Chapter 128
Chapter 128
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 128
Chapter Title: 43. Campus Social Service 3/10 (1)
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“Hey, you fucking bastard!”
“Argh! This crazy fucker…!”
Thwack! Thwack! Splat! A brawl was breaking out on the street.
One cadet had tackled another. The two traded punches. Someone’s nasal bone cracked. Another’s lip split open.
“Why are you doing this! Why! Don’t do it!”
As if it were some lovers’ quarrel, a female cadet flailed helplessly between them, yelling at the top of her lungs.
“You piece of shit! Think I won’t kill you?”
The slightly smaller cadet unleashed his ability. It was a clear violation of academy rules, but this was neither the time nor the mood to care. Sharp spines sprouted from his forearm, raking across the cheek of the cadet pinning him down.
Blood sprayed across the pavement.
The commotion was growing. People were gathering. Unfortunately, most were cadets or staff, so no one stepped in to break it up. The vibe was to just wait for the disciplinary committee.
Smack! “Gah!” The fight was intensifying.
“……”
Yoo Ji-tae happened to be passing by.
…And he just kept walking.
His stride was perfectly natural, as if he’d seen nothing.
His breakfast this morning was toast and skewered fish cakes—favorites of Gaeul’s, and with Yeoreum’s recently spiked appetite, he’d packed a whopping twenty servings in both hands.
This couldn’t get cold.
Cadets scrapping like this was a common sight in the Lair, surprisingly enough. Young. Talented. Proud. Kids trained as soldiers. Incidents never stopped with that mix.
And assaults or injuries? Cute stuff by comparison.
Morning. He fed the girls.
He got a report from his clone about Ma Nam-jun and the remaining demonkin.
‘Understood. We’ll keep monitoring. Loyalty to the Sovereign.’
OK.
Today, he wasn’t tagging along with them. He had morning business.
“We’re off! Have a good day too, Ajusshi!”
Bom, Yeoreum, and Gaeul—in their cadet uniforms and bags in hand—headed for the academy district. Yoo Ji-tae parted ways and walked in the opposite direction.
His destination today: the disciplinary office. Time to pay for his crime.
Second floor. He entered the on-campus social service office. Empty, so he sat in a chair nearby. A few staff members belatedly unlocked the door and came in.
“Ah, ah! Guardian Yoo Ji-tae!?”
The senior staffer’s name was Lee Chi-mon.
He introduced himself as the office’s perennial section chief. He looked flustered. Lately, whether staff or guardians, everyone reacted like this upon meeting him.
“Goodness! We had people waiting at the front gate, but how did we miss you? Sorry we’re late.”
“It’s fine. Came through the back.”
“Oh dear. Should’ve sent someone else. My mistake. Apologies.”
Lee Chi-mon fussed over him like a fly rubbing its hands.
“Sorry about this. Haha. We’ll get you set up for service right away.”
His smile was obsequious.
The guy there for social service was getting this kind of treatment from the disciplinary office. The ‘Yoo family’ myth had become this convenient a tool.
“This way, please!”
In the reception room, Lee Chi-mon personally brewed and served lemon black tea, stroking his scraggly mustache.
“Ahem. So, Guardian, what service would suit you best today?”
Something off about that. He was there to do social service, yet being asked what he wanted to do. Offered a list like it was takeout.
“Don’t volunteers usually pick?”
“Pardon? Well… uh… You know how it is, right? The disciplinary office has some flexibility. Haha.”
In short, perks for the Yoo family.
He had no real preference. Just wanted to finish quick. But scanning the list, nothing appealed.
—Tidy flower beds at Gate 3. (1 hour)
—Flower arranging for admin office. (1 hour)
—Basic aid cadet meal service (cooking, 1 hour)
—Childcare for staff kids. (1 hour)
All one-hour gigs. At this rate, he’d have to come back ten times.
But one stood out. A three-hour service.
“I’ll take this.”
“Pardon? Oh, that one?”
—Escort for delinquent cadet detention release. (3 hours)
“W-Well… It’s not exactly the best spot, you see.”
“Pardon?”
“Tough service… Deals with trash who barely avoided expulsion for violence, drugs, sex crimes, that sort. Won’t listen, no potential. Especially that Jake from Noblesse School. Awful record. Would’ve been expelled ages ago if not Noblesse… Ahem.”
“……”
“Anyway, this release escort has documentary filming too. As you know, any force, threats, or abuse on cadets hits the Lair’s image hard…”
Lee Chi-mon trailed off with an awkward laugh.
A pitiful plea: if he went, please don’t get mad or anything.
“Pick flower arranging instead, and I’ll pull strings. Make it so you don’t have to work.”
Flower arranging?
“Time’s tight. Can you stretch it to three hours?”
“Ah, w-well… Extending time is tricky… It’s all computerized…”
“Then this it is.”
Yoo Ji-tae was stubborn. Lee Chi-mon, desperate not to upset him, sweated bullets but failed to dissuade.
About 500m north of the Lair disciplinary office. Buried underground amid foliage, the detention facility’s basement barracks came into view. There, Yoo Ji-tae met the warden.
Elderly middle-aged man. Around sixty. Kindly face. Balding badly, awkwardly combed-over sides. His temperament matched his looks—rarely, but his good/evil per Scales Eye (SS) registered as utmost good.
Not superhuman by his aura. Probably not ex-military. Likely a senior welfare hire for warden duty.
“Guidance work… It’s noble, really.”
