In the game, Elysium Academy was attacked by villains whenever things got dull. And the attackers were different every time. The Republic, black mages, barbarians, heretics, and so on. A veritable course meal.
I'd wondered why, with all that vigilance, they got breached every single time—
'Turns out the Elite Security Corps was a villains' den from the start.'
I clicked my tongue inwardly, looking at the squad members seated around the round table. The Saintess of the Outer Gods, the Spear Specter, a barbarian, even the headmaster's trigger. Villains I'd hunted high and low for in the game were sitting here cozy as could be.
'My luck's good.'
The corners of my mouth lifted on their own.
Yeonjol was not an easy game. And what I'd been possessed into was Hard Mode, no less. You could never clear it by walking only the peaceful road. You had to take on every risk. And here was risk coming to me of its own accord — how could I not be glad?
"Sit."
Hanswell offered an empty seat. When I sat, Hanswell pointed at me and spoke.
"This is our first newcomer in a long while. You all feel keenly how short-handed we are. Don't go pulling any pointless nonsense."
"The entrance ceremony's the day after tomorrow, and they're only now topping up the Elite Corps. What a shit show."
Scarlett cut Hanswell off, a laugh in her voice. Hanswell's brows stiffened.
"We're short even one pair of hands, so they slotted someone in, however hastily."
"The other squads got topped up ages ago. Because you need time to train people."
Struck at the heart of it, Hanswell bit his lip.
"Well, shit or not, what's got to be done gets done."
Scarlett rose with a smile in her eyes. In her hand was a crudely made liquor bottle.
"Scarlett, sit down."
"Why? It's our squad's tradition."
"Have you already forgotten the mess last time?"
"Who knew that newcomer couldn't hold his liquor? Right?"
Scarlett wore a fox-like smile and looked around at the members as if seeking agreement. Rudric only gave a disinterested nod; Milo studiously avoided her gaze.
"Tradition is important. It deserves to be respected."
Volkan said it in a grave voice, unbecoming of a barbarian.
"He agrees, see?"
Scarlett smiled at Hanswell. Hanswell bit his lip.
"Here, down it in one. That's the tradition."
Scarlett held out a poured glass to me.
I swirled the glass lightly. The smell of strong liquor stung my nose. Through it, very faintly, came a sweet scent.
'Poison.'
It wasn't a violent poison that took effect at once. A very insidious poison that stacks several times over, then bares its fangs on a delay.
When I raised the glass, savage gazes fixed on me. I emptied it with those gazes for a side dish.
And then—.
"Delicious."
I shook the empty glass at Scarlett.
"Interesting."
The red corners of Scarlett's mouth curled up deep. The kind of smile you'd expect from the Saintess of the Outer Gods — the monstrous villainess who'd offered up a thousand students as sacrifices.
'I won't be getting bored.'
I smiled back.
***
"Scarlett is a dangerous woman. It's not wise to make an enemy of her."
Hanswell had called me outside, apart, and warned me seriously.
I knew better than Hanswell how dangerous Scarlett was. The Saintess of the Outer Gods was the symbolic villain who throws the latter-half story wide open. Still, Hanswell was more dangerous than Scarlett. If the Saintess of the Outer Gods was the start of the latter half, the headmaster was its main villain.
Mishandle Hanswell, and the headmaster comes leaping out. Even now there was a strong chance the headmaster was watching the 42nd Squad.
'I'll have to be careful.'
With the opponent being that headmaster, even I couldn't help feeling tense.
"Whew. They'll haze you hard. Still, they're not bad people."
Every one of them a heavyweight villain, and he says they're not bad sorts—. I let out a snort.
"You must be tired, so rest first. The rooms are two to a room; you'll share with Milo. It's over there."
Hanswell showed me the room.
The room was spare. Two beds and two wardrobes, that was all. And yet it was an utter mess. Just like a doghouse.
I sat on the marginally better bed and went back over the situation.
'The villains are all gathered here.'
That said, killing the villains now was a poor move. They hadn't caused any trouble yet. Dealing with them preemptively could invite needless suspicion, and might provoke the headmaster.
And besides—
Objective: Evangeline's graduation
Reward: Wish Voucher
On failure: Death
The objective wasn't to kill villains; it was Evangeline's graduation. The 42nd Squad's villains were heavyweights, sure, but killing them wouldn't graduate Evangeline. Above all, killing Scarlett early would only mean someone else became the Saintess of the Outer Gods.
'I'll have to reform them.'
A kind of side quest.
***
"Milo, how did this come to pass?"
At the voice soft enough to melt your ears, Milo flinched.
Milo loved beauties. No — he was crazy for them. He'd once fought to the death for a beauty he'd only just met. Scarlett was striking enough that, normally, Milo would welcome her with both arms raised — yet Milo was afraid of her. Because he knew the venom hidden behind that radiant smile.
"Hm? Milo, answer me."
Milo really did want to answer. But he couldn't. How could he say he'd gotten his ass beaten by a brand-new recruit? There was no proof, anyway.
