Chapter 80: Apostle (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 80: Apostle (1)
Life at Joaquin Graduate School was brimming with dignity.
Wake-up time was eight o'clock. Both morning and evening. Meaning 8:00 AM and 8:00 PM were the official times graduate students woke up.
Naturally, that wake-up time was a mere formality on paper. When the professor called, one had to rise like a bee and flutter like a butterfly. Autonomy was a luxury denied to graduate students. Their fates rested entirely on their professor's whim.
—Assistant Ji Chang-hyuk?
The time was 10:00 PM.
Half-asleep, Ji Chang-hyuk scrambled upright in bed.
“Y-Yes, ma'am...!”
—Could you come over right now?
“What seems to be...”
Ji Chang-hyuk’s voice trembled. Dark circles hung low enough to reach his Adam’s apple. The voice on the other end—Professor Kim (Choi Seol-ah)—sharply retorted:
—Is a graduate student permitted to question their professor?
“I stand corrected...!”
—It’s urgent, so come to my office as soon as you're ready. Ah, and grab my socks from the laundry room on your way. Thanks.
Click.
“...”
He stared at his reflection in the blacked-out screen of his smartphone for a few seconds.
Bloodshot eyes, gaunt cheeks, chapped lips with peeling skin.
Is this really the face of a human being?
Ha, haha... A hollow laugh escaped his lips.
“No... I’m not a human anymore...”
A single wrong choice had reduced a promising young man to a slave. It was too late to back out. His soul had already been thoroughly broken and tamed.
Tamed like beasts... is that why they call us assistants...?
Ji Chang-hyuk clumsily threw on some clothes. The night air was chilly, but the hollow hole in his chest felt colder still.
By nature, Ji Chang-hyuk was a good-hearted person. Even his parents used to worry about him, saying a true hero needed to know how to be a bit arrogant.
“Fuck.”
If changing his personality had been his parents' wish, Joaquin Graduate School had successfully drilled it into him—though the process was utterly inhumane. As a result, Ji Chang-hyuk had splendidly transformed into a cynical, foul-mouthed mess.
“It’s fucking freezing. Dammit.”
Even though it was May, he shivered. Wrapping his arms around his shoulders as if comforting himself, Ji Chang-hyuk trudged toward the laboratory. A single tear glistened against the charcoal darkness under his eyes.
*
Episode: Apostle
Inside a research lab at the graduate school, a sofa was entirely taken over by a pair of long, slender legs. The tall owner of those legs was Choi Seol-ah.
Lying on the sofa, Choi Seol-ah was flipping through a women's magazine.
I wonder what new designer bags came out this time.
The display cabinets in the lab were packed with luxury items. High-end designer bags sat on display with their price tags still attached, accompanied by an array of fancy perfumes boasting their presence.
Was this a graduate research lab or a luxury department store floor? Not that it mattered to a graduate school professor. To them, a "research lab" was just another word for a hideout to eat, sleep, and lounge around.
Thump.
The open magazine dropped over Choi Seol-ah’s face. Snickers echoed beneath the paper.
“Ehehehehe!”
Happiness, pure happiness!
Graduate school is the absolute best! My very own paradise!
When the plan to establish a graduate school was first proposed, Choi Seol-ah had adamantly opposed it. It was the only actual graduate school in existence in this world, and her stance stemmed from her past experience completing a master's degree in the Department of Education.
Naturally, Choi Seol-ah was wicked by nature, so her opposition wasn't out of pity for the cadets.
It was simply akin to how veterans wouldn't even pee in the direction of their old military base. The education graduate school had left her with painful memories—an indelible mark burned into her psyche.
G-r-a-d-u-a-t-e S-c-h-o-o-l.
Just hearing those words gave her chills. To think such a place was taking root in Joaquin Academy, her workplace!
I seriously thought about running away back then.
A place that had been hell when she was at the bottom became an absolute paradise once the roles were reversed.
