Discipline 13. The Disciplinary Committee Leader Is Never Ambushed by Villains (5)
"The Head Principal...."
My voice scattered, powerless, in the downpour.
A backer so formidable that even someone as strong as Kim Dal-bi could do nothing against them. A dangerous secret that could kill for the mere act of hearing it. And a situation demanding vigilance against 'listening ears' even within the Federal Board's domain.
There was no hard proof, but every clue that had surfaced so far pointed to a single person.
A member of the Old Humanity—an elderly woman. An existence perched at the very apex of Academy City Neo Seoul's pyramid of power.
The Head Principal.
Known in shorthand as, simply, the Head Principal.
The office of ultimate authority, overseeing Neo Seoul in its entirety and devoting itself to the city's development and well-being. In a land with no king and no president, she filled the role of the 'Mayor'—the closest thing this place had to a supreme ruler.
No, wait.
In a land without tigers, the fox wears the crown, as they say. In the end, perhaps she was better regarded as something closer to a king or president.
Well, none of that was the important part.
Standing before that woman, I'd be worth less than a passing mosquito.
With time to think now, I could string together one inference after another.
Things are finally starting to settle in my head.
I looked down at Lee Ha-min, the bomber, unconscious in his restraints.
Before I'd attacked Ha-min, someone had already beaten me to it. Reconstructing the scene from what I'd witnessed, there was no doubt he'd been struck down by Dal-bi's dokkaebi.
That bastard's target was me.
How could I not know that Ha-min had detonated his bomb aiming for me?
So Dal-bi came to stop it?
Viewed that way, it made sense.
Ha....
Sweeping a hand back through my rain-soaked hair, I exhaled a sigh. My chest felt jammed shut, choked tight.
The problem was how Dal-bi kept shielding me. If she'd simply been an enemy, my head wouldn't have ached like this.
─ "Let's just run away together, you and me...."
Out of nowhere, the image of Dal-bi resurfaced—the look on her face as she'd tried to say those words.
Run away, in a city with nowhere left to run. What on earth had she been carrying inside her all this time, that she'd finally forced those words out wearing such a desperately resolved expression...? I couldn't begin to guess.
Enough.
I filed my feelings away and kept thinking.
In any case, Dal-bi caught on to Ha-min's objective in advance.
Working it through with my game knowledge as well: Ha-min had presumably accepted a contract-kill commission, and Dal-bi was hardly some superhuman capable of tracking the every move of every such killer.
Which meant—
Maybe what Dal-bi actually knew was the 'client.' And if that client was the Head Principal....
No matter how seasoned a bomber he was, perpetrating a terror attack inside the Federal Board's domain was unmistakably strange.
It only made sense if he had some guarantee to lean on.
Layer Dal-bi's movements on top of that, and the theory that the client was the Head Principal gained real weight.
Why she'd let Dal-bi interfere with the bomber, I couldn't say.
But if every one of Dal-bi's actions had been under control all this time, she never would have approached me and left that letter behind. Chances were this whole affair had blindsided the Head Principal too.
Once the hypothesis took shape, another question trailed right behind it.
The motive.
Why had the Head Principal set her sights on me?
Judging by how she'd used nothing more than an expendable pawn—easy to cut loose the moment things went south—a bomber at that, she evidently didn't rate my threat level very highly.
So if there was a reason she'd come after me, it most likely had nothing to do with the 'secret' Dal-bi had mentioned.
One possibility rose to the surface.
What if the Head Principal was Anomia's top patron?
Under that assumption, both the fact that the patron was a person of power and the Head Principal's motive for targeting me fell neatly into place.
After all, the single biggest reason Anomia lay in ruins was, effectively, me.
...It's still only circumstantial.
I'd hold off on certainty for now.
And with that, my five seconds of deliberation came to an end.
I crossed over to Lee Ha-min at a brisk pace.
First, his belongings.
This was Federal Board territory.
Ahseong High held no investigative authority here.
