Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Instructor Corps Assault
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"We should get approval within half a year at the latest and get the factories running. In a year, we could dominate the market, right?"
"It's best not to be too optimistic. We have to consider side effects too. How about extending the testing period?"
No matter how much we verify it, this is a product derived from researching aliens.
I couldn't let my guard down about potential side effects, so I tossed out the suggestion lightly.
"If you say so, bro, fine. A year it is, then?"
He accepted it too easily.
From Monarch's perspective, this could be a seriously grave matter depending on the circumstances.
And yet Napahel doubled the real-world testing period on his own authority without any review.
'He has more influence in the family than I thought.'
Given Napahel's current scope of operations and authority, his status was already practically that of the family head.
At this rate, his succession to the head position was all but guaranteed in short order.
"By the way, how'd it go?"
"How'd what go?"
"You swooped in like a savior and rescued all your parents' relatives from danger. Anything happen with that daughter? If it were me, I'd have already..."
"Don't get any weird ideas. Nothing happened."
I had met once with Cheryl Herb, a second-year cadet.
Her family seemed pretty close-knit. Even though I'd gotten word two days ago that they were safe, she still looked like she couldn't shake off the shock when she showed up.
I barely managed to calm her down after she kept bowing and thanking me nonstop.
The problem was that it happened in a public place, so every cadet found out about it.
That's why I was keeping a low profile now—my face was too well-known, and I hadn't stepped outside the dorm unless absolutely necessary.
"She's getting commissioned in a few days anyway and shipping out to the front lines. No reason to see her again, so I'll pass on any unnecessary entanglements."
"Aw, man, you're more straitlaced than I expected. Our family isn't like that—uh, never mind. Anyway, if you say so."
Napahel sounded a bit flustered as he changed tack mid-sentence.
He knew better than anyone what my background was in the family.
'He's showing more concern than I'd expect.'
I'd picked up on that vibe since our last meeting.
I didn't let it show and just responded.
"I'll handle my own love life, so you stop swinging your dick around recklessly too."
"Whoa, talking like one of us old fogeys. Same lines every time."
"Enough. No more to talk about? I'm hanging up."
"Wait, bro."
Just as I was about to end the call, Napahel jumped in quickly.
"It's been a while since you saw Naviel, right? Wanna meet up?"
"...Naviel? Eh, not really. I'll see her if there's reason to later."
"Oh? Hmm..."
"No other business?"
Naviel was Napahel's twin sister.
In Lemon's memories, she was someone with zero connection to him, just like Napahel.
And for someone as busy as me with other matters, she wasn't anyone I particularly wanted to bother with.
'We'll cross paths someday, I'm sure.'
"What's got you so busy? Who knows when we'd get another comm window like today."
"We can always line it up again if the timing works."
Real-time communication wasn't always possible.
It worked fine within the same planet.
You could manage up to satellite sectors with just a slight time lag.
But interplanetary and interstellar comms only worked when the Drive Gates opened passages between the astral dimension and reality.
That amounted to about 20 minutes a day.
On Terra-level planets, they connected 'lines' periodically for info exchange, so it was a bit more frequent—but even then, only between major planets. For backwater worlds dismissed as rural outposts, it might only happen once every few months.
"You don't even know where the main house is, do you? If I wasn't stopping by New Eden for business, this comm would've been impossible."
New Eden was a highly developed world on par with Terra, serving as the hub of the third defense line.
'The main house...'
The original Monarch family estate was far from here.
It was in a system with twin planets as rich in resources as Earth, and the entire stellar system containing those twins was owned by the Monarch family under the name 'Monarch System.'
"So what brings you to New Eden?"
After losing the Monarch System to the alien invasion, the family had relocated its base to civilized space behind the defense lines.
"Heard there's some interesting stuff going on here. Figured I'd mix business with it."
"There's nothing in New Eden worth the Monarch family's attention."
"You never know. Might snag a gift for you?"
"Pass."
We traded a few more pointless remarks before I cut the comm.
We weren't close enough to chat idly about everyday nonsense for long.
'Here we go again.'
I stepped out of the dorm.
Today marked the start of first-year classes for second-years.
*
Napahel smirked faintly as the feed cut off before he could end it himself.
How many people in the world could talk to him that casually?
In any case, his half-brother was an entertaining guy.
Then a slightly languid feminine voice came from beside him.
"What was that? You said you'd introduce me."
"Who cares. You can do it yourself next time."
"Ugh."
"Doesn't matter anyway, right? You're me."
The name of the sleek blonde beauty sprawled half-reclined on the sofa was Naviel.
They looked astonishingly alike despite the gender difference.
If she cut her hair, wiped off her makeup, and hid her figure, anyone would buy it if Napahel claimed to be her.
"But he really has changed, huh. That's really the same Leonard we knew?"
"Genetically, yeah... but who knows."
It wasn't just superficial.
Temperament, intellect, physical abilities—all the same.
Even their superhuman abilities matched.
The two were the pinnacle of humanity, born from 300 years of deliberate 'seed refinement' by the Monarch family.
The only miscalculation was that two had been born instead of one—but that was more a blessing than anything.
