Just as strong light casts a deep shadow, the back alleys of a glittering city were dreadfully dark. The back alleys were the one place even the Security Corps wouldn't patrol.
Even in those back alleys, Milo was called a vicious one. When a skewer of a sword punched clean through his gut, Milo had laughed and torn out his opponent's throat with his teeth.
This time, though, he couldn't laugh.
'Son of a bitch, what kind of fist is this.'
The man's fists hurt like being struck with stone. Even Milo, who'd never let out so much as a groan no matter the gash, ended up screaming. And those fists pounded his body without rest.
But something was off. Normally you'd black out from a beating like this. Instead, Milo's mind only grew clearer and clearer.
'Why—'
Just then, he saw the light wreathing the man's fist. It was divine power. The man had wrapped his fists in divine power.
'Why divine power on his fists?'
Only then did Milo realize — there wasn't a single wound on his body.
The man was beating Milo and healing him at the same time. The reason was simple.
'So he can beat me forever.'
Just then, his eyes met the man's. The man's gaze was dreadfully dry and blank. Like a blacksmith hammering iron, without a trace of emotion.
"Woof! Woof!"
Milo had no choice but to bark for his life.
***
'Not bad.'
I nodded, looking at Milo.
Milo was pretty decent. His hide was tough, his reactions quick. Above all, he was incredibly tenacious. It almost made me wonder why a guy like this was working in the Security Corps.
Just then, my eyes met Milo's. Even after a beating like that, his eyes were still alive. He seemed to be lying low and watching for an opening. I asked, feigning ignorance.
"Milo, explain the 42nd Squad to me."
"The 42nd Squad's a support squad."
Even after all that beating, he spoke curtly. He had quite some spirit.
"A support squad?"
"Yeah. We've got no duties of our own; we move on support requests from the other squads."
"Odd-jobbers, then."
"Odd-jobbers? Why you—"
Bloodlust flashed in Milo's eyes. Still, he didn't lunge right away.
'A support squad. Good.'
Moving on support requests meant they could pick from a variety of posts. Exactly what I needed.
'Is my Luck at work?'
Things were going so smoothly it made me wonder.
"Who's the squad leader?"
I asked lightly, since I naturally wouldn't recognize some guard's name even if I heard it. Milo's answer, however, was anything but light.
"The squad leader is Lady Evelyn."
"Wait — Evelyn?"
"That's right."
Milo answered crookedly.
'Evelyn, a Republic officer.'
Even the Empire, master of the continent, had threatening enemies. They were collectively called the 'Empire's Ten Enemies.' The Republic was counted first among them.
The Republic preaches nothing but equality. It sounds fine at a glance, but the problem is their head — the Supreme Leader. The Supreme Leader is a man insane for equality. So insane that, for the sake of true equality, he wouldn't hesitate to turn the continent into a sea of fire. The Republic he rules stops at nothing when it makes its move. Real mad dogs that never let go once they bite.
Evelyn was a pawn of that Republic. A heavyweight pawn — one who'd once blown up the whole of Elysium Academy. And that Evelyn was the squad leader—
'This is getting interesting.'
I tapped the hilt of my sword.
"And the vice-leader?"
"The vice-leader is—"
Milo paused for a moment.
I wasn't paying close attention. Evelyn had already come up; how much more impressive could it get?
"The vice-leader is Hanswell."
Hanswell—? A name that rang a bell somewhere. I'd definitely heard it before—
Then a memory flashed through my mind.
'The headmaster's half-brother.'
The headmaster came from House Kerietan, one of the six great houses called the pillars of the Empire. Officially the headmaster was an only child, but Hanswell was the headmaster's half-brother.
There was one reason I remembered this. Because Hanswell's death drives the headmaster berserk and into a calamity. The headmaster's rampage was a forced event that couldn't be prevented on any route.
And Hanswell — the headmaster's trigger — was the vice-leader—
'Dangerous.'
With Hanswell around, the headmaster's attention would inevitably follow. That was quite troublesome and dangerous.
And at the same time, it was an opportunity.
'If I use Hanswell, I might be able to stop the headmaster's rampage.'
This was a route I'd never tried before. I hadn't even known Hanswell was in the Security Corps. It was a possibility that had opened up only because I'd joined the Corps.
'I have to use it.'
Just then, someone knocked on the warehouse door.
"Milo."
At the calm voice, Milo jumped.
"Motherf—! It's Hanswell!"
Milo shrieked as if a demon had appeared.
The door was definitely locked, yet the lock broke and it swung open without any loud noise. Then a neat-looking man appeared. Hair slicked back without a strand out of place, not a wrinkle in his attire, and sharp glasses to top it off. His appearance alone made his fastidious nature plain to see.
"Milo, why are you here?"
"V-vice-leader—"
At the sight of Hanswell, Milo flinched and lowered his eyes.
"I distinctly told you to bring the newcomer straight to me."
"That's—"
"You weren't off doing your bizarre 'rookie education' nonsense again, were you? You of all people, Milo, know best how short-handed the 42nd Squad is."
"I mean—"
"Come to think of it, you didn't do your morning shift properly today either. I warned you to mind yourself with the entrance ceremony the day after tomorrow. And why did you vanish before clock-off yesterday?"