Ha-min's custody would pass straight to the Federal Board, and if the Head Principal moved, the man would be silenced for certain.
So if I wanted to find anything, this was my only window.
I went straight to rifling through Ha-min's pockets.
...Nothing.
Not even the most mundane smartphone.
Everything on him was auxiliary equipment suited to a bombing.
And that was when—
Splash.
The sound of footsteps treading through rainwater. I sensed two figures behind me.
"Disciplinary Committee Leader of Ahseong High?"
A woman's voice. I turned my head and took in the pair who'd come looking for me.
One was a girl I'd seen in the game, combat gear worn over a nun's habit. The other was a boy armed much the same way.
Spartoi?
I recognized at a glance that their battle dress belonged to the 'Spartoi'—agents operating under the Federal Board.
Rising to my feet, I faced them.
"A pleasure to meet you. We are the 'Spartoi.' Under the Federal Board's authority."
The nun-clad girl bowed her head with practiced courtesy and greeted me in a gentle, kindly voice. Her partner bowed as well.
The Spartoi were hounds built to run black operations.
Yet for some reason, they showed no intention whatsoever of concealing who they were.
"We were dispatched as soon as the report came in... it seems we were too slow."
This was Federal Board domain. Nothing about their appearance was strange.
The Spartoi were Neo Seoul's most elite combat operatives. Even their weakest ranked among the stronger 5th Tier, and 6th Tier was commonplace among them.
They moved in secret, beneath the surface. Had they ever stepped into the light, the Academy City rankings would have needed a full rewrite.
Just then, Baek-seo descended gracefully to the ground. The instant her feet touched down, she eyed the two students standing before me, suspicion plain on her face.
"...You'll be aware Kim Dal-bi escaped, I take it. And the district lockdown?"
"Yeees, it went into effect right away! Personnel will be arriving here shortly. Ah—they're already here."
Down the alley, security robots and Administrative Bureau students were advancing on us.
That was fast. Apparently they'd pinpointed the location from Baek-seo and Dal-bi's battle and come straight here.
"Leader Ahn Woo-jin. Allow us to express our gratitude for holding back the villains and protecting the citizens. Had you not delivered such a sublime performance, there's no telling what might have come of it...! My head spins just imagining it!"
In a voice soft as syrup, the nun-clad girl mouthed her theatrical flourishes, hands pressed together at her chest.
"Truly a performance worthy of the word 'hero.' I'm certain the Lord rejoices as well!"
"Yeees."
"This more than qualifies under the regulations, so the Federal Board will be awarding you Platinum Mileage. Yeees, you performed a great deed, so receiving a reward to match is only right and proper!"
"......"
"...Are you hurt anywhere, perhaps?"
My lukewarm reception must have struck her as awkward, because the nun-clad girl tilted her head and tried another question.
I shook my head.
"What a relief. You've been through a great deal. Leave that man in our care. We'll simply need a statement about the incident from you—one of our people will take it? For the investigation."
"Yes... understood."
Her manner was gracious, but the graciousness stopped at the surface.
Memories of her from the game resurfaced. The nun's habit, as a distinguishing feature, had made her unusually easy to remember.
Right—this woman was a hound who served the Head Principal with total devotion. She wasn't the type to bare her identity this easily.
I got the distinct sense that whoever had dispatched them was feeling the pressure.
And the reason, I'd already read between the lines.
They were sent to secure the bomber's custody before anyone else could.
Handing Lee Ha-min over was unavoidable.
When agents of the Federal Board—a power organ—declared their intent to exercise legitimate authority, what leverage did I possibly have?
Even if I'd extracted testimony from Ha-min that the Head Principal had targeted me, it would never be enough to roast the city's supreme authority over the coals. If anything, it might only have pulled forward the date my own story got cut short.
I already have what matters.
I'd walked away with the crucial piece: the Head Principal had to be watched. That was enough.
There was no such thing as fighting her through legitimate channels anyway.
