The Dean's Office Has Good Soundproofing
Who could it be?
Logan often took a full lap around the academy. The training grounds, cafeteria, storage rooms, laundry room, infirmary, dormitories—while reports were useful, there were things you could only truly understand by seeing them with your own eyes.
As he passed the laundry room, the door was slightly ajar, and the sound of running water came from inside. Shaaaa— And then a familiar voice.
“Ugh, seriously… why won’t this stain come out?”
Logan quietly poked his head through the gap in the door. It was Layman’s mother. She was wearing the work uniform issued by the academy—a light gray skirt paired with a white apron, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It was a completely different vibe from when she wore a dress, yet he unconsciously thought, She looks good in it.
Unaware that Logan had entered, she was scrubbing a uniform spread out on the washboard. Logan deliberately softened his footsteps and approached.
“…Is the work manageable?”
Ella flinched and looked up. Soapy water dripped from her wet hands.
“Dean…!”
She hurriedly straightened her back to greet him, but water from her apron splashed onto her chest, soaking it further. Her white blouse turned slightly see-through, revealing the outline of her bra.
“…The laundry room is new to you. It must be difficult, right?”
“Laundry itself… I’m used to it. I did a lot of it before.” She let out a small sigh. “But the smell is just too strong.”
She wrinkled her nose, turning her head slightly.
“Blood and sweat I can handle, but the monster stench… If I’m around it all day, my stomach churns and my head gets dizzy.”
“I see. I’ll look into getting you a tool from the Magic Department that blocks odors.”
“Ah… then I’d really appreciate it.”
She finished speaking and glanced up at him. Her eyes trembled slightly. The meaning in that gaze was crystal clear.
“And…” Logan paused for a moment, his eyes slowly tracing her wet apron and the cleavage visible beneath it. “…If your work uniform gets wet, change into a dry one. It’d be troublesome if you caught a cold.”
Ella’s ears turned bright red. She answered in a tiny voice.
“…Yes, I understand, Dean.”
He closed the laundry room door behind him.
“Take care, then.”
Logan climbed the stairs toward the third floor of the building on the academy’s outskirts, flipping through the documents in his hand once more.
The Magic Department of Lumen Academy was a practical training institution that refined mages sent down from the Magic Tower into combat mages. If the Magic Tower was a higher institution focused on theory and research, Lumen’s Magic Department taught the operation and tactics needed to survive on the actual front lines.
Since the sixth batch of new students had recently arrived from the Magic Tower and enrolled at Lumen Academy, Logan was on his way to check their evaluations and current status.
Mages from the Magic Tower typically entered Lumen Academy around ages twelve to fourteen. They underwent four years of practical education, and after graduation, they could return to the Tower for further training, become adventurers, or pursue various paths. However, one thing remained unchanged: they were required to enlist in the military after turning eighteen.
He knocked on the door, and a calm voice answered from within.
“Come in.”
When he opened the door, the Magic Department office unfolded before him. Bookshelves were packed with magic tomes and glowing crystal orbs, and a map engraved with runes floated above the central table.
Molga Carden stood by the window, gazing outside. In her early thirties, she had her long, wavy black hair loosely tied back and wore a neatly arranged mage’s robe. A former Magic Tower mage who had once been a candidate for the Hero’s party magician, she now served as the head of Lumen Academy’s Magic Department and an instructor.
“Logan, it’s been a while! Sit down. Want something to drink? How about some tea?”
Molga smiled warmly and approached the table. Logan dropped heavily into the chair across from her and held out the documents.
“Sorry for calling you when you’re busy, Molga. Do you have any magic tools that block odors?”
“Who needs it?”
“One of the workers in the laundry room says she needs it.”
“Really? Here, take this Lavender’s Breath Pouch. Put it in the breast pocket of the work uniform. When the smell gets bad, just give the pouch a light squeeze.”
Logan slipped the Lavender’s Breath Pouch into his pocket.
“Thanks. Also, the sixth batch of new students just came down from the Tower not long ago, right? I came to hear about their evaluations and how they’re doing.”
Molga took the documents, skimmed them, and nodded.
“Most of the sixth-years came with a solid foundation from the Tower. Literacy, calculation, and mana control are all fine, but they’re still clumsy with real combat application. There was an incident during training where someone couldn’t control their magic and fired it into the air.”
Logan crossed his arms and chuckled.
“That’s not too bad.”
Then Molga suddenly stared at him intently and raised an eyebrow.
“…By the way, Logan.”
“What?”
“You seem… in a rather good mood lately, don’t you?”
Logan shrugged.
“I’m always in a good mood.”
“No~ How should I put it… It’s like spring has bloomed on your face?”
Logan narrowed his eyes immediately.
“What are you talking about? That’s weird all of a sudden.”
The detection magic she had secretly cast on him long ago had just reacted faintly. The condition was simple: ‘If Logan becomes deeply physically entangled with someone, I’ll notice.’
And right now, a small but unmistakable ripple had come through.
Molga kept a casual smile on the surface and changed the subject.
“No, it’s just… you looked a bit tired lately, but your face is brighter now. I’m glad you seem to be doing well.”
Logan tilted his head but let it pass without much thought.
