Chapter 147: Why Is There a Thug at the Academy? (2)
Chapter 147: Why Is There a Thug at the Academy? (2)
“That was moving.”
“So that’s an Aura Blade. It’s my first time seeing one in person.”
“Someday, I’ll also…”
The first-year students were all buzzing with excitement.
The promotional effect of the Aura Blade was certainly immense. No one seemed to care anymore about how strange and rushed the entrance ceremony had been.
The freshmen were then guided to their dormitories. Before they could enter, several upperclassmen approached them.
“We have something to distribute to you all now. These are essential items for survival at the academy, so make sure every single one of you receives a copy.”
What the seniors handed out were small booklets, smaller than the palm of a hand.
On the covers of these books…
Mad Dog Handling Manual.
Mad Dog Survival Guide.
The freshmen stared at the booklets with blank expressions. One of them, unable to contain his curiosity, spoke up.
“Senior, what on earth is this?”
One of the upperclassmen replied, “Someday—no, very soon—you’ll find out.”
“…”
“For now, just focus on memorizing it as quickly as possible. And once you’ve memorized it all, make sure to burn it.”
“…”
The freshmen couldn’t understand it. However, the look in the seniors' eyes was so deadly serious that every single freshman took a copy without exception.
* * *
“Twenty-seventh: Being told to apologize when you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Twenty-eighth: Talking too much before a fight.”
“Twenty-ninth… What the hell is this?”
Jillian Betori sighed as he closed the booklet. He couldn’t understand why they were being told to memorize this.
He wondered if it was some kind of code, but it didn’t seem like it. Furthermore, the blank spaces scattered throughout were marked as (Unconfirmed), followed by a note saying Please report if discovered.
He had no idea what this was or why the seniors wanted them to memorize it.
“Is it a code symbolizing something?”
He was memorizing it diligently since he was told to, but it left a bad taste in his mouth.
It was then.
Knock, knock.
Someone knocked on Jillian’s dormitory door.
“Who is it?”
When no answer came, Jillian frowned and opened the door himself. And standing there…
“Hey, don’t we have something to settle?”
The other freshmen Jillian had clashed with earlier were gathered there.
“You persistent bastards. Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?”
Jillian smirked as he spoke, causing the group to bristle. Among them, Yurian, who was wearing a bandage on his face from a previous blow, spoke menacingly.
“Come out. You wouldn’t want to cause a scene in the dorms, would you?”
“Fine. I’ll take you on anytime.”
Jillian grabbed his sword and followed them.
* * *
Jillian was confident.
Even though there were five of them, his previous encounter had shown him that none of them were stronger than him. That was why he hadn’t hesitated to follow them when they called him out. However…
“Ugh…”
He hadn’t anticipated this situation.
Jillian was currently standing with over ten wounds across his body, breathing heavily. His uniform was stained red from the sheer number of cuts.
And the one who had reduced Jillian to this state wasn’t Yurian or his cronies.
The opponent was…
“You’re quite good for your age. But you still have a long way to go.”
A man in a butler’s suit was stroking his mustache with one hand while holding a longsword in the other. This man was Yurian’s opponent. This butler, who had entered as Yurian’s personal attendant, was the one fighting Jillian.
Against this man, who was estimated to be at least a 4-Star expert, Jillian, a 2-Star, was struggling desperately.
“Hahaha. As expected of Servey.”
“Impressive, isn’t he? He’s just playing with him.”
“Isn’t it just because the opponent is a total amateur?”
“Look at him struggle. What a pathetic sight.”
Yurian and his gang were snickering as they watched Jillian get beaten.
Cowardly bastards…
Jillian glared at his opponent and spat out, “With that kind of skill, you’re cleaning up after trash like them? Aren’t you ashamed?”
“Ho ho ho. If one receives payment, one must earn their keep, shouldn’t they?”
“You piece of trash!”
Jillian roared and lunged at him. Despite his wild shout, the swordsmanship he employed was a clean, well-ordered orthodox style.
The butler, Servey, smirked as he moved his blade.
“Hmm… still green.”
He parried Jillian’s desperate attacks without even moving from his spot. Their swords clashed fiercely in the air, but Jillian’s blade could not pierce the man’s defense. Rather…
“Your knees are weak.”
“Gah…!”
“You should mind your left shoulder.”
“Damn it…”
With sharp counterattacks flying in from all angles, the wounds on Jillian’s body continued to multiply. Seeing Jillian continue to charge despite the odds, the man spoke.
“It’s time to end this. Farewell.”
For the first time, he stepped forward, closing the distance. Jillian hurriedly tried to pull back his sword into a defensive stance, but before he could, the opponent’s blade moved in a blur, slashing five different spots on his body simultaneously.
“Argh…!”
The strength drained from Jillian’s body, and he collapsed to the ground. The man looked down at him and spoke arrogantly.
“If you try to force yourself up, your tendons might snap. If you wish to continue your life as a swordsman, I suggest you stop here.”
