Chapter 15
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: What Do You Think of Our Ophelia? -1
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What do you think of our Ophelia?
The Disciplinary Committee was busy even before the new semester began.
Preparations to welcome the freshmen, facility maintenance, and cracking down on delinquents.
This was Winchester Academy, where all sorts of people gathered.
Unpredictable incidents were always a possibility.
But that didn't mean things got any less hectic once school actually started.
Wiping the fatigue from her face, Ophelia spoke up.
"This should be our plan for subduing the delinquent clubs."
The committee executives nodded in agreement.
"Yes. Not bad at all. Good work, Ophelia."
"You're too kind."
She expressed her thanks to the committee chair.
With that, Ophelia's turn was over.
"Now, shall we move on to the next item?"
The next item.
At those words, the mood in the room shifted.
It felt a bit brighter somehow.
"This one's about club approvals!"
Sally, the mood maker of the committee and a Disciplinary Enforcer, announced it cheerfully.
Club-related business.
It was one of the few lighthearted matters amid the stiff and harsh duties of the Disciplinary Committee.
"Alright, then. Let's see what clubs have applied for approval this time."
At Winchester Academy, the most important thing wasn't classes—it was club activities.
They could provide immediate income and were better suited for honing one's specialty than lectures.
Of course, they also offered plenty of entertainment.
That was a factor too.
This academy was on a remote island.
It was hard to find things to do like you could on the mainland.
"Swordsmanship club... another one."
"This one's apparently the Three Sword Style, where they hold a sword in their mouth."
"Holding a sword in their mouth? Their teeth will shatter. Reject it."
The discussions continued, decisions were made.
And the last one remaining was this club.
Club Approval Document – Cafe: Survivor
A cafe selling various beverages and desserts
Applicant & Club President – Ethan Woodgate
"A cafe."
Ophelia's single word made the committee chair jump in surprise. He knew her personality all too well.
"Ophelia. Don't tell me you've taken an interest in a cafe?"
"No, it's just..."
"Ah~ This Ethan guy is the third-year you've gotten close to lately."
"Ophelia has a friend...!"
Ophelia has a friend?
Did they threaten her?
Or is she paying for services?
'What the hell do they think I am?'
Ophelia pondered seriously amid the murmurs.
"Isn't that beside the point, Chair?"
"R-Right. Sorry, Ophelia. You all, drop it."
"..."
"Ahem! Anyway, there's nothing lacking on the paperwork or any major issues to nitpick. I propose we approve Cafe: Survivor's activities. What do you all think?"
Everyone nodded at the chair's question.
No harm in having one more decent cafe to visit.
"Then that's settled... Who wants to handle the inspection?"
Of course, they couldn't skip procedures.
Approval didn't end with the paperwork. They had to verify if it was legitimate and ensure it wouldn't cause trouble going forward.
Everything needed close scrutiny, especially since funding was involved.
That was the purpose of the inspection.
Sally volunteered for it.
"I'll go with Ophelia!"
With Ophelia.
"Ophelia. You okay with that?"
"Of course."
Ethan was a good senior to her, sure.
But public and private were separate.
This was academy business.
"Alright, then. Go check it out. See what this Survivor place is like."
"Yes."
"Sure~"
With that, the meeting ended.
Free from the tense atmosphere, the two stretched languidly.
"Ugh~ I'm beat."
"I see."
"I wanna hit up a good massage spot, get rubbed down, then crash hard."
"If it's a massage, the senior's great at it."
"Huh?"
"I tried it once before."
Ophelia recalled the past incident.
The time Ethan had kneaded her at will.
It had felt incredibly refreshing, like opening her eyes to a new world.
"...No, forget it."
But ever since witnessing Ethan with his girlfriend? And their affectionate display, Ophelia hadn't sought him out.
Third-year.
Transfer dragonkin.
Agnes.
She'd learned about that girl, but what could she do?
It didn't even make sense to think about doing anything.
'Who am I to say?'
Ophelia let out a wry smile without realizing it.
"Oh..."
She startled herself with the expression.
Why had a pang of sadness hit her for a moment?
She couldn't answer that.
This was a feeling she'd never experienced before.
Sally, sensing something, lit up in Ophelia's stead.
"...That guy's no good!"
"Hm?"
"He gives you that intimate massage skinship and then dumps you!?"
Skinship?
Dumps me?
"There's a misunderstanding, Sally. First, that massage wasn't skinship—it was just practice. Second, I wasn't dumped."
"Liar."
