Chapter 124
Chapter 124
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Comedy or Tragedy?
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The start of a new day. Today, as always, I continue writing the novel called my life.
Acamedy Academy. Anis Harper, Betty, and the rest.
I lowered my eyes, lost in thought.
It was the dim predawn hour before sunrise, and with no electricity, the room was pitch black. But since I wasn't actually writing anything down, just hanging my head was enough.
This time, I wanted to give some serious thought to the genre of this novel.
The backdrop is a modern fantasy world.
What's the stage?
The title includes "Academy," at least.
So, is it a school story centered around academy life? I posed the question to myself.
The answer was, of course, no.
Get lost.
This isn't an academy story.
This isn't some fluffy, ticklish tale. This is it.
Go away, kids.
Blood and guts splatter everywhere, hypocrisy and malice run rampant—this story needs an 19+ rating and then some.
What's the atmosphere like in the story?
Bright or dark?
Hope or despair?
Cruel? If so, how cruel?
Does it crash down? If it crashes, how far? If it rises, how high?
The point is, what has my path been like so far?
Bright at times? Sure, there were bright moments.
Maybe it was always dark, so those fleeting lights stood out more.
But one thing was certain: like a flower blooming in the mud is the most beautiful, hope blossomed amid the darkness, and sunlight shone down.
It wasn't purely dark, nor purely bright. Because it was an imperfect novel, it had joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure; contradictions coexisted.
When despair rained down, hope would bloom; when hope faded, despair crept back up again. Repeat.
So, is this a comedy or a tragedy?
Betty said,
We've promised to create our own happy ending, just the two of us. So, this is a comedy.
No matter how tough it gets, if we overcome it together and reach a happy ending, it's a comedy.
What a beautiful statement.
Han said,
If it starts as a tragedy, it ends as one too.
Overcoming everything for a happy ending only happens in fiction, not reality.
So, we shouldn't hope for the best—just the second best.
What a pessimistic bastard.
Pessimism.
Otherwise known as pessimism, the view that sees the world negatively as irrational.
That's right.
Han was a pessimist.
From now on, that's what I'll call him.
Before long, the morning sun rose.
I got out of bed, woke Betty, and began preparing to head out early to instruct the villains, as usual.
I squatted in front of the red rubber washbasin filled with water from the day before last, splashed my face roughly, and changed clothes.
It's not even winter, but it's cold.
Grasping the ice-cold doorknob of the front door, I mulled over the question I'd posed to myself once more.
Comedy or tragedy?
Tragedies always begin for clichéd, obvious reasons.
The start is always an unfortunate past.
Or a sudden reversal of daily life due to an inescapable fate, like a natural disaster.
The protagonists are thrust onto that stage and forced to dance.
The process is clumsy and frustrating.
The end is always some arbitrary catastrophe decided by someone else.
The audience enjoys it. They offer their own interpretations, crying and laughing.
Happy people are happy for all sorts of different reasons.
But unhappy people are unhappy for similar ones.
Whether they want it or not.
Tragic protagonists rush toward catastrophe from the very start.
A gloomy night in the heart of ruined city streets.
A rooftop under overcast thunderclouds.
A cold alley, sunset secretly fading between them.
Clichéd third-rate tropes that make you want to puke.
Tragic protagonists always meet their end in places like that.
If this story is a tragedy,
then I might follow in their footsteps.
That's why, trapped in this endless cycle of doubt, I lift my head and ask.
What do you all want?
"Ah, Instructor Anis! Did you just cough?"
"Yes. Good morning."
As I stepped into the training grounds, the villains stood at attention to greet me.
Even after hell training ended, their discipline hadn't slackened. Impressive.
I nodded in satisfaction and approached the villains.
Training started sharp at 7 a.m.
Still about ten minutes left.
The villains used the spare time for a light meal: potato wedges Betty had mass-stolen from the market last time, and drinks in paper cups.
No intention of scolding them.
Enjoying proper meals and rest is a soldier's duty too.
Looking at them fondly, Han emerged from the building.
"Have a cup too, Instructor Han."
"Ah, thanks."
One villain approached Han and handed him a paper cup. Han took it naturally and started drinking.
"……"
These bastards.
I got here first, so why give the drink to that pessimist first?
A twinge of irritation.
As I thought that, the villain who'd given Han the cup came over to me.
Finally, my turn.
The order stung a bit, but I decided not to show it.
I'm big-hearted, after all.
"Would you like a cup too, Instructor Anis?"
To Han, it was a friendly "Have a cup," but to me, it's a question like "Would you like one?"
Like he really wants Han to drink, but doesn't care if I do or not?
This punk.
Unreasonably annoyed.
But I'm an instructor.
Can't let personal feelings make me snap in front of others.
Besides, as a magnanimous big-hearted person, getting mad over this would be ridiculous.
