Where Banned Items Gather (2)

A thin crescent moon hung faintly in the sky.

Even that sliver of light kept getting swallowed by thick, drifting clouds, making this night darker than usual.

And a dark night like this was perfect hunting weather for thieves.

Black figures gathered before a large statue near the Old School Building. They wore nothing but black and had masks pulled over their faces.

I was among them, of course.

I recognized Dang Gyu-young right away by her slender silhouette. After all, no one else here knew my face to begin with.

The two male students seemed to be twins—even masked, their builds and mannerisms were practically identical. There was a girl busily tapping away at a tablet, and a boy with a very short wand strapped to his arm. As for the boy practically radiating frivolity from every pore, a closer look revealed him to be Shin Byung-cheol.

They exchanged glances and little nods with each other, so apparently they could tell who was who even behind the masks.

I, on the other hand, was a complete stranger to them, and one of the twins, puzzled, asked:

“Big Sis, there's one weird one mixed in here. Who's this?”

“Someone who's helping with tonight's job. Watch your manners.”

“Hmm...”

The twins didn't look entirely convinced, but they nodded their assent all the same.

The fewer people who knew about the Life Cube's existence and capabilities, the better. If anyone's mouth ran loose, even the items meant to be stored inside it could be put at risk.

So for now, my cover identity was set: a mysterious expert invited by Dang Gyu-young.

“Well met, well met! Looking forward to working with you tonight.”

Shin Byung-cheol bobbed his head in a bow and winked one eye. Judging by the way he'd come back, and the glimpse of face visible around the mask, he'd apparently figured out it was me.

That fellow was sharp in his own way, and he owed me a debt, so he wouldn't let it slip out of his mouth.

Dang Gyu-young asked the girl with the tablet.

“How many minutes left?”

At the question, her typing sped up. Numbers crowded densely across the tablet screen as if she were running calculations, while her eyes stayed fixed on the sky—or more precisely, on the moon.

“Three minutes.”

“Good. Everyone get ready.”

One by one, we gave our equipment a final check or drew our mana up to a boil.

I exchanged a covert look with Dang Gyu-young. Her shadow squirmed and traced out letters.

'Just do exactly what I briefed you on.'

I'd received a separate briefing beforehand. Even if they handled every response on their own, I needed to have a grasp of how we'd get in and how we'd get out, or mistakes would happen.

Having committed all of it to memory, my role tonight amounted to one thing: follow along quietly and cause no trouble.

Isn't that the beauty of riding the bus?

As the three minutes the tablet girl had mentioned drew near, the gathering clouds swallowed the moon completely.

'Go.'

Shadow surged out of Dang Gyu-young and formed a dome, and everyone crowded inside its bounds at once. The shadow clung to our bodies, layering our concealment even deeper.

Even up close we could barely make out each other's silhouettes; at any distance, we'd be impossible to identify.

The Thief Club immediately set off at a run behind Dang Gyu-young. A whole crowd of people sprinting, yet not a single footstep, not even the whisper of a hem.

Running alongside them, I studied Dang Gyu-young's legs. Her footwork, to be exact.

'B-rank, all right.'

Thief's Step—the signature movement skill of rogue-class users. It quickens and silences the stride, with an additional bonus when moving through darkness. At her level—third year and a club president on top of it—B-rank came easily.

Now that the Cube was finished, I wouldn't be needing Magic Engineering for a while.

The moment I began moving with Thief's Step, several pairs of eyes in the group locked onto me. By their standards my footsteps must have been quite loud, and then—in the space of a few strides—they'd turned into a flawless thief's step. No wonder they found it remarkable.

But once I kept my eyes forward and just ran, they must have decided they couldn't spare the attention either, because the stares withdrew.

As the Old School Building drew near, students wearing Disciplinary Committee armbands began to appear here and there, patrolling at set intervals from one another. Covering the interior and exterior of a building that size with Committee personnel alone was bound to leave gaps.

According to the Thief Club's informants, the route we were running was one of the relatively weak points—because the patrol here had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a high proportion of first-years.

