Something's Wrong (2)
“To dare kneel not before me, to stare straight into my eyes so boldly. To sit across from me at eye level. I hadn't yet decided whether to kill you or let you live.”
Her voice held no emotion, yet a smile slowly spread across her face as she stared at me.
“What should I do?”
A clear laugh, like a child expecting praise. Her true nature couldn't be hidden, after all.
Elijah waited demurely for my answer. I thought quickly.
What kind of response is she hoping for?
It wasn't a simple question of whether I wanted to live or die. She was clearly expecting a specific reaction from me.
What am I to Elijah right now?
The first person to ever defy her so boldly—an intriguing figure. Intriguing, but one she could kill at any moment.
In other words, as long as I kept her interest, I wouldn't die just yet.
Was this the right long-term play? To keep fulfilling Elijah's curiosity? I had no idea. But in the short term, it was the best option.
So how do I keep her hooked?
Begging for my life? Groveling and saying she could kill me if she wanted? Neither would be interesting. I had to defy her expectations.
“Lady Elijah.”
I called her name calmly.
“If it's not too rude, may I ask you something?”
To question a noble lady who was my master without answering first—an utter breach of etiquette.
“Such insolence...!”
As expected, the knight behind her jumped in surprise. But—
“Quiet.”
Elijah raised a hand slightly. The knight hurriedly straightened up.
“Go ahead.”
Elijah permitted it with a bright smile. Rude as it was, it was perfect for piquing her interest.
“Why did you let only me pass?”
“Because you're fun and interesting.”
“Then, if I may boldly assert it, it would be better to let me live.”
“Why?”
“If I live, you'll get to see more fun and interesting things from me, more often.”
“Hmm.”
Elijah nodded with a faint smile. Her small finger tapped the table: tap, tap.
Cold sweat broke out on my skin unbidden.
That's her habit when she's thinking...
I'd said my piece. How exactly I'd be fun and interesting? I didn't know yet. I'd thrown it out there to survive for now.
I'll figure something out later.
Her interest wouldn't last forever. She was the type to tire of things quickly. Eventually, she'd forget there ever was such a candidate.
“You're already halfway to success.”
“...Pardon?”
“I heard you were sold here as a slave.”
“Yes, that's right.”
“Yet your eloquence is impressive. The vocabulary you use. The way you know you're being rude but still try to show consideration. The structure and order of your words, meant to persuade.”
“......”
“It's like looking at an educated noble.”
I'd slipped up. This wasn't a world like Korea, where education was open to everyone.
“But from how you hold your teacup with no manners at all, you're clearly no noble. So it doesn't seem like formal education either.”
“......”
“Interesting.”
Tap. Elijah smiled brightly and tapped her teacup. Steam still rose from the untouched tea.
“Fine. I'll let you live.”
“...Thank you.”
“Your name?”
“Judas Defecit, Lady Elijah.”
“Judas. I'll remember that.”
“It's an honor.”
“You can go now. Oh, and feel free to take the rest.”
I didn't hesitate to scoop up the cookies. It was too much to carry by hand. My pockets?
“...Lia. Pack those up for him.”
Elijah pointed to one of the maids. The red-haired one fetched a paper bag and filled it with the remaining cookies.
“I'll be looking forward to it, Judas.”
Elijah waved with a twirling smile. For some reason, the graceful gesture sent a chill down my spine. She was so much younger, yet she overlapped with the villainess I knew.
Hiding my unease, I bowed.
“I'll treasure this honor for life.”
*
Back at the dorms, Room 13 erupted the moment I returned.
“Hey—! New guy's here!”
“Where?! Oh! Hey! You! Dude!”
“What the hell, man! What happened?!”
“What'd you talk about with the lady?!”
“I've been here over a year, and she's never come in person before!”
All eleven of them swarmed me at once, shouting. My ears rang. First things first, I pulled the paper bag from my robe.
Food was the best way to shut them up quietly.
“Here, everyone—have some of these first.”
“What's this?”
Dillon took the bag. He opened it, and a savory, sweet aroma wafted out.
“Th-this, this...!”
“Cookies! Holy shit, how many are there? These are expensive...”
“New guy brought premium cookies!”
“From now on, the new guy's a god!”
It warmed my heart, but also gave me an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. This was just like soldiers reacting to Choco Pies.
“As of today, any attacks on Judas will be considered hostility against all of Room 13!”
Richard bellowed the declaration at the candidates crowding in from other rooms. They must've been curious about my private audience with Elijah too.