"Who cares either way?"
Napahel approached the sofa and sat beside Naviel.
She responded naturally as he leaned in for a light kiss.
Their lips soon tangled deeply.
"Haa... yeah."
"Thanks to him, our plans are way ahead of schedule."
"Should I give him a reward?"
Naviel giggled as if tickled by Napahel's touch.
"A reward?"
"Something like this."
Naviel shoved Napahel back onto the sofa and straddled him.
Her hands slowly peeled off his top.
Napahel burst out laughing.
"He'd hate it. We might even have to hide that we're doing this."
"True. He seemed 'conservative.' Wasn't like that before."
"He was never promiscuous, even back then. Wonder if it's his mother's influence."
For a family like Monarch, incest wasn't strange.
Genetic incompatibility or mutations from inbreeding were laughable concerns in this era.
It was even encouraged sometimes to preserve dominant traits.
Like with Napahel and Naviel now.
They'd never been apart since childhood and had never considered anyone else as a partner.
Two people, but one entity.
Sharing and dividing everything had allowed them to shoulder heavy responsibilities at a young age.
"So when do I get to meet him?"
"Next time you can go out pretending to be me."
"Oh, should I? Hehe."
The two placed a bet on whether Lemon would spot the disguise.
"Quit teasing and come here."
"We can take our time cleaning up the bugs, right?"
"Don't say stuff you don't mean. We can take our time with that, sure?"
"Fair enough. Might as well do a thorough job and gift it to him—our half-brother."
"You mean big bro."
Clothes fully shed, the two entwined once more.
A pair of golden butterflies fluttered in from outside and settled on a flowerpot.
*
"Lemon!"
"Hey, Roze."
Roze, whom I hadn't seen in a month, was as cheerful as ever.
Seeing those sparkling eyes made it really hit home that I was back at the academy.
"You cut your hair?"
"Yeah, it was getting inconvenient."
Her long hair, which had reached her waist, was now trimmed to shoulder length.
Nothing else seemed different.
'No, wait.'
Something had changed.
Not appearance—her aura, maybe.
Deeper, more serene somehow.
"We'll be late for class!"
"Oh, right. Let's go."
The first second-year class was a brand-new course.
It was mandatory, divided into ten sections total—and luckily, Roze and I were in the same one.
'Practical Hand-to-Hand Combat...'
The name alone screamed hand-to-hand fighting.
But it felt off somehow.
Hand-to-Hand Combat was already a required liberal arts course.
Physical types took it to hone their own skills, and ability users had to master basics regardless.
'Something smells dangerous.'
Were they bringing in some renowned hand-to-hand grandmaster?
Even so, tagging it 'practical' felt awkward.
It was clearly going to run differently from standard hand-to-hand lectures.
'The curriculum's changing big time.'
Even the courses second-years usually took had shifted a lot since our cohort arrived.
Whatever it was, it didn't look ordinary.
My hunch became reality the moment we entered the classroom.
"Instructor Corps?"
"That's the Instructor Corps, right?"
"Look at those Armor Suits. Those are Instructor Corps exclusives."
The cadets who arrived first were whispering about the four people on the podium.
'Wearing Armor Suits?'
Not all four were suited up.
The one out front wore a school uniform with a black belt.
Since the Instructor Corps consisted solely of black-belt-or-higher masters certified by each hand-to-hand school, this had to be one of them.
"But why are Instructor Corps here instead of the front lines?"
"Maybe on break? Like those special guest instructors."
"You think?"
"But that emblem on the uniform... Isn't that the vice leader? I heard the vice leader and leader don't do outside gigs."
Instructor Corps.
An elite group of hand-to-hand masters who had perfected—or come extremely close to perfecting—their school's ideals. Combat specialists who threw themselves into the war against aliens for real 'practical' experience.
Their status ranked just below the Superhuman Units, and they racked up massive contributions to humanity's survival every time.
You could guess how impressive the vice leader—one of their core members—must be.
Stepping up as instructor were that vice leader and three other equally formidable Instructor Corps hand-to-hand experts.
The experts wore the Corps' signature uniform: slightly bulky, belt-cinched robes styled as full-body Armor Suits.
Those Armor Suits were special too.
Custom-made 'bio-armor' to amplify physical performance while preserving sensation.
They even had low-grade energy cores embedded inside for strong defenses against alien area attacks.
"Attention."
Class time hit, and the vice leader spoke.
His low voice carried crystal-clear to every ear.
One of the advanced hand-to-hand techniques—and his mastery was blatantly elite.
"I'll say this once and only once."
The vice leader laid out the objective in no uncertain terms.
"This is live combat. My assistants and I will attack you during class. No mercy."
It was like a declaration of war.
The weight in his voice dominated the classroom, pressing down on the cadets.
"Survive if you can. Begin."
But before anyone could process the bewilderment, it started.
"Aaagh!"
"W-Wait! This isn't even a sparring room...!"
The so-called assistants—hand-to-hand experts—moved first.
Three nearby cadets were already out cold from merciless punches.
No mercy indeed—their injuries looked serious at a glance.