Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: The Original Disruptor Makes His Appearance (6)
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I’ll give credit where it’s due.
Leonard’s reputation was completely fucked.
To the point where anyone he ran into at the academy would grimace on sight.
The faculty were at least a bit better about it. You could vaguely sense their effort to treat all students equally, without discrimination.
And since lately he’d been sitting there like a lump during class, not causing any trouble, that alone had earned him some points for good behavior.
The problem was the other students.
Every single one he passed reacted with utter disdain.
The second-years didn’t seem to care much, and the third-years were too busy with job hunting to even glance his way.
But his stomping grounds were filled with fellow first-year newbies anyway.
So the waves of scorn and disgust raining down on him had become all too familiar.
But that was that.
"……."
And this? This was too much.
The moment something cold splattered on his head, his thoughts ground to a halt.
As he wondered what the hell had just happened, a thick white liquid started dripping down his chin. The sweet smell of milk.
"Ah……."
Charlotte, who’d gotten doused right alongside him, let out a dazed noise.
Her blank expression stared off into space, as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened to her.
But her fists were clenched so tight the veins were bulging.
Once he saw that, it was inevitable that his own self-control started fraying at the edges.
If it had just been him, fine. But Charlotte? She was way too innocent for this shit.
The thought that she’d gotten caught in the crossfire because of him made a fire boil up inside.
"……Hah, hahaha."
A hollow laugh escaped his lips.
‘These little fuckers…….’
His opponents were goddamn…… no, just eighteen-year-old kids.
Counting his past life, they looked like total greenhorns to him.
Brats whose blood wasn’t even dry on their knuckles.
But that didn’t make it excusable.
No matter how young they seemed, eighteen was old enough to know better.
If they’d lived that long and still couldn’t tell right from wrong, they needed fixing.
And that fixing had to come at someone’s hands.
Specifically, his—ex-Dobong-gu Dark Knight, wielder of the Bloodletter bat, and current Kingswell Royal Academy’s top shit-stirrer, Leonard Percival Blackmere.
‘Brings back the old fire.’
Memories from his Dobong-gu Bloodletter bat days flooded back vividly.
Memories of the Dark Knight of Dobong-gu, apostle of justice who smashed delinquent punks.
Right now.
They raced down his spine like electricity, awakening every muscle.
He instinctively locked eyes with Charlotte.
She turned to him at the exact same moment.
They exchanged a silent look for a beat.
Then, without a word, they both started striding forward in sync.
"W-Wait a second! You two!"
Celestina came panting after them, but it was already too late.
Drag!
"Hm? Who……."
In perfect unison, he and Charlotte headed straight for the office of Basic Swordsmanship Professor William.
He flung the door open without knocking. The startled professor jumped up and hid his cute little sword behind his back.
‘Check out that taste.’
But that wasn’t his business.
He gave Professor William a quick bow, then marched right into the office.
"Wh-What is this?! Cadet Blackmere! Cadet Taylor!"
He ignored the professor’s flushed outburst.
Soon enough, he spotted it in the corner: a long, hefty object neatly stored away.
‘Found it.’
This wasn’t some modern or medieval era—it was a proto-fantasy world where manners, dignity, and violence all tangled together in a chaotic mess, like Van Gogh’s paintings warped by absinthe.
The age of romance.
And what mindset should educators have in this romantic era?
Human rights?
Respect for students?
Nah.
It was the upright, unyielding resolve to wield violence if necessary to defend their pride as educators.
Just like this beautifully curved, gleaming oak cudgel of Professor William’s.
"You two, get out ri—!"
Professor William, about to yell at them to leave, cut off the second Leonard grabbed the cudgel.
Leonard hefted it expertly and smacked it against his palm.
Thickness: perfect.
Length: perfect.
Strength.
"Top quality, Professor."
He turned to Professor William.
The professor’s eyes were already glazed with romantic visions of violence at the sight of his prized possession.
"You can tell it’s something you agonized over for days, competing with the other professors up on the academy’s back mountain."
"That child…… you, a mere freshman, recognize its true value?"
"You don’t find a perfect cudgel like this just anywhere."
Professor William’s eyes shook like there was an earthquake as he stared.
Leonard met his gaze with firm resolve.
"Professor."
"……."
"Unfortunately, justice in Kingswell is being trampled right now."
The professor’s eyes finally took in Leonard and Charlotte properly—drenched in milk, a total mess.
And to top it off, the empty milk carton still perched on Charlotte’s head.
……Why the hell was it still there?
"Ahem……."
Anyway, Professor William alternated glances between them for a moment.
Then he covered his eyes with a trembling hand and let out a deep sigh.
"……Cadet Leonard Percival Blackmere."
"Yes, Professor William."
"Go. In the name of Kingswell Royal Academy, enforce justice."
The best response Leonard could give was to swing the cudgel through the air.
Whoosh!