“Back off! We'll hand 'em out one by one!”
Whether by rank or something, Dillon distributed the cookies to the candidates. Even I, the one who brought them, got one.
“So, new guy—what'd the lady want? What'd she say?”
Someone asked, munching away.
What should I say? Could I be honest?
'She asked if she should kill me or let me live.'
Did these guys know Elijah's true nature? She'd become a villainess the whole world would fear later on. Not quite yet, probably. From what I'd heard, they rarely even saw her. Plus, the Bebel family surprisingly managed their public image well.
If I say the wrong thing, they might think I'm insulting my master.
A slave insulting a noble master was punishable by death. So I couldn't tell the truth.
Time to make something up...
“She called me about what happened at the candidate selection ceremony.”
A harmless half-truth to build on.
“Speaking of, what went down that only you passed? And the lady picked you herself.”
“...I looked her straight in the eye.”
“Gahk—!”
Someone choked on their cookie, clutching their chest. The others eavesdropping had similar reactions.
“I had no choice back then.”
True enough. I figured staring her down would get me eliminated—and save my life.
“I really wanted to make it here.”
Couldn't say that part honestly, so I dressed it up.
“What kinda lunatic are we dealing with...”
“I knew he wasn't normal from how he didn't flinch at first, but this guy's on another level.”
“Thanks.”
I replied coolly. Goodwill bought with cookies wouldn't last. This was a strict class society and a cutthroat competition. Show any weakness, and you'd be trampled. I needed to show I wasn't an easy target.
“First off, Judas—your spot's here.”
Dillon led me to it: the bottom bunk of the bed closest to the door on the second level.
“Basics like clothes and hygiene stuff are in the locker. Help yourself.”
I was impressed anew. Just becoming a guard knight candidate guaranteed food, clothing, and shelter. I got why beggars and slaves signed up. Sure, everyone knew it was the villain family's place, but who wouldn't pledge loyalty if they provided the essentials?
If they didn't know they'd end up dying at Elijah's hands later, that is.
Dillon took me out next, touring the dorm building and explaining the layout. Rooms were grouped in fives per section, each with its own supervising knight. Room 13 was in Section 3, supervised by Thomas.
Outside fixed training and mealtimes, it was free time—but leaving your section was forbidden. Weekends allowed outings, though.
It was strictly hierarchical by intake class. You had to show absolute loyalty to seniors from earlier intakes, regardless of skill or merit. Even seniors from other rooms demanded respect. As a guard knight trainee, unquestioning obedience to the hierarchy was mandatory.
As the sole 13th intake, I was effectively the baby of the whole camp.
This is gonna be a headache.
The only 13th intake—and personally approved by Elijah. Perfect position to draw hate.
About 240 knight candidates, huh? They must spend a fortune.
The Bebel Duchy had money to burn. And this was where they trained knights to protect the direct line. It made sense.
“Training varies by intake and skill level, but mostly we do it together. Sometimes we take missions for real combat experience and pay.”
“I see.”
“That's the basics. No training today, so feel free to explore.”
“Thank you.”
Back in the room, a few guys greeted me warmly. The cookie favor was still fresh. Some played card games or chatted.
Pretending to check my locker, I pondered.
What now?
I needed a long-term plan. Escape the camp, then the Bebel Duchy entirely.
Guard knights go through multiple tests.
I didn't know the details—how many or what kind. But dropouts got retest chances.
I already boasted to Elijah that I'd show her something interesting. If I flunk out, she'll kill me for lying.
So for now, live normally here. Escape later.
When her interest fades, flunk a test and leave.
If that failed? Always plan for the worst.
For a secret escape route, I need money.
Plus enough status and strength to avoid suspicion. And this was before the timeline I knew—my info might not hold.
Simple conclusion for now.
Settle in, adapt through training, refine the escape plan.
As I sorted my thoughts, someone spoke up.
“Uh, hi.”
A timid voice. A boy about my age.
“I-I'm Richard. You're Judas, right? I'm using the bunk above you.”
“Ah, yes. Nice to meet you—please take care of me.”
“N-no! I'm 12th intake. Not much older than you. Feel free to talk casually.”
“No, I couldn't.”
“St-still, it'd be awkward...”
Richard nagged persistently for me to drop the formalities—enough to annoy anyone. But I held firm, polite to the end.
“Hoo...”
Richard sighed, then—
“Ha! Hahaha!”
Burst into hearty laughter.
“Dude, you caught on, huh?”
His tone flipped casual. I admitted calmly.
