Let’s Make Saving a Habit - Chapter 17

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 17
After dozens of reloads and retests, I had uncovered every problem and its solution, and now I returned to checkpoint 1.
The moment I’d told the children to wait a bit. Then I shook my head as if fed up.
Written exams composed of various political, economic, and social problems, and the crisis-response scenarios that appeared in ability assessments.
One might ask what could possibly be difficult about a test taken by mere children aged seven to fifteen, even if they possessed adult-level intellect.
But understand this clearly—you would be mistaken.
Did I not mention it? The Talent Cultivation Institute gathered every prodigy who soared through the Empire.
These were problems meant to be solved by such individuals.
Yet I was no genius—merely an ordinary person blessed with an absurdly broken ability.
Honestly, I could say with certainty that my mind was far from brilliant, despite having lived slightly longer than my peers.
…All multiple choice, so I easily discovered the correct answers through save-load. If it had been essay questions, I would’ve been in real trouble.
As I sighed at this, Raspi asked with a bewildered expression.
“You said you were going out, but what’s suddenly so difficult?”
I shrugged nonchalantly and played it off.
“Well, since you insisted on coming along, I’ll let you.”
“Pardon? But you just said we needed to extract information….”
“Oh, that. On second thought, I don’t think we need to.”
I’d already taken care of it.
“From now on, I’ll recite the correct answers I learned through my precognition ability, and you memorize them all and write them on the test in order.”
I pulled one corner of my mouth into a slanted smile.
With the answer key right there in front of us, there’s no way you couldn’t memorize it.
Right?

✦ ✦ ✦
“Tania, you may proceed to Test Room 1.”
I rose from the waiting seat and glanced back at Raspi once more.
We had already completed the written examination—a simple matter of entering the memorized number we’d received upon registration.
To avoid suspicion if our scores matched, I’d ensured Raspi would receive a barely passing mark while Rosemary would score high by providing her with the correct answers.
This meant Raspi had to perform well on the ability grade assessment and crisis response test.
“Raspi, you remember everything I told you, don’t you?”
He stared at me with an anxious expression etched across his face.
“Honestly, I still can’t believe my sister and I could possibly pass a place like this.”
“Don’t worry. Even if you get nervous and fail the entire exam, it’s fine. Just relax.”
“…Thank you for the encouragement.”
I meant it when I said failing was acceptable.
I could always manipulate the timeline if needed.
Though realistically, there was no reason for the siblings to fail.
“Then I’ll be going.”
As I opened the test room door and stepped inside, three proctors for the ability grade evaluation turned to regard me in unison.
The Papiope Talent Cultivation Institute operated twenty-four hours, three hundred sixty-five days a year.
This meant the people who’d come to evaluate me weren’t permanently assigned to this task—they’d been pulled away from other duties.
I wouldn’t be a particularly welcome presence. In moments like these, making a good impression was crucial.
I smiled warmly and made eye contact with each of them in turn.
As I stood before the proctors, the person on the far left spoke first.
“You checked the box indicating you’re an awakened Abiliter, but you left the ability type blank. Why is that?”
“Yes. I thought it would be better to explain it directly.”
If I’d written ‘foresight’ on the application, expectations would be astronomically high from the start.
It was better to reveal it when they least expected it.
The proctor asked in a mechanical tone, his expression indifferent.
“What type of ability are we talking about?”
“Well, I can glimpse the near future. For the distant future, I can see it hazily, but with low probability.”
In that instant, the air seemed to stop flowing.
The stern-faced proctors, who appeared incapable of excitement under any circumstance, suddenly shot to their feet and bombarded me with questions.
“Good heavens! Are you saying you possess ‘foresight’—the ability to perceive specific points in the future?”
“An Abiliter with foresight abilities? This is unprecedented!”
“Miss Tania, you’re not a noble who fled from another nation to the Empire, are you?”
“If you’re not a noble from another country, you’d be an incredible asset to Papiope. Foresight, no less!”
I lifted one corner of my mouth in a leisurely smile.
Yes, the reactions from everyone I’d met so far had been far too subdued.
This was the normal response.
The proctors, who had been excited enough to jump from their seats upon hearing of my ability, quickly regained their composure.
“No, wait. First, we need to verify the extent to which you can manifest this ability.”
“That’s right. Of course, ‘foresight’ is certainly a valuable ability, but its practical application varies drastically depending on the power level.”
Let me explain something I’ve been putting off, lest you grow bored….
Abilities are shared among those who possess the same power.
What does that mean?
Simply put, the more people who possess the same type of ability, the weaker that ability becomes.
It’s the difference between eating one pie alone versus sharing it with many others.
Of course, depending on the ability itself, the initial size of the pie varied dramatically….
Regardless, it was certain that the fewer ability users of the same type, the stronger the power.
Here’s where the problem lies: abilities are hereditary.
Because of this, noble families strictly controlled their descendants to prevent their powers from weakening, and carefully managed their bloodlines to prevent leakage.
The monopoly on noble abilities had become such a significant social problem.
That’s why everyone suspected I was a noble who had fled from another country.
After all, there was no family with precognitive abilities in our own Ragras Empire.
The examiner, apparently bothered by his earlier lapse in composure, cleared his throat once before speaking.
“Ahem! Miss Tania, how far into the future can you see?”
“At most, within a month. In truth, I could foresee much further into the future…. But I choose not to.”
“Why is that?”
“I see the future by using lifespan as a medium. When I look far ahead, my lifespan decreases significantly.”
“Ah….”
Sighs escaped from the examiners.
Some abilities often came with side effects when used.
Of course, I experienced no side effects whatsoever—I was simply lying intentionally.
The future I could perceive extended only within twelve years….
I needed an excuse ready for when they asked about futures I couldn’t know.
“Besides, the distant future has too many variables. The future is something where even minute changes can alter much.”
There’s a reason the butterfly effect exists.
At my words about how distant futures were difficult to predict accurately, disappointment flickered across the examiners’ eyes once more.
But I hadn’t yet played the card that would force them to value my ability highly.
“However… natural disasters like earthquakes or floods would become unchanging futures.”
“…!”
They exchanged glances silently, their expressions startled. It seemed this was something they hadn’t considered.
How could they have?
Usually, when people hear someone can foresee the future, they first think of ways to make a fortune overnight.
“I understand what you’re trying to convey. Despite your young age, your understanding of your own ability seems quite profound.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
As I bowed respectfully, satisfaction filled the examiners’ eyes.
“Then, may we understand that accuracy increases the nearer the future is?”
“Yes. I can accurately predict anything that happens within ten seconds. My lifespan is barely consumed either.”
“Then, how can you prove that you possess precognitive ability?”
“Ah, I’ve never lost at rock-paper-scissors. Would you like to try challenging me?”
There was no simpler or clearer way to demonstrate it than this.
“Rock, paper, scissors…?”
“Haha, excellent! What an amusing method.”
The examiners, initially taken aback, soon recalled that I was merely a child and readily consented.
I chuckled like a demon, savoring the thought of delivering the bitter taste of defeat to them.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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