25. You'll Get Sick If You Eat That
25. You'll Get Sick If You Eat That
The academy, where the empire's precious bloodlines gathered, was under strict security.
With imperial bloodlines occasionally enrolling as well, if it hadn't been safe, the Headmaster's head wouldn't have stayed attached to his neck.
Someone with mediocre skills couldn't even set foot on the academy grounds built atop a remote island.
Someone with mediocre skills, that is.
Without anyone truly knowing, the headcount inside the academy had increased by one.
There were no regular ferries running between the mainland and the academy during the day, yet at some point, he had snuck onto the island.
The one who had dared to infiltrate the academy was the assassin Black Crow, a man who had recently been making a notorious name for himself in the back alleys of the imperial capital...
He possessed a preternatural ability, having accepted the contract in the morning and arriving at the academy before the sun had even reached its zenith.
'Normally... I'd have absolutely no intention of taking on a dangerous request like this...'
He, too, knew how difficult it was to pull off an assassination contract within the academy.
He had refused at first.
The method of contact had been forced, and the terms even more so.
The client was the young lady of Phrygia.
For the Phrygia young lady attending the academy to ask him to erase a single student from the same year, without a trace, within the night... It was a request that reeked of trouble no matter how he looked at it.
To contact him the same day and demand that the target be erased without a trace in a single night—how forced could it be? Even a normal request like that would be forced, but if the location was the academy, it was even more unreasonable.
No matter how much a request from one of the Five Pillars paid, accepting an assassination contract within the academy was far too dangerous.
There was the risk of getting caught in a pointless political struggle and having his head hung out to dry as a scapegoat.
But in the end, he had no choice but to accept the request.
'With your abilities, you can do it, can't you? I'll double your usual rate.'
'Money isn't the issue. My neck...'
'Double that.'
'No matter how much you give...!'
'Double that.'
'Do you think money solves everything?!'
'Double that.'
'Hmm... I'll think about it.'
'If you handle it today, right now, I'll double it again.'
'...I'll begin preparations immediately.'
After thinking it over, it actually seemed like it might be a good idea to give it a try.
He was a latecomer whose recognition had begun to rise sharply a year ago; he needed to build his reputation.
To compete against the established named assassins, he had to accomplish a task they hadn't been able to.
Assassinating an academy student, something every imperial assassin balked at, would be more than sufficient.
'Dealing with just one unacknowledged bastard child that no one knows about will be safe.'
Fortunately, the target was an unknown bastard child... Even if he handled it, there would be no repercussions.
He had absolutely not succumbed to money.
It was all for his own reputation.
As his alias suggested, the assassin Black Crow transformed into a crow, flying through the sky as he surveyed the situation.
He'd ended up deciding on a whim, but infiltrating the academy was an extremely dangerous act.
At the only bridge leading to the island, Headmaster Gordon had hysterically layered multiple defensive magic spells, and they were plastered all over the academy buildings and dormitories as well.
Black Crow was a first-rate assassin.
Infiltrating without being detected by this level of defensive magic was possible, but to erase the target without a trace as requested, he had to precisely capture the moment the target was alone.
.
.
.
.
.
.
While quietly hiding and observing his target, an opportunity arose.
The target had begun entering a forest that was sparsely populated.
It wasn't just any forest; he was entering the deep forest that the academy had declared off-limits to students.
Judging by the gloves and pouch he carried, he was probably planning to gather some medicinal herbs inside.
It was an opportunity that had presented itself quickly.
In that forest, even the disposal of the body could be carried out smoothly.
Upon entering the deep forest, the target began wandering around here and there, gathering medicinal herbs.
The file said he was presumed to be a halfling, and his skill at gathering herbs was top-notch.
He would glance around briefly, then dart over and collect only the most important herbs.
'This job will end even easier than I thought.'
The target was gathering herbs as he ventured deeper and deeper.
The deep forest nurtured precious herbs but was also home to dangerous magical beasts.
He had been lucky so far not to encounter any, but if he went deeper, he'd run into some beasts eventually...
Once he went a bit deeper, he'd handle him cleanly and toss the body to the beasts.
The target spotted another herb and stepped behind a tree.
It was only for a moment, but he vanished from Black Crow's sight.
It was no big deal, something that had happened several times already.
He just had to circle around and resume his surveillance.
Though he wore the form of a bird, Black Crow was not a real bird.
He spread his wings and moved to another tree, shifting to a spot where he could see the target, but the target was nowhere to be seen.
'Where did he disappear to?'
He was slightly flustered.
He checked the ground to see if the target had fallen into a burrow or something, but there was no sign of that either.
He listened closely in case other magical beasts had taken him, but he couldn't detect the presence of any beast of that size nearby.
He had truly vanished into thin air.
'Ridiculous, where on earth...'
"Could he have gone... right here?"
-Ppadeudeuk!
Immediately after, the right wing of the crow he had transformed into was torn off.
"?!!!!!!!!"
