Chapter 20: Mr. Niger, Let's Commit One Murder (3)
The Academy Open Event had begun.
Wednesday arrived at last, and the Academy—uncharacteristically—was packed with people.
Stalls of every description had sprung up across the Academy Plaza. Merchants, eager to suck whatever honey they could out of the one event of the year that opened the campus to the public, had set up their shops in dense, unbroken rows.
Food that would fatten you up at a glance lined the walkways, and here and there between them sat various mini-game booths. It was the kind of scene that would drive Elia insane—which is to say, I figured I needed to deliberately steer clear of it.
And for good reason: if Elia got excited and started begging, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from saying yes.
In the auditorium hall, personal booths prepared by the students had been set up. The first-years, still too green to know any better, hadn't prepared anything, so it was mostly second- and third-years running the show.
Oh, of course, the fourth-years had job hunting to do. They had no time to enjoy events like this. Before graduating from the Academy, they would either become civil servants or return to their families to carry on the household—there was no such thing as a peaceful season for them.
Beyond that, the Academy's pride and joy, its gardens, bloomed even more brilliantly than usual. The flowers had gone past full bloom and kept scattering their petals into the air. My useless worry—what if all the petals fall and it turns ugly?—melted away at the sight of new blossoms opening again before long.
They'd clearly poured no small amount of effort into the main building's classrooms as well. The Chairman's boast that they had scrubbed every hall so immaculately that not a speck of dust would appear by the day before the opening—absolutely staggering.
And as if in answer, the subjects of the Empire filled every corner of the Academy.
The Plaza was already at capacity. Fathers hoisted their children onto their shoulders and wandered about. A few little kids, wild with excitement, darted all over the square, and the shouts of mothers who looked the part rang out after them.
"Whoa… there really are a lot of people this year. At this rate, we really will have to do a proper patrol."
"…Yes. It seems even larger than I expected."
Elia and I simply stood there, staring blankly at the scene around us.
There were far more people than I'd imagined. If the crowd was this thick on the very first day, what on earth would the final day look like?
Could I actually pick the villain out of all this?
No.
Frankly, with people overflowing like this, even knowing the culprit was a hunchback, I doubted I'd spot him easily.
It was all my own fault, really—back when I serialized the story, I'd never bothered to detail the terror attack that occurred during this episode. All I'd written was that the hunchbacked culprit found the happy expressions of the noble students and the glittering face of the Academy distasteful to look at.
And so the terror episode began—at some vague point during the Academy Open Event, somewhere in the Plaza, at seven in the evening, with the sound of an explosion.
That was the extent of it. Barely a line of description.
What's more, with the plot having shifted so much by now, I couldn't even guarantee that the first day of the festival would be safe.
Yes. This was my karma for trying to coast through the story.
"Professor Niger!"
Of course, even now, my heart was fully committed to coasting.
Because even in the middle of all this, I was thinking about how pretty Elia looked.
Amid the crush of the crowd, she was smiling that easy smile of hers, eyes fixed only on me.
"Hmm~ So where should we go first? The Plaza makes the most sense—that's where the biggest crowd is…!"
"I'd recommend starting with the auditorium hall."
"Tch."
Elia clicked her tongue quietly. With this many people swarming the Plaza, it was impossible to inspect anything properly—nothing to be done about it. We had to cover every corner eventually, so starting with the hall wasn't a bad plan.
She shot me a sidelong glance of pure disappointment, but I paid it no mind and turned my steps toward the auditorium.
Though, Professor Elia—you'd be bounding around excitedly even in the hall anyway.
And just as I expected, heading to the auditorium did nothing to dampen her eager spirits.
"Oh, Professor Niger, look at this. A potion made by a second-year student, apparently—a Truth Potion. They say it stops you from being able to lie for five whole minutes after you drink it. Care to try it?"
"No. I shall pass."
The moment I drank a truth potion, I might very well find myself reaching for my Mace to destroy the evidence.
"Hmm… then how about this one here? It's labeled a potion of affection—apparently whoever drinks it is compelled to confess to the person they hold the most fondness for. Hee, you alchemy students really do make the most interesting things~"
"I'll decline anything that tampers with emotions. No—wait, no. And don't you drink it yourself either, Professor Elia."
While answering her, I kept a fairly diligent eye on our surroundings. I wanted to enjoy myself, but a nagging anxiety kept rising up and making me frantic.
