Chapter 19: Mr. Niger, Let's Commit a Murder. (2)
I opened my eyes.
The view outside the window was even darker than before, and the moon had climbed a little higher, spilling pale light across the room.
When I checked the time, exactly one hour had passed since I'd closed my eyes.
The fact that I'd slept longer than usual suggested that Niger had been rather flustered by my note as well. And no wonder — this was a man who gagged at the mere sight of blood, let alone the death of a person, and out of nowhere I'd written him a note proposing a murder.
Waking up and thinking it over again, I found the whole thing funny.
With that thought, I sat up, walked over to the desk, and checked the note.
— Who is it that you wish to kill?
For someone who'd supposedly agonized over it for an hour, it was a remarkably concise answer. Or should I say, a note that laid his personality bare — the man who never used ten words when five would do.
And I had written my reply to that note straight away.
I told him, more or less, that I'd gotten word a short, hunchbacked man was planning to set off a terror attack during the Academy Open Event. That was the gist of it.
He replied that he found the information dubious. Fair enough.
Yeah. Honestly, he had every right to be suspicious.
Here was a tenant who normally spent his days going on dates with a fellow professor and living in peace, and suddenly the note in his hands read, 'Please kill someone suspected of being a terrorist.'
If I were in his shoes, suspicion would've been my first reaction too.
Come to think of it, wasn't it exactly like when Niger abruptly told me to kill Professor Prodi? The only difference was that the one speaking and the one listening had swapped places.
Still.
All I could offer him right now was a plea to trust me just this once. With the justification lacking, the evidence lacking, and every little thing in between lacking, I couldn't very well spit out nonsense like some kind of demon.
What was I supposed to do if a murderer stuffed to the brim with divine power decided he wanted to exorcise me?
So I brushed it off with the logic that anyone plotting a terror attack couldn't possibly be a good person, and therefore simply deserved to die. And at the reply that came back, I frowned.
— If you intend to kill just anyone, I will choose someone myself.
Oh, honestly.
For a murderer, he was remarkably picky — and that reply of his made something tighten in my chest.
If I was honest with myself, it was guilt.
Guilt over the fact that I'd made the world like this, that I'd written a story in which people died merely because they were characters in a novel.
The thought that people who'd been laughing alongside me until just yesterday might die because of me made my chest feel tight and heavy.
But then again.
Even if I told him I was a possessor who knew the future, would Niger actually believe me?
I couldn't take a risk with an outcome I couldn't predict, so I laced my note with needless emotion and lashed out.
— You said it yourself before, didn't you? There's no evidence, but he's a villain either way, so just make him a murder target. I'm in exactly the same position.
— Frankly, where I got this information is none of your business. You hide plenty of things yourself — am I not allowed to hide anything? He's a villain, just as you said. A villain who will bomb the Academy.
— We share the same boat now, so just trust me for once.
You didn't hesitate to brand someone a villain without a shred of evidence either, did you?
Why should you care where the information came from, as long as the killing gets done? I'm handing you the very kind of villain you love so much — what's the problem?
We're in the same boat now, so just trust me for once.
I scrawled the note with all of that feeling jammed into it.
I wanted to save people. And it wasn't as if I wanted to get caught weeding out the wrong person and dragged off to the Imperial Audit Department, either.
The man who'd reluctantly swallowed all those emotions of mine gave a different answer than the stubborn one I'd offered before.
— Then you handle catching the culprit at the scene. After that, I will handle the killing — without anyone finding out.
That was how he'd scribbled his reply.
And after that, right up until the day of the event itself, Niger never answered my notes again.
Two weeks had passed since then.
Preparations for the Academy Open Event — a three-day festival running from Wednesday to Friday of the sixth week — had been underway since the previous week.
As a result, nearly every non-mandatory lecture had been canceled, and I, who was already coasting through my teaching duties, spent my days simply wandering the grounds of the Academy.
The faculty who ought to have been slumped over in their chairs on a Monday and the students who normally sighed their way through lectures were all bustling about instead.
Tents and every manner of decoration had been erected across the campus, as if to boast about the coming festival, and crowds thronged around the great hall and the plaza, where work was still underway.
"Professor Niger, what are you planning to do during the event? You're not going to tell me you'll just stay in your research office like last year… right?"
Elia, strolling alongside me through it all, turned to me with an utterly thrilled expression.
From the way she was talking, she clearly meant for us to enjoy the festival together — and having to dash that hope left a slightly bitter taste in my mouth.
"Hmm, I was thinking I ought to do a patrol of some kind. Like you mentioned before, a great many people will be gathered for this event, so I have a feeling something might happen."
"Huh…? Professors don't need to patrol, though. The Academy guards should be more than enough for that…?"
Of course, the patrol force existed. But since the original story had those very men failing to stop the terror attack, they weren't exactly a force I could put my faith in.
"Still, you never know. Better safe than sorry."
"Aww…."
Elia's eyes went round, and her hands fidgeted in the air. Her sweetly smiling face trembled.
