The Status Window Opened on the First Day of School (5) There is a concept called confirmation bias—the tendency to selectively accept information that supports one’s existing beliefs.
In other words, once you started suspecting something, it became impossible to stop.
That was exactly what Enrique was experiencing.
“That lunatic…
he looks dangerous.” Four days.
For four straight days, the bastard had been lying in wait, chewing military rations.
When she first brought her disciples into the Assassination Squad, Enrique had always taught them one thing above all else: Patience.
Whether it rained or insects crawled over them, they were to remain perfectly still and observe the target.
…She had never meant it like this.
Unlike herself, who was a vampire, he was human.
Unlike her—who only had to avoid sunlight and blessings because she was naturally resistant to almost everything else (she was even an Elder vampire capable of enduring direct sunlight)—he still needed the basic necessities of life.
Sleep.
Food.
Rest.
Enrique narrowed her eyes at Ivan before letting out a deep sigh.
At her age, having to babysit someone that old…
This joke had gone far beyond funny.
“Hey, disciple.” “…” Ivan stood motionless like a statue.
He was concentrating so intensely that he couldn’t even register her voice from this distance.
His eyes were moving.
Reading lips?
He’s really been keeping up that exhausting routine for a long time.
Enrique shrugged, slipped a hand into her sleeve— Click.
Bang!
She fired her pistol.
A flawless draw with absolutely no wasted momentum.
A perfectly steady trajectory aimed directly at the back of his head.
Ivan merely tilted his head.
The bullet missed.
Still holding his axe, he leaped down from the tree.
“…Enrique?” “Yeah, it’s me.
Let’s move first.
Somebody’s bound to come snooping around after hearing that shot.
Let’s head to your place.” “Now’s…
a little inconvenient.” “It’s very inconvenient for me.
If Elise finds out about this she’ll cry again.
Besides, I’ve been meaning to take a look at your orphanage.” Enrique grabbed Ivan firmly by the back of the neck and dragged him away.
Ivan glanced sideways at her before putting away his axe.
His great master was frivolous, slightly insane…
But she was never someone who talked nonsense.
If she said something was urgent, then it probably was.
He slipped naturally out of her grip and began leading the way.
“It may be…
somewhat messy.” “Yeah, yeah.
Just keep walking.” *** A short while later, Enrique stepped into Ivan’s orphanage for the first time.
Her first impression was utter bewilderment.
“You’re not actually raising an Assassination Squad here…
are you?” “That’s a misunderstanding.” “…Seriously?” She stared blankly around.
From tiny children to students on the verge of graduation, children hurried back and forth everywhere.
Not a single footstep could be heard.
Even within her own organization, discipline of this caliber was difficult to find.
What in the world has this bastard been doing?
Enrique let out a helpless laugh.
“If you’ve got your training curriculum written down somewhere, share it with me.
Even my people aren’t this well-trained.” “Provide a regular daily routine and nutritionally balanced meals.” “What kind of insane nonsense are you spouting, you little brat?” Chuckling, Enrique continued walking— Then abruptly stopped.
“…What’s that?
Isn’t that a Demon Race?” “It is.” “…You’ve really outdone yourself this time!
You do realize that if anyone finds out, you, that guy, and this entire place are all dead?” “I know.” Ivan simply shrugged.
In the distance, Eiphellos was teaching the children something.
One child suddenly sprinted forward and buried a punch into Eiphellos’s side.
It was an astonishing feat.
The child had successfully launched a point-blank surprise attack against a centurion who had survived thirty years on the battlefield.
“Yay!” The child shouted triumphantly before dashing away again.
Within seconds, he disappeared from sight.
“Everyone deserves the chance to live like a person.” As she listened to Ivan, Enrique narrowed her eyes.
He embraced a member of the Demon Race, yet at the same time his students were constantly training for ambushes.
“We’re here.” Ivan silently opened the door to the Headmaster’s office.
The room was dim, the curtains tightly drawn.
Enrique took a step forward— Then froze.
A thin booby trap wire stretched just in front of her foot.
There were dozens of them.
Illuminated by the narrow beam of sunlight filtering through the curtains, they looked like strands of a spider’s web.
“What…
is all this…?” Even without light, vampires possessed night vision.
Blackout curtains couldn’t conceal an indoor space from her.
The booby traps?
She could dismiss those as mere paranoid security measures.
But…
“What exactly have you been doing with your life?” Without saying a word, Ivan began dismantling the traps.
One after another, he disarmed the mechanisms attached to the wires before touching a magical lamp in the corner.
Click.
Blue light filled the room.
The office was a complete disaster.
*** Stacks upon stacks of documents.
Profiles meticulously handwritten in neat script.
Notes bearing people’s names, connected to one another with red string.
Every intersection of the web was covered with additional notes.
When Enrique read them, they were merely ordinary conversations.
The sort of ordinary conversations that had no business existing in this form.
Records of who had spoken to whom.
Predictions of their manner of speech.
The meaning hidden between the lines.
Inferred shifts in facial muscles.
Estimated intonation.
Lists of possible regions of origin based on speech patterns…
Even when tracking an international criminal placed under red alert by the Counterintelligence Command, they wouldn’t put in this much effort.
And all this…
For students.
Alone.
Without sleeping.
For days on end.
Enrique’s face gradually stiffened.
This situation.
This appearance.
This behavior.
She knew it all too well.
These were the traces of a mental illness.
Something close to panic disorder.
Perhaps something even older than that.
She had seen it before.