"It's true."
"Those were the eyes of a woman scorned in love. I've counseled dozens of breakups, so I know for sure. And Ophelia."
"Yeah?"
"He's not a pro masseur. Just helping out of pure goodwill? How many guys like that are out there?"
Sally's words rang with conviction.
Ophelia started feeling confused too.
Everyone had their specialties, and Sally's was her knack for romance.
More precisely, reading people's emotions.
'Sally might have the answers.'
In her current state, unsure of her own feelings, that skill would help immensely.
"Sally."
"Yeah. Spill it to me, Ophelia. Something happened, right?"
"...Actually."
So Ophelia confessed everything.
What she'd seen that day.
And Sally's response was...
"...You met a dangerous guy, Ophelia."
"Dangerous?"
"If what you say is true, he has a girlfriend but hit on his junior?"
Hit on me?
"The wording's off. The senior was just being nice—"
"That's what's weird about it."
Thwack!
Sally grabbed Ophelia's shoulders.
"Think about it the other way. Imagine you're dating that senior, Ophelia."
"Dating!? What are you—"
"Hypothetical. Just hypothetical."
"R-Right. Hypothetical."
"Okay. Say you need practice for a massage one day. Who'd you ask?"
That would be...
"The senior."
"Exactly. No way you'd go to some other guy friend, right?"
"Well..."
"Ophelia, I really didn't want to say this."
"..."
"That senior wasn't just playing around with innocent you, was he?"
No way!
"The senior isn't like that!"
"Or maybe he truly has no romantic interest and sees you purely as a junior. That could work too."
And that was sad in its own way—
'Wait, why should I be sad?'
Emotions she couldn't grasp swirled in a storm.
Trapped in it, she'd agonized for three days now.
"...Don't worry, Ophelia."
"Sally?"
"I'll figure out that senior's true nature."
Sally stepped up for her friend.
"Ophelia, you know?"
"What?"
"They say people's true colors show when they're caught off guard or their mask slips."
"What are you planning?"
"...I hope he's a good guy."
A fair amount of time had passed since submitting the application.
In the meantime, Agnes and I had completely renovated the classroom.
We gathered tools, sold all the desks for startup funds, and gave the money to Guri. He brought wooden tables and chairs perfect for a cafe.
"Looks super clean, Guri!" He'd left a pretty positive review.
Not bad for minimal renovations.
I was in a good mood.
But Agnes looked glum.
"My back hurts."
She thumped her lower back and stretched.
It wasn't hard to understand.
She'd hauled desks and chairs up and down stairs by herself.
"Good work."
"What was the president doing while this dragon lady slaved away?"
"I was busy in my own way."
I showed her the pile of lemons.
"What's this?"
"From the dungeon."
I'd gone to the dungeon with Melissa and grabbed some lemons for the business. She took half, but this was plenty.
"Tomorrow we start real business."
"Tomorrow already..."
They'd had the meeting today, so if approved, inspectors would come soon.
If they saw no issues, tomorrow we'd open for real.
"But President."
"Yeah?"
"Why's the cafe called Survivor? It's not a survival shop."
"...To survive."
"Huh?"
"It's a thing."
I brushed it off lightly and checked the clock.
Dinnertime soon.
Wondering what to make for today's menu when...
"Excuse me."
A knock at the door.
I was sure: the Disciplinary Committee had sent someone.
"Come in."
Two people entered at my words.
One was Ophelia. The other was...
"Hello. I'm Sally from the Disciplinary Committee. This is Ophelia... Oh, right. You already know her."
It was Sally.
A character added in volume 2, apparently.
"Welcome, both of you. What do I need to do?"
Sally smirked at my question.
"Show us your skills."
"My skills...?"
She nodded.
Her attitude felt a tad rude.
Was that how the Disciplinary Committee operated?
"..."
Ophelia stayed silent too.
Either that was their way, or she was just that type.
It rubbed me the wrong way, but...
'Since then, stuff like this doesn't faze me.'
Because of that old bad memory dredged up.
Ever since getting stabbed by an anger management case mid-counseling, this was cute by comparison.
I'd nearly died back then.
This was nothing.
Plus, she was barely high school age, trying to intimidate.
Maybe she was doing it on purpose.
You know, testing reactions by acting tough.
Whatever.
"Got it."
If satisfying her meant I could open shop, I'd do it.
"Hoo."
I took off my uniform jacket and changed.
Into a black, formal suit.
"If you want a skill demonstration, I'll give you a proper show."