Her slumping shoulders made her look exactly like a sulking puppy — I could almost see a drooping tail and floppy ears that couldn't possibly be there.
And I hadn't even finished what I was saying.
"That's why I have a favor to ask. Would you, perhaps, care to walk with me? If we go around together and everything looks fine, then I think it would be all right to enjoy a bit of the festival."
"Uh…, eh? Together? I—of course! If you're going to work yourself ragged on patrol, Professor, I can hardly be lazing around on my own, can I?"
Truthfully, the word patrol was just an excuse.
So long as it wasn't Friday — the final day of the event, when the incident would occur — I could stroll around at my leisure and enjoy myself all I wanted.
Not that I intended to take the patrol lightly, since there was always the chance some other accident might break out. But regardless, that was the plan.
"Hehe…, then which route should we patrol? The plaza, surely? There'll be so much to enjoy there…, or rather, that's where the crowds will be thickest."
"Ah, yes. But by the way, Professor Elia."
"Yes! What is it?"
"Isn't it time for your lecture?"
I may be a general-studies professor who coasts through my classes, but you're responsible for a mandatory one, aren't you?
"Huh? Ah…! What — why is it already one o'clock?!"
"Well, we did walk for forty minutes after lunch, so one o'clock sounds about right, doesn't it?"
Somehow she'd been far too relaxed about things.
The woman had forgotten the very lecture she herself was responsible for, and had just been grinning away this whole time.
Hmm. On reflection, I'd say the fault lay mostly with Niger, the one who'd enabled all this.
Or more precisely, the fault lay squarely with this face.
An appearance that made people grin like idiots even when he wasn't doing a thing.
Truly electrifying.
"Ahh, I've got to run, Professor! Oh — and you'll be at the library again today, right?"
"Yes, I'll be waiting at the library."
I waved at Elia as she sprinted off toward the great hall, then turned back the way I'd come. I intended to while away the hours at the library.
And so I arrived at the library.
"…Professor. Are you quite certain you bear me no ill will?"
That was the greeting awaiting me from Bellatrix, who had arrived before me.
"Of course. It's a coincidence."
"Coming all the way to the library, then sitting down directly in front of me to read a book — that's a coincidence?"
"Yes. A remarkable coincidence."
I gave her a smile — the very picture of worldly goodwill — and she answered it with a scowl.
"Professor, look. I said I'd try not to suspect you, but if you keep tormenting me like this, you'll make me want to start."
"…Sister, reading a book together is not torment. And helping you with practical exercises during lecture time is even less so."
Saving for that single occasion when Bellatrix got me scolded by Elia, I had been genuinely, ardently devoted to helping her, after all.
So thinking, I studied Bellatrix closely.
The original novel's main heroine, Bellatrix Feltner.
In the story, she was sharper-tongued than anyone and stingy with affection as a rule — but precisely because of that, once she did open her heart to someone, she became remarkably proactive.
Through the early chapters, she kept Lutz at arm's length, forever dismissive and contemptuous, until some incident turned that attitude into fondness.
The main story arc was when she fell into peril.
Watching Lutz — the boy she'd always brushed aside and looked down on — thrash and struggle and risk his very life to save her, she felt romantic love for the first time. And once she joined the ranks of Lutz's heroines like that, she claimed the seat of main heroine with overwhelming presence.
That was the kind of person she was.
"Professor, isn't staring at me like that also a form of torment?"
"Sister…, forgive me, but you're overthinking it."
"I think it's your gaze that's excessive, Professor."
Still.
Wasn't she being a bit too prickly, though?
Yes, I'd poured affection into teaching her during lectures, swept up in the fact that she was the main heroine — but surely there was no need for her suspicion to curdle into outright alarm every time she saw me.
Come to think of it, she'd been my favorite character back when I was writing the novel.
"Sister Bellatrix, I have a concern I'd like to share with you."
"Fine. Work that concern out on your own."
"If this concern gets resolved, I'll go a little easier on everyone in lecture. Not just you — on all the students."
Having made that request of Bellatrix, I soon went off in search of a book.
Ordinarily I would have stayed seated, but every time I caught the expression on her face — that perpetual is this some new breed of harassment? look — I found I simply couldn't bring myself to stay.
Watched calmly, she didn't actually dislike me, but after my earnest efforts in every single lecture, she'd started reacting to the sight of me as if she were developing PTSD.
I felt a little sorry about that.
And so, having coasted through another day, I clocked out with razor-sharp punctuality the moment my time was up.
Back home, I lay down alone on my bed.
In two days, the event would begin.
And I intended, by any means necessary, to stop the villain before he could detonate his bomb.
But honestly speaking, I still had no idea whether I'd prepared well at all.
I couldn't very well ask for manpower to stop a terror attack that hadn't happened yet, and even if someone demanded to know where I'd learned of it, I had no answer I could give.
So the sum total of my preparations amounted to the requests I'd made to Elia and Bellatrix.
As for Niger's help…
Realistically, that was something I couldn't expect in that situation.
With that thought, I closed my eyes.
Time flowed on, and at last, the Academy Open Event began.