Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 8
>Chapter Title: These Orphans Need a Director (1)
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*
This is a story from my days serving in the Annihilation Squad.
There were generals known as the Seven Dragon Generals of the Demon King's army.
They were individuals who had gathered, each staking the fate of their race. In essence, they could be called the 'heroes' of their respective peoples.
Before the Hero's Party emerged, the Allied Kingdoms were swept away with pathetic ease.
After all, there was no way to stand against the demonkin, whose physical abilities were a superior version of humans, when they swarmed in as entire races bent on world conquest.
In other words, the war against the Demon King's army could be described as a war between humans and every other race.
Cornered, the strategists of the Allied Kingdoms devised a clever plan to overcome this crisis.
-To break the demonkin's solidarity, we must opt for a decapitation strike rather than an all-out war.
They would throw away the soldiers of the Allied Kingdoms to somehow hold the front lines.
And in the meantime, dispatch 'assassins' to assassinate the Seven Dragon Generals and dismantle the enemy's unity.
The demonkin were merely a loose collection of tribal states where the strong preyed on the weak. If they could just take out the Seven Dragon Generals, their subordinate commanders would start fighting amongst themselves for the vacant positions.
They were right.
So, the Hero's Party, in the grand scheme of things, was nothing more than an assassination squad.
Thrown into the jaws of death, yet always returning alive. A group that even the kings of many kingdoms could not touch so easily.
That was why Ivan hated the Hero's Party.
It was for a reason strikingly similar to why the Krasilov royal family had decided to disband the Annihilation Squad.
We were a blade too sharp to be held in an era of peace.
ep4. These orphans need a director.
Having received the scheduled enrollment dates for the sons and daughters of the Hero's Party through intelligence channels, Ivan was enjoying some pleasant leisure time.
The timeline he had planned was perfect.
First, Esidis, whom he had rescued a few days ago.
After her, Isabelle. The daughter of the Hero Maximilian. From the Kingdom of Tilles, departing in the first week of February.
Then, just a few days later, Oskar, the son of the knight Gilles Vert. Also departing from the Kingdom of Tilles.
There was no need to worry about these two. Tilles and Krasilov had decent diplomatic relations even before the war, and the distance between them was short, providing ample time to respond to any train attack.
And as for Elfihera, the daughter of the mage Veolgrin, she wouldn't even be coming by train in the first place.
Veolgrin's hometown was an island floating beyond the Black Sea. The Kallion Archipelago. She would be crossing over on a warship, making her safer than all the others.
Since Krasilov had no ice-free port, she would likely arrive via Tilles, but someone coming on a warship wouldn't travel without an escort.
Finally, Enrique's disciple, Lucia.
This one belongs to the Kingdom of Krasilov. Meaning, she has already arrived somewhere in this capital city.
There would be no problem checking on her last, and frankly, he had no desire to meet her anytime soon.
In short, if he just managed the train terror incident for the two new students in February, the rest would resolve themselves into issues he wouldn't need to personally intervene in.
The train terror itself was part of the tutorial, after all.
He was now completely certain, thanks to Esidis. There was no reason for him to act personally before enrollment.
Therefore.
“I'm craving kimchi jjigae.”
He was now spending his time scribbling down a 'List of Things to Eat Upon Returning to Earth'.
This time, spent in the director's office with a cup of coffee and the warmth of a crackling fire, was an invaluable moment of leisure he wouldn't trade for anything.
Tteokbokki. Not the rosé kind. Nor the soupy, large-portioned franchise style you get from delivery.
The tteokbokki he craved was the kind with a thick sauce, the authentic street food sold at snack stalls near his school. He remembered the places that sprinkled curry powder on top being the most popular.
“I want to go home…”
“Are you going to abandon us again?”
“…”
Ivan's relaxed eyes sharpened. The Kim Seon-woo within him was crushed and vanished under Ivan's ego, leaving Ivan alone to turn around.
A little kid was clinging to the window.
“How long have you been there…?”
“Since you started muttering about what you wanted to eat, Director!”
“This is the third floor.”
“But I'm famous for being a diligent student!”
“…Is wall-climbing part of our orphanage's curriculum…?”
Ivan walked straight to the window and threw it wide open. He lifted the playfully grinning child and carefully set him down inside the room.
“I won! You know it, right?”
“Don't make a competition out of things like that. Use the hallway next time. It's dangerous.”
“Aww, but I have to go this far just to win!”
There was a time-honored game at the Saint Vasilisa Orphanage: approaching the director without being noticed.
It was a wildly popular game among the children. Because Ivan was an enigmatic man who could catch a ball thrown from behind without even looking.
Besides, no matter how stealthily they moved, it was impossible to hide from Ivan.
