The Untouchable of Magic High School – A New God Enters the Game

Tatsuya's skill test was set for another meeting room.

Only pre-selected technical staff remained, with some representative members staying as observers. The student council, club presidents, club alliance leaders, and external support staff watched. Yugen, despite being a first-year, was there as a student council member.

The school's CAD tuning machines, open to staff and students, were in the lab, but this test used a vehicle-mounted model for the Nine Schools Competition, with competition-spec devices installed. The equipment was impeccably prepared, but personnel issues were glaringly obvious.

Tatsuya sat at the tuning machine, Kirihara standing beside him, hand resting on a bamboo sword planted in the floor. The CAD reader held Kirihara's usual device and an identical competition model. The group watched from behind, Yuzen standing next to Azusa among the student council.

First, Tatsuya booted the machine. Hostile eyes bore into him, but having mastered far more advanced tuners, he started it flawlessly, waiting for it to fully activate. He confirmed the test conditions with Mayumi.

"The task is to copy Kirihara-senpai's CAD settings to the competition model, ready for immediate use, without altering the activation sequence. Correct?" Tatsuya asked.

"Yes, that's right," Mayumi said. "What's wrong?"

Tatsuya shook his head, not nodding. Mayumi caught it, sensing he wasn't refusing but questioning the task itself, as if saying, "What kind of challenge is this?"

No wonder—Yugen nearly facepalmed. Mayumi could tune CADs herself but lacked basic CAD knowledge. How could a Ten Master Clans member, with access to top-tier magic education, be so clueless about CADs, the cornerstone of modern magic?

"I don't recommend copying settings across different-spec CADs," Tatsuya muttered, eyeing the machine. "But fine. Safety first."

"?" Mayumi blinked.

Others tilted their heads, prompting Tatsuya's inward sigh. Did they use CADs without understanding them? It was like a baseball player swinging a bat without knowing its specs. At least the engineering team seemed to get it.

The student council president, a Ten Master Clans member, and she doesn't know CAD basics? Yugen thought. She ignored her sister's advice out of spite—probably why she's oblivious.

Kana's reaction mirrored the engineers', but stronger—she was certain Tatsuya would nail this "auto-tune failure-prone operation." Yugen agreed; Miyuki's endorsement meant Tatsuya wouldn't slack, and despite his stoic demeanor, his passion wasn't dry.

Tatsuya got to work, no more chatter. He extracted the raw data from Kirihara's CAD via the reader. The semi-automated process was routine, but instead of copying it directly to the competition model, he saved it to the machine's workspace, raising a few eyebrows.

Next, Kirihara's psion wave measurement. Kirihara donned a headset and placed both hands on the psion panel. Standard procedure—auto-adjust machines could finish tuning from here. But auto-tuning used significant storage, falling short of perfection. Manual access to the CAD's OS, fine-tuning with precision, was where engineers shone.

"Thank you. You can remove it," Tatsuya said via the headset.

Kirihara took it off, relaxing. Normally, fine-tuning auto-adjust results would finish the job, but the raw data remained in the workspace, not copied. Some suspected a procedural error, but Tatsuya's focused expression never wavered.

He was still working. Only five in the room grasped it—Yugen among them.

Curiosity got the better of Mayumi, who peeked at Tatsuya's monitor.

"Eh?" she blurted, a distinctly unladylike sound.

Mari glanced too, barely stifling a gasp. Tatsuya ignored the noise, eyes glued to the screen. Instead of graphed results, a separate window displayed a scrolling cascade of text—real-time, rapid-fire code.

Only someone skilled in full manual tuning could comprehend it. Mayumi and Mari's faces showed they didn't.

When the text stopped, Tatsuya's fingers flew across the keyboard. Windows opened and closed, but murmurs arose: "What's he doing?" "Keyboard-only? So outdated." Pure nonsense.

Sure, keyboard-centric work was rare with modern assist systems, but how many grasped the sophistication of Tatsuya's operation?

Second-year engineer Kei Isori, watching, muttered in awe. Kanon Chiyoda, beside him, understood but probed.

"Wow, a first-year doing full manual tuning?" she said.

"I do it too, but not that smoothly," Kei replied. "Few here would get what he's doing."

Tatsuya was manually rewriting Kirihara's settings for the competition model's OS, optimizing within its capacity while maximizing safety margins. Only a handful—some engineers, Yugen, and the external support duo—recognized the skill required.

"—Done," Tatsuya announced.

The tuning, sans activation sequence tweaks, was quick. Kirihara equipped the competition model and activated his specialty, the close-range vibration magic High-Frequency Blade, enveloping the bamboo sword. He'd brought it for this. The magic deployed smoothly, and after a test swing, he signaled completion.

"How's it feel, Kirihara?" Katsuto asked.

"No issues," Kirihara replied. "Feels exactly like my usual one."

