The Senior's Dormitory

“Orknodi, some upperclassmen have been digging into your background.”

“Orknodi, did you get on some senior’s bad side?”

“Orknodi, be careful when you walk around alone!”

Perhaps because I had accumulated high favorability with a vast number of students across various events, practically every passing NPC chimed in with a warning.

“Thank you so much!”

When I flashed a bright, pearly-white grin, the NPCs patted my head with expressions that practically screamed they were dying of cuteness. They would gaze down at their own hands in sheer, warm satisfaction before finally walking away. While I didn't get the thrill of striking terror into people and exerting raw dominance like I did back when I was a hulking mass of muscle, being pampered like a beloved little house pet wasn't half bad either.

Not that I know whether I should actually be grateful for it.

I still had no earthly clue what my childhood friend Sia had been thinking when she chucked me into this game world. Countless questions remained, but perhaps because I inhabited such a bright, cheerful body, any gloom or anxiety was swept away in an instant. Whenever a problem cropped up, you just had to resolve it step by step!

Those seniors had snooped on me first, so it was only fair that I do a little digging of my own, right? Armed with student advice and some light recon, I ferreted out the culprits in no time flat.

“Oho. So their names are Paper Company and Box Chowder.”

Names I had never heard before. Complete extras.

They were second-year students from the Magic Department and Knight Department, respectively. While they possessed enough competence to pass the entrance exams for Gift Academy, they had neither the talent to stand out nor an impressive mana pool. Having barely scraped through the first-year entrance test on past effort and grit alone, they couldn't even keep up with the grade average. Diligent as they were, their absolute stat caps were so low that they had slammed into a wall—typical underachievers being weeded out by the system.

Reminds me of watching total newbies!

Rookie players were always like that. At first, they scrambled just to survive the academy grind. Then they'd notice the shady shortcuts other players took and try their luck at cutting corners too. If they hit the jackpot, they could coast on easy street for a while; but nine times out of ten, the one reaping the honey wasn't the rookie, but some other lucky NPC who swooped in.

The illegal cultivation of Red Teeth Mushrooms had been no different. In the end, the ones who actually got to consume the mana spore sacs were myself and the Headmaster. The rich always got richer; when underachievers broke their backs cultivating a secret windfall, some passing genius would inevitably snatch it up and gobble it down. That was why you should never dabble in contraband. Even if someone robbed you blind, you couldn't demand compensation or complain about how unfair it was.

I kind of feel bad for them, so pounding them into dust would be a bit harsh. Maybe just a little light trolling instead?

Late on a weekend night, right before Monday rolled around, I quietly made my way toward the 2nd-Year Male Dormitory.

Hmm. Flimsy security, as always.

A detection grid woven from mana spanned the perimeter, designed to beam an alert straight to the proctor's office if any organism ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exceeding a certain body temperature and size made contact. Because it wasn't a facility like the Freshmen Dormitory where the safety of new students was safeguarded with extreme paranoia, the security wasn't overly strict—just a basic scan to deter petty crime. But as long as you didn't trigger the tripwire, it didn't matter in the least.

With my petite height of 133 centimeters and tiny build, bypassing the mana detection patterns and scaling the windows was child's play.

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

Scrambling up the exterior masonry with the effortless agility of a gecko, I peered past the windowpane. The bedroom was pitch-black and empty, as if the occupant had stepped out. Even better!

Giving the window sash a gentle nudge, I felt the firm resistance of a latch. Naturally, I had already brought along a piece of wire for just such an occasion.

Rattle, rattle... click.

Picking the lock and slipping over the sill, my boots crunched against something resembling cookie crumbs scattered across the floorboards. Tsk, this senior really lived like a slob. Like the old trope about Westerners clomping straight into bed with their boots on, this dormitory sorely lacked any sensible East Asian hygiene.

“Honestly, Senior. So careless. Leaving messy traces all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over the place. Aren't you afraid of rats infesting the room when you live in such filth?”

Not a single presence stirred in the room. I had come to give him a sharp earful about prying into other people's business, but the sheer squalor offended my sensibilities so deeply that I found myself pacing every corner of the quarters. Normally, these dorms were shared living spaces, but this senior had gotten lucky and occupied a four-person suite all by himself. Thanks to that, I could wander about unimpeded until I located a broom and dustpan.

Sweep, sweep.

As I diligently swept up the debris, the bristles caught on something tucked beneath the bed frame. Hooking it out with my fingertips, I pulled out what looked like a textbook. But who shoved textbooks under their mattress?

I flipped open the cover, and sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed. It was an illicit magazine filled with scantily clad women seducing men and engaging in all manner of scandalous acts.

Oho.

This senior had quite the eccentric palate. Back when I was a guy on Earth, I had consumed plenty of spicy adult media, but I never knew someone could be into stuff like this.

“He'd die of embarrassment if someone caught him with this. Tee-hee.”

Well, drawing upon my memories as a former guy, I could show some brotherly understanding. Besides, blackmailing someone with their personal stash counted as a sex offense these days. Look at me, upholding gender equality—aren't I just the most upright citizen ever?