A perfect arc, smacking an imaginary ass with textbook precision.
A swing no one could pull off without years of practice, drawn like it was measured with a protractor.
That said it all, so neither he nor the professor said a word. They just locked eyes and nodded.
Step, step.
With the mindset of a soldier heading into battle.
Gripping the cudgel, he left the office and marched off.
"W-Wait! Brother Blackmere! You can’t solve this with violence!"
"Violence solves everything."
Some redhead came to mind.
Come to think of it, Amelia Hill was a redhead too, wasn’t she?
"What kind of nonsense is that?!"
"Shut up."
Ignoring Celestina’s yammering from the side, he dragged the cudgel along the hallway toward the classroom.
The ominous scraping drew students’ eyes naturally, only for them to scatter instinctively at the sight of the oak cudgel.
"Gasp……!"
"Shit. What’s that Blackmere punk holding?!"
"Th-That’s…… one of Kingswell’s three legendary demon swords—Professor William’s Bloodletter?!"
Cutting through all those stares, Leonard and Charlotte kicked the classroom door open with authority.
Bang!
The smug asshole who’d been grinning and approaching him.
And the immature punks snickering behind.
Gripping the cudgel that instinctively terrified them all, Leonard briefly channeled Leonard’s ego.
As if it had been waiting, Leonard’s ego resonated with him.
The pent-up urges for disruption, tough love, and arrogant fury.
Ah.
"Looks like you forgot who I am."
Welcome back, Leonard.
Time to troll again.
Amelia Hill thought.
Smack! Thwack!
"Eek! Urk!"
"Ass back in position."
This was happening.
"Push back and it’ll hurt more."
"Sob……! M-Mommmy!!"
"You little shit…… ASS BACK IN POSITIONNNNNN!!!!!!!"
‘What the hell is going on……?’
Gideon’s gang couldn’t even resist, bending over like they were hypnotized by Leonard’s cudgel.
Every perfect parabolic swing of the oak cudgel sent their inevitably fatty asses jiggling and spasming upward.
Spines leaping, toes desperately clenched, mouths spewing teary screams.
It wasn’t an incredibly rare sight at the academy.
Kingswell Royal Academy demanded a certain level of dignity as a top-tier institution.
And in the Swordsmanship Department—half-military, calling students ‘cadets’ and drilling discipline from day one—it was even more common.
Professors pulling out that demon sword on incorrigible students wasn’t everyday stuff, but it happened.
But that was when professors swung it.
This was something else entirely.
Thwack! Smack!
"Next. Bend over."
"Hic……! B-Blackmere……! I-I didn’t want to! They forced me……!"
"BEND OVERRRR!!! NOWWWW!!!!!!!!!"
"KyaAAAAAHHH!!!"
"This ain’t working, Instructor Charlotte."
"Yeah. Leave it to me."
Gideon and his crew taking bat swings from Leonard and Charlotte?
It was like some fever dream from when she was bedridden with illness.
Amelia pinched her cheek without thinking.
It hurt. For real.
This was reality.
"……N-No! Stop it!"
Finally, after the eight victims of tough love were rolling on the floor, Amelia shot to her feet.
She strode toward Leonard, face full of fury.
‘They were just pranking a bit……!’
But a student dishing out corporal punishment? That crossed the line, no matter how you sliced it.
The closer she got to Leonard, the more she realized her steps were slowing.
‘Wh-Why?!’
Amelia didn’t realize it herself.
But in Leonard’s hand was Professor William’s Bloodletter, one of the academy’s three legendary demon swords.
Across countless regressions, she’d never gone without taking at least one swing from it.
She knew its brutality all too well.
That brief, intense memory was etched into her body, persisting through five regressions.
She stopped about five paces from him. Leonard turned, resting the oak cudgel on his shoulder.
"Something wrong? Amelia Hill."
"……No, I."
"Got something to say?"
"S-Stop it."
But in the end, she was the hero.
Her courage pierced the fear, squeezing out those words—and Leonard’s movements halted.
"B-Brother Blackmere! Stop! Even for you, this is too much……!"
Celestina, horrified by the Swordsmanship Department’s barbaric violence, belatedly rushed in and grabbed Leonard’s arm to stop him.
With Amelia charging in and clutching the arm holding the cudgel, Leonard obligingly backed off from Gideon’s gang.
"Why would you do something like this……!"
"Why?"
Leonard tapped the floor with the cudgel as he replied.
"Someone has to. And if it’s something people avoid…… then it’s on me to step up and fix it."
"……."
"Because I’m a Blackmere."
Because I’m a Blackmere.
That absurd answer made her flinch for a split second.
And in that moment, a faint sadness flickered in Leonard’s eyes.
Why?
"Well, then."
"Wait! Brother Blackmere! Stop!!"
Even after Leonard, Charlotte, and Celestina left the classroom.
Amelia stood frozen amid Gideon’s gang’s sobs, like a statue.