Chapter 16
Chapter 16
F-class classroom.
After everyone had left for the day, Melana sat alone at her desk, writing something in her notebook.
Tap. Tap.
At some point, her hand, which had been writing furiously, stalled, and she began tapping on the empty pages.
“Tch…”
Nothing seemed to go right. The tasks that should have gone smoothly now felt completely tangled from the start.
‘Good thing the Grand Sage didn’t reprimand me. That could have been a disaster.’
A member of the Under Chain.
One of the Chain, Melana.
She was doing her best while keeping her true identity hidden.
She knew exactly how critical her position was, and how she needed to act.
When leaking information inside the academy, the most important factor isn’t the quantity or quality of information. It’s the absolute control over the methods and security.
Whether the information was false or true, if it got exposed, it would mean nothing.
Because of that, Melana had always used the most reliable, if inefficient, method to remain hidden.
Yes…
“Melana, still not done?”
“No, it’s all finished, Jeff.”
She had inserted an unrelated outsider as the information carrier.
Her friend Jeff, completely unaware of what was happening, would eventually be misled by the false information she spread.
If anyone traced the source of leaked information, it would eventually lead back to Jeff. And since Jeff wouldn’t even realize he was passing information, Melana’s safety was essentially secured.
“Melana, are you okay? You don’t look well lately. Did something happen?”
“I’m fine, just been busy with studying.”
“Ah… right. Of course, you’re the smartest among us, after all.”
Silly Jeff, completely oblivious, was Melana’s unwitting puppet.
The problem was that involving an uninformed third party lowered the accuracy of the information.
That was the case during the restaurant attack.
Using Jeff to pass information to an outsider had worked, but crucial details about the princess had been left out.
As a result, the Under Chain forces were utterly annihilated—an enormous mistake.
“Jeff.”
“Hm?”
“Have you noticed anything strange with Johan lately? Any odd behavior?”
“Hmm… not really. He just got discharged today, and we haven’t really talked.”
“I see.”
“You’re worried about Johan, aren’t you?”
“…Yes.”
“You’re definitely worried.”
The F-class coup plan.
It was a plan Melana had poured her heart into.
She had deliberately chosen F-class for herself and even for Jeff, whom she considered a friend.
Tricking Jeff was easy. Simply feeding him false family records was enough.
Jeff, thinking of her as a friend, never doubted her.
She had planned to exploit his inferiority complex to worsen the atmosphere in F-class, ultimately aiming for the expulsion of the entire class.
Expulsion wasn’t that simple, but considering the situation and the fact that it was a class of commoners, she thought it could be done.
‘Johan Damus…’
Yes, if only that noble hadn’t been there.
In retrospect, it was clear Johan had suspected her identity from the start.
It was strange from the very beginning.
‘I should’ve suspected from the fact that a noble came into F-class.’
Initially, she had thought overturning the situation Jeff created was just coincidence.
But after what happened this time, she had to change her mind.
‘I should have assumed the princess planted her own agents from the start.’
The frivolous attitude.
The seemingly worthless skills.
All of it was just a performance she had honed as the princess’s informant.
‘Creepy.’
Now that Melana realized it had all been an act, she felt an unprecedented fear toward Johan.
That cold and ruthless noble was undoubtedly still probing for her existence.
Thanks to Jeff, she hadn’t been caught yet, but her future actions would be affected.
Melana stood up and looked at Jeff.
Jeff stared back, clueless, and asked:
“Melana? Are you okay? You’re not sick or anything, right? You don’t look well.”
“No, I’m fine. Just tired.”
If Jeff had properly relayed the information, there would have been no problem.
Then the Under Chain wouldn’t have lost their assets, and she wouldn’t have had to be wary of that ruthless noble student.
‘Johan… If he’s capable of this much, he must be the kind of monster who’s never had to beg someone sincerely.’
Melana shivered as she left her seat.
Should I bow my head first?
That thought crossed my mind as I realized the identity of the pink-haired girl.
Should I bow my head and beg for mercy? Would that be the right approach?
No, I needed to think rationally.
What I had to do now wasn’t pitifully beg for my life.
“I was wrong.”
First came a humble apology.
For all the scorn and criticism I had directed at the pink-haired girl.
For overestimating myself because of my status.
Even that needed to be delivered cautiously, since I had provoked a madwoman.
“Is that the right thing to say?”
“….”
“Think carefully. Is that really what you should say?”
The way she spoke made me shiver.
What does she want from me? What’s her real intention…?
“Let’s think more rationally. Do you think I’d get angry over something so minor? Did I approach you just to get mad?”
Indeed, thinking rationally, that would be far too inefficient.
Even if the person in front of me judged efficiency, there had to be a reason she approached me.
“What do you want from me?”
“Yes, that’s the correct answer.”
Only then did I understand her.
And I felt an indescribable fear.
I am weak.
She understood that and used it to poke through the gap between me and stronger people.
The madwoman before me had completely read my psychology.
“You and I think alike.”
She understood the strengths of the weak.
She understood the means and methods I could use.
“That’s why I’ve been watching you. I’m looking for a successor.”
“A successor? Then why me…?”
“Because you’re similar to me.”
Then, a strange laugh—Puhiihi—again from the pink-haired girl.
Definitely mad.
A sane person would never look at me, a noble, and think of me as a candidate for an assassin’s successor.
I, a decent person, have no reason to become a disposable assassin.