This blunt, sharp man was, contrary to his appearance, quite harmless, making him one of the best playmates for children who judged people by their actions rather than their looks.
“I'll make you a cup of cocoa. Drink it and then go.”
“Okay!!”
Ivan didn't stop them either. After all, the orphans needed a way to make a living after they graduated.
If they could deceive his senses, they wouldn't starve no matter where they ended up.
Ivan sent the brightly smiling child out and reclaimed his peaceful leisure time.
There were about two weeks left until Isabelle boarded her train.
Until then, he was free.
Or so he thought, back then. Before one of the orphans was suddenly abducted.
*
“Hey, I asked you who you work for!”
“Look, misters, you don't seem to understand. If our director finds out about this, you'll be in huge trouble!”
“Wow, look at her! Anyone would think we were the ones who got caught!”
Krasilov's capital, Pricheñkaya, was one of the continent's major cities. Naturally, every city has its shady corners, collectively known as the 'back alleys,' and Pricheñkaya also had several 'slum districts'.
Even among the gangs and outlaws of the back alleys, there were standout groups: the hopeless dregs of society classified as 'assassination organizations'.
Stab someone with a knife, and you'll naturally face the judgment of the law. The law tends to be a bit stricter when that someone is a person of high standing, but the pay also skyrockets.
Therefore, assassination organizations were full of bastards who thought it was fine to swing a blade once, risk their lives, and then vanish on the executioner's block, as long as they got paid.
After all, assassins like Léon, who coolly emerge from the shadows, swiftly eliminate their target, and disappear, don't exist in reality.
“So who the hell is your director?!”
“I-Ivan Petrovich! Y-You've heard the name, right? Right?”
“What? Ahahahaha!!”
Of course, these guys had heard the name Ivan.
And they'd heard the surname Petrovich.
Weren't Ivan the most common first name and Petrovich the most common surname in Krasilov?
Heck, even the late king, renowned as a wise ruler, was named Ivan.
It was like asking, 'Hey, you know a guy named John Smith?'—it was bound to get a laugh. The low-ranking members of Pricheñkaya's back-alley assassination organization snickered.
Just then, a low voice echoed from the darkness of the alley.
“Wait.”
Startled, the members lowered their weapons and shuffled back. A figure emerged, walking step by step down the path they had cleared.
“Who did you say?”
“I-Ivan Petro, Petrovich… the director… sir…!”
The person scanned the captive up and down for a moment, then gave a long smile.
“So that cheeky bastard said he was retiring, only to build an assassination squad behind the scenes?”
The orphans of Saint Vasilisa, for whom sneaking up on Ivan to startle him was treated as a traditional game, could certainly be seen that way in someone else's eyes.
Especially in the eyes of an expert among experts, the one most versed in this field among all of humanity. In the eyes of 'Shadowblade' Enrique, it was bound to look that way.
He spread false rumors about his death and claimed he was retiring cleanly to start a new life.
Hah, right. A leopard can't change its spots. How could a member of the Annihilation Squad ever change their ways?
Enrique grinned and nodded.
Ivan Petrovich, identified as the leader of an evil organization that gathers orphans and trains them as assassins!
*
“An orphan was kidnapped, you say?”
“Yes, Director! Uhm… do you remember Priscilla?”
“Of course.”
Ivan had memorized the personal details of all 300-odd orphans, including the graduates.
Priscilla. No surname. 17 years old. A war orphan.
Parents unknown. He remembered taking her in when she was found begging near a military base, abandoned during the war.
She was a bit mischievous, but fundamentally a bold and talented child, so even with her graduation approaching, Ivan hadn't been too worried.
Lately, she'd been running around looking for a job…
“Who, where, when?”
“I'm not sure of the specifics, but only the overcoat Priscilla was wearing came back… This is a threat, isn't it?”
“Probably.”
Ivan took the overcoat from the teacher and inspected it meticulously.
A snagged thread on the sleeve, a badly worn collar. One button hanging loosely, about to fall off.
He scanned it without finding any particular information, then his hand suddenly stopped.
It was an ordinary handprint. Stained with dirt, it would have been unnoticeable without a closer look.
A faint scar, subtly imprinted on the palm, was faintly visible under the dirt stain.
The kind of people who brand a cross-shaped scar onto their palms.
“Enrique.”
It was the mark of that foul-tempered bastard's organization.
Since no one would be stupid enough to kidnap an orphan for money, this was either a provocation or a warning.
Or… a summons.
Ivan felt the need to adjust the schedule he had pushed to the very back because he wanted to avoid it the most.
Shadowblade Enrique. In other words.
A call from the grandmaster.
Because the Annihilation Squad was Enrique's creation.
*