"You've gotten pretty comfortable lately, hm?"
Scarlett's chilly words brushed down his back. Milo swallowed dryly and shook his head.
"It's nothing like that."
"Oh? Looks like it to me. Here I thought you'd forgotten Charlotte."
At the word Charlotte, Milo's expression froze.
"Charlotte will come back. And when she does, how heartbroken would she be to find her place gone? Hm? If it were me, my heart would just sink."
Milo bit down hard on his lip. Rudric took a deep drag of his cigarette, and Volkan quietly prayed.
Scarlett looked around at the members and whispered.
"Bear it in mind. The reason you're all in one piece is thanks to Charlotte's sacrifice."
Then she gently stroked Milo's head.
'Damn it.'
Milo scratched his head furiously and headed for his room. He, too, had meant to beat the rookie out. The problem was that the rookie was good at fighting. Not just good — fucking good. Milo hadn't grazed so much as a hair on him. But telling the truth would wound his pride.
'Motherf—.'
Muttering a curse, Milo opened the door.
There, a savage back came into view. A lean body, yet a back packed with muscle. Rough scars covered that muscle. The scars were so hideous he looked just like a monster.
Above all......
"Hm?"
When the man turned at the sound of someone, a bizarre scar showed on the right side of his chest. A mark as if thousands of teeth had chewed it. Just looking at it chilled him to the core. He couldn't begin to imagine what kind of life the man had lived.
Just then, his eyes met the back's owner.
"Well now, I'll have to teach you how to knock."
Grave said, indifferently clenching a fist.
"No, this is my room—"
Milo was genuinely wronged.
***
I opened my eyes at a rustling sound.
'An unfamiliar ceiling.'
As I muttered the joke and exhaled, the things that had built up pushed gently out of me. The smell of rot and blood filled the room.
I slowly got up and loosened my body. Crrk — though I'd slept only briefly, my body was stiff as a corpse. An unavoidable side effect.
Just then, someone approached. It was Milo. Milo abruptly threw a punch at me. I'd only educated him yesterday, and already he could come at me — good spirit.
I shifted my foot lightly. Mid-punch, Milo went sprawling. Thud! Even after the heavy sound, Milo got right back up and lunged.
"Motherf—! Drop dead!"
"Your stance is too high."
I clicked my tongue and kicked him again. When my foot landed clean on his solar plexus, Milo gagged.
"What the hell? He was definitely asleep."
Milo said, drooling.
"I don't sleep."
"What the fuck does that mean—"
Milo cursed roughly and lunged. I didn't bother explaining and moved my fist. It landed square on his face. Kek—. Milo crumpled. I followed up and threw another. Milo hastily raised his guard.
"You guard by watching the attack. Throw up a sloppy guard like that and you get hit, like so."
"Wait a—. Urk!"
"Now, again. This time, block it properly."
I kindly corrected Milo's stance. He said something, but I didn't bother to take it in. Milo was a guy closer to beast than man. There was no need for words.
After kicking him for a while, Milo threw both hands up and barked.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
I loosened my hands with satisfaction.
"Good morning exercise. Same again tomorrow."
"Morning exercise?"
Milo muttered with a face like he'd eaten shit. I stretched, refreshed. As if he'd never been beaten, Milo put on a sullen face again.
"It's time for assignments. Normally the rookie goes around waking everyone—"
"And?"
"Just saying."
Milo grumbled quietly. He'd just been beaten, yet his attitude was awfully stiff.
"How are assignments handed out?"
"At morning roll call, the vice-leader hands out the support requests that come in from each squad. But tomorrow's the entrance ceremony, so it'll all be ceremony support. Ah, and from today the new students arrive, so there'll be freshman guidance too."
"Freshman guidance?"
"Picking up the new students and ferrying them to the dorms."
Milo explained, grumbling.
'Ah, the intro.'
Yeonjol's intro was entering the academy by carriage. It seemed the Security Corps ran those carriages too. Welcome news to hear.
"Freshman escort sounds good for me."
"And? So?"
Milo looked at me with a what-of-it face. He really was dim. I kindly repeated it, slow and clear.
"I want to take the freshman escort."
"The freshman escort usually goes to Rudric. It's the academy's first impression, after all. Only the handsome and the pretty get picked."
"Lucky for me. I'm handsome."
"Where's that confidence—. No, it's not about wanting to. The vice-leader assigns it."
"Ah, I misspoke."
When I nodded lightly as if I'd understood, Milo looked relieved. Looking at him, I said firmly.
"I will take the freshman escort."
Milo blinked dumbly. When he belatedly grasped my words, his face turned like he'd eaten shit. Then he gave a reluctant nod.
"Good."
I tidied my disheveled hair.
"That's not how it works, I told you—"
Milo grumbled quietly.
Just then, a broadcast came from a magic tool mounted on the ceiling.
[This morning's roll call will be held outdoors.]
A sound that rang familiar somehow.