The Author's Blind Spot

The reincarnation-truck driver who'd run over Il-yong in his previous life had been Elysia. No question about it. She'd done it to force him into this world.

There was only one reason Elysia hated X.

Because I turned this world into an apocalyptic novel.

Of course, he'd never imagined Elysia was an actual Creator God. If he'd known, he would have written a happy, peaceful scenario. A regret that had arrived far too late.

The real problem is that Elysia didn't just dump me into this goddamn novel — she's trying to kill me on top of it.

Probability Penalties. Negative-effect titles. Sub-objectives. Even abilities packed to the brim with the intent to screw him over had their limits.

There's clearly some criterion they follow. If there weren't, I'd already be dead.

The problem was those criteria and those limits. He needed to know them.

He reviewed every Probability Penalty, negative title, and sub-objective he'd received so far, hunting for a common thread. The moment he focused on the effects, the pattern jumped out.

There's a certain balance to it.

Negative titles like Screaming Herb and Besieged on All Sides came with conditional modifiers. Ambiguous ones like Swindler and Foie Gras had mildly beneficial effects tacked on. Sub-objectives drew a clean line between success rewards and failure penalties. Probability Penalties scaled with how badly the narrative coherence had been broken.

It's not like they only ever hand out bad things.

Which meant X had to meet the corresponding conditions before any of it could even be applied. And there was a clear, obvious difference between Probability Penalties and negative titles.

If I had to put it into words — Probability Penalties feel like a direct assault. Negative titles and sub-objectives feel like stepping on a landmine.

He'd have to figure out the exact conditions.

Conditions?

Didn't that sound exactly like a game? And when you thought of games, one thing always came to mind.

...A Status Window.

It was a hypothesis — a wild, half-baked one.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

What if the Author has a Status Window too?

He approached it from that premise. If X obtained things from his Status Window, what if Elysia used hers to attack him?

If it's a Status Window, there'd have to be a cost — something like Editing Points. Author Points, maybe.

There was only one way to verify it.

He stared at it, every muscle drawn tight. Everything from this moment forward would change depending on the result. The Setting Editor would faithfully reflect X's intent.

And then the result came.

It's there!

From this, he'd confirmed three things.

I don't know if Elysia is aware of this...

The odds were high that she wasn't. If she knew, she would have drained X's Editing Points when he'd used Setting Editor to block the Rebound backlash.

Elysia has no idea what I'm doing with my Status Window.

The flip side was how Elysia kept tabs on X's condition in the first place.

If we're talking about things that break Probability — compiling a setting bible in the dorms is a Probability violation too.

But he hadn't received a Penalty then. He'd been writing it in the common language, not Korean.

Getting Mana Sensitivity and researching magic on my own is a Probability violation too.

He thought of every other time he'd done something that shattered Probability and still walked away unpunished. The common thread was obvious.

I was alone.

Then he thought about the times he had received Probability Penalties. The entrance ceremony. The infirmary. The lecture hall.

Someone was there.

Were all the characters Elysia's eyes?

Then what about titles?

The circumstances around title acquisition were similar enough. But why were the title effects so weak? What was the difference between a title and a Probability Penalty?

Did titles also require another character to be present?

No. When he'd gotten the Third-Rate Swordsman title, he'd been alone — the only beneficial title among the F-rank ones.

Titles are criteria... meaning they're issued by the Status Window. So they can't be handed out unless they were configured in advance?

That seemed likely. As long as the conditions were met, it shouldn't matter which characters were nearby. Sub-objectives would work the same way.

Named characters... Elysia's eyes...

His gaze drifted to Lola, asleep face-down on the bed. He stroked her hair. She didn't stir. Out cold.

There's only one way to confirm it. I'll have to gamble.

The method of the gamble was the absolute taboo of transmigration stories.

I'll leak the scenario.

He steeled himself. He committed. He exhaled slowly and spoke just loud enough for Lola alone to hear.

"Lola, I'm actually the Creator who made this world. Another Creator dropped me here and made me descend into this body."

The points didn't change. Lola was asleep. He kept going.

"I know this world's future. I know it's going to be destroyed. I know who the Hero Party that reincarnated a hundred years ago are. All five of them reincarnated."

Still no change. He continued.

"I know that Princess Beatrice, the Pope of the Holy Empire, and the Revolutionary Army's commander have already become demons. That they'll summon the Evil God and destroy the Empire. That the Demon King will revive in three years."

The change was...