"I'll give you bonus points for not screaming. You've got the basics down."
As Black Crow fell from the tree, his transformation broke.
'Where on earth??'
The voice, which he had heard from above, reached his ears even as he fell. Horrifyingly, Black Crow still hadn't seen the owner of that voice.
He had the distinct sensation of his wing being torn off by a hand, but he couldn't feel a presence behind him at all.
He was certain the speaker was at his back, but no matter how he turned his head, the voice only whispered right into his ear.
"Phrygia sent you, right? How much did she give you? Enough to comfortably buy a distant island?"
He already knew the full details of the contract.
Was the whole request just a lie?
Had he been lured into a trap?
He stopped the blood that was gushing from his shoulder, where his right wing—his right arm—had been torn off while he was transformed.
He stopped the bleeding using a secret technique of an assassin, but he still couldn't pinpoint where the voice was coming from.
He didn't know who it was, but Black Crow was certain this person was on a higher level than himself.
The request was a failure.
He had to escape this place as quickly as possible.
"For that kind of money, you figured a job no one else would touch was doable, right?"
-Seogeok!
Black Crow's left leg buckled, and he tumbled heavily over a tree root.
A blade had severed his left leg, leaving nowhere for his foot to land.
Though he rolled miserably on the ground, his windpipe hadn't been cut yet.
Black Crow somehow got to his feet using his one remaining leg.
"That's why bastards like you will never be anything more than second-rate."
Someone stood before him.
The same figure he had been watching all day, and the familiar voice he had just been hearing moments before...
Only then could Black Crow see who had been standing behind him.
"Just as I thought... it was a request... that would make me... sick."
And that was his final memory.
-------------------------------------
The cold air and an unfamiliar sensation caused Shahra Phrygia to open her eyes.
"This place...?"
The trees grew so densely that she couldn't see the sky and couldn't tell whether it was day or night.
Damp fallen leaves, moss, and hard, thick roots... Shahra Phrygia found herself in an unknown forest.
"A... dream?"
She could only think of it as a dream.
Her last memory was definitely falling asleep in her dormitory.
She had been in her room with its heart-calming scented candles, plush bed, and comfortably heated air...
Now, the smell of rotting leaves, hard tree roots, and cold air made it feel as if she were having a nightmare.
"Ahh!"
A sharp pain shot through her foot as she tried to stand.
She must have stepped on a sharp stone, as a cut had opened on her soft sole, and bright red blood seeped out.
"It's... not a dream?"
"You awake?"
She sensed a presence above her head and looked up to see someone perched on a tree branch.
It was dark and hard to see clearly, but she knew who it was from the voice alone.
The insolent bastard who had angered her so much today... It was Atlas Nemea.
"You... kidnapped me?"
"Yeah."
Atlas answered coolly as he landed in front of Phrygia.
Shahra Phrygia was in turmoil.
More than how Atlas had kidnapped her, she was baffled by how he was still alive.
Because the moment she had left the private bar, she had issued the assassination contract on Atlas.
'He guaranteed he could finish it before sundown...!'
He had boasted he'd handle it within the night, so Atlas should already be dead. How could he be alive?
But that question was answered rather easily.
"You know who this is, right?"
Atlas threw what he was holding down in front of Phrygia.
Two pitch-black shoes rolled to a stop before her with a rattling sound.
"Ank...les?"
She thought they were just shoes, but the sound of them hitting the ground was heavy.
Looking closely, she saw they were ankles still wearing their shoes.
"The beasts were hungry, so they nibbled a bit. Should've fished out a more intact part, but this was all I could manage."
Phrygia understood that those two ankles represented the grim fate of the assassin she had hired.
She couldn't even begin to imagine how he ended up like that, but she knew enough to realize she shouldn't panic first.
"Who's this?"
"Playing dumb? Ah~ I guess you wouldn't know his face. Since you probably didn't see him in person to make the contract...
But by now, you know who it is, don't you? I know everything, so don't bother trying to feign ignorance."
She had hired a first-rate assassin.
He would have committed suicide rather than divulge information about his client, so how had Atlas found out?
'... The circumstances narrow it down to me as the only possible client, so it's obvious he's just speculating.'
But she considered what benefit there would be in denying it any further. After thinking it over, she concluded there was no problem in acting boldly right now.
When she hired the assassin, she hadn't done anything that would leave a trail.
Atlas only had his suspicions that she had sent him; this much wouldn't be a problem at all.
"Say I did hire him... what are you going to do about it? Gonna hide behind Russell's big ass again and ask him to scold me?"
-Ppudeuk
A strange sound came from somewhere, but she paid it no mind.
The right answer here was to come out strong and turn the tables on the opponent who thought he held the upper hand.
As she stood up, puffing out her chest and speaking confidently, Atlas's eyes widened slightly.
"I don't know where you heard that slander, but
if you think anything you say will do me any harm, you are gravely mistaken."
This much could never cause any problem for Phrygia.