And in the middle of it all, her constant air of being about to do something reckless made me want to scream. Any other day, I'd have found it nothing but cute—clearly, I was a bit distracted today too.
"Tch, what's the point of having fun stuff around and refusing to enjoy any of it?"
"Professor Elia, there will be plenty of time to enjoy things later. Our purpose, for the moment, is our purpose."
Five minutes into our stroll under the pretext of patrol, and she was already doing nothing but smiling blissfully. I envied her a little. If I knew nothing, I too would be wearing a happy smile.
"Aww, that's cheating—pointing it out like that."
Elia said it with a sullen face, tapping the floor with the tip of her shoe and sneaking glances at me over and over.
"…You really should enjoy yourself a little."
That's even more like cheating.
"Yay! Then let's start with this!"
She leapt into the air with delight at my words. When had she picked something up? Before I knew it, she'd placed something on my head.
"Hehe, mm~ Handsome really does suit you in anything."
"…"
I didn't need to check what she'd put on my head. Elia beamed at me in satisfaction, then promptly fixed a dog-ear headband onto her own hair as well.
No.
This is driving me insane. Genuinely.
Doing my best to hold my smile in place, I ground the words out.
"…Professor Elia."
"Yes? What is it?"
"You are ridiculous."
"Oh, come on~ It's a festival. You're supposed to enjoy it."
Please think of your position and your age before you enjoy yourself.
And so, thanks to Elia's earnest pleading, I spent the entire rest of the day wearing the headband. Whenever the urge to take it off crept in and I asked about it slyly, she would pull that same quick-witted, wounded-puppy pout, every single time.
I have no idea who kept calling me the dog, but the puppies I used to know must all be dead.
Perhaps the problem was that, for all my vigilance, everything around us was simply too peaceful.
Humoring Elia's chatter while my eyes swept ceaselessly across every corner—that much, at least, counted as justification.
And an atmosphere so tranquil it made my unease look utterly absurd.
I had a feeling this mood was the reason for it.
Every student we passed gave me sidelong looks, faces full of what on earth am I seeing. Even through all the din, I could catch their whispers. Kind of cute was one thing, but remembering their professor's usual bearing, it was the word bizarre that stung the most.
Still, I kept my silence behind a smile.
I found it bizarre myself—what could I possibly say?
And then, inevitably, Bellatrix came face to face with me in this sorry state. Her expression upon seeing me was, frankly, magnificent.
"…Professor. My, what… splendid bearing. A true… exemplar of the dignified professor. I might even award extra points for that expression—one that can't quite manage a smile despite wearing dog ears."
"…This is not by choice."
"Of course it isn't. I respect the professor's tastes, so I shall accept it graciously."
For someone claiming to respect my tastes, she was radiating an extraordinary amount of disrespect. If I dared to read her heart, the message on her face was clear: the next time a lecture displeases me, today's story comes out.
"Lady Bellatrix, the thing I asked you for—"
"But of course. Seeing the professor like this only strengthens my resolve to try even harder."
This life. Honestly.
And so Wednesday, and then Thursday, passed without incident—nothing like my fears. And if my prediction held, Friday arrived, the long-awaited day the terror attack would strike.
From the moment I woke that morning and headed for the Academy, I offered up something resembling a prayer.
Let today's terror be stopped without harm. Let no misfortune befall the people who've grown close to me. And if I've gotten something wrong, let my worry turn out to be nothing but baseless fear.
I recited all of it to Elohim, a god I didn't believe in.
My insides had been smoldering ever since I opened my eyes that morning. A cheap guilt lay coated across the floor of me. That mere words from my imagination—nothing but fiction—had become reality, and how uneasy that left me.
Perhaps being possessed into this body had made me a little too comfortable. I'd consoled myself with the fact that I could hold Niger back at my discretion, and turned away from the situation now made real.
Only now, with the moment closing in on me, did I finally understand: because I'd built my world carelessly, half-thought-through, there was nothing I could step forward and prevent.
Well. It was pointless lamentation. Friday had already begun, and I was already too late.
Friday evening bled into twilight, and the clocktower pointed to seven o'clock.
Not from the center of the Plaza where I stood—but from its far edge, an explosion rang out, loud enough to seize every ear.
Screams began to ripple through the crowd one by one, matching the roar of the blast breath for breath.
And through it all, I stood alone, watching the situation unfold—then, dazed, set my steps toward that rising column of smoke.
Toward the very direction I had sent her—the Bellatrix who had nodded at my request.