Rule 1: The Disciplinary Committee Leader Is Never Late (2)

Ahn Woo-jin's reasoning went something like this.

If he simply claimed that his lateness had been unavoidable—forced upon him by the need to resolve a critical incident—who could argue? The same went for why he'd caught a later train. If he dropped the right hints about having seen through Anomia's scheme in advance, every piece of the story would click neatly into place.

So Woo-jin bided his time, reading the room, planning to deliver the line: I had your entire plan figured out from the start.

Meanwhile, the tattooed student stood frozen, both eyes stretched wide.

"A Disciplinary Committee armband...?"

Naturally, the Disciplinary Committee was one of the organizations to be feared and watched closely. They were an armed force that single-handedly handled the suppression of criminal activity within each school's jurisdiction, after all. Which meant every member of Anomia had the armband designs memorized by heart.

"Holy crap, that's... the Disciplinary Committee Leader of Ahseong...?"

The armband Ahn Woo-jin wore belonged to the Committee Leader himself. The tattooed student couldn't close his mouth.

I knew his face looked familiar...! It's the one from the files!

He hadn't recognized him right away because of the cap pulled low over his eyes. The new Disciplinary Committee Leader of Ahseong High School—Ahn Woo-jin. One of those monstrous powerhouses against whom no amount of gathered intel or meticulously laid strategy could guarantee a victory.

Why is the Committee Leader here, of all places...?

Doubt rippled through the tattooed student's mind.

"Ahseong's Disciplinary Committee Leader? Why is that guy here?"

"We already confirmed he's always the very first student through the school gates...?"

"There's no reason for him to be here! Any Ahseong kid standing in this spot right now would have to be late...!"

The Anomia operatives murmured among themselves, lost in confusion. Their bewilderment was the natural conclusion. The new Leader of Ahseong's Disciplinary Committee, Ahn Woo-jin, was a model student who had arrived at school before everyone else without missing a single day since his first year. Anomia had already committed that fact to memory.

If an Ahseong student were standing here at this moment, lateness would be inevitable. And yet—why? Why was the Leader who stood farther from tardiness than anyone alive, the paragon who had never once let his composure slip... here, on this train, at this very hour?

"There's no way a guy like that would be late to something. Wait—!"

In that instant, they all arrived at the same conclusion. Only one explanation fit the facts.

"Don't tell me... he saw through our plan...?"

"We were already in the palm of his hand this whole time!?"

That was it. There was no other way to explain why Ahseong's Disciplinary Committee Leader would be standing here. They had poured every ounce of effort into keeping the operation airtight. Not one of them could even begin to guess how the information had leaked. Just what kind of terrifying man was this?

"......?"

Woo-jin was flustered, but he let none of it show. He hadn't expected them to do the deductive work on his behalf. Nothing painful about it, though—if anything, it made his life easier. All that remained now was the suppression itself.

Without a word, Woo-jin advanced on the remaining Anomia operatives. Judging by his knowledge of the game, stragglers of this caliber were something he could handle alone.

"There's no retreat! We fight!"

"G-Grab him! Right now!"

"Everyone, rush him at once!"

For the moment, fleeing a runaway locomotive was easier said than done. Like cornered prey thrashing in a desperate bid to survive a predator, the Anomia operatives hurled themselves at Woo-jin in a single wave.

"Ugh!"

"Kraaagh!"

It was not a contest. Each time Woo-jin traced a half-moon arc and swung his three-section staff with practiced ease, another Anomia member crumpled, writhing in agony or out cold. Even a steel club swung full-force couldn't have carried that much power. Worse still, the strikes were laced with lightning mana—even barely withstanding a blow meant your whole body was wracked with voltage.

"Eurghaa!!"

Convinced Woo-jin had left an opening, the tattooed student squeezed out his last reserves of strength and charged.

Shaaang!

His mana-infused axe split the air with a vicious whine. Woo-jin tilted his upper body to the side and slipped past it with ease.

Thud!

"Kgh!"

The three-section staff hammered into the tattooed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠student's gut, and he went rolling across the floor once more.

"Ugh! Uurk!"

He heaved up the contents of his stomach, then looked up at Woo-jin with eyes full of disbelief.

I can't... beat him.

The gulf in skill was stark. He'd believed there was no shame a mob couldn't solve—but Woo-jin was cheerfully shattering that common sense to pieces. At last, the tattooed student reached his limit and blacked out.

The fierce battle continued. Anomia fought with the valor of Spartan soldiers, howling war cries as they attacked. But to the students watching from the sidelines, it was nothing more than a one-sided slaughter carried out by a single man.

Lee Tae-sung, the original story's protagonist, along with every other student who'd been biding their time for an opening, couldn't even entertain the thought of intervening. They simply swallowed their dry spit, again and again.

The train returned to its proper route, and the Anomia operatives who had seized it were all placed under arrest and loaded into transport vehicles.

