A Devil Lives in the Academy (3)
After the lecture ended, I faced Scarlett.
That is to say, the moment the students filed out and I was tidying up my lecture materials, she came strolling right up to my desk.
"Inspector, did you have something left to say to me?"
"Ah, yes. There are a few things I'm curious about. So—would you happen to have a moment?"
I wanted to say I didn't.
I wanted to spit out that my schedule was booked solid from here to eternity and I couldn't possibly squeeze her in.
But.
I had absolutely nothing to do.
In truth, once Monday's and Friday's lectures were over, I was a man with zero obligations. Strictly speaking, Niger had been brought in as a special lecturer for Sacred Arts—nothing more. There was no research I was expected to pursue in my spare time, no reason whatsoever to punch out at a set hour.
The only reason I showed up to work every day and dutifully watched the clock was so I could leave together with Elia. With nothing to occupy me, I would stare blankly at a book until six, or park myself in the lecture hall to watch Elia teach and let the hours idle away.
So when a woman like that asked if I had time—
"...Yes. Shall we continue this at one of the cafés on campus, then?"
"Yes, that suits me fine."
I had no choice but to nod.
A café on campus.
Honestly, given how vast the Academy grounds were and how thoroughly stocked with every amenity imaginable, a café hardly warranted mention. Restaurants of every variety lined the walkways, and there was a gym and training halls for the students' health, a cinema and instrument rooms for their hobbies—there was even a PC bang, if you could believe it.
Why a PC bang, you ask?
Exactly.
I added it because I like games. I never realized how jarringly out of place a PC room would look in a fantasy world.
Anyhow, setting the digressions aside, I turned my gaze to the woman seated across from me. Slurping coffee with a haggard face, she was the very portrait of an office worker wilting under the weight of her job.
Come to think of it, the Inspectorate was the kind of department where finding a day without overtime would have been the harder task. It was a rather pitiable sight, in its way.
So, quietly, I raised a hand and chanted.
Fatigue Recovery
Divinity flowed out and settled over her, and Scarlett stared at me with wide eyes. The dark circles beneath her lashes had faded somewhat, and color was returning to her cheeks.
"...?"
"You looked exhausted, so I cast a Fatigue Recovery spell on you. I hope that wasn't presumptuous?"
"Mm, no. I didn't know a spell like that even existed. I'm grateful, of course."
At that, I smiled.
"This is a power granted by Elohim. There is no need to thank me."
"Ah. Elohim. Right."
She nodded along promptly enough, but she couldn't quite hide the look of visceral distaste that flickered across her face in the meantime.
Excellent.
Just as predicted.
So we're going with the deranged fanatic angle, then.
Praising Elohim as though I were so madly devoted to Him that nothing else in the world even registered to my eyes.
And as I was entertaining that thought, Niger's voice drifted into my head.
[Do not blaspheme Elohim.]
Annoyance dripping from his voice, from his very tone.
Well, look at that.
If even the genuine fanatic took the bait from my indiscriminate provocations, there was no way an Inspector would ever suspect me of being the killer.
"Indeed. Elohim is omniscient and omnipotent—is it not He who deigns to grant even such sacred powers as this?"
"Mm, well... I suppose that's why the Order stands so firmly as the state religion of the Empire."
Scarlett offered a suitably noncommittal nod, humoring me.
"Precisely. Her Majesty the Emperor herself acknowledges the blessings that Elohim bestows—which can only mean an age of peace and prosperity for the Empire."
"...That is true enough. Which brings me to what I wished to ask. I've heard that it was you, Professor Niger, who resolved the two incidents that occurred here at the Academy."
There it is.
That's right, Elohim—take the fall for this.
"Yes, that's correct. I would say I sensed a wicked aura from them—the sort that comes of not believing in Elohim. They were positively blasphemous individuals."
"Mm... Yes. I see."
"Ah, by the way, Inspector—you work for the fine institution known as the Imperial Inspectorate, so I imagine you come into contact with criminals quite often?"
"I do, but..."
Well then, you see—
"Then how would you feel about placing your faith in Elohim? Those brimming with divinity find it far easier to sense foul and treacherous airs."
How about a taste of Elohim, Inspector?
He's the kind of lord who grants you divinity even if your faith is half-hearted, and who forgives outright murder so long as you're devout.
I said all this with a serene smile.
[...]
"..."
Inspector Scarlett Brahe ultimately failed to hide her look of utter revulsion.
For the next several days, she kept coming to find me. Usually she'd approach while I was reading in the library, or sidle up mid-conversation while I was talking with Bellatrix.
"Professor Elo—ahem. Professor Niger, good to see you."
"Ah, yes. Inspector. Have you found any trace of a suspicious individual?"
Did she just call me Professor Elohim?