None.

The gamble had paid off. He was certain.

Not every character is Elysia's eyes.

Of course, if the "eyes" ever learned of X's leak, he'd eat a Probability Penalty for it. So who were those eyes? The common thread among the people nearby whenever he'd been penalized.

The reincarnated Hero Party.

The original novel, Saving This Academy, was written primarily in omniscient author POV. It usually followed the Hero Party's perspective, but would occasionally shift to a villain or a key character when the plot demanded it.

In other words, every character whose name I know is an "eye."

To summarize:

Then there's only one thing I can do.

Before he got expelled from the Academy — the one thing he could still pull off.

Lola woke not long after. The moment she saw that X was conscious, she burst into tears and made a complete scene. It was nothing like a noble young lady — and thanks to that, X felt a little more at ease.

What even is this kid...

He soothed her with a wry smile, and all she had to say was this:

"I heard you're going to be expelled. I can't stop them from kicking you out, but... still! If you get expelled, I'll take you with me as my attendant."

"Well. The thought is appreciated..."

The way she said it so confidently, with her face still puffy from crying, was adorable. He had to wonder if she was really seventeen, given that mental age.

"I'm coming in."

Roxwell stepped through the door mid-conversation. Lola's face darkened the instant she saw him. Roxwell glanced at her, eyes dropping.

"I've got something to discuss with Student X. I'd appreciate it if you cleared out."

"Ah, um... b-but still..."

The way she planted herself there, convinced Roxwell was going to hurt him, was almost admirable. But they had important things to talk about, so X sent her on her way.

"Lady Lola, I'll call for you later."

"...I registered my contact on your Mana Phone, so you have to call me."

Lola looked back at him several times before she finally disappeared. Sure enough, a new contact had been added to the Mana Phone.

I should set a password later...

He turned a serious gaze on Roxwell.

"What is this about?"

"...Your eyes have changed quite a bit."

"You pushed me that hard. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Growth was inevitable, I suppose."

Roxwell's eyes dimmed as he caught the meaning underneath: You're the reason I'm getting expelled. X still didn't know what to make of the man. Trying to get students kicked out of the Academy was more than enough to raise suspicions — which meant Roxwell was likely aligned with the villains. A few things needed confirming, immediately.

"Why are you trying to get students expelled?"

"Can't stand the kids. That a good enough reason?"

"Then you never should have become an Academy professor."

"They pay well. You suck it up even if you hate it."

"And you're involved with something that requires that kind of 'money'?"

"..."

Their positions had reversed from the first day. X had heard from Lola that the intensive treatment he was receiving now was thanks to the princess's favor — which meant he was currently under her protection.

"Tch."

Roxwell had reached the same conclusion. He knew he couldn't draw a blade here. Now he was the one who had to explain himself.

"You don't need to know. Right?"

"Then why come see me at all? To gloat?"

"Yeah. Came to see what you look like before they kick you out. Go on, get angry. I'll rest easier that way."

"Who's supposed to rest easier? Me? Or you, Professor?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Two suspicions sat in X's mind. The first was that Roxwell belonged to this world's core villain race — demons. Demons were operating in secret across the Empire, sacrificing humans for their own ends. They walked the world possessing human bodies, but there was a clear way to tell them apart.

Expose them to holy power.

Demons and their kin took damage from the light of holy power. A human with a demon inside them could be identified the moment that light touched them. Filtering demons out of the Academy — one of the Empire's central, most critical institutions — should have been trivially easy. Under ordinary circumstances, the idea that a demon had infiltrated it was hard to take seriously.

But that method's already been cracked.

An artifact of the demons' own making had rendered the test meaningless, which was why they were currently burrowed into every corner of the Empire, working in the dark. The secret hadn't been exposed yet at this point in the timeline — but of course X already knew it.

"Professor. Would you remove the glove on your right hand?"

Roxwell's right hand, which X had never managed to check. The clue that would expose the secret was inside that glove. Roxwell, grasping the intent behind the request, let his displeasure show. Being openly suspected would do that.

"That's a hell of a request to come out of nowhere. What's it supposed to mean?"

"I just want to see your hand. Is that not allowed either?"

Even the demons didn't believe humans knew that secret yet. It was under tight control. If Roxwell refused to show it here...

I die.

X waited for the answer, Mana Phone clenched where Roxwell couldn't see it, the number for Imperial Intelligence already entered. The moment he hit call, agents would storm in within a minute.

Demon, or human.