I would've been through hell if our school's Disciplinary Committee hadn't shown up. From here, my people will interrogate the Anomia members and dig into the case. They'll handle it fine on their own.

'Anomia won't be growing any larger from this point anyway, so it hardly matters.' The syndicate would fail to swell its ranks any further and collapse under its own weight down the road. Of course, there was always the chance things would go sideways and Anomia would stage a resurgence. But if any such signs appeared, did they really think I'd just sit on my hands?

'The real problem is the mafia side, if anything.'

In contrast, the mafia—the syndicate locked in opposition with Anomia—would be the one to grow its influence later, open the black market, and rise into a true Great Evil. Even so, I'd always classified the mafia not as a purge target but as a "watch target," one tier below. 'They fall apart on their own eventually, anyway.' Not long after becoming a Great Evil, the mafia disintegrated. Probably because they were an event villain—the story never explained why they met such a hollow end, though it likely had something to do with the next boss's sudden death.

Which ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meant all I needed to do was keep close tabs on that next boss's movements. Finding him came first, but there was no rush. In any case, incidents involving Anomia and the mafia fell comfortably within what I could handle under my own authority.

"Thank you for your hard work, Leader."

"Handle the rest yourselves. Good work."

"Yes, sir!"

The Ahseong Disciplinary Committee transport officer saluted me and departed. We were in the same year, but the chain of command meant he addressed me with full formality.

Strange, this. Having a classmate talk to me in honorifics.

As I watched my subordinate's back recede into the distance, a familiar voice washed over my ears.

"Our Leader, making a grand spectacle of himself on day one."

A soft, gentle voice. Another Disciplinary Committee member had crept up beside me at some point. I turned my head toward her—and a girl entered my view, a red armband on her left arm and a blade sheathed at her waist. The armband was trimmed in silver.

The mark of the Vice Leader.

"Not commanding the scene?"

"I came to see you for a moment."

Oh Baek-seo. My classmate, who as of this year had taken up the posts of the Disciplinary Committee's senior administrative officer and Vice Leader. When the disturbance on the train was reported, she'd led the Committee members here. There'd been no need for the Vice Leader to come in person, but she said that when she heard I was suppressing the situation alone, she'd come anyway, just in case.

Baek-seo was an all-around talent who showed commendable ability in every field, enjoyed deep popular support, and boasted combat strength far above the norm—an ace in every sense. Because of that, she was counted among the most admired figures not just in the Disciplinary Committee but across all of Ahseong High School.

So why hadn't she been appointed Leader from the very beginning? Because Baek-seo hadn't wanted the position. The reason: it felt like too heavy a burden.

Thank the heavens she had no appetite for the Leader's seat... if she had, I couldn't even have dreamed of taking the position myself.

In any case. Having known Baek-seo's heart from the start, I had never once regarded her as a rival for the Leader's chair. I'd simply dealt with her comfortably, without pretense. That ease, I learned at our last staff dinner, was what made me look composed even when facing her—and it had earned bonus points toward being accepted as a Leader of proper caliber.

'The real question is how the Committee members see me.'

What about the rank and file? Some of them might struggle to find a reason to follow me over Baek-seo. I certainly would have, in their position. And that was precisely why Baek-seo's very existence gave me one more reason to work myself to the bone—to become as perfect a Leader as I could be.

"Wasn't that something? If you hadn't been there, this could have snowballed into something enormous." Baek-seo glanced over the documents on her clipboard, speaking in her usual warm, unhurried tone. "There's no telling how many students on that train might have been hurt, and the railway would have taken a brutal financial hit—operations were suspended across the entire line. Our Leader has racked up debts in half a dozen places at once. Well done."

A smile like a kindergarten teacher doting on a small child spread across Baek-seo's entire face. She looked one second away from patting me on the head.

"Good to hear."

I took hold of my cap's brim and responded flatly, as if brushing off dust.

Baek-seo tilted her head.

"You say that like it was nothing at all."

"I only did what needed doing."

"Is that so?"

It was. I'd done what needed doing, nothing more.

Baek-seo studied me intently, stroking her chin. For some reason, a fresh, delighted smile bloomed across her face.

"I couldn't spot you anywhere, so I was starting to wonder if you'd actually gone and been late on your very first day..."

"Don't be ridiculous. Would I do something so undignified?"

"Of course not. The Leader would never."

Somehow, a single bead of cold sweat slid down my cheek.

"Anyway, that was impressive. I never imagined you'd uncovered Anomia's plan in advance. I had no idea whatsoever. You could have at least given me a hint."

I had no idea either...

"I wasn't certain. Besides, the moment word got out that I knew their plan, information control would've gone out the window from then on. I was being careful."

I shrugged and deflected with the most natural-sounding tone I could manage.

"I see... then you really do have some work to do, becoming someone the Leader can trust."

Baek-seo shrugged her shoulders right back at me, mimicking my gesture.

"That's not the same as saying I don't trust you."