“Yes.”
“Damn, you're the real deal.”
Someone chimed in from the side.
“First time I've seen Senior Richard fail.”
“Right? His instincts are ghost-level.”
Earlier, Dillon had handed out cookies by rank. Richard got first dibs—I'd noted it.
And that wasn't all. Richard—the future “Lion Knight.” His kid self had me doubting at first, but now I was sure.
Curly golden mane like a lion's, foul mouth.
Richard offered a handshake, grinning broadly unlike his earlier meek act.
“Richard, 5th intake.”
“...Judas, 13th intake.”
“Yeah, baby bro. Nice to meetcha. How old are ya?”
“Thirteen.”
“Whoa, you know your exact age? Wild. I'm fifteen... I think.”
5th intake... I shook politely, scanning the room. He seemed the highest rank in Room 13.
“Smart kid, quick on the uptake—I like it.”
A fifteen-year-old talking like a grizzled vet.
“Take care of me.”
“Yes, Senior—please take care of me.”
“Yeah, and bring cookies sometimes if you can.”
Kid was a kid, after all.
“Headin' to workout—come with?”
First thrilling words since arriving.
Workout...
I was too moved to speak. Richard mistook it for hesitation.
“No need to freak, man. Besides, better to go with me anyway.”
What'd that mean? No reason to refuse, so I followed him to the gym with the equipment.
I got it immediately. Eyes glared as soon as we entered—some recognized me. But they dropped when they saw Richard beside me.
Power of seniority.
Young as he was, 5th intake. Earlier intakes dwindled over time, so few dared mess with him—or anyone with him.
“That's why I said come together.”
Richard grinned lazily.
“They know your face by now, so no one's gonna bother you today. But me hanging around'd cramp their style. Work out easy and head back.”
Almost called him big bro forever.
Richard went off for warm-ups. I surveyed the gym.
A vague medieval-ish setting.
Yet the gym was pristine, rivaling modern ones.
Mass-produced isekai standards.
Best part of fantasy. Recalling my past life, I checked my body's state.
Malnourished. Poor posture. Weak core. Imbalanced coordination.
Start with light bodyweight. Build slowly. Overdo it, and growth stunts—but this body couldn't handle extremes anyway.
I dropped for push-ups in a corner. One was a struggle. Wrists ached, thin pecs screamed.
It felt damn good. When muscles get properly stimulated, they say you “ate well.” That day, I feasted on my chest.
*
Next day after arrival. Everyone from Sections 1 and 3 assembled on the training grounds for morning drills. Schedules aligned, but sections trained separately—except morning runs, sometimes together.
Murmurs rippled. They should've been silent in formation, but ~100 candidates buzzed.
Good reason: the girl who'd one day be their mistress stood before them, gazing down from a lavish chair. A maid held a parasol beside her.
Section 3's knight, Thomas, announced tensely.
“Today is the glorious day Lady Elijah graces us by observing training personally! Give it your all—don't disappoint her!”
Officially to watch the candidates. But I knew better.
Our eyes met. She's here for me.
Expecting something intriguing.
Didn't expect her to be this proactive...
Yesterday, I'd blurted anything to survive. No clue what to show.
The morning run began. Elijah nibbled toast, watching quietly.
“Hey, think the lady's lookin' this way?”
“Nah, at me, right? Shit, should I flash my abs?”
“You do that, it's the scaffold, idiot.”
Some candidates bantered mid-run. Elijah's gaze slowly swept them—but lingered on me often. As if demanding a show.
Then—thwack—someone shouldered past.
“...?”
Boy about fourteen. He overtook, then sneered back.
What the hell's his problem?
Unfamiliar face. Minutes later, one flanked each side.
“Judas, tough goin'?”
Richard.
“Take it easy.”
Dillon.
“F-fine... thanks...”
I gasped it out. My scrawny frame wheezed after a little running, lungs burning. They'd lapped me several times already.
“No wonder—pushin' like a maniac day one.”
Richard tsked beside me. Yesterday's push-up binge contributed.
“Effort's good, but match your level.”
Dillon advised rationally. I knew. Got carried away yesterday...
No breath to reply—just run—when that jerk shouldered me again. Rude pass between me and Richard hit his shoulder too.
“That fuckin' prick...”
Richard muttered through gritted teeth. He was 5th intake. Meaning the guy was an even earlier senior.
Right then, eyes met Elijah's. She grinned at me.
Show me something fun now?
“Hoo...”
A sigh escaped.
What to do...