A Courteous Report and the Night Visitor

“Come on! Just once! Can’t you show me again, slowly?”

In the corridor connecting the training grounds to the main building, Seria clung tightly to Yeomyeong’s side, repeating the same request for the fifth time. Her short stride forced her to take quick, scurrying steps to match his single pace, yet she seemed completely unaware of it.

“There’s nothing to show. I simply walked.”

“People disappear just by walking?! Without even an afterimage?!”

“My steps are rather quick. In my previous life—no, back home—I transferred subways quite often.”

“What’s a subway?!”

“An Eastern means of transportation. Miss one, and you’re stuck waiting an agonizingly long time for the next.”

When Yeomyeong brushed it off with casual ease, Seria shook her twin-tailed hair in clear frustration. She then pulled out a palm-sized notebook and began scribbling furiously.

Yeomyeong caught a glimpse of the notebook and nearly burst out laughing. She’s like a brand-new research hire. Zero flexibility, but her persistence is terrifying.

At that moment, Seol-ah, who had been walking ahead, stopped and turned around. Her cold gaze pierced straight into Seria.

“……Magic Department. Seria, was it?”

“Ah, yes! You’re Lady Shin Seol-ah, correct?! I’ve heard your affinity for ice-type magic is absolutely incredible. Earlier on the promenade, the way frost formed on the grass—”

“Earlier,” Seol-ah cut her off mid-sentence. Yet her voice was pitched half a tone away from its usual icy register. “I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lodged a protest with the professor. I told him it was unfair to put us forward for the first demonstration.”

“Oh, that? Of course it was unfair.”

Seria shrugged as if the question itself were absurdly obvious. “The behavioral patterns of Western magical beasts are something even Western students only learn after a full semester of theory classes. Making an international student who’s been here barely a week do the first demonstration isn’t an evaluation—it’s just hazing. An experiment without proper variable control isn’t an experiment. It’s an accident.”

“……”

Seol-ah’s eyes trembled faintly. There was no pity, no superiority, no political calculus. The girl’s words contained nothing but the simple, flat logic that what is unfair is unfair. To Seol-ah, who had spent the entire week since enrollment parrying only the hidden blades behind elegant masks, that flat honesty felt almost alien.

“……I wanted to thank you.”

Seol-ah forced the words out, then hurriedly turned and walked away. A faint chill trailed behind her quickened steps.

Seria’s eyes widened as she looked up at Yeomyeong.

“……Did I just receive a word of gratitude?”

“Yes. By her standards, that was practically a deep bow.”

“Wow. Eastern people really are fascinating. Oh, but about ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that footwork from earlier—”

“You should head to class, Miss Seria. Being late will only give those esteemed professors another excuse to say, ‘As expected of a commoner, her sense of time…’”

“Ugh…… hitting me right where it hurts……! Just you wait! I will uncover the principle behind it!”

Seria stomped her foot in frustration, yet still hugged her notebook protectively to her chest as she trotted off toward the Magic Department building.

Yeomyeong watched her retreating figure with a small smile. The smile never left his lips, but his gaze slowly swept across the corridor left and right.

……The number of eyes has increased.

Until that morning, an invisible two-meter radius had surrounded Yeomyeong and Seol-ah. The circle still existed. Only now, the students outside it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could no longer treat the pair as if they didn’t exist.

Whispers, sidelong glances, eyes swirling with curiosity and wariness.

From invisible people to unidentified beasts.

Better than being ignored. At least I’ve taught them that touching carelessly will get them bitten.

Still, one gaze lingered unpleasantly. The sticky, sunken presence that had brushed his nape as they left the training ground. Eyes that measured and calculated—different in nature from the students’ curious stares. That gaze hadn’t scanned his face; it had swept precisely across his left sleeve before vanishing. The exact spot where he had hidden the fragment.

“Sit.”

The moment they returned to Dongbang-gwan, Seol-ah dragged Yeomyeong into the first-floor tea room. The heavy door closed, and the energy of the protective formation flowing along the walls sealed off all external sound and mana.

Without so much as touching the teapot, Seol-ah fixed her gaze on Yeomyeong, who sat across from her.

“Kang Yeomyeong. The report I received from my home country stated that you are a collateral descendant of the Ilwol Sect and that your martial prowess is at a ‘suitable level’ for escort duty.”

“An excessive evaluation.”

“Not excessive. Understated.”

Seol-ah’s voice dropped. “The movements you displayed today far exceed a ‘suitable level.’ Three rampaging magical beasts subdued in ten seconds, sword still sheathed, breathing perfectly steady. ……Even among the military officials of my home country, only a handful could move like that. What are you hiding? Who exactly are you?”

It was a direct, unyielding interrogation.

Yeomyeong glanced down at the empty bottom of his teacup for a moment. Here it comes. The classic high-pressure interview question.

He couldn’t tell the truth. The instant he said, I’m actually a salaryman from another world, and I have no idea how strong the original owner of this body was, trust would evaporate and he’d be labeled a madman.

Lying was equally impossible. This young lady had a nose for falsehoods. It was the unique sense honed by someone who had lived her entire life surrounded by fake smiles.

That left only one option: carve out a useful slice of the truth and present it.

“Young lady.”

Yeomyeong drew a small metal fragment from inside his sleeve and set it quietly on the table.

“Before my story, there is something you need to see first.”

“……This is from a Mana Restraining Device?”

“A fragment of the device fastened around the necks of those wolves today. Please examine the cross-section.”

