The Academy Entrance Train Is Always Targeted by Terrorists (3) Igorevich Station was a small, quiet rural stop.
It existed for one purpose and one purpose only: serving as the Krasilof–Droan border checkpoint.
The little village surrounding it was nothing more than a humble settlement built around that role.
As a result, very few passengers ever got off here.
Local villagers.
Or freight merchants.
That was all.
‘They’re sloppy.’ The three men standing in one corner of the station were unmistakably suspicious.
First, the man sitting in the waiting room, glancing at the clock while pretending to read a newspaper.
He looked as though he was simply checking the train schedule.
He wasn’t.
He had already let three trains come and go.
Next, the man dozing with his arms folded.
At first glance, he seemed like an ordinary traveler killing time.
But every time Ivan stood up and headed toward either the restroom or the newspaper stand, the man quietly opened his eyes to watch him.
Finally…
The man selling dried vegetables in the corner of the waiting room.
At this point, Ivan almost laughed.
Not only had the fellow failed to sell a single vegetable to anyone inside the station, but who would even buy dried vegetables at a nearly deserted rural station like this?
Most decisively of all, Ivan had grown up as a tenant farmer.
He could tell the condition of those vegetables at a glance.
They hadn’t been dried for preservation.
They had simply been abandoned until they shriveled.
Ivan slipped a hand beneath his newspaper and gripped his pistol.
Nine o’clock.
The train carrying Princess Esidisi would arrive soon.
Well…
I should confirm it first.
He slowly stood, folded the newspaper, and walked toward the trash bin.
In the same motion, he shoved the muzzle of his pistol directly beneath the nape of the sleeping man’s neck.
“!!” “Quiet.” The man’s eyes widened in shock as he instinctively reached inside his coat with his right hand.
The icy touch of the barrel froze him in place.
Good.
A pistol in his left breast pocket.
Judging by how quickly he reacted, he’s received some training.
“H-Hey!
What are you doing over there?!” “Stop!” The other two men in the waiting room jumped to their feet simultaneously.
Ridiculous.
The pistol was hidden beneath the newspaper.
From where they stood, it merely looked as though Ivan had placed a hand on the back of the man’s neck.
Which meant…
The three of them were working together.
Still…
One last confirmation.
Elizaveta had said he wouldn’t need support.
But there was always the possibility she had secretly sent agents anyway.
“Where does your loyalty lie?” “W-What?” If the man had been one of Elizaveta’s operatives—someone loyal to the Krasilof royal family—he would never have questioned those words.
It was one of the standard opening questions used not only by the Extermination Unit but also by intelligence agents throughout the kingdom.
To soldiers stationed on the front lines, it carried the same meaning as: “Stop!
Move and I’ll fire!” It was the first question…
And perhaps the last.
Even if one had to lie, one answered immediately.
So this man…
Was nothing more than a mercenary working for money.
Bang!
The bullet burst from the muzzle, severing the man’s cervical spine.
The man collapsed before he could even react.
“Damn it!!” “Shoot that bastard!!” The vegetable vendor and the newspaper reader scrambled to their feet, drawing pistols from inside their coats.
That told Ivan several things.
First…
They were indeed accomplices.
Second…
They were amateurs.
Third…
They were not agents of the Krasilof Kingdom.
And lastly…
They had never faced someone who could truly be called strong.
Bang!
Bang!
Their shots flew almost reflexively.
One grazed over Ivan’s shoulder.
Another passed beside his head.
Their aim isn’t bad.
Mercenaries.
But they don’t even know how to detect a firing line.
Cheap mercenaries.
As they adjusted their stances to fire again…
Ivan was already swinging his axe at the vegetable vendor—while simultaneously leveling his pistol at the newspaper reader.
Slash!
Bang!
“AAAAAGH!!” The vegetable vendor screamed as both of his wrists were severed in a single stroke.
The other man’s bullet hole appeared squarely between his eyebrows.
He died without making a sound.
Ivan wiped the blood from his axe on the vegetable vendor’s coat before walking over.
“Is it just the three of you?” “Ghh…
Ngh…
W-Where did a monster like you…” “…Monster?” Ivan tilted his head.
A monster?
For something like this?
That seemed like a rather absurd thing to say from people planning to challenge Berserker Einar.
If Einar himself had come…
There wouldn’t even have been a fight.
That madman would have cleaved the entire waiting room apart in one swing.
“T-This wasn’t…
wasn’t what they told us…!” The man was bleeding badly.
Once both the radial and ulnar arteries in the wrists were severed, death within five minutes was almost guaranteed without proper treatment.
And both of his hands had been cut off.
