Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 50
>Chapter Title: Stalker vs. Stalker (5)
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Contrary to what many might misunderstand, Ivan was a man of great common sense.
Just as it was common sense for a terrorist attack to occur at an academy's entrance ceremony. The world was full of obvious common sense and the unenlightened, pre-modern citizens who refused to believe in it.
But Ivan did not blame them. He was, after all, a cultured modern man with an open mind.
Instead, he packed an axe and a pistol.
Because in most cases, action was more helpful in resolving situations than persuasion.
This was how Ivan became embroiled in the Pritschenkaya bombing incident.
*
The incident began as it always did: with him tailing Esidis.
As usual, Ivan was following Esidis. His stealth was perfect, the target would be safe, and there were no other threats in the vicinity. It was a day like any other.
‘Hmm….’
She eats a lot of cookies. Ivan made a mental note to set aside some time to explain to her the problems typically caused by the fat, carbohydrates, and sugar contained in chocolate cookies.
Esidis already had excessive fat deposits in certain areas. This wouldn't be an issue for a bard, but if she were ever to wield a weapon in the future, it would prove to be a significant disadvantage.
I should prepare some dried carrot chips to replace her snacks. Ivan nodded to himself and continued to shadow Esidis.
After a while, Ivan suddenly felt a gaze on him and turned his head.
“What are you doing?”
“Working.”
Isabelle had appeared, glaring at him with a surprisingly fierce look in her eyes.
She slowly shifted her gaze and, upon spotting Esidis in the distance ahead of Ivan, scowled.
It was incomprehensible, but something seemed to have upset her. However, there was no need to worry.
Ivan ran an orphanage. This meant he was an expert at soothing children who were upset for reasons unknown. Besides, he hadn't done anything that could have possibly offended Isabelle.
“Why are you watching Essie?”
“…What?”
“Essie. You’re spying on Essie right now.”
“A misunderstanding.”
He had never spied on her. He was proudly carrying out his protection detail.
The only thing he hadn't anticipated was Isabelle appearing on campus when she should have been in class.
“What about class?”
“I saw you out the window… Wait, is my class really what’s important right now?”
“…? It is important. A student shouldn't skip class.”
If she were one of his orphans, he would have dragged her to the lecture hall by force. Had Isabelle forgotten that her home country was covering her full tuition?
Ivan clicked his tongue and said,
“Unless you're on a full scholarship, you should focus on your studies. Saint Yansk University is an expensive school.”
“Th-Ugh…! That may be true, but! Are you going to keep changing the subject?! I asked why you were spying on Essie!”
“That is not your concern.”
“What…?!”
Isabelle looked deeply hurt. It was incomprehensible. Why would she be hurt by his telling her to focus on her studies and not worry about his protection detail?
But Ivan was a kind man, so he knew how to handle the feelings of an adolescent (she was not) student.
For a young adolescent struggling with inexplicable turmoil, what they needed most was time alone. (This was, of course, not true.)
As a considerate adult, Ivan decided not to nag her about returning to class. He simply nodded and stepped back.
“Hey, where are you going? At least give me an explanation! Make an excuse! Ugh, aaargh!!”
Leaving the panicking Isabelle behind, Ivan made a swift exit. Isabelle, not even thinking of chasing him, stared blankly at his retreating back before letting out a hollow laugh.
“Do I really have to tie him up somewhere? It feels like I need to tie him down and teach him how to talk to people…”
I saw him out the window during class and slipped out, and what do I find?
He's trotting after a passing Esidis, scribbling something in a notebook.
Knowing his personality, I figure he must be working on something, but still.
Still…!
“I’m throwing myself at him, and he’s shadowing my friend…?”
Isabelle chuckled dryly, then rubbed her face with her hands a few times.
Alright.
I have a new goal.
The ‘realm of the superhuman’? Right. That means I have to enter that realm just to be able to cross swords with that madman, doesn't it?
I'll reach that realm as quickly as possible and get strong enough to beat him, one way or another.
Then I’ll catch him, neutralize him, and tie him up. And slowly. Thoroughly. I’ll teach him the ways of the world, one by one.
Community service. Yes, I'll do it as an act of community service. Who else is going to take in that poor, lonely old man (he was not) if not me?
*
Esidis was wandering again today, unable to find an ensemble room.
The orchestral ensemble, which included a group performance assessment, was her most dreaded class. Because no one was ever willing to let her join their group.
And so, she was trudging along in sorrow.
“The ensemble room that’s short one member is Room 154.”
“…?!”
Just then, Ivan suddenly appeared at her side and approached her.
“Eek!?”
“Your class is [Ensemble Practice 1]. Any more absences and you’ll be cutting it close, won’t you?”
“H-How did you know…?”
“That’s not what you should be worried about right now.”
Ivan took a suspicious-looking notebook from his coat and spoke quietly.