But with a madwoman, you can’t just say that.
“Is it necessary to find a successor already at your age?”
“Yes, I’m young.”
“That’s good then. Yes.”
“I plan to remain young for quite some time. I’m still growing.”
“You have a bright future ahead.”
“Thanks.”
We were having a strangely inadequate conversation.
I responded to nonsense with nonsense.
That’s rare…
“And I’m beautiful. I’ll be even more beautiful in the future.”
“Eh? Oh… yes, I see.”
Damn, I should have realized from the cherry blossom-colored hair, not just the flower in her hair.
“That’s why I need a successor.”
“…?”
What an incredible reason.
I, a mere wrongdoer, could never have imagined such a grand rationale.
It was foolish of me to try to understand.
I couldn’t make sense of it.
“What do you think assassination is?”
“Someone killing another secretly?”
“And how do you think it’s done secretly?”
“Um… like doing it before anyone notices, or secretly poisoning someone, or killing without leaving witnesses… something like that?”
“I’m not sure about the last one, but that’s mostly right.”
“If you don’t understand the last one….”
I still remember the day Safe Clown carried out mass killings in the middle of the street.
It still haunts my dreams, a nightmare.
Then, and even now.
“The key is killing before the target realizes it.”
“….”
“I wasn’t even a student here. I was just blending in naturally. That’s how I could move freely even inside the Archmage’s domain.”
“…So that’s your real power.”
“And it’s also the power you have.”
My specialty: blending into the surroundings.
Safe Clown had honed it to the extreme, deceiving even the Archmage.
Now I understood why I had drawn her attention.
I had only attracted attention twice.
Once when making medicine to save Chris, and once during the placement exam when I caused chaos to escape F-class.
“I liked the idea. And the acting to pull it off was impressive.”
Safe Clown’s power wasn’t about stealth or impossibly fast attacks.
Her real danger was her naturalness.
She could blend in anywhere and stab her target naturally.
The acting to create that naturalness—that was her most prized skill.
“But I’m pretty, right? It’s getting harder to hide in a crowd. What do you think? How would I look blending in among people?”
Safe Clown removed her mask and smiled differently, naturally, not her usual silly grin.
Her words were true.
Even among a crowd, her appearance would catch attention.
“Soon, pretending will have its limits. So I need a successor before it’s too late.”
For someone who prized naturalness, beauty became a liability.
She couldn’t scar her face, or cover it, without drawing attention.
Now I understood why she was searching for a successor at such a young age.
“But then wouldn’t that make me unsuitable?”
“Huh? You? You seem like the perfect candidate to me.”
“I’m good-looking too, right?”
“Uh… yes. But I think you’re still fine as you are.”
Why did I stammer? I never stammered before.
I’m not someone who should be bowing anywhere…
“Cough! But do you really need a successor? Is there some special reason to keep the line going?”
“It would be a waste not to. I’ve honed these skills so carefully.”
“That’s a perfect reason. I can’t argue with that.”
A straightforward desire was harder to dispute than any principle.
It was incurable.
“Thanks for the offer, but…”
Can I even refuse this?
“…If I refuse, what happens?”
“I won’t harm you.”
Really?
Well, I can’t let this miserable life spiral any further.
Better to test her reaction…
“Then I refuse. Honestly, I don’t see the merit. Why would I become a butcher who kills people?”
Gaining power could be a merit, but I don’t care for it.
If I wanted power, I’d be training with my sword instead of sitting here.
For me, learning self-defense is enough.
“Then I guess it can’t be helped. Alright.”
“….”
“….”
What? Is it really over?
I’ve just learned a dangerous secret, and she’s leaving me alone?
Or does she think she can’t provoke me because she knows who I am?
“But Johan, someday you’ll seek me out yourself.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No? It just looks that way in your situation.”
“Why me?”
“Eden, Under Chain, and Remegheton don’t seem willing to give up on you.”
I need to handle that myself.
And I don’t plan to leave the academy until graduation.
Wait. What did she just say?
Eden, I understand. I’m already marked by the Cult.
And Under Chain, I get it.
They influenced the F-class coup.
But…
“…Why Remegheton?”
Who the hell are they?
“Well, I don’t know, do I? You’re not my successor, so I don’t need to tell you.”
“Seriously? That petty?”
“Yes, totally. I’m not exactly a butcher who kills people.”
Did she remember that throwaway remark from earlier?
Childish. Well, she’s around my age, so it feels natural in a way.
Considering she uses her naturalness as a weapon, I can’t let my guard down.
“Oh, right. My name’s Yuna. If you change your mind later, call me. I’ll be watching from afar.”
With that, Yuna melted back into the scenery before my eyes.
Too much to think about.
The Cult issue. The traitor still in F-class.
And now Remegheton, whose connection I can’t even guess. My head’s about to explode.
The first two are understandable, but Remegheton… what are they?
Why are they after me?
My head aches from the complexity.
I needed rest. Though it was early, I decided to go back to my room and nap.
As soon as I entered my room, I understood Yuna’s meaning behind the words as Safe Clown.
“…Huh?”
Remegheton.
The word refers to devil-worshippers, but there was also an etymological origin.
It was a grimoire meant for those willing to sell their soul to a demon—or for absolute lunatics with screws loose.
“…Why…?”
The grimoire, Remegheton, was on my desk.
To put it simply:
“Crazy.”
I had been chosen by a demon.
I felt like I’d been declared socially unfit overnight.