His instant answer wasn't favoritism—most knew of Tatsuya and Kirihara's April incident ties. Even without that, the CAD's flawless performance was undeniable, though some only saw the "smooth activation" result.

"It shows some skill, but not enough for our team," a second-year said.

"Average finish time. Not great efficiency," another added.

"Too unconventional. Maybe it has merit, but…"

The second-years, expecting stellar results from the president's pick, dismissed the "Ordinary" outcome.

Idiots, Yugen thought. Expecting flash from an F1 mechanic or a sports trainer? They think engineers are performers?

Engineers were support, maximizing player performance. Last year's president, Mika, doubled as athlete and engineer, skewing the second-years' expectations. Utterly foolish.

Azusa spoke up.

"I support Shiba-kun's inclusion!" she declared. "He read psion wave data directly, tuned manually without auto-adjust, and reflected measurements within the device's limits. Maintaining efficiency with such safety margins is incredible!"

"It's advanced, sure, but a plain result is meaningless," a peer countered.

"It looks plain, but it's not!" Azusa insisted. "That level of safety without efficiency loss is amazing!"

"Calm down, Nakajou," another said. "Excessive safety margins over efficiency? He probably played it safe because it was sudden."

Azusa, not the best debater, faltered. As she stalled, Kana, silent till now, slightly opened her rare-shut eyes and addressed Mayumi.

"Mayumi, can I speak?"

"Uh… yes," Mayumi stammered.

"Thanks. Why'd you give Tatsuya-kun a 'failure-prone auto-tune' task? You're the president. If Kirihara-kun took major damage, could you take responsibility?"

Mayumi froze, realizing her "recommended" task was dangerously flawed. Speechless, she endured Kana's heavy sigh.

"You'd normally tweak the activation sequence too," Kana said. "Katsuto, Mari, you shouldn't enable reckless tasks. CADs are life-or-death tools. Don't you get that? If not, your magician careers will end before the three-peat. Naotsugu and my brother get it, even if they stayed quiet."

Directly copying settings to a competition CAD was risky. Settings meshed with processors and mechanisms, and larger spec gaps demanded stricter tuning. Copying to a higher-spec device was manageable, but from a higher-spec one—like here—was like overwriting a flip-phone with smartphone settings. A mismatch could cause activation failure, risking severe mental damage. Tatsuya's success was his alone.

"And those calling it 'Ordinary' or 'basic skill'—second-years, right?" Kana snapped. "Just say it: 'A Course 2 shouldn't be in the Nine Schools.' If that's your weak stance, stay out of it."

Kana, usually reserved, channeled her sister Mika's fiery tone. A second-year protested.

"But Course 2 students lack the skill—"

"For practical magic," Kana cut in. "Not theory. Who decided CAD tuning needs Course 1 speed or interference strength? Answer that, 'elite Blooms.'"

Her pointed use of the banned "Bloom" term silenced the critics. Tatsuya, listening, saw her logic aligned with Yugen's. Kana continued.

"The Nine Schools is all of First High fighting together. Course 1 or 2 doesn't matter. Engineers need user trust, sure, but if petty pride—superiority or inferiority—blocks that, you don't deserve to be a magician. Quit now, for your own sake."

Harsh, but rooted in the Mitsuya's network-built Ten Master Clans status and Kana's own accolades. She'd once stormed the principal's office to save Mika's enrollment, warning, "Expel Mika? I'm fine, but can you face my father or our doting neighbor grandpa? Want to pick a fight with the Mitsuya, or all Twenty-Eight Families?" The principal, fearing the Saegusa's wrath, backed down.

Kana, done, delivered her final blow.

"As external support and former president, I back first-year Tatsuya Shiba for technical staff. Naotsugu?"

"I, as external support and former club alliance head, back Tatsuya Shiba," Naotsugu said. "His engineering surpasses high school—even college—level. He's fit for First High's three-peat."

The two championship-era leaders' support carried weight. Kana had crushed the opposition, backed by Mitsuya and Chiba prestige. Then Hanzou spoke.

"President, I support Shiba's inclusion," he said.

"Hanzou-kun?" Mayumi blinked.

"Making Kirihara say 'no difference' proves Shiba's skill. The Nine Schools is our school's pride. As Mitsuya-senpai said, it's a total war. We need the best, regardless of year or Course."

Mayumi was stunned—Hanzou, often magic-elitist, backed Tatsuya. A top second-year and vice-president, he recognized Tatsuya's skill, despite occasional jealousy over Mayumi's friendliness.

"Hanzou's right," Katsuto said. "Shiba proved his worth. I support his inclusion."

Katsuto's words sealed Tatsuya's spot on the Nine Schools team.

Later, in the Discipline Committee room, Kana lectured Mayumi, Katsuto, and Mari. Tatsuya, peeking through the door, swore he saw a "muscular deity" behind her.