The Secret Room

As they made their way toward the Main Building, Zhuang and Hestia felt their anticipation swell. Escaping the dormitories alone had required slipping past an absurdly airtight security net. Now, they were racing against the clock toward a singular hour: 2:22 AM. What could possibly await them in a secret room accessible only at such an exact, peculiar time? The mere thought of the hidden chamber where Orknodi awaited set their hearts racing.

We might both be assassins, and I might lose to her in a test of courage, but there's no way I'm losing when it comes to stealth.

Zhuang brimmed with pride in her craft. Ghosts? Undead? Professor Sadako? Sure, those things were a bit—well, just a tiny bit—too much for her. But stealth operations were second nature when supernatural horrors weren't involved.

This is my chance to show Orknodi what I’m really made of.

She had disgraced herself more than once during the Adventurer's Night Operations lectures, but tonight she would prove her caliber. She would show that she was a master assassin whose skills rivaled Orknodi's own.

"Someone’s coming. Duck behind this tree, quick."

They had been boldly striding down the tree-lined path, catching the patrols off guard by taking the open route, when the presence of an approaching group registered from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down the boulevard.

"I’m too big, I won't fit behind the trunk!"

"Shut up and hold still. Don't you dare scream."

Zhuang thrust her fingers into several pressure points on Hestia’s frame. A sickening agony, like bones twisting out of joint, tore through the mercenary. Clenching her jaw with superhuman endurance, Hestia was about to demand what the hell Zhuang thought she was doing—until she noticed the thickness of her own arms shrinking visibly.

Seeing Hestia's stunned expression, Zhuang smiled, her eyes glinting with a chilly light.

"One of the secret arts brought over by assassins from the East. It’s a body modification technique called Bone and Muscle Contraction."

By reshaping and compressing bone and muscle, it artificially replicated the effects of the Mana Body Refining Method. It was an exceptionally handy body-altering technique whenever one was simply too bulky to hide behind available cover.

It hurts so damn much!

A solitary tear squeezed from Hestia's eye. Even as a battle-hardened mercenary accustomed to gruesome injuries, enduring this agony pushed her to her absolute limit. Suppressing a groan took every ounce of willpower she possessed. Magic included polymorph spells that could temporarily alter a human’s physiology without harm; why on earth would anyone master such an excruciating technique instead?

Isn't this just a torture technique?!

While she bit back the pain under genuine suspicion of torture, several figures emerged onto the main thoroughfare, shambling with unsteady, zombie-like gaits.

Z-Zombies?!

Zhuang’s heart leapt into her throat. Zombies? Why out here? Did Professor Sadako show up?!

"Midnight lectures are driving me crazy, driving me crazy, driving me crazy..."

"Kill the professor. That's the only thought left in my head..."

"Professor, I have other classes besides yours. Please stop assigning homework that takes an entire week to finish. I'm literally going to die..."

"If you boil the three primary reagents—cyan, green, and red—in a 1:2:3 ratio over high heat for thirty minutes, grind in thistle stems and mana mugwort leaves, and simmer on low heat for an hour, you get an awakening stimulant. But the professor confiscated every last drop, so what do I do, what do I do, what am I supposed to do?!"

"Killtheprofessorkilltheprofessorkilltheprofessor..."

Fortunately, it wasn't Professor Sadako. They were merely upperclassmen, reduced to haggard, walking corpses by the academy’s brutal curriculum.

"..."

Wait, wasn't this actually worse than a zombie? Relief turned to cold dread. Was that the future awaiting first-years? Zhuang seriously contemplated dropping out and fleeing the academy on the spot.

How would Orknodi have reacted to this?

'Phew! They're just pitiful upperclassmen!'

She would probably beam with that innocent smile of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hers and say something absurd like that. In truth, that child was beginning to scare Zhuang just as much. The Orknodi she thought she knew wasn't the real Orknodi. What was the real Orknodi, anyway? Did a person named Orknodi even truly exist?

A shiver crept down Zhuang's spine, raising goosebumps on her arms.

"Hey... it hurts too much... Undo it, quick..."

"Ah, sorry."

The longer Bone and Muscle Contraction was maintained, the longer the torment dragged on. Hestia glared at her with pure resentment.

"Why do you even know a technique that hurts this bad?"

"Well, it's originally used for torture."

"...Do you want to die?"

It really was a torture technique!

"What did you expect from an assassin's repertoire?"

"You mark my words, you're going to pay for this one day."

Zhuang poked her tongue out and stepped back into the lead. In truth, the original Bone and Muscle Contraction wasn't designed for torture. Her master, recognizing its potential for agonizing application, had simply developed a torture variant and passed down that particular version to her.

Not that I need to explain all that to her.

Hestia continued to grumble beneath her breath as they reached the Main Building. Fortunately, there were no laser-beam security grids deployed around the perimeter. The first-years—the ones who needed to be quarantined for their own safety—were supposed to be confined to the dorms, not wandering around the administrative halls.

