The moment the alert popped up, I immediately cast Telekinesis above my head.
Thud! Crack-crack-crack.
A heavy popping sound followed by gravel-like shards raining down.
The flowerpot that fell from the sky was as big as a human head.
If I hadn’t raised a barrier in time, my neck would have snapped.
“Who is it.”
There was no way a flowerpot of that size jumped off on its own, so I lifted my head to look for the culprit.
A window on the third floor was open, but there was no sign of anyone.
Already fled?
[Alert]
[You have cleared a Death Branch.]
[You have earned Achievement Points as a reward.]
“……”
Maybe someone dropped it by accident… Would that be too optimistic?
There might be someone in this academy trying to kill Winter Winslet.
Swallowing my discomfort, I entered the Magic Department building.
At least inside the building, there was no risk of flowerpots falling on my head.
Near the faculty-only entrance, there was a mailbox, and in the slot labeled Winter Winslet were several envelopes.
I was reaching out to grab them in passing when it happened.
[Warning]
[A Death Branch has been updated.]
Again?
I hastily looked around, but there was no one nearby.
The ceiling was intact above me.
But when I looked forward again, I saw the mailbox opening its “mouth” to bite down on my hand.
…The mailbox?
I instantly poured mana into my right hand and slammed it down.
Crunch.
Screech!
The mailbox—or rather, the mimic pretending to be a mailbox—screamed and went flying.
For a moment, I was speechless.
Why the hell was a dungeon-dwelling monster pretending to be a mailbox in someone else’s academy?
[Alert]
[You have cleared a Death Branch.]
[You have earned Achievement Points as a reward.]
Pulling out the letters from the mimic’s gaping mouth, I found the envelopes soaked in saliva.
I considered throwing them away, but in case they were important documents, I carried them to my office.
Then I stared at them narrowly.
…They wouldn’t have set a trap on the documents themselves, would they?
At a glance, they looked like ordinary mail.
But my sense of caution screamed at me.
Don’t open them carelessly.
I decided I wouldn’t open them unless it was truly urgent and important, so I scanned the titles written on the envelopes first.
<(Urgent) ‘Please approve by this morning.’>
<(Must Read) Adjustment of 1st Semester Magic University Research Fund Performance.>
<Royal Magic Department, Bureau of Magical Crime Investigation. Request for Witness Appearance regarding Illegal Production and Distribution of Restricted Magical Substances within the Academy.>
<‘Sending the Draft Speech for the Entrance Ceremony.’>
<Notice of Tenure Review Rejection.>
…Damn devils.
As if possessed, I opened one of the envelopes, and the moment I pulled out the paper inside, I felt slight resistance.
Like pulling a fine thread connected to a trap.
Of course.
Whoosh!
The paper burst into flames.
The fire quickly consumed the sheet, leaving black burn marks, and those marks formed lines… a completed pattern.
A magic circle.
In other words, a Priest-Class Explosive Scroll.
Of course.
Boom!
[Warning]
[A Death Branch has been updated.]
This time, the explosion was faster than the alert.
Crazy bastards.
* * *
There’s a saying that curiosity kills the cat.
But Winter Winslet was no cat; he was a high-tier mage who had reached the 7th Class, and a shoddy Priest-Class Explosive Scroll couldn’t leave a single scratch on him.
Fshhhh…
Left behind in the aftermath of the explosion was a thin cocoon of ice shaped like a hemisphere, shielding me.
For someone like Winter Winslet, who possessed “S-rank” “Mana” and “Elemental Ice” talent, unconscious-level defense without casting a spell was possible.
Though the mana consumption efficiency was worse.
[Alert]
[You have cleared a Death Branch.]
[You have earned Achievement Points as a reward.]
Whoosh.
Burning the remaining unopened letters with a flame spell, I was finally certain.
The Royal Academy of Lorencia.
There was someone inside this place who wanted Winter Winslet dead.
Who could it be?
Whoever had prepared such sly little tricks for me on my very first day as Winter Winslet.
I would soon meet the list of suspects.
After all sorts of twists and turns, I finally arrived at the monthly faculty meeting.
The professors, sitting around the rectangular table in the small conference room, chatting idly, all fell silent the moment I opened the door.
A brief stillness.
“Oh, Professor Winslet has joined us. Surprisingly.”
Dozens of pairs of eyes locked onto me, led by the old man seated at the head of the table.
The stares directed at me fell into two clear categories.
Wariness and hostility—or fear and avoidance.
The latter vastly outnumbered the former, but both had one thing in common…
[Alert]
[This individual’s Death Flag has been activated.]
I remembered something I had forgotten.
One of Winter Winslet’s nicknames had been “That Infamous Bastard of the Academy.”
I counted how many professors present had active Death Flags toward me, and of course.
All of them.
The whole world was one giant Death Flag.
* * *
The moment Professor Winslet swept into the room with his long golden hair flowing, the atmosphere chilled.
Professor Breda, seated nearest the entrance, rubbed her arms as if the temperature had actually dropped three degrees Celsius.
