Ghosts from a Past Life
“Ways to crush the vice principal? Hmm… The best method is making sure he never gets an official position.”
“How?”
“If he commits a crime that can’t be covered up with ‘money’ or ‘power’, falls out of the emperor’s favor, or gets smashed from his vice principal spot before he can worm into politics.”
Ashy pulled the candy from her mouth and wagged it playfully side to side.
“He’s from commoner stock. He was supposed to be nobility, but his parents got caught embezzling and lost their titles. So he’s got a massive obsession with power and money.”
“Doesn’t that make him trickier to deal with?”
“Nah. In a situation like this, someone desperate for material things is at a huge disadvantage.”
Ashy grinned wickedly.
“They’ll flail around harder than anyone when they finally crash and burn, though?”
Her candy flipped over. Like a head tumbling downward in freefall, it dangled from her fingers, swaying up and down.
“Once it snaps with a crack, he’ll be more useless and powerless than anyone.”
“I see.”
A crime, huh… The best one would be colluding with black mages.
That’d crush him for sure.
The principal and a ton of others would step up for me.
“But why? What’d he do?”
“Why? You don’t know? I figured you’d… Oh, right, you wouldn’t.”
Her regression was limited to me.
Why?
I didn’t want to know. Honestly, having someone fixate on me like that was a burden.
More than that… she still didn’t want to know what I knew.
“……Hmph.”
After hearing the situation from me, Ashy stopped fiddling with her candy and closed her eyes briefly.
Deep in thought.
After a moment, she slowly opened them and spoke.
“Just leave him be.”
“?”
Leave him? As I made a confused face, Ashy popped the candy she’d been sucking on into my mouth.
“Mmph?!”
-?!
“Eugene. I know you care about your friends. But you can’t keep jumping in as the ‘dark knight’ every time. Last time with Jenella, we had to help, but this is different, right?”
Ashy continued calmly.
“She’s an imperial princess. She needs to handle trials like this on her own. Her support base is small now, and she doesn’t want it, but as a princess—and as time passes—she’ll start craving the ‘emperor’s throne’ herself. She has to claim it on her own, not with someone’s help. Those who climb with handouts just end up as puppets—nothing more, nothing less.”
“……”
“I get your worry. Hmm, this could work. You become part of her ‘support base’.”
“Support base?”
“Yeah. Normally, a commoner wouldn’t cut it… but you’re no commoner, are you?”
Ashy flashed a sly smile.
“I’m common-born, but I’ve already got the ‘Blue’ name, making me quasi-noble, and with time, a real noble. You? You’re the priest of the War God—rare and feared just by existing.”
“With just a little push from us behind the scenes—a bit of help—she could become emperor.”
Emperor, huh…
“You think she wants that?”
“Not now, probably. But as time goes on, she will.”
Conviction filled Ashy’s voice.
“She’s the future emperor.”
You’re not even hiding that you’re a regressor, huh?
“Huh? It slipped out?”
“I said it knowing you wouldn’t spill.”
“Hehe.”
Where’s she getting this attitude!
* * *
I returned to my room.
She’d naturally claimed my bed and was flipping through the club list with a thoughtful frown.
“Oh? You’re back?”
Spotting me, she held up the paper and pointed to one club with her finger.
“I’m thinking liberal arts club… this one… Huh? Why’re you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“You’re giving me this weird look? Hey, asshole. Your noona’s off-limits if you like her.”
“Noona my ass.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“January 1st.”
“Uh…… Eh, birthdays can be off by a bit. Mentally, I’m a year older anyway?”
What bullshit? Technically, I’m 19 years older, you little shit. Arguing mental age with a reincarnator?
But I didn’t bother saying more.
If things went as Ashy said, Adria would suffer a ton. Becoming emperor ain’t easy.
“Can I ask something?”
“? Sure. What’s up? No three sizes, though.”
“You gonna be emperor?”
My casual question froze Adria’s body.
She was visibly flustered, creaking like a cheap doll.
“W-what the hell outta nowhere?”
“Just curious. Earlier, Banana Princess looked like she wanted the throne bad. You’re a princess too, so I figured I’d ask.”
“Sis is Banasi, not Banana……”
“Whatever, whatever.”
Adria tried dodging, but no dice. I shut it down. After hesitating, she couldn’t withstand my intense stare and finally spoke.
“……I lack forces, power, everything. I don’t think I could.”
“No. Forget qualifications—do you want to?”
“……”
Adria always came off bold and energetic, but not now.
Her pride had hit rock bottom, and she didn’t want to climb back up.
She couldn’t even meet my eyes.
“Separate from forces—just your own will.”
“……”
“Do you want to be emperor?”
“……”
Adria’s lips clamped shut. The glow faded from her silver eyes, turning them dull black.
“I……”
She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly to answer.
But she couldn’t follow through.
She didn’t answer my question. No—she couldn’t.
“W-why ask? Suddenly? Got some reason?”
“Yeah.”
I shrugged like it was no big deal.
“Wondered if I should be your support.”
“H-huh? You’re just a commoner. Not much help……”
“You know who I am. Why play dumb now?”
“……”
I hadn’t noticed how naturally it’d gone, but she knew my identity.
I’d used my powers openly hunting ancient monsters.
Priest of the War God. She’d played ignorant till now—appreciated, but not needed here.
“What do you think?”
“……It’d help. But suddenly? I don’t wanna be emperor.”
“Nah, just asking. History class said princesses and princes get dragged into succession fights whether they want it or not. Losers’ factions crumble.”
They die.
I deliberately trailed off.
Adria paled. Seeing her face drain of color, I couldn’t continue.
“…Just asking. Forget it.”
Did I overdo it? Knowing guys were targeting her made me tense.
