regional government's secretarial examination this fall. Second, our university has three vacancies for teaching assistants this year—ordinarily only two, but another assistant has unfortunately gone missing. You could compete for the role. Lastly, there's a clerical position open at a police station under the jurisdiction of the Gonia district. The chief is an old friend of mine; you could take my recommendation letter to him," the professor offered after some thought.
Contemplating his options, Elyon knew his actual academic prowess fell short of exam success. Remaining as a teaching assistant was liable to expose him, while a clerical job would provide stability and, importantly, legal access to a firearm for protection.
"Professor, if I may be so bold, could you elaborate on the pros and cons of these opportunities?" Though his preference was already set on the third option, it was important to play the part of the dutiful, humble student.
"Pour me some tea, would you? And have some yourself. You've been here often enough, there's no need for formalities. Let's discuss this over a drink," Professor Russell suggested, pointing to a small copper kettle by the window.
Brugean tea was more akin to Earth's fermented varieties, producing a reddish-brown infusion with a slightly bitter taste—it appeared milk tea had yet to be discovered.
After serving tea to both himself and the professor, Russell took a sip and continued, "Government exams involve both written and oral components. This year they're hiring fewer secretaries than usual, and there will be a lot of competition, particularly from children of seasoned politicians. If you're confident about your interview skills, give it a shot."
It seemed the professor was hinting that without substantial political connections, passing the interview would be difficult. Networks and influence were as valuable in this world as they were on Earth.
"Staying on as a teaching assistant might be a better choice for you. You're diligent and academically oriented. Since the recruiting is internal, I can't provide a direct recommendation, but the professors in charge know you well enough. The downside would be the pay; it's modest, and you'd earn only 4 pounds a week."
Money was not a deterrent, but the person before the professor was far from the academic achiever he remembered. Elyon silently lamented in his mind.
"The clerical job at the police station is also an option. The station chief is a fellow alumnus, so there's a semblance of camaraderie. The advantage here is a weekly salary of 5 pounds. The downside is working eight days a week, and it's harder work than being an assistant. If you want to pursue this, I can write a recommendation right now."
Elyon did some quick mental currency conversion. A police officer's salary, in terms of Earth's purchasing power, was equivalent to a daily wage of over 200 dollars—definitely a white-collar income.
He hadn't expected such a generous salary in this world, but considering undergraduate degrees had not yet lost their value here, he felt content.
"Sir, as you're aware, my family isn't wealthy, and I have two younger sisters still in school. I'm hoping to earn a bit more to help at home. Although it's regrettable I can't stay at the university and continue learning from you, I'll make sure to visit often," Elyon expressively conveyed his desire to work at the police station. It would protect his unremarkable academic identity and allow him to infiltrate a governmental power institution, safeguarding his otherworldly status.
"Alright, wait here, and I'll write you that letter," Professor Russell extinguished his pipe, picked up his pen, and began to write on his desk. In about five minutes, he had composed a letter, sealed it with wax, and stamped it with his personal seal.
Gratefully receiving the recommendation letter and tucking it safely into his coat's inner pocket, Elyon refilled the professor's tea and ventured one more question, "Professor, do you believe that gods truly exist in this world? Is there such a thing as transcendent power?"
Many university professors were atheists and Professor Russell himself was only a nominal follower of the Winter God, often missing Sunday services when work piled up.
"Why the sudden interest in this? The origins of gods and religion were intended to provide solace to the human spirit. When material desires are satisfied, people often seek spiritual comfort. As for transcendent power, you shouldn't believe the ghost stories your fellow students tell. All I can say is that a fortunate few do receive favor from above. Your father, having served in the military, can probably provide a more satisfying answer. Remember though, those favored by the gods pay a price beyond the ordinary imagination," Professor Russell answered with a genial smile.
"Alright, if there's nothing else, let's leave it here for now. I'm planning a game of polo with some old friends. I'll write a letter to the Gonia police department, and you can go for an interview on Monday."
With the professor's dismissal, Elyon thanked the kindly old man and left the university. By midday, the sun shone brightly on the streets, and the clouds in his mind began to part slightly.
He finally had a lead on his quest for transcendent power. It seemed a trip home to see his father was in order.