"I know. I meant it as a matter of methodology."

Baek-seo turned her gaze toward the train where the incident had unfolded.

"Needless to say, the lateness won't be counted against you. I'll file the exemption paperwork, so our Leader can head straight to the opening ceremony. First Squad will handle the cleanup here."

"I'll leave it to you. Process the case, and report anything unusual."

"Got it."

My role in the immediate aftermath was done.

"Then I'll get back to commanding the scene."

With that, Baek-seo turned and walked away.

Hold on—why is she heading in a completely different direction?

Oh. Is she going to the bathroom?

Anyway... it was truly, completely over now.

Huuuuuuh...

I let out a long, deep sigh of relief. The lateness had become an unavoidable matter. After all, I was now, on paper, the man who had foreseen Anomia's plot and personally subdued them. Far from tarnishing my image, I'd succeeded in banking an achievement on the very first day. Truly, the heavens had a will of their own. I looked up at the cloudless sky and offered my thanks. Hey, I was counting on you, you son of a—!

Just then, Baek-seo seemed to remember something. She stopped mid-stride and turned back around—right as she passed beyond the corner, into a blind spot where the eyes of the Committee members cleaning up the scene couldn't reach.

Her benevolent smile found me.

"Leader."

"?"

Baek-seo beckoned slyly, her hand waving me over with a gentle sway.

"Come here."

What now?

Narrowing my eyes, I went anyway. Maybe she wanted to pull some prank or other; no harm in humoring her. The moment I stepped into the blind spot, Baek-seo's hand rose toward my head.

Swooosh. She straightened my cap for me, then undid my tie and began retying it from scratch.

"...What are you doing?"

"It was bothering me. It was crooked."

Huh. So it had gotten knocked askew during the fight.

"I appreciate it and all... but did you really have to do it here?"

Of all the secluded spots.

Baek-seo looked me dead in the eye, smiled with unmistakable meaning, and whispered.

"If the others caught us like this, they might get the wrong idea—that we're flirting, or a couple? Feel free to keep it up if that's what you want."

"In that case, never mind."

She was exactly right. We were the Disciplinary Committee—the body charged with the strict enforcement of public morals. Of all people, we couldn't let even a speck of romantic atmosphere escape into the open. Ahseong High School had enshrined a no-dating clause in its school regulations on the grounds that romance interfered with studies.

An awkward silence settled over us after that. All the while, Baek-seo's soft fingers worked with practiced skill, shaping my tie into a clean, crisp knot.

I swallowed dryly.

Why am I nervous? It's just a tie.

At last, the knot was finished.

"All done."

"Thanks for looking after me."

But—hold on. She hadn't taken her hands off my tie.

Did she have something to say?

"...Baek-seo?"

"We're second-years now."

At my call, Baek-seo spoke, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her voice slow and honeyed.

"We are."

She released my tie, met my eyes once more, and broke into a radiant smile.

"Leader."

"?"

"Let's take good care of each other this year too."

Where did that come from?

Ah. Come to think of it, today was our first day officially serving as Leader and Vice Leader, wasn't it? It sounded like her way of saying, let's give it everything we've got.

'This kid... sentimental, isn't she.'

The corner of my mouth crept upward. And when someone said something like that, common decency demanded you fire the exact same words right back.

"Same here. Looking forward to it."

I returned her greeting with a proper formal bow, then stepped back. I lowered my head to inspect the tie, running my fingers over it. Perfectly knotted, clean lines. Versatile as ever, our Baek-seo.

"Nice knot. For someone who never wears ties."

"I practiced."

"Why?"

"No idea."

?

Baek-seo flashed a grin, slipped past me, and was gone.

......

I arrived at school. Since I was late regardless, I decided to skip the opening ceremony already in progress and headed straight for the Disciplinary Committee's executive office. Hanging high on the wall of the old-fashioned office was a work of calligraphy inscribed with the words, For the Revival of Humanity.

First things first—file the lateness exemption.

Baek-seo had said she'd take care of it, but I had no intention of piling this sort of chore on her too. Attendance was recorded electronically, so I'd already be marked late. Which meant all I had to do was submit a lateness/absence exemption request through the school homepage, and the AI would evaluate whether my reason was legitimate and issue a ruling.

Hm?

...Why is it already submitted?

The request was sitting in Under Review status?

I examined the submitted form.

Baek-seo had already submitted it for me. The timestamp on the request fell right in the middle of my arresting the Anomia operatives.

The attached file contained case records I was seeing for the first time.

Well, well...

Hah. A hollow laugh slipped out between my teeth.

Once a request was processed, its contents could no longer be viewed. If the opening ceremony had already ended, that would have been that. I canceled the submitted request and drafted a new one. This matter, I decided, would stay strictly between me and me—the Vice Leader was not to know. Whether to take it as a good thing that she'd gone this far to cover for me, or not...

I deliberated for a long, long while.