The Academy's Second Semester (2)

"Employer. Ordinary people don't care what someone does — no matter what they pull — as long as that person poses no threat to them whatsoever."

It wasn't a difficult concept. Even among the same species, a hierarchy of stature exists.

Among humans, some are worshipped like gods, while others — just as human — are treated like insects.

Try imagining someone you consider a bug squirming desperately at your feet, clawing its way upward. Who would ever feel threatened by that?

No matter how frantically it wriggles, a bug is still a bug. People would only watch the spectacle and let out an amused laugh.

"And until now, Employer, that's exactly how people have treated you."

Lucy, as a person, had spent her entire life being treated like an insect by everyone around her.

A bug destined to be crushed underfoot the moment Benedict — the monster lurking behind her — vanished from the picture, that is.

Look at the hostility and contempt saturating high society. In those circles, Lucy hadn't been considered a person at all.

"Not anymore, though."

But everything changed the moment she enrolled at the Academy.

Admission with overwhelming, unprecedented scores.

Victory over Frey, who stood among the highest tiers of divine talent on the continent.

Claiming first place in the midterm exams, as if to prove her entrance results were no fluke.

And for the first time in Academy history, seizing the position of first-clearer the moment she set foot inside.

Beyond all that, I had carved countless other achievements into the Academy's halls.

And it wasn't just achievements. My social standing had grown to a level incomparable to my past life, too.

Joy, daughter of House Patran. The Third Prince, distanced from the line of succession perhaps, but undeniably of royal blood.

Frey, the darling prodigy born of House Kent, a family renowned for the sword.

And Phoebe, the living symbol of the Church of the Chief God, a figure so celebrated that even a king could not treat her carelessly.

Their number might not have been great, but the weight of those connections was something an ordinary person couldn't even begin to imagine.

Gripping both talent and connections in her hands, I had become a presence far too massive to be dismissed as a mere bug anymore.

"Congratulations, Employer. You've become someone no one ignores — and no one can ignore anymore."

The only reason people could laugh at a bug's struggles, after all, was their conviction that the bug could never threaten them.

But if that bug swelled so enormous that it could threaten a human life, people would never again watch it with a smile.

"So be careful, Employer. From now on, the people who hate you will define you as an enemy — and send genuine, deliberate hostility your way."

I'd gone on at length, but boiled down to its essence, it was this:

My reputation had risen, and so the number of people who regarded me as an enemy had grown along with it.

It wasn't that the shitty Chief God had done a bad job. It was precisely because the shitty Chief God had done his job too well that this mess had happened.

Unfair! Why do I have to experience my rising reputation like THIS?! Is there no way to feel it in a GOOD way?!

Can't I get to hear something like Sugee! Yappari Lucy-sama da! like in any normal isekai story?!

I was screaming internally when Karia suddenly burst out laughing.

The woman could read other people's emotions as if she had mind reading. She must have caught the bewilderment I was feeling.

"One last thing, Employer. Be grateful for your own luck. The people you've shown kindness to are far more capable than you could ever imagine."

With those words, Karia handed me yet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠another notebook.

What now? The one she'd just given me had the weaknesses of several bishops written in it, so if I assumed this was something similar...

My guess had been right on the money. The pages were filled with information on the households most likely to become my enemies going forward.

"The position and connections you hold now are considerable, Employer. Which is why most people wouldn't dare openly antagonize you."

"To put it another way — only someone who could face that head-on, or someone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠prepared to try, would actively move to threaten you."

"The factions backing the First Prince for the throne. Those wary of House Aln's revival. Those who frown at the things you pulled in the past."

"Every single person you need to watch out for from here on — it's all compiled in there."

The only difference from before, however, was that this notebook's contents weren't as detailed as the last one.

It only recorded the households and their members. No weaknesses, no dirt — nothing like the incriminating details crammed into the notebook I'd received moments ago.

When I asked about it, puzzled, Karia gave a wry smile.

"Same reason as before. Didn't have time to dig. Sorry — useless old lady that I am. If anyone actually turns out to be a threat, I'll fill in the gaps then."

More than understandable.

It was the Patran Festival that had first put me in the spotlight. If Karia had only started looking into me in earnest after hearing about what I'd pulled, while she was already knee-deep in her Church investigation, there was only so much she could have uncovered in the time available.

<She's lying.>

But Gramps flatly declared Karia's words to be false.

<That woman was once called the Shadow of the Kingdom, no? She worked in the shadows as the King's own agent. The minor nobility, fine — but there's no way she wouldn't know about powerful houses like a duchy.>

'...Huh. That's actually true?'

Now that he mentioned it, it made sense. She'd served as the King's intelligence source — how could she possibly not know the kingdom's own nobility?

In a way, knowing the factions within your own kingdom should matter even more than knowing the intelligence of enemy nations.

I tilted my head, wondering why she would lie about it, but no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠answer came. I'd never been any good at this kind of guessing.

'Then why do you think she lied?'