Talk to him privately later. That'll do.
For now, just take the drink without a word.
"...Hm. Thanks."
I took the paper cup casually and took a sip.
Something's off with the taste.
I scrunched my face.
"Blech."
Bitter.
Insanely so.
The bitterness flooding my tongue made me spit out everything in my mouth.
What the hell is this?
I peered closely at the cup's contents.
"...Coffee?"
It was coffee.
Straight espresso, no sugar or water.
"Yes, Instructor! Nothing like hot espresso in the morning! Back home, we always..."
"You... bastard!!"
Smack! I couldn't hold back the surging rage and kicked his shin.
"Argh!!"
He tripped and crashed spectacularly to the ground.
The precious potato wedges in his hands spilled everywhere, coffee splashing all over.
"Nooo!"
He rolled acrobatically on the ground, gazing wistfully at the rolling potatoes. His hand clutching the empty cup trembled finely.
Han approached the sniffling villain and patted him.
"...Oh dear. Anis must be in a bad mood. Trainee, don't take it too hard. I'll get Betty to bring more potatoes."
"Thank you, Instructor... Thank you..."
Helping the sniffling villain up, Han addressed the others.
"Everyone, when giving food to Anis, avoid bitter or spicy stuff. Anis has a real kid's palate. She'll get mad."
Warning them to be careful because she might get mad over food.
Is this a zoo?
Being treated like a zoo critter really grated on me.
And I don't have a kid's palate.
I can choke down spinach at the table if I have to.
I wanted to retort to Han right away, but what would that accomplish?
The big-hearted me has to endure.
Ten minutes flew by. 7 a.m. sharp.
Han and I gathered the villains and stood side by side in front of them.
What training today?
Not long since hell training ended, so nothing too grueling.
As I pondered, Han's red eyes turned to me.
"Still sulking?"
"I'm not sulking."
"Your lips are puffed out."
"So what."
"Why sulk over something like that? Sorry."
He's been poking at my nerves all morning. Super annoying.
He's trying to soothe me in his own way, but he's so inept it just flips my stomach.
"I said I'm not sulking."
"Doesn't seem like it. You've been radiating resentment and disappointment since..."
"You bastard, I told you not to use your ability on me!"
In a flash of anger, I swung my foot at Han's shin.
But Han easily stepped back, dodging the kick.
...Oh.
...Aha. I see.
Dodging, huh.
"……"
A brief silence followed.
I clenched my fist.
Decided.
Today's training.
"Trainees, today's training is set."
Gulp. The villains tensed up, seeing my foul mood.
Some even worried it might be worse than hell training.
No need for such fears.
Today would be a very easy training for the trainees.
I turned to them and declared firmly.
"Today's training is combat observation."
"...Huh?"
Han tilted his head.
"Today, Instructor Han and I will spar all day. Trainees, observe the instructors' battle—it's like the real thing—and memorize the moves with your eyes. Got it?"
"...Wait, hold on. Anis."
Han finally realized something was off, sweating as he called me.
I shot back coldly.
"You have a habit of subtly looking down on me. You know that?"
So the kids are kinda ignoring me too.
I've overlooked it with my magnanimous grace so far, but it's crossed the line now.
You're done.
Time for a beating.
Ignoring the flustered Han, I said quietly to the trainees.
"Trainees, watch closely. And burn it into your eyes."
This bastard getting beaten like a dog on the hottest day of summer.
Hero Association dorms. Aselrika leaned back on the luxurious sofa.
Always thought so, but what a needlessly spacious dorm.
"Waste. Total waste."
"Still, when else would we stay in a place like this?"
"A few days away from the front lines, and you're totally hooked."
"Haha."
Aselrika turned to her subordinate.
"...How's Na-rin?"
The first question was about the welfare of her late friend's little sister.
Having been swamped lately, she hadn't visited once and felt guilty inside.
"She was discharged a few days ago."
"...Really?"
Relieved at the news of a smooth discharge, Aselrika's expression softened briefly before reverting to her cool leader face.
By now, urgent matters were handled, checks done.
One thing left.
"And Han U-sol?"
"Nothing special. Just on standby."
"...Got it. Summon all the heroes on standby right now."
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"But the cleanup from the uproar..."
"Not our job."
Colton's job.
Repairing damaged buildings or handling refugees—heroes weren't needed for that.
Aselrika had rushed to the center out of fear the whole city might flip from a coup.
After talking with Colton and realizing it wasn't, focus narrowed to one thing.
Their job: drive out demons and magic beasts, end the unrest.
That was a hero's duty.
"Call in everyone on standby, and relay to the front lines too."
Villain crime rates had plummeted lately—perfect timing.
Needed swift action.
Crush them before they prepared.
"Tomorrow, we head to X District."