His face had already turned deathly pale.
His jaw trembled uncontrollably.
Ivan sighed and searched through the man’s coat himself.
Without hands, the man couldn’t exactly do it.
A scrap of paper.
An old pouch containing a few eastern copper coins.
Naturally, no identification.
And…
A small device fitted with a strange button.
The mana flowing through it was extremely faint.
A signaling device.
“If you don’t stop the bleeding, you’ll be dead within three minutes.” “Where are the others?” “T-The railway…” “How many?” “Fifteen…
Y-You can’t handle them alone…!
I-I’ll help you!
P-Please spare me!
They’re all armed…
A-And our boss is there too!
He’s a real monster!
Spare me, and I’ll create a distraction!” The vegetable vendor shouted desperately through trembling lips.
Of course he wanted to live.
Anyone would.
Watching blood pour endlessly from one’s own body was enough to drive anyone insane.
Ivan nodded.
Hope immediately returned to the man’s face.
“So you were left behind to signal your boss if something unexpected happened.” “You’re the scouting team.” “Y-Yes!
I-I can still be useful!” This man didn’t know about detecting firing lines.
Which meant…
His boss probably wasn’t much better.
“Did they tell you who was on the train?” “T-They said…
it was transporting gold bars…!
A trade shipment Droan was sending to Krasilof…!” “I see.” “Y-You’ll spare me, right?
I answered everything!
I didn’t lie!” “No.” “You mixed truth with lies.” “No!
I swear!” Ivan looked down at him coldly.
“When you said you were useful.” “…What?” These men were nothing more than bandits working for pocket change.
No amount of torture would produce worthwhile intelligence from them.
The boss…
That was a different story.
At the very least, he might reveal the organization’s connections.
Crunch!
Ivan rose and buried his axe into the man’s skull.
With a sickening crack, the body went limp.
He clicked the receiver, using the direction of the mana signal to determine where it originated.
Not far.
Ivan wiped the axe clean on the corpse’s coat before hanging it back on his belt.
The time was 9:03.
If the train remained on schedule, it would arrive at the station at ten.
The terrorist attack would occur in less than an hour.
Which meant— “Plenty of time.” Ivan smirked as he cleaned up the bodies.
Five minutes was enough to erase every trace of blood and combat.
After all…
One of the most important lessons taught in the Extermination Unit was eliminating evidence.
*** There was a reason Ivan wasn’t in a hurry.
According to the Academy’s formula…
A train terrorist attack could never kill the protagonist or any of the main characters.
When the train was attacked, the protagonist would receive someone’s help, escape safely, and arrive at the Academy without incident.
From the beginning…
Ivan had never intended to stop the terrorist attack.
This is the tutorial.
Ivan sprinted through the forest.
Whenever the mana signal from the receiver weakened, he pressed the button again to reestablish the direction.
A tutorial exists to help the player adapt to the game.
Which explained why they had hired such pitiful bandits to ambush the children of the Hero’s Party.
It was an encounter designed to familiarize low-level players with combat.
At first, Ivan had wondered which member of the Hero’s Party’s children was the true protagonist.
He quickly arrived at the answer.
All of them.
Every one of them was a protagonist.
Imagine beginning a game by creating a character.
The game would inevitably present several archetype characters—characters with their own established storylines.
More importantly…
Each possessed a completely different class or specialty.
Isabelle, the Hero’s daughter.
A dual-class Mage and Warrior.
Oscar, the knight’s son.
A Knight.
Elpihera, the mage’s daughter.
A Mage.
Esidisi, the Berserker’s daughter.
Presumably a dual-class Bard and Berserker.
Lucia, the Thief’s disciple.
Either a Thief or an Assassin.
When the player selected one of those characters…
Their tutorial would naturally be resolving the train terrorist attack.
That realization led Ivan to a different conclusion.
If every character shares the same tutorial…
Then I can identify the terrorist organization beforehand.
Perhaps they could get away with it once.
Twice, maybe.
But if they carried out the exact same operation six times…
Someone would inevitably notice the pattern.
Ivan raced through the undergrowth and clicked the receiver once more.
This time, the mana signal came from very nearby.
I’ll leave the tutorial to the protagonists.
I’ll eliminate the variables.
He had no intention of preventing the train attack itself.
The attack was a constant.
If he stopped it outright, events might simply unfold in another, less predictable way.
Instead…
He would identify the organization behind the attack.
Then, after entering the Academy…
He would track down every trace of them and erase them.
Avoid direct confrontation.
Operate from the shadows.
Gather intelligence.
Exterminate every potential threat.
That…
Was the way of the Extermination Unit.