“Grrr…”
Jillian lay on the ground, glaring at the man with eyes full of resentment. Once Jillian was completely neutralized, the trash who had been watching from behind stepped forward.
“Well done, Servey. You certainly live up to your reputation as a former 4-Star mercenary.”
“I am grateful for your undeserved praise, Young Master.”
“Right. I’ll be sure to tell my father about today. Now then…”
Crunch!
“Agh…!”
Yurian stepped on Jillian’s back. He looked down at the groaning boy and spoke.
“Shall we begin the education?”
He grabbed Jillian by the hair and yanked his head up.
“Do you get it now? Do you see what happens when an insect like you dares to resist a real noble like me? Huh?”
“…You…”
“Hmm? What was that?”
“…I… you…”
At the faint, dying voice, Yurian leaned his ear closer to Jillian’s lips. Then…
Ptui!
“Gah!”
Jillian spat directly in Yurian’s face without hesitation. Yurian’s expression crumpled in rage as he wiped the spit away.
Jillian wore a mocking smirk. “I said eat shit, you retard.”
“You little bastard, how dare you!”
Yurian began to stomp on Jillian violently. Yet, even as he was being beaten, the light in Jillian’s eyes didn’t fade. Instead, he glared back with even more venom.
“Just you wait. This isn’t the end. I’ll pay you all back tenfold for what you did today, so look forward to it.”
Seeing those eyes full of malice, the corners of Yurian’s mouth curled up.
“Oh, really? Well, we can’t have that. I suppose I should nip this in the bud right now. Servey.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Yurian gave the order to the butler standing behind him.
“Cut the tendons in this bastard’s arms and legs. All of them.”
“Young Master, if I do that, things will get complicated.”
“It’s fine. Even if we bury a guy like this whole, my family can handle it.”
“It will be difficult within the academy.”
“I said it’s fine!”
Servey frowned. This sheltered brat might not know, but there was no way it would be "fine."
The academy’s discipline was famously strict, and the standing of the Knight Department, which had recently seen a surge in prestige, was not something Yurian’s family could brush aside. To put it bluntly, if someone like Professor Late, the head professor of the Knight Department, stepped in, Yurian’s entire family could be held accountable. However…
Well, it’s not my problem, is it?
He was playing the part of a butler now, but he was a mercenary at heart. As long as he got paid, he didn’t care what happened to Yurian’s family.
“As it turns out, you’re just unlucky.”
He toyed with his mustache and drew the longsword from his waist. He approached the pale Jillian and said, “If you’re lucky, you might still be able to hold a fork and knife with your own hands.”
“Damn it…”
Jillian tried to find a way out of this crisis, but there was no escape in sight. Was his future going to be ruined not even a day after entering the academy? And because of trash like this?
Tears of frustration threatened to fall.
But then…
“What’s this? Why are there people here?”
A voice rang out. Jillian looked toward the source with a sliver of hope, and there he saw…
“This is my private spot for drinking. Why the hell are you guys making such a racket? Huh?”
A drunken thug was standing there.
Why is there a thug at the academy?
Why is there a thug at the academy?
Everyone had the same thought. And it was only natural.
The man staggering toward them with a bottle of liquor in one hand looked like a drunken thug no matter how you sliced it. The only confusing part was why this thug was wearing the Knight Department uniform—and why his badge color indicated he was a fourth-year.
It made no sense.
The thug sauntered over and spoke. “Looking at the badge color, you’re first-years.”
He gave his juniors a quick glance, let out a long yawn, and spoke with total disinterest.
“This is where I drink, so go play somewhere else.”
“Wh… what?”
“Shoo, shoo. Get lost.”
The thug’s gesture, waving them away like annoying street peddlers, was enough to provoke anyone.
Yurian stepped forward. “Senior, I’m sorry, but we’d prefer it if you were the one to get lost.”
“…Me?”
The thug pointed a finger at himself. As he wore an expression that said, Did you just tell me to get lost?, Yurian smirked.
“Yes. You’re technically a senior, so wouldn’t it be better to leave gracefully while we’re still showing you some respect?”
Yurian’s cronies chuckled and chimed in.
“He’s right.”
“If you don’t back off now, your dignity as a senior is going to be shattered.”
“The academy’s standards have really dropped. How did a guy like that even make it to the fourth year?”
“Pfft. Probably got in through connections.”
To the first-years, the thug before them was clearly a loser who had failed in the academy’s fierce competition. Naturally, they felt neither respect nor fear. Compared to them, who were destined for elite paths, a piece of trash like him was nothing—
WHACK!
In that instant, one of the snickering boys was struck in the head with the liquor bottle and collapsed to the ground.
The man took another swig from the bottle and spoke.
“Where do these punks get off being so rude? A junior acting like a brat is the sixty-second thing I hate most. Got it?”
Wait. Why did that phrase sound so familiar?