If Roxwell couldn't answer, they both died. X in Roxwell's hands. Roxwell in the Empire's.

"...Hah."

The man of unknown identity let out a long breath.

"If you want to look, look all you want."

Roxwell pulled the glove off his right hand and held it out. A martial artist's hand, thick with calluses. And on that hand, the artifact X had been looking for was nowhere to be found.

"...Looking at your hands, you're definitely a martial artist."

Fortunately, Roxwell was not a demon. The reason was simple: there was no artifact on his right hand. That artifact had to take the form of a gold ring, and it had to sit on the right index finger. Without it, calling him a demon was a stretch.

You couldn't get into the Academy without one. If he'd been stupid enough to try, he'd have been caught and purified a long time ago.

He could finally breathe. Nobody had to die.

Roxwell made no secret of how much he disliked being suspected.

"What the hell are you playing at, Screaming Herb."

"You suspected me too, Professor. I just wanted to confirm you were actually a martial artist."

"You're even more of a lunatic than I imagined."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

If he wasn't a demon, then the question was whether he was a spy.

Genuine evil, or a villainous act...

That was harder to know. It wasn't as if he had a lie-detection ability. All he could do was keep asking.

"Why were you so desperate to get me expelled?"

"I already told you. Can't stand the kids..."

"You know how little sense that makes, don't you?"

"...I've got no reason to tell you anything."

As expected, it wasn't going to be easy. Fine. Time to throw a bomb.

"Is this an order from the Red Flag, by any chance?"

Is he with the Revolutionary Army?

"...You!"

In a single motion, Roxwell seized X by the collar. His face twisted into something ugly. A pressure intense enough to punch straight through title effects came crashing down.

"How the hell do you know that...?!"

"Ghk, ghk... I was a war orphan too...!"

"Are you with the Revolutionary Army too?! Answer me!!"

A reaction as violent as expected. That settled it. Roxwell was with the Revolutionary Army. All that remained was to determine whether it was his true nature or a performance. X threw the next gamble without hesitation.

"Getting students expelled — is that an order from above?"

"You little son of a bitch...!"

"Did your superiors mark me as a 'sacrificial lamb'?"

"You... just how much do you..."

One last push. X grabbed the man's collar with his free hand.

"Tell me — does this amuse you that much?! Driving innocent kids into hell?!"

"...Hell?"

"You already figured out what happens to those student 'sacrificial lambs,' didn't you? Most of them die in accidents. Go missing. If they're lucky, they get sold as slaves. But did ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you know?"

He drew a breath and stared straight into Roxwell's shaking eyes.

"Those Revolutionary Army executives of yours — they can preach about justice and a greater cause all they want. They're lining their pockets with the wealth and honor they get from selling children."

"I... I..."

Roxwell's pupils shuddered violently.

The Red Flag Revolutionary Army — a key organization in the Empire's fragmentation scenario. They wore the mask of justice for the citizens and the common people, but their leadership had already fallen under demonic control. That was why they were destined for collapse and ruin. Buried in their setting was this: as a funding pipeline, they took orders from nobles and quietly disposed of Academy students.

So he pressed that nerve.

"Are you one of those people too?"

"..."

The Mana Phone was still on standby. If this went south, he'd call Imperial Intelligence. But there was no longer any need.

"...Is it true. What you just said."

Roxwell let go, as if the strength had gone out of him.

"It's the truth."

"...I can't believe it."

Roxwell sank onto the edge of the bed. His shoulders looked heavy. He covered his face with both hands, and a sound like a small lament slipped out of him.

"I... I was only acting for the cause..."

That was all X needed. He put the Mana Phone away. No reason to keep it out.

So he was playing the villain.

He'd been trying to get students to withdraw or get expelled so they wouldn't be disposed of. He'd grown sick of the work — that had to be the background. He just hadn't known what "disposal" actually meant.

That's something only the executives who've already become demons would know.

In reality, those students had become sacrificial lambs for demonic rituals. But Roxwell's back already looked too small to bear being told that.

One last confirmation.

A commoner like X had just freely exposed the dark underside of a clandestine organization like the Revolutionary Army. A development that made no sense. A clean, unambiguous collapse of Probability. And yet—

It hadn't changed. No Probability Penalty appeared. No title. Nothing at all.

The gamble had paid off beautifully. Proof that Elysia could only see this world through specific characters' viewpoints.

I've prepared characters of my own, too.

All that remained was the counterattack.