The Looming Conspiracy
“Are you alright, young master?”
“Mm, feeling human again.”
I'd been bedridden for a full two days after that duel with Diego. Summoning two dragons at once came with a hell of a backlash.
Even when I lost fingers in my past life, I never burned up like this. Lucky for me, Isabella could handle ice magic.
Honestly, the aftereffects still had me wiped out, but it was enough to get moving. No way I could afford more absences.
“You did great, Bell.”
“It's nothing, young master. Allow me to help you dress.”
Isabella accepted my thanks with her usual composure and reached out with her pale hands to slip my shirt on.
“It's about time for 'that,' right?”
Her touch brushing my bare skin felt awkward as hell, so I threw out some words to cover my embarrassment.
“Yes, surely by now.”
Isabella nodded carefully, smoothing out the shirt's wrinkles. Her voice carried an icy edge.
“You've rested for two days, young master. That's plenty of time.”
What was 'that'? Simple.
“Those greedy old fogeys are bound to start sniffing around your deck composition.”
Yeah. The big shots gathered at this academy were due to come crawling.
In my duel with Diego, I'd unleashed Nautilus and Gustav Dora—two dragon creatures. Word had to be all over the academy by now, sparking curiosity.
Does this punk have more dragon cards?
“Deck destruction, maybe?”
Like any TCG, Magic & Creature had deck-out tactics.
Running your opponent out of cards didn't end the game outright, but hitting your turn with no deck triggered exhaustion, chipping away at your Soul Points. Plus, no Mana Crystals meant no magic circles.
Of course, right now it wouldn't be about winning via deck-out—they'd just want to peek at my deck.
No one could straight-up tell the count's heir, “Show us your deck.” They'd use a duel, naturally.
“Students your age average 30 to 40 Origin Cards. They'd figure a couple deck-destruction duels would reveal everything.”
A faint sneer laced her words.
Origin Cards stemmed from one's psyche, growing with age and experience.
That was why the continent's strongest power, the elf empire of Yggdrasil, dominated. As long-lived species outlasting humans by triple, their Origin pools were massive.
Me? Just seventeen in this world. Dragons aside, it wasn't unreasonable to underestimate me.
Humans only learn the hard way, after all.
But I was a whole different breed.
A reincarnate remembering my past life from birth. And what a brutal one—21st-century civ to WW3 hell, gunning down enemies nonstop, watching comrades drop, failing to protect a damn thing, and dying anyway. That's me.
This world's folk didn't inflict physical harm on other sapients like humans or elves. Couldn't even conceive it.
If their behavior was code, the “hurt people physically” subroutine was just missing.
Experiences they couldn't dream of were etched into my psyche. Regrettably. So my Origin pool dwarfed my peers'.
“If they underestimate me like that, it works in my favor. Wonder who they'll send.”
My Origin Cards totaled 93 right now—and climbing. A couple half-assed deck-destruction plays wouldn't scratch the surface.
“I've compiled a list.”
“Huh?”
Isabella tied my necktie with flawless precision, then handed me a stack of papers like it was nothing.
“What's this?”
“A list of players who main deck destruction. Only those linked to academy VIPs, of course. The back pages detail those VIPs' dirty laundry.”
“...”
Glancing down, I saw profiles packed on fine paper: main cards, tactics, even portraits.
“The top suspect is this one. Nico Müller.”
Her slender finger pointed to a portrait. The guy's vibe was straight-up sinister.
Half-lidded triangular eyes. Prominent cheekbones. Downturned mouth curved in a creepy half-smile.
“Müller? From the Hoffman Kingdom?”
“Yes. Fallen nobility. Mercenary since fifteen, mostly underworld gigs—name's not public. Blows most income on vice, so he's broke now.”
“Needs work. Extra cash wouldn't hurt.”
“Exactly. No real backing makes him disposable for the old fogeys.”
Damn, cold assessment.
I'd brainstormed contingencies, but this intel made them unnecessary.
“This'll do to drag one out and make an example.”
Targeting a freshman with deck destruction to probe their deck was ethically shady—but that's all the punishment it'd draw. Nico would take the heat.
With Isabella's dossier, we could nail one as a warning.
Isabella and her unique magic were invaluable. I'd love her auditing classes with me, but she insisted on personal maid duty.
Anyway.
A dragon user after 150 years? Perfect aggro bait.
To dodge endless petty schemes from aggro-pullers, I needed a clear example.
Mess with me? Get bit back.
That said...
“When'd you prep this? Bell, you sleeping at all?”
“No need to worry, young master. I prepared it before your academy enrollment.”
Good grief. Predictable, sure, but... workaholic much? My perfect maid might burn out.
I narrowed my eyes and cupped her chin, tilting it up gently. Her blue eyes met mine, trembling faintly.
“...Eek.”
“Tell me straight. You sleeping properly?”
“...Y-yes, about four hours a day...”
“That's not 'properly.'”
See? I felt groggy after ten hours—four? Humans needed seven or eight, right?
“That's an order. Minimum seven hours from now on.”
“B-but young master, I can't serve you perfectly like that...”
“I'm always grateful, Bell. But I'm not a seven-year-old kid.”
“Ugh...”
An expression I'd never seen crossed her face: downturned eyes, pink lower lip pouted out.
Pure I'm sulking.
I always folded to that face, but not today.
“Tch.”
“...”
“Answer me.”
“...Understood...”
“Good girl.”
She nodded at last. I stroked her hair soothingly.
“Alright, heading out.”
“...Yes. Safe travels, young master.”
“Yeah... Hm?”
Stepping out of the dorm, I spotted Erhun passing by—looking glum.
“What's up with her?”
“No, Erhun's a classmate. Just looks down.”
“Erhun... The one who dueled Marquis Borromeo, right?”
Isabella masked her pout, voice flat.
“You knew?”
“Your duel with Marquis Borromeo stemmed from his rudeness to her. I looked into it.”
...Sounds like you investigate anything tied to me, Isabella.
“Since you looked into it, spill. What'd Diego do now?”
“No, Marquis Borromeo has been quiet. Frequent meetings with Professor Georgia, but she leads them.”
“Really?”
That slacker?
“Gallerytia mentions you often, so Marquis Borromeo and Erhun-nim pop up too.”
“Ah, that...”
I nodded awkwardly. Never thought I'd deal with forums in this world!
“...Not good talk, huh?”
“As a commoner, she's easy prey on anonymous boards.”
“Tch.”
People are the same everywhere. I clicked my tongue.
“So get this~ They told me to buddy up with Ricardo~. Like, make friends based on status? Ridiculous~.”
Settling into a classroom chair—felt like ages—an energetic Adella plopped down in front of me.
She'd checked me over with worry at first, then dove into gossiping about VIPs.
Some Yggdrasil empire bigwig dispatched here ordered her to befriend me.
I took it in stride—expected it—but Adella was pissed, sleepy face with arched brows. Kinda funny.
“You cool spilling all this to me?”
“Of course~ If it leaks from someone else, you might misunderstand~ I just wanna be friends with you for real~.”
“No worries there.”
“Really~? Hehe, phew~.”
She crinkled her drowsy eyes into a puppyish grin. I smiled back—then Eden approached, puzzled.
“What's up, Rogers? Weird look.”
“Hm, lecture schedule changed suddenly.”
“Schedule?”
“Yeah.”
Eden nodded gravely, adjusting his glasses.
“Guest lecture popped up. Professor... Nico Müller. Odd for early semester.”
...Well, well. Moving fast.
Even slapping a professor title on a merc? Quite the effort.
My eyes turned cold.