Seol-ah picked it up. The blue mana-stone circuits engraved on the cut surface. Along those circuits ran a dark crimson foreign substance, melted in like a thin thread.

The moment her fingertip touched it, her brows drew together.

“……An unpleasant energy. It’s mana, yet not mana. Sticky…… and turbid.”

“As I thought, you sense it too. I had the exact same impression.”

Yeomyeong nodded.

“The restraining device was tampered with after it passed the professor’s inspection. In other words, this is the work of an insider with access to magical tools. And, young lady—do you remember who those wolves charged toward?”

“……”

Seol-ah’s fingers froze. The scene from the training ground resurfaced. Three pairs of red eyes, out of dozens of students, locking onto her nape with lethal precision.

“……It was me.”

“Correct. It may have been a rampage engineered to target the strongest mana signature, or it may have been aimed at you from the start. Either way—”

Yeomyeong placed both hands neatly on the table and straightened his spine. It was the posture of a man delivering a formal report.

“This has moved beyond mere territoriality or power games. Someone wanted you injured—or at the very least, humiliated in front of the entire student body. Therefore, starting today, I intend to elevate the escort protocol by one grade. For that to be effective, it would be best if you understood my exact capabilities.”

“……Which is why I asked who you are.”

“I am your escort warrior of the Ilwol Sect, young lady.”

Yeomyeong smiled gently.

“Merely a little more useful than the report suggested. If my home country understated my martial prowess, that is their political concern. Sending an overly capable hostage as an escort would naturally make the West wary. I was simply keeping my cards hidden. For moments like today, when they needed to be played.”

Not a single word was a lie. He had merely tucked away the one truth—I didn’t realize my hand was quite this strong—into a drawer.

Seol-ah stared into his eyes for a long time, searching for the scent of deception. Yet within those black pupils, only an unmeasurable depth lay quietly submerged.

At last she withdrew her gaze and set the fragment back on the table.

“……Very well. I will not press further. Even if I did, you would simply slip away with that sly expression of yours.”

“Your insight is excellent.”

“But promise me one thing.”

Seol-ah’s voice trembled, ever so slightly.

“If something like today happens again…… do not shoulder ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠everything alone and stand in front. I am not weak enough to be hidden behind someone’s back. I cannot be weak.”

What clung to the end of those words was not pride, but desperation. The thin, taut string of someone who believed they would be abandoned the moment their weakness was proven.

Yeomyeong regarded that string for a moment, then slowly lowered his head.

“I promise. From now on, I will not stand behind you, but keep the seat beside you open.”

“……Good.”

Seol-ah gave a short reply and rose. As she reached the door, she paused with her back to him.

“……You worked hard today.”

The door closed.

Yeomyeong sat alone in the empty tea room, gazed at the ceiling, and exhaled deeply.

VIP trust level—minor increase. Excellent. Proceeding on schedule.

That night, Yeomyeong sat in his room, examining the fragment by the light of a single lantern. He held it between his index and middle fingers, drawing a thread of Internal Energy (Neigong) from his dantian and sending it into the dark crimson substance on the cross-section.

In that instant, the foreign substance twitched.

“……Huh.”

Yeomyeong’s eyes narrowed.

When he poured in his energy, the dark red thread neither repelled nor absorbed it. Instead, like a starving leech, it groped along the flow, searching for ‘something’ mixed within.

What it sought, Yeomyeong understood instinctively.

Anger. Resentment. Loneliness. Deficiency.

Once the poured Neigong grew calm as a still lake, the substance lost interest and reverted to inert mineral.

……It is neither mana nor qi. An energy that feeds on emotion.

“……So that’s what it was.”

Yeomyeong wrapped the fragment in cloth and tucked it deep into his robes. A chill ran down his spine.

The wolves today might not have been aiming for Seol-ah’s life. The terror of death, public humiliation, helplessness—stacking those negative emotions inside her. If that was the true objective—

This isn’t territoriality. This is aquaculture. What a vicious scheme……

At that moment, Yeomyeong’s finger slowly pressed the lantern wick, extinguishing the flame.

In the darkened room, he remained motionless on the bed. Only the energy from his dantian expanded silently with each breath, spreading a sensory net beyond the roof of Dongbang-gwan.

There it was. At the far edge of the garden where the formation’s boundary ended, crouched upon a branch of an old oak tree, a presence that had erased even its breathing.

It had already been there for a full quarter-hour.

Unable to step even one foot inside the formation, it simply stared with stubborn fixation at the window of Yeomyeong’s room. The exact same sticky presence that had swept across his sleeve in the training ground.

They came to retrieve the fragment but can’t enter because of the formation, so they’re just stomping their feet in frustration.

In the darkness, Yeomyeong slowly curved his lips upward.

The opponent was impatient. As long as the evidence remained, the tail of the conspiracy could be stepped on at any time. And an impatient rat would always follow wherever the cheese moved.

Yes. No need to wait here. Tomorrow, this cheese will take a nice little walk.

Tomorrow morning, Yeomyeong planned to stroll very leisurely, very defenselessly, through a secluded area while carrying the fragment. Somewhere like the remote promenade behind the library, for instance.

The presence outside the window shifted faintly. The oak branch swayed without sound, and the gaze began to retreat into the deeper darkness.

Yeomyeong lay back on the bed and murmured in a low, locked voice.

“Then I shall see you tomorrow, guest.”

In the darkness, only his two eyes shone quietly—like those of a predator.