"That was — the work was done, so just five minutes—"
"Who said you could leave five minutes early? Milo, you're frequently late on top of it. Yesterday by an hour and two minutes; today by forty-six minutes."
Hanswell poured out his nagging without pausing for breath. Even listening from the side made me dizzy. Milo's face grew paler and paler.
Then Hanswell's gaze turned to me. Sharp, hawk-like eyes, resembling the headmaster's.
"You must be the newcomer chosen this time. Grave."
"Yes, that's right."
"I'm Hanswell, vice-leader of the 42nd Squad. Work's busy, so we'll talk on the way."
Before I could even answer, Hanswell turned and left the warehouse. He seemed quite the impatient type.
Just then, Milo sidled up to me and asked cautiously.
"What about the senior re-education?"
Milo asked, side-eyeing Hanswell.
For the sake of appearances the headmaster didn't show it, but treasured Hanswell deeply — so much that when Hanswell died, the headmaster went berserk and massacred the students. And I was being asked to beat that Hanswell—. A truly horrifying suggestion.
Ignoring Milo's wistful gaze, I followed Hanswell.
Hanswell headed straight for Security Corps headquarters. The headquarters looked like a European police station. Around it, men in security uniforms bustled busily. Each floor held the offices of the various squads; the 42nd Squad's office was on the very top floor, in the farthest corner.
Hanswell took something from a cabinet and handed it to me. It was the security baton the guards carried in the game.
"Very rarely, our academy produces a trap called a Rift. The Rift is a trap whose very cause we haven't even identified — dangerous enough that even the professors can die if they stumble into the wrong one."
At the talk of Rifts, my eyes sank deep.
"Rifts are usually handled by the professors. The problem is, you can't know a Rift's nature until you enter it. You have to grasp its nature to plan how to deal with it and assemble a dispatch team. Grasping that nature is our role."
Hanswell held out the baton to me.
"When the Elite Security Corps finds a Rift, we go in first, before any student gets caught up in it. Then we grasp the Rift's nature, send a signal, and wait for rescue."
It was something I knew well. In the game, too, the Security Corps was what announced the appearance of Rifts.
At the same time, a question came up.
"Once you enter a Rift, the odds of rescue drop dramatically, don't they?"
"Nine times out of ten, you die."
Hanswell said the grim thing in a flat voice.
"If you're afraid, quit now."
I wasn't particularly afraid. Rifts were one of the reasons I'd chosen the Security Corps.
"I'm rather brave, you see."
I took the baton at once.
At that, Hanswell's gaze softened a touch. Soon, though, it turned stern again.
"Look at the bottom and you'll find four buttons."
As Hanswell said, the bottom of the baton was marked with a sword, a staff, a skull, and a holy relic, each on its own button.
"If the Rift's nature is knight, press the button with the sword; mage, the staff; black mage, the skull; priest, the holy relic. If the natures are mixed, press them together at once."
"Intuitive."
"It has to be, so it's usable even in a crisis. Of course, encountering a Rift is exceedingly rare. More often than not, you'll patrol and never see one."
Hanswell added in a flat voice. I nodded lightly.
"Here, put this on for now. It's an unplanned recruitment, so a proper uniform will be a while coming."
Hanswell held out a security uniform he'd taken from the cabinet. It bore signs someone had worn it before.
"Yes."
I took the uniform and went into the changing room.
True to Elysium Academy, the uniform's fabric was quite fine. The problem was its design. It bears repeating, but looking again, the uniform really was too sorry-ass.
'Are they trying to lull the enemy into dropping their guard?'
Clicking my tongue, I changed and stuffed the baton into my belt. Of course, I'd never have any use for the baton.
'I'll be the one pocketing it.'
A Rift was a trap of vicious difficulty, but its clear reward was just as certain. I had no intention of yielding it.
When I changed and stepped out, people I hadn't seen were seated around a table. They seemed to be the 42nd Squad's members.
And yet, their faces were familiar. For the faces of mere guards to be familiar was a very big problem.
"Oh my, a newcomer?"
A black-haired beauty with a spider-like air smiled softly. She'd taken her uniform in so far that it was short enough to bare her navel. An outie navel.
"This is Scarlett."
Hanswell explained, pointing at the woman.
'Scarlett, the Saintess of the Outer Gods.'
The Scarlett I remembered was a horrific monster covered in hundreds of tentacles. Scarlett was a heavyweight villain who showed up in the latter half of the story. After Evelyn and Hanswell, Scarlett too?
And Scarlett wasn't even the end of it. The long-haired man smoking beside her was also a familiar face.
"This is Rudric."
'Rudric, the Spear Specter.'
The Spear Specter Rudric was a guy who came packaged with Scarlett, and his martial force was considerable. Enough to take down a Sword Master single-handed.
I turned toward the big man sitting quietly in the corner. He was familiar too.
"This is Volkan."
'Volkan the Barbarian.'
Volkan was a villain who appeared in the early game. A truly savage one who wore a student's intestines around his neck like a necklace.
"The newcomer. Grave."
At Hanswell's introduction, every gaze fixed on me at once.
The squad leader a Republic officer, the vice-leader the headmaster's trigger, the members the Saintess of the Outer Gods, the Spear Specter, and a barbarian—
"A pleasure to meet you."
I meant it.
It was a real pleasure.