I tucked the textbook back under the bed exactly where I found it. After poking around a bit more while waiting for the senior to show up, my gaze landed on an assignment resting on the desk. Growing bored of waiting, I casually jotted down the solutions across the parchment, yet the man of the hour was nowhere in sight.

Did he stay out for the night?

I had really wanted to meet him because of his hilarious name, so it was a bit of a letdown. Guess tonight wasn't my night. Still, no reason to get discouraged. The wasted time stung a little, but tonight wasn't the only opportunity. I could always drop by to play again later!

Wait, why did my Fear Induction EXP go up?

Pondering the notification on my stroll back, enlightenment struck like a bolt of lightning. A home mysteriously swept clean out of nowhere. A fear-inducing effect triggering completely unprompted. A flash of impeccable gamer deduction bridged the gap.

“Aha.”

Senior has Snail-Bride Phobia!

A senior who was terrified of magical fairy-cleaners doing his chores in secret—how hilarious was that? Thinking that he'd probably be even more frightened if I cooked him a warm meal next time, a surge of mischievous glee washed over me. The next time I had to grind cooking levels, I would definitely bring a hot plate over to his room!

Dead of night.

Just as Paper Company was finally growing accustomed to the cramped agony of sleeping inside his wardrobe—

Clack.

His ears caught the subtle vibration of the windowpane through the fog of sleep. Paper Company possessed auditory senses regarded as top-tier even among the Lower Class. Because he lived on an upper floor, the biting draft frequently rattled the glass; assuming it was merely the usual wind, he tried to drift back under.

Rattle, rattle.

That was, until the violent shuddering of the frame tore him completely awake. What kind of gale was blowing out there? Was a swarm of blood-mosquitoes loitering right outside the glass?

Just as he cracked the wardrobe door to peek, a sound that should never have echoed in that room reached his ears: the distinct click of the window lock turning over.

Did modern mosquitoes pick locks with their stingers now?

Entertaining such absurd delusions was far preferable to reality. As long as mosquitoes didn't descend in an overwhelming cloud, you could always swat them dead.

Step.

Footsteps.

The alarm powder he had sprinkled before the sill in preparation for an intruder had performed its duty flawlessly. Unlike an insect whose negligible mass wouldn't even disturb the dust, this was the unmistakable crunch of an organism bearing physical weight.

It was no mosquito.

It was a person.

As if she had instantly deduced that her presence had been detected, a patronizing, scolding voice drifted through the darkness:

“Honestly, Senior. So careless. Leaving messy traces all over the place. Aren't you afraid of rats infesting the room when you live in such filth?”

It was a voice that could not—and should not—ever be heard here.

No way. This is the tenth floor!!

A dizzying altitude completely inaccessible to normal human beings. A first-year couldn't possibly have mastered flight magic, an arcane discipline strictly reserved for the third-year curriculum. Then how on earth had this child scaled all the way up here?

His terror-stricken brain scrambled desperately for answers. Right then, an unwanted memory surfaced unbidden.

—There are rumors that she is an active ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠assassin trained by a shadowy noble syndicate.

Yes. If she was a professional killer, nothing was impossible. He had truly been found out for digging into her background. Box Chowder had been right all along. Orknodi was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rogue and an assassin. Naturally, she wouldn't tolerate an insolent underachiever testing her patience.

“He'd die if someone caught him with this. Tee-hee.”

There was not a shred of malice in that tone—in fact, it was laced with sheer, cheerful amusement.

This monster revels in slaughtering people!!!

Paper Company clamped his eyes shut. He was paralyzed by the terror that the white of his pupils might gleam through the slender gap in the wardrobe slats. Trembling in unmitigated horror, frantically begging for forgiveness in his soul for having been stupid enough to provoke a monster he should have never crossed, he realized that Orknodi showed no sign of leaving.

Swish.

Swish.

As though she knew his hearing was razor-sharp, she strolled across the floorboards with rhythmic strokes of a broom, systematically erasing every sign of human presence one by one. What did this mean? What was she plotting? It wasn't as if she had broken in just because she felt like doing chores.

A warning. Yes, this was unmistakably a message.

‘I already know what you're capable of.’

‘Erasing all traces of a living human being is child's play to me.’

Please spare me, please spare me, please forgive me!

Paper Company prayed desperately behind closed lids. By the time he regained his senses, the frigid draft leaking from the exterior had long since vanished. Had she left? Was she really gone? If he pushed the wardrobe door open, she wouldn't be standing right in front of him whispering, ‘Found~ you. Tee-hee,’ would she?

“Haaah...!”

Shivering in raw terror, Paper Company carefully slithered out from the wardrobe, clutching his violently hammering chest as he gasped for air in desperate, ragged pants. The room around him was immaculately sanitized, stripped of every trace of habitation like an empty showroom. And resting on his desk, written across his homework assignment in neat, elegant calligraphy, were the complete solutions.

Why had she solved this? There was no way in hell she had done it out of boredom. Did it contain some terrifying hidden code?

More importantly... while this was an advance prep assignment for upcoming lectures, the difficulty was notoriously brutal—professors claimed that anyone who solved the entire thing had permission to leave class early!

What in the world do you want from me?! What are you going to force me to do during lecture that you went ahead and solved the whole damn thing?!

Paper Company curled into a ball on the spotless floor, trembling in terror for a very, very long time.