Choi Seol-ah had been recognized for her contributions to compiling educational materials by being granted a professorship. She was still the Academy Principal's secretary, but the Principal was someone who handled everything well on her own anyway.
The magazine resting on Choi Seol-ah's face rose and fell with her breathing. Nostrils flaring beneath the paper, she muttered to herself,
“It’s sweet. The air is so sweet.”
Money just duplicated itself even when all she did was lounge around, eat, and sleep. When she got bored once in a while, she’d take attendance before lectures. It was a total jackpot.
“Yeah. My real life starts now.”
Let's milk this sweet deal even more. Let me work those slaves harder!
Kekekekekekekekeke!
Just then, her shadow-canopy was abruptly yanked away. With the magazine gone, the bright glare of an incandescent light assaulted her corneas, piercing her eyes like needles.
“Kyaaak!”
Choi Seol-ah screamed, covering her eyes. The culprit who snatched the magazine spoke up.
“Living the comfortable life, aren't we?”
A sudden chill ran down her spine.
“...Hehe.”
Choi Seol-ah scrambled off the sofa, immediately dropping her hands to her sides in a rigid stance. Tears streamed down her face.
“What brings you here, My Lord?”
Kang Geomma stood over her, backlit by the incandescent bulb like a halo around his head. The look in his eyes was appalling. Surely a person looking at a bug would display more warmth than this.
“Look at you, a full-fledged professor now. I even had to get 'Professor Kim’s' permission just to visit this lab.”
“Hehe. But it’s a newly established institution, you know? If procedures break down right at the beginning, discipline gets slack.”
“Who do you think is the slackest person in this room?”
“...Objectively speaking, that would be me?”
“Ah, so you knew and still acted like that.”
“Hehee...”
Kang Geomma rolled up the women's magazine, completing a surprisingly decent-looking club. Hmm, this is enough to meet the criteria for the Blessing of the Sword God.
As long as I recognize it as a sword.
Her survival instincts kicked in immediately. Choi Seol-ah was shrewd enough to read a person's thoughts just by sniffing the air. She prostrated herself instantly.
“I have committed a mortal sin, My Lord!”
She looked ready to lick his boots. In fact, whenever she messed up, Choi Seol-ah frequently tried to stick her tongue out toward Geomma's shoes. Whenever she did, he would plant a soccer kick right into her face.
“It’s not a mortal sin. Besides, Choi Seol-ah, there's no way you actually want to die.”
“You know me waaay too well...”
“It’s been about ten years.”
“Wow, has it really been that long already? Horrifying.”
He raised the rolled-up magazine high.
“Horrifyingly good, I mean! I only have eyes for you, My Lord! Woof woof! Please take good care of me for another hundred years!”
Ugh... The grip on his hand loosened. The structural integrity of the paper club relaxed on its own.
“...Besides, you’re way older than me. You were already an instructor back when I was a cadet.”
Kang Geomma tossed the magazine aside and sat on the sofa. Choi Seol-ah shuffled over on her knees and replied.
“I’m really not that much older than you, My Lord.”
“What are you talking about? You went to graduate school, served as an instructor... Add all that up and it’s easily ten years, plus the ten years you’ve been with me. Rough estimate, you’re pushing forty.”
“Ah... I guess I never told you, My Lord. I actually entered graduate school when I was a minor. Back then, the Department of Education graduate school was under-enrolled, so they didn't really check ages strictly. Not that it would have mattered much anyway.”
...What?
“Don't you have to graduate from the academy to enter graduate school? That’s the procedure.”
“I just enrolled earlier than everyone else~”
“How?”
“Forgery, of course.”
Ah. Naturally, it was illegal.
“The Villain Syndicate was still alive and kicking back then. I was part of the Syndicate since I was super little, so they took care of all those tedious procedures for me.”
“I’m asking out of genuine curiosity... How old were you when you entered the academy then?”