Veterans who had spent too long on the battlefield sometimes ended up like this.
Not especially rare.
Yet every one of them lived like ticking time bombs.
Even now, throughout Prizhenkaya, drug-addicted veterans wandering the streets in exactly this state were all too common.
Enrique drew in a deep breath.
“Ivan.” “Mm.” “Sit down.” Ivan’s expression remained as blank as ever.
Even beneath that infuriating beard, she felt as though she could clearly see the face hidden underneath.
As though it were only natural…
He didn’t recognize anything wrong with himself.
“When was the last time you slept?” “…About six days ago, I think.” The last time he had fallen asleep, he had been buried beneath folders of documents, suffering through a nightmare.
It had felt utterly horrible.
Ever since then, he had deliberately avoided sleeping.
A willpower that bordered on the superhuman.
Enrique looked at him with bitter eyes.
“Tell me.
What’s all this?
When Dmitry asked me to keep an eye on you, I thought you were just trying to protect the children.” That assumption had been natural.
After all, he’d only seemed interested in following around the children of the Hero’s Party.
And she’d appreciated that.
She thought that even after retiring, he still cared enough about the children to protect them personally.
But these traces…
They told a different story.
“Who are you trying to catch?
The terrorist behind St.
Jansk University?” “No.” “Tell me.
Honestly.
At this point I know how terrible you are at explaining yourself.
So start from the beginning…Disciple.” Enrique clasped Ivan’s hand tightly and looked straight into his eyes.
Someone who had lived for over a century possessed a persuasive weight that only time itself could grant.
Ivan met her earnest gaze.
Then sighed.
A moment later…
He began to speak.
It was a long confession.
*** Suppose— Just suppose— There existed someone like this.
A person who left behind the place they had lived and everyone they had ever known…
Only to suddenly find themselves dropped into a completely unfamiliar world.
For example…
Imagine someone staying up all night reading a novel they loved so much that they eventually drifted off to sleep…
Only to awaken inside the world of that novel.
No matter what they did, they couldn’t wake up.
The world continued to feel exactly like the story they’d read.
Not wanting to die…
Or desperately wanting to return home…
They tried everything they possibly could.
Fortunately, they happened to possess talent and managed to adapt.
After living through everything until the novel’s final page…
Perhaps they would begin wondering— ‘Why isn’t it ending?’ Maybe there were other conditions.
Perhaps suicide was the real solution.
Suppose they spent years simply observing the situation.
Then…
Another person suddenly appeared.
Perhaps another outsider from the same hometown.
Now they would begin thinking— Is this world really nothing more than a novel?
Were all the things I experienced merely its prologue?
Does that person’s novel even contain my name?
And if it did…
Then what ending awaited me?
A tragedy?
A comedy?
No…
Before even asking that— Was my life…
Nothing more than a single paragraph of backstory?
Was I merely a character preserved outside the real story that was about to unfold?
Ivan spoke those thoughts.
More and more incoherently.
Yet with absolute conviction in his eyes.
Looking straight at his master.
Explaining everything as gently and clearly as possible— Enough that even this old-fashioned fossil could understand.
*** “…So.
To summarize…You’re actually someone who came here through Possession.” “Mm.” “And recently you confirmed there’s another one.” “Mm.” “And you’ve decided you have to kill him.” “…Mm.” “That is…
remarkably logical, disciple.” Enrique sighed deeply and rubbed her face.
Leaning back against the sofa, she stared at the ceiling.
Damn it.
There were notes attached to the ceiling too.
She honestly wanted to know how he’d even managed that.
“There are a lot of things I want to say…But first, I owe you an apology.
I thought you’d followed us all the way to the Demon King’s Tower.” They had spent so much time together that she’d naturally assumed he’d climbed the tower alongside them.
It had been Enrique’s mistake.
In truth…
Everyone had made the same mistake.
The excuse that they hadn’t known what condition he was in meant nothing.
They had accepted him as a disciple…
Then effectively abandoned him.
“The Demon King’s Tower?” “Yeah.
For some reason, all of us thought of you as part of the same party.
But now that I think about it…You weren’t.
We all assumed you already knew everything, so nobody ever bothered mentioning it.” She paused for a moment before shaking her head.
“Max wasn’t from Thyles.” “You mean he had a different nationality?
But…” “No.
Listen first.
Max…Maximilian.
He wasn’t from this world.” Looking Ivan directly in the eyes, Enrique enunciated every word as though carving them into his very soul.
“You weren’t the first.
And you won’t be the last.” *** You’ve been calling people like yourselves those who came through Possession because it’s easier.
But a more accurate description would be— Those who were brought here.
People who appeared out of nowhere whenever the balance of the world tilted.
Not common…
Yet every century, one or two inevitably emerged.
As though seasoning a chaotic world, they’d suddenly appear…
Cause something to happen…
Then disappear.
Enrique knew people like that.
She had even met several of them.
Maximilian.
He had been one of them as well.
An ordinary man who longed for his homeland.
Yet one who courageously walked onto the battlefield.
Even she—a vampire—had chosen to follow behind him.
That was the kind of man he was.
Standing at the very front.
Smiling.
Making everyone else want to follow him.
A hero.
The Hero.
The slayer of the Demon King.
And simply…
An ordinary man.
A lonely outsider until the very end.
Now gone forever.
That was how Enrique remembered him.
The brave stranger who had drawn his sword to protect a common girl from Thyles—the one who had taken her in.
“So that’s why we never say the Hero was ‘born.’ We say…’The Hero appeared’.”