What in the world makes the academy so dangerous for first-years at night anyway?

Until now, Zhuang had imagined rogue undead from Professor Sadako's practical lessons or hostile foreign assassins infiltrating the campus for secrets. Now, however, she couldn't help suspecting the curfew was actually designed to isolate innocent freshmen from the zombie-like upperclassmen. Or perhaps it was a rule born of collective guilt among the faculty, sparing the first-years from being dragged into midnight lectures by unhinged professors.

Either way, it's terrifying.

Though they had reached the entrance of the Main Building, the clock had yet to strike 2:22 AM, so the two concealed themselves nearby.

"The seniors look awfully frail," Hestia remarked, watching the distance. "Lack of exercise? Weak lower body? Seems like it."

"...You know, you really lack empathy."

"I don't want to hear that from an assassin who uses torture techniques on her classmates."

Over the next few minutes, they witnessed groups of upperclassmen passing by three more times. Some drifted past while giggling to themselves without cause, murmuring to the empty air. Others marched toward the woods behind the Main Building, shouldering colossal boulders for reasons known only to the gods.

"Isn't that a monster?" Hestia whispered suddenly.

"Don't you dare move, Hestia. The seniors will deal with it."

"Is it terrified? Why does it keep looking back?"

A beast had bolted frantically from the Main Building, only for several poisoned needles to slam into the nape of its neck. As paralytic venom took hold, the creature crashed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the ground with a dull thud. Moments later, an upperclassman strode over, spewing a steady stream of curses as he dragged the paralyzed monster away by its hind leg.

"I'm starting to get a little scared of this academy," Hestia confessed.

"Same here."

The two, who had never particularly gotten along, realized that in this harrowing hour of night, they had only each other to rely on.

"It's 2:20 AM. Let's head in."

Huddled shoulder-to-shoulder in newfound solidarity, they slipped into the Main Building's lobby. The instant the hands struck exactly 2:22 AM, Hestia grabbed Zhuang's hand and began ascending the central staircase leading to the second floor, just as Orknodi had instructed.

Hestia had harbored doubts, half-suspecting it was all an elaborate prank. But...

"Huh? What is this?"

"No way. There really is a secret room."

At the top of the stairs, instead of the expected second-floor lobby, a firmly shut wooden door greeted them.

"Orknodi, have you been waiting long?"

"Wait, I don't sense any presence inside—"

Ignoring Zhuang's warning, Hestia threw the door wide open. Inside Room 222, countless strips of paper hung from nails, blanketing every inch of the walls. It felt like stepping into the sanctum of a shaman or a dark mage’s cursed ritual chamber—an eerie, unsettling spectacle.

"What is this place?"

Zhuang approached the wall and inspected one of the paper slips hanging nearest to her.

"What kind of note is this?"

Baffled, she flicked the paper with her finger. As it spun around, text inscribed on the reverse came into view.

"...Seriously, what is this?"

Good news on the front. Horrifying reality on the back.

Professors, courses, artifacts, locations, recurring events—every conceivable detail of academy life was recorded on the slips. Even as a joke, it was too disturbing to laugh off, and if true, it was utterly bloodcurdling.

"Ah, you guys got here first!"

At 2:22:57 AM, Orknodi closed the door behind her, speaking in a bright, cheerful voice.

Zhuang leaped in the air like a startled cat. "W-W-What the—! Orknodi, why did you lure us into a suspicious room like this?!"

"I don't remember inviting Zhuang, though? I just told Hestia about this room!"

Hestia nodded in agreement. "Orknodi was bored in the middle of the night and wanted to hang out here, so she called for me. I just feel awful for making her wait here all alone for two nights in a row."

"No, no! I never waited for you!"

"You're always so kindhearted, Orknodi," Hestia said warmly. "Hiding the truth just so I won't feel guilty that you lost sleep waiting for me."

To Zhuang, however, Orknodi's strained smile looked more like: I just fell asleep at night and couldn't make it out, you know?

"So what is this room for anyway?" Zhuang pressed.

"It's the Room of Double-Sided Paper Strips!"

"I didn't ask for the room's name!" Zhuang grumbled. "...Fine, the Room of Double-Sided Paper Strips. Why does it even exist?"

"It's a collection of academy secrets created by our upperclassmen for the underclassmen!"

"Does that mean there were actual victims for all of these? There really was a senior who got dragged into Let's Become an Iron Man as a junior just because they drank Protein Soup five times?!"

"If you don't believe it, wouldn't you find out by asking Professor Plato directly tomorrow?"

"No way. That's terrifying."

Judging by what was written here about the professors' moral character, Zhuang was certain that any student who uncovered the secret would never be allowed to leave unscathed. Who knew? He might shove a soul contract into her hands right then and there, forcing her to sign: 'I will enroll in Let's Become an Iron Man in my third year, and I will maintain absolute confidentiality.'