Perhaps my brainwashing was actually taking hold.
As expected of Elohim.
[Elohim is not someone you may traffic in so carelessly, Brother. You will face true divine retribution.]
Whatever do you mean?
When have I ever praised Elohim this enthusiastically in my life?
And besides, I received my divine punishment the moment I got transmigrated into a serial killer's body, didn't I?
Elohim, you absolute son of a bitch.
And so, as I alternated between hymns of praise and curses for Elohim, Scarlett's voice cut in.
"No, I haven't found anyone suspicious yet."
"Ah, then perhaps you might consider believing in Elo—"
"I'm quite all right. Well then, I'm busy, so I'll be going. My lady, until next time."
She cut me off and walked away at speed.
And Bellatrix, who had been standing quietly beside me, asked with a look of pure disgust:
"...Professor, are you doing this on purpose? Lately it's been nothing but one bizarre stunt after another—cursing like a dockhand, calling yourself a lewd saint..."
"Shh. I am a faithful priest of the Elohim Order, Sister."
"Honestly, the drivel that comes out of you."
Bellatrix sighed, looking thoroughly sick of me, and I simply smiled.
Elohim really does deliver.
Several days had passed since I'd arrived at the Academy.
After dinner, I returned to my room alone and picked up the Communication Mana Stone. A few rings sounded, then the voice on the other end came through—along with the sight of someone so slovenly he hadn't even washed his face.
"Reporting in."
- Oh. Yeah.
The face of the Inspector General filled the stone's light.
"..."
That half-hearted a reply—it made me want to just skip the report altogether.
- Ah, sorry. It's just, when you make that face, it's a little scary. Want to try smiling nicely?
"Save the bullshit for when you're home alone, sir, and take my report."
- Oh... yeah, sure.
I regarded the Inspector General with a look of pure contempt, then continued.
"I haven't been able to identify the suspicious party yet. It's possible our initial assumption was wrong from the start. And with exam season upon us, the timing seems poor as well."
- Hmm. Didn't your last report say you'd be focusing surveillance on a priest called Niger Caritas? What about that priest?
Niger Caritas.
Hm.
"Well... he's certainly not ordinary, but he's an extremely passionate Sacred Arts professor."
- That's it?
"Ah, well, he does seem rather fanatical too. I spoke with him a few times, and I must have heard the word 'Elohim' thirty times in a single conversation."
- Ugh... this is why religious types are such a pain to deal with. You can't get a single word of sense out of them.
"Isn't that religious discrimination, sir?"
- As long as the religious folks don't hear it, it isn't.
I'm writing all of this down, by the way. I might send it along to the Elohim Order the next time you irritate me—
- I can tell exactly what you're thinking just from your face, so kindly quit planning that sort of thing.
"I wasn't thinking anything at all, sir."
- Yeah, right. So—the mace. Did you see it?
The Inspector General heaved a deep sigh and steered the conversation back on track.
The mace.
"The mace... mm. I did see him swinging one around during his lecture..."
- What, was there a problem with it? Was he hopelessly clumsy?
"No, his skill was quite impressive, actually. It's simply... difficult to imagine that priest being the killer who's been cracking criminals' skulls open."
- What's that supposed to mean now?
"He may be a fanatic who worships nothing but Elohim, but he's always smiling, and he's rather handsome, too. Comparing him to you would be an insult to him, sir."
That's right—no amount of bonus points will ever change the fact that the Inspector General is ugly.
Sensing my inner thoughts, the Inspector General bristled and raised his voice.
- Hey, now. I only look like this because work has ground me down! All I have to do is show my face at a social gathering and the young ladies go absolutely wild for me!
"I'm sure they go wild, sir. The head of the Imperial Inspectorate suddenly appearing before them—who among the young ladies wouldn't be terrified out of her wits?"
- You little—
Ugly men really do fly into a rage the moment you call them ugly.
So thinking, I cut him off.
"Perhaps wash your face once in a while before you speak, sir. Besides, I wouldn't know the first thing about the atmosphere at those social gatherings. I've never once attended one."
- Look at you, a proper young lady who's never even been to a single gathering. What have you been doing with yourself?
"Working, sir."
You rotten, good-for-nothing excuse for a superior.
Maybe think about the sheer volume of work you dump on me before you say things like that.
I swallowed the retort and sighed, then forced out my final words to wrap up the report.
"In any case—you know what to do if it bothers you. Either come to the Academy yourself and play watchdog, or get back to your own work, sir."
- Hey, you little—!
I severed the connection and hurled the mana stone clear across the room.
The stone bounced off the floor and buzzed insistently, whining over and over, but I shut my eyes.
It was time to sleep.
Hm.
Come to think of it—while I'm stationed here investigating the Academy, there's no overtime at all.
How convenient.