Seated and looking up, Professor Winslet was tall like a coat rack, and his terracotta-still, inorganic aura made him seem inhuman.
His cold, dry expression was unreadable.
Only after he passed by and sat in an empty seat did Professor Breda dare to exhale.
She whispered to her colleague sitting beside her.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Exactly. He never shows up to these things…”
That agreement came from Professor Charles, who taught basic magic.
Further down sat Professor Corrigan, who, pitifully, had started hiccuping.
She taught Transformation Magic and was timid by nature.
“Hiccup!”
“Be careful. If you make eye contact again, who knows what crazy shit he’ll pull.”
Not just this trio; the entire room was on edge at Professor Winslet’s unannounced appearance.
Only the sound of dry swallowing echoed as Professor Winslet scanned the room briefly and spoke.
“How long are you going to sit there in silence? The meeting?”
“Ahem, hem!”
The old man at the head of the table reluctantly began the proceedings.
“Since everyone is here, let’s begin the fifth faculty meeting of this year. I am Kimberly Kelly, Dean of the Second Magic University. As the First Magic University’s dean position is currently vacant, I will be presiding over this meeting in that capacity.”
The previous dean, who should have been here, had lost his head last winter for offending Professor Winslet.
That explained why Dean Kelly kept stealing glances at him while speaking.
“First, please check the monthly work plans distributed to your seats. The first agenda item is a directive from the Academic Affairs Office.”
Even after the meeting began, most eyes were still on Professor Winslet.
Professor Breda glanced at his side profile as he tilted the paper slightly, scanning it with his eyes.
He looked almost unfamiliar with the document, and Breda smirked inwardly.
‘Of course. He’s probably never read one before.’
Dean Kelly continued.
“There’s a report that some staff members from the First Magic University failed to complete mandatory ethics training. Those who haven’t attended must participate in the supplementary session this weekend to avoid penalties. The list of those who missed anti-corruption and conflict-of-interest training includes… um, Professor Winslet?”
Flinch.
Dean Kelly froze as soon as he finished speaking.
Everyone but Professor Winslet was now staring at him.
“Uh… Did I say something wrong?”
“Dean Kelly!”
A hand shot up.
“Please speak, Professor Corrigan.”
Corrigan raising her hand mid-meeting was unusual; she rarely spoke up.
But what she said was even more unexpected.
“Our Professor Winter doesn’t do things like that!”
“…Excuse me?”
Startled, the dean blinked, and Corrigan stammered on, her voice fluctuating nervously.
“Professor Winslet, he just doesn’t! Dean Kelly, you must be new here, so you wouldn’t know! Right? Ahaha.”
It sounded absurd, but Dean Kelly swallowed his words.
Corrigan’s exaggerated tone, her desperate eyes… something felt off.
Like someone was holding a knife to her back.
Was she sending a signal?
Sensing the strange atmosphere, the dean decided to drop it.
It took a few coughs to regain his composure.
“Ahem, then, moving on. The next item concerns professors who haven’t submitted their lecture plans for the first semester. You’re required to submit them to guarantee students’ right to learn, but there is someone who hasn’t yet… Um, that would be….”
The dean adjusted his glasses and read the name on the paper.
“Again, Professor Winslet?”
Naturally, he shifted his gaze toward Winslet, only to meet his eyes and feel a chill run down his spine.
The golden-haired beauty said nothing.
He simply stared with an icy, expressionless face.
Those frozen eyes seemed to say:
Go ahead. Say one more word.
Once again, Professor Corrigan saved him.
“Dean!”
“Yes?”
“Professor Winslet doesn’t submit those!”
“……”
The dean wiped cold sweat from his brow.
Now he understood.
Corrigan wasn’t trying to disrupt the meeting; she was protecting herself from Professor Winslet’s wrath.
He gave her a subtle look of gratitude.
“T-Then let’s skip this agenda as well. Next is about last semester’s unsubmitted lecture evaluations…”
The dean trailed off.
Because, again, the name on the paper was Professor Winslet.
He glanced at Corrigan; sure enough, she was shaking her head vehemently.
Don’t cross that line.
“Hmm.”
The dean simply drew a line through every Winslet-related item on today’s agenda.
Two items remained.
“……”
The sooner the meeting ended, the sooner he could escape this deadly place, so he forced himself to continue.
“This next item is a request from the Student Affairs Office. They want to hold a half-price meal event for enrolled students during the spring semester. But since the budget is limited, they’ll prioritize support from universities or departments willing to contribute funds.”
Dean Kelly let out a relieved sigh. Finally, something that felt like a normal meeting.
“I checked yesterday, and the First Magic University has plenty of leftover funds, especially last year’s carryover. What do you all think about covering the cost from that budget?”
Screech!
The sound of a chair scraping as Professor Corrigan stood up.
Seeing her determined expression, the dean could already picture what was coming.
“Deaaaaan!”
“No way…”
“That money is Professor Winslet’s emergency fund.”
“…What.”
The dean barely managed to close his gaping mouth.
‘What kind of hellhole is this place?’
It was utter madness.