“Hum~ hum-hum-hum~”

Han So-mi strolled along with a lilt in her step, humming like she was out for a night walk. She didn't notice us pass at all.

There was one more first-year on patrol: a young aristocrat's face, topped with an eye-catching golden sword. Geum Johan, the First Prince of the Golden Lotus.

Of all people, his patrol route happened to cross our path. But no one slowed their pace.

Dang Gyu-young at the front gathered her power.

Shadow Butterfly Flight

Butterflies of shadow took to the air. One fluttered over and alighted, soft as a whisper, on Geum Johan's shoulder.

“!!”

Before he could even half-draw his sword, shadow exploded out of the butterfly. It swallowed him whole, binding him tight as a silkworm in a cocoon.

One of the twins pressed a hand to his body.

“Mmmph—mmph—”

“Come along nicely, now. Struggling just tires us both out.”

The other twin kneaded empty air like clay. A moment later, an exact duplicate of Geum Johan formed and began trotting along the patrol route without a hitch. He looked noticeably dimmer than the original, but by the time that showed, the job would be long finished.

As for the real Geum Johan, still wrapped in his bindings, they shoved him into a corner.

They left the duplicate to do his rounds, and the whole crew pressed themselves against the Old School Building's outer wall. When the wand boy chanted a spell, circular steps stacked themselves one atop another, reaching all the way to a third-floor window. We climbed quickly, and at the window he set about dismantling the magic arrays adhered to the glass.

“Geez, they really went overboard with the alarm magic.”

Since he was paying it compliments of the highest order, the Committee must have done their job well. It got broken through in the end, though.

Once every array had vanished, Shin Byung-cheol neatly peeled the window out of its frame, and we slipped inside.

The Temporary Confiscation Storage was located in Practice Room D on the third floor of the Old School Building. This was Practice Room A. The barriers and spells layered over D were said to be several times denser, making entry through the window impossible—so the plan was to infiltrate through A and move along the corridor to the target.

“Intrud—!”

The moment a patrolling Committee member spotted us, right before he could shout 'Intruders!', Dang Gyu-young cut off the sound and the twins swarmed him. In a one-on-one the Committee man would have won easily, but caught in a surprise attack and outnumbered to boot, he was subdued before he could show half of what he had.

While the twins fashioned a duplicate of their captive, the tablet girl hammered away at her screen, eyes fixed on the crystal orbs casting views of the corridor.

“Done.”

That 'done' meant she'd neutralized every one of the orbs.

The wand boy cleared the magical traps, Shin Byung-cheol the mundane ones, and we pressed onward without pause.

'Even a worm will wriggle, I suppose.'

Shin Byung-cheol's proficiency and speed at dismantling traps rivaled the second- and third-years'. That was why he'd been included in a party otherwise packed with elites. I nudged my mental evaluation of him up a hair.

B-grade talent—strictly limited to trap disposal. Would I bother raising him for it? Absolutely not. Next to Seo Ye-in, he was a firefly beside the moon.

“......”

One more corner, and we'd be at Practice Room D—the Temporary Confiscation Storage.

But when Dang Gyu-young extended a small mirror to peek around the bend, a curse slipped out of her.

“Ugh, this one's a real problem.”

“Who is it?”

She handed the mirror over, and I angled it for a look. A male student stood guard directly in front of the storage. Disciplinary Committee armband, third-year tie pin—and in his hands, a thick axe wreathed in a crimson glow.

I didn't know which senior that was, but I knew that item on sight.

The A-rank axe, Infernal Axe.

If a third-year Committee ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠member had come armed with that, it made sense that even Dang Gyu-young would find him a hard opponent. I'd been planning to stand by with my hands behind my back the whole time, but there was nothing for it—I'd have to lend a hand.

“Shadow Butterfly's Dream. You can use it, right?”

“? How do you know about that?”

Dang Gyu-young flinched in surprise. How did I know? Because I raised it, that's how.