“Midterm results: Ensemble Practice, D. Harmony, C. Sight-singing and Ear Training, B+. Chamber Music, C. String Ensemble, D. Counterpoint, B+. Your theory grades were generally better than your practicals. But a GPA in the mid-2.0s is a problem.”
“Ah, ahh….”
“Why did you apply to the conservatory?”
Ivan gazed at Esidis with his deep-set eyes.
Having never imagined she'd hear such words from the man she had thought of as just a stalker, Esidis swallowed hard and lowered her head.
Why? Because, because… she wanted to.
She wanted to hold an instrument, not a weapon.
Esidis fidgeted with her fingertips, choosing her words carefully.
“An instrument, an instrument is… because it’s a bridge… that connects… people…”
“Excellent.”
Ivan smiled faintly.
At the unexpected smile, Esidis’s eyes widened.
She stared blankly at Ivan’s face, then flinched and faltered.
That low, husky voice. And those neat eyes that curved gently.
He looked… familiar.
She lifted her hand without thinking. Palm open, slowly.
She covered his bushy, eye-catching beard with her palm, peeking so that only the bridge of his nose and his eyes were visible.
Through the gap, Esidis’s trembling eyes met Ivan’s deep gaze.
“Could it be…? No, but. Uncle is dead…”
“Take care of your health.”
Ivan was an efficient man; he didn't waste time indulging Esidis’s nonsense.
What this little girl was thinking was a secondary issue. Weren't there more important things to attend to?
He had to prevent any more absences, if only to make up for her abysmal grades.
Ivan led Esidis to the main orchestra building’s ensemble room and handed a lunch box to the still-dazed, muttering girl.
It was a snack box containing dried carrot chips.
“Take care of your health. Einar would care more about your health than your studies. Still, that’s no reason for a student to neglect her classes. You’re late. Go on in.”
Ivan pushed the stammering Esidis into the string ensemble room and checked his watch.
By the time her ensemble class ended, Mord's lecture would also be over, which meant he no longer needed to guard Esidis.
Things will get busy.
Ivan let out a short laugh and walked away. Now he just had to guard Isabelle during the night, and then he could head home.
It was a day like any other.
On the third day of such ordinary days.
His pastoral days as a bodyguard—guarding Esidis by day and patrolling near Isabelle’s house by night—
came to an end when the Pritschenkaya Central Bank, the Satera Amphitheater, Saint Yansk University, Saint Chereta Cathedral, and the North Frachenko Central Police Agency all exploded at the exact same time.
That night, Pritschenkaya burned white.
*
Ivan walked slowly, conscious of the pistol inside his coat.
It was the third night of his patrol in front of Isabelle’s house.
“Hm.”
By his third lap around her house, he realized he had encountered the same passerby for the third time.
At a similar distance from Isabelle’s house, but at different points each time.
‘His center of gravity is shifted to the right. Right-handed. Armed with a pistol on his left hip. The bulge in his chest suggests he’s wearing a ballistic plate.’
Ivan glanced away as he casually brushed past the man.
‘Wearing a plate means he has no sense for lines of fire. This one is a grunt.’
The suspicious man scanned his surroundings before melting back into the darkness of the street.
Counting slowly to ten, Ivan quietly closed his eyes.
Tailing a wary target from directly behind is amateurish. A trained agent would never shadow someone that way.
Mana coiled within Ivan’s body. Slowly, it felt like chains wrapping around and tightening his nerve bundles.
When he opened his eyes again, he had stepped into a state of perception where a falling leaf seemed to drift slowly through the air.
He took a slow, deep breath. His activated senses began to break down the scents in the air.
It is said that a rat can identify every animal on a mountain from the wind sweeping across its slopes. The olfactory sense of an animal is often like this—a sense that far surpasses the density of olfactory epithelial cells in a human.
But a superhuman could come infinitely close. It was the ability to forcibly activate one’s sensory organs and analyze the input from each awakened nerve in fractions of a second.
Not all superhumans could utilize such senses. This was a matter of training, not talent. Most who awakened their superhuman senses dedicated their training entirely to combat performance.
But Ivan was different. He was more specialized in this area than in direct combat.
No, to be precise.
He had honed his abilities in this field to a level far superior to any other superhuman.
Target tracking and assassination, small-scale combat, securing objectives, and disrupting enemy reconnaissance.
Even among the elite of the elite in the unit known as the Allied Kingdom’s finest reconnaissance force, he was a man who prided himself on standing head and shoulders above the rest.
Ivan slowly exhaled the breath he had drawn and began to walk.
Countless scents flowed on the urban winds that gusted between the city’s buildings.
Extremely developed senses induce synesthesia. Ivan was now walking through the darkness, his eyes fixed on the vividly glowing ‘threads of scent.’
Slowly, without rushing.
Straight toward his prey.
Within Pritschenkaya, any target he encountered more than once could never escape his senses.
Ivan strode forward.
Like a snake coiled in the darkness, waiting patiently for its target to crawl into the heart of its lair.