While she still underestimated me enough to send a mere bomber, stirring up trouble would be a losing play.
Better to hand Ha-min over, docile as a lamb.
"Thank you for your efforts."
So there was no reason to prolong the conversation. After a brief parting nod to the gently smiling nun, I made my way over to Baek-seo.
"Baek-seo, any injuries?"
Baek-seo shook her head.
"And you, Leader?"
"I'm fine."
As I answered, I took stock of the drones scattered across the ground, downed by the lightning Baek-seo had called down. Every last one lay smashed to wreckage, torn apart by the acceleration of its own fall.
Federal Board drones...
By their markings, they did indeed belong to the Federal Board.
Which meant their presence here was perfectly natural.
All of this... is the 'listening ears'?
If Dal-bi had been guarding her words against those ears all this time, their reach would never have stopped at the Federal Board.
Better put: the Board's drones were 'included' among the listening ears. And the only person with the hidden authority to arrange that was the Head Principal.
Of course, she was no god. Catching every word drifting through the Academy City would be impossible.
My best guess was that an AI performed the ears' actual work—flagging any mention of the Head Principal's secrets with uncanny, ghostlike precision.
The problem is, it isn't empty paranoia.
Security drones were engineered to detect even faint sound waves, built for rapid assessment of crime scenes.
In the Head Principal's hands, that capability turned into a weapon.
Unbelievable....
My head throbbed.
Why had I—armed with all my knowledge of the game—never once spared the Head Principal a thought?
The first reason: I'd written her off as an ordinary extra of no consequence.
But the second was the real one.
She kills herself within the year anyway.
Unlike Anomia, which ended the game in total ruin, or Lee Se-ah, who met an unnatural death—the Head Principal was fated to take her own life this very year, swallowed by depression.
On that point, there had been no room for doubt.
That such a person had been pulling strings behind Dal-bi's back... I struggled to believe it.
......
The situation had drawn to a close.
Kim Dal-bi had already vanished without a trace.
Truthfully, it was exactly what I'd expected. In the game, once Dal-bi warped away wreathed in flame, pursuit became impossible.
With our statements taken, Baek-seo and I left Shin Yongsan Street behind.
Since the incident had unfolded under Federal Board jurisdiction, the investigation belonged to them by right. Custody of Lee Ha-min, the bomber, was handed over as well.
My date with Baek-seo had wrapped up in the worst possible way, but I had no mental breathing room left to mourn it. My head was too crowded.
"......"
"......"
...That said.
As we walked the night streets, a fresh question lifted its head.
"Baek-seo."
"Mm?"
"Your place isn't this direction, is it?"
Why was this girl still glued to my side?
Baek-seo tilted her head and blinked those big eyes at me, as though I'd asked something absurd.
"You said I could come to your place whenever I wanted, didn't you?"
"I did, but it's late."
"I'll stay over tonight."
...?
"In case it turns dangerous."
...Isn't overprotectiveness a disease too?
Of course, I understood. She was apparently worried about me after my fight with Kim Dal-bi.
"You don't need to worry. I can look after myself—"
"I'm hungry, too."
Baek-seo cut me off and looked up at me.
Then she asked, a small smile blooming.
"Will you make me some ramyeon?"
"Ramyeon?"
Baek-seo nodded. A way of clearing the heavy air between us, maybe. Whatever her reason, her resolve came through unmistakably.
"......"
I'd noticed it ever since the battle with Dal-bi—how Baek-seo's hands trembled at odd moments, so faintly you could almost miss it.
She seemed to be hiding it, tucking her hands away with practiced ease, but no change in Baek-seo was too small to escape me—not when I'd been watching her this closely.
And in the middle of all that, she wanted to come home with me. If there was anything I could do for her, I wanted to do it.
More than anything.
"Sure. Let's eat."
Baek-seo was asking me to cook her ramyeon, after all.
There was no refusing that.
Baek-seo's face brightened all the more.