<Who knows. I can't read minds like a certain someone.>

So I asked someone skilled at this sort of thing, but even Gramps couldn't offer a proper answer. So even Gramps-ephy has his limits, huh.

'Should I just ask her?'

<No need. She wouldn't answer anyway.>

'Huh?'

<Think, girl. About that woman's abilities. She already noticed your question and is pretending not to. Do you really think asking would get you an answer?>

Fair point. This was the same Karia who'd been reading my thoughts without a word being spoken just moments ago. There was no way she didn't know what I was wondering now.

<Besides, she'll tell you eventually if you ask later. Don't fuss over it.>

Prying at an answer I wouldn't get would be pointless anyway, so I followed Gramps's advice and simply told Karia I understood. She smiled at that.

"Thank you for trusting me, Employer."

It didn't take long at all to feel the hostility Karia had warned me about.

The moment I stepped into the classroom after the second semester began, sharp glances came flying at me from every direction.

Not the open, frontal condemnation of before — but a gloomy, insidious, slithering hostility.

Yeah, this semester isn't going to be smooth sailing either. When, oh when, will I get to enjoy a peaceful school life?

If I earned a title on the level of savior of the world, could I become someone everyone looks up to — even with the Mesugaki skill?

Could I? Something tells me even if I smack down the Evil God, the skill's distortion will just conjure up a fresh batch of enemies.

"Hey."

I was mulling that over when someone addressed me. It was Frey.

She wore a perfectly calm expression, as if the hostility all around us weren't even worth noticing.

Back in the day she wouldn't so much as acknowledge me outside of sparring sessions — what brought on this change of heart?

"When this is over, spar with me. I got stronger. I'm winning this time."

Yep, should've known. It was another spar invitation.

Watching Frey — honest to a fault about nothing but her own goals, surroundings be damned — somehow made my worries melt away.

"It's been a while, Lady Aln. Have you been well?"

Not long after, Joy came over to greet me as well.

Joy — daughter of the great Ducal House of Patran, and leader of an entire faction of noble young ladies at that.

The fact that she'd greeted me with a warm smile was more than enough to draw the venomous glares of countless other young ladies.

I could feel the classroom's hostility sharpening even further than before. But hey, this much is nothing.

Earning people's hatred was old news for me. Besides, the fact that Joy was happy to greet me made me happy, so no problem at all!

I was thinking exactly that when yet another person approached me. Phoebe, wearing a smile that could purify even an Evil God, came to offer her greeting.

"It's good to see you again, Lady Aln."

Phoebe, the living symbol of the Church of the Chief God, was a bona fide idol. The fact that she'd greeted me first was more than enough to earn the jealousy of a small army of people.

I could feel the sheer volume of hostility directed my way climbing even higher.

...It's starting to get a little heavy, honestly. But considering the Saintess herself thinks of me fondly, this much is absolutely nothing! Yeah!

"Lady Aln."

WHO is it NOW?!

Arthur? The other three already walked past, so it'd have to be him!

Don't tell me Arthur saying hi is going to spike the hostility even further?! I mean, he's a prince in name only — miles away from any real power!

If it climbs again after this, even I'm going to find it a bit much, okay?! Please, PLEASE let nothing happen!

The moment I lifted my head with that prayer on my lips, the person waiting for me was not Arthur.

Luka. Academy professor, professional troll — a lunacatic who genuinely believed talent could only bloom when standing at death's door.

"Might I ask you to step outside for a moment?"

His expression was the very picture of a kind, gentle teacher. But I knew better.

I knew exactly what lay beneath it: the logic of a full-blown psychopath.

'No thanks.'

"And why exactly should I listen to a nobody professor like you? Hard pass."

The obvious answer to that was, of course, refusal.

Nothing good ever comes from getting tangled up with this maniac!

Don't get me wrong — I'm confident I could pass whatever assignment this lunatic threw at me.

I even know how to use him to accelerate my own growth!

But the option of exploiting this guy is one where a single mistake can equal DEATH!

If this were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a game with a save-and-load function, maybe I'd consider it!

But this is REALITY! There's no save function! Die once and it's over, period!

Gambling with my life is something I'll save for when that petty, worthless Evil God decides to pull his nonsense!

So no matter what garbage comes out of this troll's mouth, I'm ignoring it! Because I don't want to die!

Betting my neck on something is strictly reserved for the petty Evil God's pointless hate campaigns!

Haah. I'd figured this lunatic would show interest in me eventually, but I didn't expect it to be the instant the second semester started.

Is this all because the shitty Chief God went and pumped up my reputation?

Hey! Shitty Chief God! If you're going to raise my reputation, raise it PROPERLY!

Why is it that my reputation goes up and all I get is the losses?!

Do your job for once!

Is it any wonder people call you the Incompetent Chief God?!

The instant I screamed in frustration inside my own head, a familiar yet ominous chime rang in my ears.

Only then did I remember.

The shitty Chief God had promised to issue quests once the second semester began.