Choi Seol-ah poked her cheek with her index finger, trying to recall. Right. It must have been at least twenty years ago. Stop trying to act like a youth.
“Looking back now, I think I was nine?”
“...?”
My head throbbed, as if I had been struck in the temple with a rubber mallet. I stared at her with wide eyes and asked,
“Nine years old at an academy where people enroll at seventeen?”
“I was really tall for my age back then.”
“How tall were you at nine?”
“Probably just five centimeters shorter than I am now.”
Fair enough, she could fool people with her height.
“What about your face?”
“Oh, come on. Everyone has baby fat at that age. Nine or seventeen, it’s basically the same!”
I didn't even know where things went wrong. She's not lying. She wasn't the type to lie about something like this.
Meanwhile, I calculated her age in my head. Nine plus roughly nineteen years...
“You...”
Good Lord.
“You were only one year older than me?!”
“Turns out so.”
Choi Seol-ah nodded nonchalantly. Stunned, I was overcome by a strange, inexplicable sense of betrayal.
“...”
“...”
“Wanna be friends?”
“Ha, haha, haha.”
“I have committed a mortal sin!”
The atmosphere in the lab turned ice-cold. Choi Seol-ah quietly shuffled backward on her knees, planning to escape while Kang Geomma was distracted.
In that instant, a heavy vibration resonated from her tight pocket as she knelt. Dammit, of all times!
Choi Seol-ah let out a resigned sigh. Since escaping was off the table, she decided to vent her annoyance on whoever ruined her timing. Considering the situation, it was probably one of the graduate students...
“...Huh?”
Choi Seol-ah let out a dumbfounded squeak. Kang Geomma, realizing her getaway plan a second too late, stepped closer. Yet Choi Seol-ah remained frozen, staring blankly at her phone screen.
Why is this number...?
Her face grew paler than if she had received a call from a ghost. That was because the caller was...
Choi Seol-ah lifted her chin, her black pupils glistening with tension.
This organization was destroyed by his hands, wasn't it?
*
The United States was a young nation with a short history. While its national power was top-tier, in a world that valued tradition and history, its clout fell somewhat short.
Thus, as if to make up for it, the US established its own unique hero system—most notably, Hero Companies led by the likes of Lancelot Company.
A Hero Company offered two main attractions: extraordinary compensation and tailored character branding. For heroes who prioritized fame over honor, these organizations were the ultimate object of admiration.
However, that applied mostly to non-Americans. A true American hero was expected to dedicate themselves to their country and build up its still-nascent history. All Mute, Kahn Elizabeth, was precisely that kind of hero.
“Whew.”
All Mute wiped her forehead. One of her boots rested atop the peak of a mountain—a mound built entirely from the corpses of demons.
“I never expected a dungeon like this to suddenly appear in the middle of the Texas plains.”
“Tell me about it!”
A booming cry rang out. Stomping the ground with explosive force, Rachel leapt into the air. Landing side-by-side with All Mute at the top of the mound, she raised the edge of her palm to her brow, shading her eyes.
Rachel peered into the distance. The dungeon resembled the corridor of an ancient temple. Deep darkness pooled at the vanishing point, and stone pillars grew progressively larger from far away, obeying the strict rules of perspective.
“Shall we push a bit further?”
Just as Rachel lowered her hips to spring forward, All Mute extended an arm to block her sight.
All Mute spoke up.
“This isn't a dungeon meant for humans to enter.”
She wasn't addressing Rachel, but the darkness ahead.
“And it certainly isn't a dungeon meant for twelve people to be hiding behind the pillars.”
The next moment.
Slide.
Shadowy figures stepped out from between the pillars. Wearing overcoats, tracksuits, martial arts doboks—their outfits were so uniquely distinct that, at first glance, they looked like a group out on a picnic.
There was no common theme to their attire, and the gender ratio was completely mixed.
Yet those twelve individuals...
Snap.
Snapped their fingers in perfect, mechanical unison.