“Later. Can you use it?”

“Haven't fully learned it yet. It's only C-rank.”

“Perfect, then.”

“?”

At A-rank, it might just be enough.

Dang Gyu-young's eyes went wide all over again.

“What—what did you just do?”

“No time. Let's move.”

“......”

She seemed to accept the no-time part, because she shut her mouth for now—though the look on her face promised she'd be demanding answers later, without fail.

Dang Gyu-young brought her hands together. Shadow butterflies gathered above them, one, then two—and in an instant the swarm had swollen to dozens. She released them all at once.

Shadow Butterfly's Dream

“!”

The third-year Committee man reacted instantly. He swung the Infernal Axe like a madman, and a third of the oncoming swarm was split in half and scattered. One butterfly struck his body and detonated—the burst of shadow wrapped around him—

“Hah!”

—one battle cry and it unraveled, dispersing into nothing. A form of anti-binding warding woven into his gear, the kind warriors wear into battle.

But the butterflies kept coming, two and three at a time, clinging and constricting, until what he tore away mattered less than what piled on. At last he disappeared beneath the vast shadow of the cocoon.

Exhausted to the bone, Dang Gyu-young turned to me.

“Y-you. Talk to me later. In private.”

“Sure thing.”

I steadied her for a moment as she swayed, but she recovered her strength almost immediately and took point again.

The door to the Temporary Confiscation Storage stood wide open, but the Thief Club entered meticulously, examining even the tiniest devices nearby. Touch a single alarm spell by accident, and it would all be over.

Only once the area was fully secured did they begin sweeping the banned items into their inventories.

“Grab everything you need, quick, and let's move.”

“Yes, Big Sis.”

Dang Gyu-young and I exchanged another glance. I opened the Life Cube, and she plucked out only the choicest items and dropped them inside.

'Guess it's my turn to do some shopping.'

I began rummaging through the mountain of banned items.

Exactly what was here I'd have to see for myself, but the categories of banned items were more or less fixed. The academy's single biggest criterion for its ban list was side effects: how great a price came attached to the power gained.

Take Dark Arts Tomes: they let you grow explosively strong in a short time, but the more you absorbed them, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the more your mind soaked in demonic energy, with a high chance of turning you into a villain. The Dark Ice Crystal I'd gotten on the train boosted your mana reserves enormously in one go—but if you couldn't endure its cold, you'd freeze to the marrow the instant you swallowed it.

Anything that damages body or mind like that gets designated a banned item, and the greater and more permanent the damage, the higher it tends to sit on the list. Nearly everything in this room, big or small, came with a penalty attached.

And what I was after were banned items carrying elemental penalties—things like the Dark Ice Crystal. Because almost any elemental penalty could be nullified outright by my S-rank Elemental Resistance.

'First, one of these.'

Heart Thunder Jade ×2

Two lumpy orbs that looked as if a lightning bolt had been forcibly crammed inside. The situation wasn't right for using them now, so I tucked them into the Life Cube.

I kept digging through the mountain, but unfortunately no more elemental-penalty items turned up. Digging deeper would eat time I didn't have, so better to look elsewhere.

'Skill books.'

That was the main reason I'd come. A place crammed with banned items was bound to hold at least one or two skill books with elemental penalties.

They wouldn't be easy to find either, it turned out. The very first skill book on top was a dud.

[Skill Book — Asura Blood Demonic Art]

Learn this and the blood demonic energy would seep into your very marrow, until you went mad. A one hundred percent guaranteed future villain. What kind of lunatic with guts of steel smuggled this in, I couldn't imagine—it must have been monstrously hard to get ahold of, too.

[Skill Book — Necrograsp]

A necromancer's close-combat skill that rots everything it grabs. The big drawback: each use slowly rots the caster's own hand as well.

'Elemental penalty, elemental penalty...'

Chanting the words in my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠head, I flipped through skill book after skill book—until at last I found a good one.

No. Not merely good. This was close to a jackpot.

[Skill Book — Inferno Fist]