“Really? I’m the same as always.”
Molga smiled calmly and replied.
“Good. Take care of your health.”
But inside, she whispered very quietly.
…Who is it?
Logan stood up from his seat.
“Then I’ll leave the Magic Department in your hands.”
“Sure. Let’s have dinner together later.”
The door closed with a click. Molga quietly sat down in her chair and stared out the window. She tapped her fingertips on the table and let out a tiny sigh.
“…Who the hell is it, really?”
The next morning, after training ended.
I took out the item I had received from the Magic Department yesterday from the drawer of the desk in the dean’s office. It was a small purple cloth pouch. Inside were lavender and mint, along with a silver crystal shard engraved with a faint purification rune.
Its name was Lavender’s Breath Pouch. One squeeze and a fragrance would spread, completely masking any odors.
Logan held it in his hand and walked toward the laundry room.
Inside, Ella was boiling laundry by herself. Steam rose in curls, and sweat beaded on her forehead. Logan lightly knocked on the wall.
“Yes~”
Ella looked up, her expression turning slightly surprised.
“Dean…?”
Without a word, Logan approached and set the pouch down in front of her.
“You mentioned yesterday that the smell was bothering you.”
Ella’s eyes widened into perfect circles.
“This… is for me?”
“If you press it, a scent comes out and it’ll catch all the smells.”
Ella carefully picked up the pouch. She fiddled with the cloth for a moment, then gave it a gentle squeeze.
Whooo—
A soft lavender fragrance filled the laundry room. The stench of monster innards, sweat, and blood vanished completely.
Ella’s eyes sparkled.
“…It’s wonderful. Thank you so much, Dean.”
She hugged the pouch tightly to her chest. Then she suddenly lowered her head and spoke in a hushed voice.
“Thank you for granting my request.”
Logan nodded and left.
A little past noon the next day.
Molga had the windows of the Magic Department office wide open.
“Who could it possibly be…”
She tapped her fingertips on the table and muttered. The detection magic had definitely gone off. A very clear trace that Logan had become ‘deeply’ entangled with someone. She had originally cast it half as a joke and half out of worry. But now that it had actually reacted, she couldn’t help but be curious.
“…I’ll just take one more lap.”
Molga left the lab with her robe fluttering and wandered all over the academy. The training grounds reeked of the trainees’ sweat, the cafeteria smelled of aunties grilling meat, the infirmary had a priest tending to injured students, and only a security guard remained at the dormitory entrance.
After circling the academy once, she finally arrived at the laundry room. The door was slightly open. Along with the sound of water, a faint lavender scent drifted out.
This fragrance.
Molga quietly poked her head through the door gap.
Inside the laundry room, a woman stood in front of the washboard. She wore a light gray work skirt with a white apron, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Every time she bent at the waist, her skirt stretched tight, clearly outlining the curve of her hips.
Molga narrowed her eyes for a moment.
…With an ass like that, she’s exactly Logan’s type.
The woman turned her head. It was a familiar face. A woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, sharing the exact same eyes as the sixth-year student Layman.
Molga inwardly clicked her tongue.
Ah, it’s Layman’s mom.
She muttered to herself as if scolding her own thoughts.
“…It can’t be a kid’s mother.”
Leaving behind the lavender-scented laundry room, she turned on her heel. Molga brushed off her robe and spoke to herself.
“I need to look around a bit more.”
And with that, she disappeared down the corridor again.
For several days, Molga wandered the academy. Corridors, training grounds, cafeteria, laundry room, storage. There were a few women who caught her eye. Still, there wasn’t anyone who made her think, Ah, it must be her.
There isn’t any. That was all she could think.
The detection magic had definitely activated, yet she couldn’t find the person responsible. So she decided today would be the last day. If she couldn’t find them today either, she would give up searching inside the academy.
But when evening came, the academy was strangely quiet. The cafeteria, training grounds, and dormitories were all silent. Molga frowned and headed up to the second-floor corridor. Her footsteps echoed thinly down the hall. Outside the windows, it was already dark. Aside from a bit of dust floating beneath the lights, there was no movement.
She went up to the third floor. This was the floor where the dean’s office was located. The moment she rounded the corner of the stairs and stepped into the hallway, a black silhouette was caught in the moonlight—closing the door to the dean’s office and slipping inside. She only saw the back. A black dress. Long hair.
Found her.
Molga approached without making a sound. She carefully turned the doorknob.
Click. It was locked.
“…As expected.”
Molga sighed and pressed her ear lightly against the door. But no sound came through at all. The room had been magically reinforced for soundproofing. Logan had personally worked on it when he first created the dean’s office, making it so perfect that even Molga would have trouble breaking through.
So it was here.
She took a step back from the door and hid her body against the wall. She decided to wait until whoever it was came out.
Time passed.
The woman in the black dress quietly walked out. Her head was lowered, so her face wasn’t visible. With one hand she was fixing her disheveled hair, and with the other she was gently adjusting the front of her dress.
The woman slowly walked down the corridor. Molga held her breath and pressed herself into the shadow of the wall. Just as the woman drew a little closer, moonlight streaming through the window illuminated her face.
“…Huh?”
Molga’s eyes widened slightly.