Even if she was accused of hiring an assassin to kill Atlas, who would believe it?
What need would the great Phrygia have to even hire an assassin to kill some nameless student?
Russell might believe Atlas's words, but that alone would mean nothing.
The assassin was dead, so there was no physical evidence.
The most anyone could do was express regret.
"Are you angry? Go on, hit me like you did Lemnos."
Phrygia trusted her background.
She believed in the golden power that wielded influence second only to the Emperor in the empire.
The intangible force her family radiated simply by reigning—power that manipulated people with just a word or two.
The Golden Duke was not a superhuman but an ordinary man, yet countless superhumans moved at his gesture.
So what of Russell, what of Lemnos?
In the end, what moved the world wasn't the strong individual but the weak multitude.
And what moved them wasn't force, but power.
Atlas strode toward her confidently.
See, both Lemnos and Atlas ultimately just get worked up but can't actually hit...
-Jjak!!!
A flash of sparks burst before her eyes.
"Uhh... uhh...."
Her vision, her mind—everything was dyed white, as if a firecracker had gone off inside her head.
When she came to her senses, Shahra was slumped on the rotting leaves.
Her cheek burned fiercely.
"Blo...od?"
She touched her soft face, and blood trickled freely from her mouth.
It felt like the inside of her mouth had been torn.
She was too confused to grasp what had happened.
Perhaps because her brain had been rattled, she couldn't think clearly.
Gradually, as her scattered mind returned, a hot, stinging pain throbbed in her cheek.
She couldn't even stand up properly and was dazedly touching her cheek when Atlas drew closer.
"Get up."
"What... did you... to me...?"
What on earth was happening to her? Had he really hit her?
Phrygia?
How did he plan to deal with the fallout?
It was incomprehensible.
Not even the eldest son of Nemea, but a hidden child nobody knew about—what gave him the confidence to do this?
She was in utter turmoil, but Atlas didn't stop.
"You told me to hit you, you crazy bitch."
-Kwak!!
"Hiek?!"
Her hair hurt.
He had grabbed a handful of the silky blonde hair she was so proud of and yanked her up.
Tears welled in her eyes from the pain in her scalp.
"Clench your teeth and you'll crack a molar."
"What??"
-Jjak!!!
Once again, white sparks flashed inside her head.
"You... you hit me again..! Twice..!!"
"Bullshit."
-Jjak!!!
-Jjak!!!
-Jjak!!!
-Jjak!!!
A flurry of fiery slaps followed, too many to count.
It hurt.
She couldn't think about anything else.
Every time Atlas brought his hand down, her face was turned, and a searing white flash of lightning struck inside her head.
In its wake, only the pain in her face and neck remained.
Phrygia's face was already a mess.
Her pale face was swollen like a tomato, several veins in her eyes had burst and turned red, and blood was streaming from her mouth.
Strangely enough, no teeth were broken, but her head had been shaken so violently she couldn't even stand on her own, dangling helplessly from Atlas's grip.
"You... you know who I am..."
She didn't know what courage had prompted the words; they just spilled unconsciously from her mouth.
"I know very well."
As she was hauled up by Atlas's grip, her eyes met his.
"A little brat who can't grasp the situation."
His eyes, which she recalled as resembling a blue sea, now looked dark and murky like a deep abyss, perhaps because of the shadows cast over them.
"Do you know where we are? The deepest part of the deep forest. Even the professors can't come in here, they say."
"This... place...?"
Having lifted Phrygia by the hair, Atlas shoved her against a log and cocked his right fist beside the log.
He adjusted the angle of his left hand gripping her hair, forcing her gaze down so she was staring at the hand he'd placed on the log.
Atlas slowly tapped the log with his fist, as if knocking on it.
What on earth was he trying to do?
The question was soon answered.
"The crazy bitch seriously hired a hit on me the moment she turned her back?"
-Puuuuk!!
As soon as he finished speaking, Atlas's right arm sank deep into the log with a shuuuk sound.
A deep hole was punched into the thick log.
It was an incredibly bizarre sight.
He had thrust his arm into the solid log as easily as poking a hole in soft bread.
"If I kill you here and toss your body as feed for the beasts, do you think people will ever know you're dead?"
Atlas's fist tapped Phrygia's abdomen lightly, again as if knocking.
The tapping rhythm reminded her vividly of the hole that had appeared in the log.
He was tapping slowly, deliberately, just like he had done to the log moments ago—as if telling her to remember this sensation, this rhythm.
"Try talking back as insolently as you usually do. Give me a reason why I should keep you alive."
It wasn't painful like the slaps to her face had been, but Phrygia's face turned deathly pale.
The thumping of his fist wasn't painful, but with each metronomic touch, the image of the log being punctured flashed through her mind.
Atlas's leisurely, deliberate attitude forced her to superimpose the image of the log onto herself.
Thump. Thump.
She could vividly feel the cold, hard sensation of his knuckles on her abdomen, covered only by a thin nightgown.