A bit of a talker, the man began.
“Everyone slips up once in life. Young cadets? Even more so. I think delinquent cadets just lacked a chance to be good.”
Not interested.
“So when dealing with cadets, I always approach with the same mindset…”
Yoo Ji-tae didn’t reply, but the warden enthusiastically expounded his philosophy.
He had to endure the uninteresting chatter until they reached the underground facility.
If it’d been 50m farther, the man’s jaw might’ve been broken.
Unlocking heavy doors, they entered with the warden.
Twenty-seven cadets releasing today from detention. Early semester cartel-like club participants, apparently.
“Hello. NNO here.”
“Ah, come in.”
Documentary on violent cadets—cameras swarmed.
The chatty warden shook hands with the crew for a miraculous fifteen minutes.
Finally.
The delinquent cadet detention release escort began.
Cadets gathered in the auditorium. Opening the doors unleashed pandemonium.
“Ugh, so fucking boring, gonna die. When do we get out?!”
“Chill. Supposed to wait till ten anyway.”
“Boomers always such a pain in the ass.”
First time together after solitary cells. Most chatted about detention life.
“Look at that greasy fuck’s face. Running laps on the parade ground. Worm taste salty?”
“How’d you know? Your sis was too.”
“What? You crazy bastard…”
Others picked fights.
Either way, too noisy for the warden’s voice.
“Alright…! Cadets!”
The warden waved awkwardly, smiling.
First up: detention life surveys.
But cadets ignored him. Not just noise—many glanced and dismissed.
Surveys? Whatever. Rumor was release at ten regardless.
“Kids! Uh! Surveys! Gotta fill ’em out?”
Middle-aged man sweating profusely, thrusting surveys at backs.
“What’s he saying…”
“Fucking annoying.”
Cadets muttered, turning away.
“Ugh, those cameras piss me off. They doing mosaic?”
“Duh. What’d you hear yesterday?”
“Slept. Fuck. Why ask?”
“Heh.”
Warden waved surveys frantically, ignored.
Up to then, Yoo Ji-tae thought nothing. Hadn’t even entered the auditorium. Stood behind cameras, scanning underground layout along corridors.
In case Yeoreum ended up here someday.
“Kids! Squad leader cadet?! Listen up? Fill surveys to get out sooner!”
Bald head sweating rivers, yet too soft for curses.
His meek shouts lacked force.
“Bullshit. Seniors said ten even if we do.”
“Yeah. Geezer leaking broth.”
“Eww. Ultimate cringe.”
Insulted, warden’s face hardened momentarily. Camera-conscious, awkward smile returned.
He repeated approaching and retreating.
“Cadets won’t listen.”
To VJ’s broadcast prompt, awkward laugh.
“Kids, y’know. My fault for being soft.”
“No other wardens?”
“Used to have burly tough ones—they listened. Now pay sucks, TO cut… Anyway, one more try.”
Thrust surveys again. Rejected.
One girl seemed to take it—then dropped the stack, papers scattering.
“Oops. My bad.”
She giggled with friends, walked off.
Cameras cruelly captured the warden. No choice, he bent to pick up sheets one by one.
Nearly twenty minutes of failed persuasion.
“Aigoo. Sorry.”
Closing auditorium doors, apologized to crew.
Glanced at Yoo Ji-tae.
“Sorry, Guardian. I’ll grab snacks and try again soon.”
Yoo Ji-tae’s job: protect warden during escort, ensure no issues.
Nodded indifferently. Snacks or persuasion—three hours to fill.
“Do as you like.”
“Yes. Sorry. If escort goes quick, you’re out fast.”
Warden wiped vast forehead with checkered handkerchief from breast pocket.
Suddenly, Yoo Ji-tae wondered.
“…Time fully counts even if done early?”
“Pardon? Ah, yes. Tired work, so generous timing.”
Ah.
Should’ve said that sooner.
“Wh-What’s wrong?”
Warden backed away as Yoo Ji-tae approached, clueless why. But Yoo Ji-tae’s legs were longer. Snatched surveys and pen bag from his hand. Half crumpled, torn, footprints on them.
Burst open auditorium doors. Cameras followed.
“W-Wait…! Guardian…! No yelling or corporal punishment on cadets…!”
Even this fringe low-rank staff knew who he was now.
But no reply.
Cadets sitting on floor chatting or running around glanced at sudden intruder. Some startled by his build and scowl. Most in detention during Yoo family rumors, so few recognized him.
No beatings, curses, or threats, warden sweating again.
Yoo Ji-tae stood before them.
Gazed at cadets.
Silent. Motionless. Counted numbers, locked eyes on the rowdiest runner, tracking him visually.
No killing intent. Just watched.
Something strange began.
“……!”
Someone met Yoo Ji-tae’s eyes, startled. Gazes spread contagiously. Others turned to see why, chain reaction.
As some looked back, running cadet noticed, slowed, stopped dead.
Silence rippled. Slow ones laughing late shut up at sudden quiet. All eyes on one spot.
Who’s that? Why’s everyone like this? Same questions, no one dared speak.
Yoo Ji-tae spoke.
“Front one.”
Dry voice echoed quietly in the auditorium.
One looking around yelped in reply.
“Pardon? Me?”
“Come.”
Cadet eyed surroundings, approached shaking visibly.
Yoo Ji-tae handed him surveys and pen bag.
Pulled pocket watch, checked time, said.
“Three minutes.”