Plus, Ashy the presumed regressor’s words ramped up my worry, getting me worked up.
I grabbed the doorknob to give her space. Then her voice came from behind.
“……If I said I wanted to be emperor. Would you help?”
“Obviously. I said I would.”
I answered without hesitation.
“We’re bros.”
“……Pfft.”
A small laugh from behind. Then a tiny mutter.
“……No wonder Ashy and Jenella are head over heels.”
“?”
I turned with a what’d you say look. Adria’s face flushed beet red as she slyly looked away.
Then she spouted nonsense.
“…You’re not planning to, like, prop me up as a puppet emperor or something, right?”
“……”
“H-history books say a War God priest tried that once!”
This damn princess!
* * *
“You wanna join this club?”
Mosik showed up at my dorm, soaked in sweat from working out.
Go shower first!
As I pinched my nose, he continued like it was nothing.
“Yes.”
“No restrictions?”
“There’s no rule against S-Class and A-Class joining the same club.”
“Why suddenly? Some gym club?”
“No. The Rolling Club…… It’s registered as learning ‘card flipping’.”
“???”
Why the hell there?
“No thanks.”
As I went to shut the door, Mosik jammed it open.
“No solicitors.”
I pushed harder.
Creaaak.
The door yanked from his grip. He clung desperately and yelled.
“It’s registered as card flipping, but it’s not! Really!”
“Spill.”
“Delinquents… Kids who skip studies and training for drugs, booze, smokes, that kinda shit.”
“Why go there? Wanna go bad?”
“No!”
Mosik got serious. Serious enough for that…?
I eased my grip, signaling I’d listen.
Regaining his footing, Mosik continued.
“They’re nobles. I’m a noble too. I can’t ignore nobles dragging down our reputation. Plus, my dad and their parents asked me.”
What’s that got to do with me? I gave a bored look.
“So?”
“Huh?”
“Why should I go? No reward or anything.”
“That’s……”
He hadn’t expected this, visibly flustered.
Thought I’d just say okay?
Stammering, he pulled out a lame excuse.
“For justice……?”
“Am I Sailor Moon?”
“No, but…… What’s Sailor Moon?”
“You don’t know? Tch, no innocence left in you.”
“???”
You don’t know this?
“Anyway… You really won’t go?”
“Yeah. Not going.”
“Picked your club?”
“Nah.”
“Then……”
“But anywhere’s better than your pick.”
“……”
Mosik deflated. His pumped muscles sagged—probably from the workout.
Aw, tsk tsk. No friends so you come to me?
But looking like a drowned puppy, I felt a bit bad.
“Trial period?”
Just a quick taste?
My sly question lit up his face.
“You’ll join? As expected, for justice……!”
“Justice my ass. You look too pathetic. Just a quick peek.”
“Of course! Minimum week trial, so check it out as long as you want!”
Beaming, Mosik led me to the club.
Basement.
Already ominous. Opening the door, a weird stench hit.
What’s this smell?
“This… like cum and sweat… Cigarettes and drugs rotting too…? Yeah, way worse than it sounds……”
“This is the academy, right?”
“Y-yeah…?”
“Then what the fuck? This okay?”
I knew kids these days did that shit regardless of age.
But school? Come on.
I strode in and booted the kids sleeping under blankets.
“Wake the fuck up, assholes!”
“Gah!”
Too hard? The guy and girl flew off, clutching sides.
Damn, these academy rot roots. Adults or not, they’re students first. Who fucks in school?
Tsking, I plopped on their spot. The woken pair gawked in horror, hastily covering with the blanket and pointing.
“Who the hell’re you? Third-year senior? Prof?”
“First-year.”
“First-year? The fuck? A first-year punk messing with sky-high seniors……!”
“Sky-high seniors my ass!”
Wham!
“Noble brats pulling this shit? Not ashamed of your parents?”
“I-I’m commoner……!”
“Oh, commoner? That your brag?”
“Gurk!”
I booted the excuse-spewing girl and guy hard.
“Commoners lose more rep! ‘Poor kid’s dad’s a criminal, must be tough’ or ‘like father, like son’? Commoners gotta shine brighter! No excuses!”
“Eugene-nim. Don’t beat too hard……”
“You got permission, right? Why commoners? Cleared it? Nah?”
“Their parents asked too……”
“Good enough. I’ll fix ’em special.”
17’s adult here. So? College kids are adults too—but students first. Who openly fucks in school? Public space, dipshits!!
“S-seniors. I brought the stuff you wanted……”
Then someone flung the door open.
“!!!”
My eyes bulged at the student.
“W-what?”
I rushed forward, inspecting his face. Grabbing his shoulders as he backed away.
Crackkk!
“Urghh……!”
“Why the fuck are you here?”
“……Huh?”
“Why are you here?”
Two memories clashed. Arcana’s vision: tormenting a servant. And before me: dying with a broken mop shard in his crotch, ‘accidentally’ fallen.
Back then, just a lookalike.
Now? This guy? Identical. Or am I wrong? No. Same face, hateful eyes, hands, build—everything!
Past fragments overlaid reality.
ZZZzt!
Static noise. World turned black-and-white.
In monochrome, the school burned. Blood-soaked, I stood on the central stairs amid spreading flames.
All my haters dead. “School assault justifies mass murder?” they condemned.
But faceless crowds never helped. Nope.
Seemed stupid to others, but that isolated school—my only escape and solution. To kill my life-ruinners, I had to ruin it all.
Exit just steps down, but I stayed. Burned my hellish tormentors—and died with it.
I met my end there.
And the root cause—the one who drove me to it—stood before me.
“Why the fuck are you alive?!”
SMAAASH!
My fist smashed his face.