Classes and Daily Life (4)
Familiar faces visible from inside the guest house. The servants I'd seen before, when I came with Professor Biern, were bustling about busily.
"There may be some noise due to visitors from outside, but we ask for your understanding."
Since this place was originally for guests from outside, quite a few cadets had complaints. It was farther from the main dorms, and there was this inexplicable gaze from the surroundings. Just looking at the colorful foreigners peering down curiously from the second-floor balcony made it clear their stares weren't exactly welcoming. East Asians and Westerners, and even a rare Black person from the far south. Most were visitors from other academies here on an exchange program.
As I said, Arsen was the top of the three great academies. No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the blatant stares from all directions were impossible to shake off. They felt almost like they were scouting us out.
When I came before, I was with the faculty, and our group was small enough not to draw attention. Now, with dozens of cadets swarming the guest house, eyes were bound to turn.
"What the hell are those guys?"
"Yeah, why are they staring like that?"
Some cadets scowled, clearly annoyed by the looks. For now, with the homeroom teacher leading us, no real trouble would erupt, but the signs of conflict were already there.
That's why the teacher added a word of caution.
"This area does not fall under Arsen's rules. If you cause any trouble here, you won't be punished as Arsen cadets—you'll be dealt with according to Hunter Association regulations."
Naturally, the cadets looked uneasy. In other words, though inside Arsen, this was effectively an extraterritorial zone exempt from Arsen's rules. Like a foreign embassy, say. Even Arsen cadets were treated as full-fledged hunters while staying here, subject to hunter-level punishments.
Start trouble here, and you could get expelled from Arsen outright. And expulsion would be the lucky part—afterward, you'd face Hunter Association investigations and penalties.
So most cadets tried not to stir up problems inside the guest house. The visiting cadets from outside did the same.
But there was one loophole. These rules only applied inside the guest house.
The original story had minor incidents where cadets exploited this. Like throwing stones from outside the guest house. In that case, even if the culprit was a resident cadet, since the trouble happened outside, they'd get Arsen's protection.
They'd slyly slip through the cracks alone.
Conversely, guest house residents sometimes abused it too—picking fights within Arsen grounds, then retreating inside. The pissed-off Arsen cadets would storm over, fuming, but couldn't cause a ruckus indoors. Even Arsen cadets lost their protections inside, so they couldn't act rashly.
It sounded childish, but surprisingly, it happened. Kyle getting into a fistfight with a cadet from another academy was a prime example.
"You'll be staying on the third floor of the guest house. Once more: any incidents here mean no protection as Arsen cadets. Please be especially careful."
The homeroom teacher left with a final stern warning. The cadets scowled like they'd bitten into something bitter, but their faces would relax the moment they saw their assigned rooms.
Of course, Shanellia Hall's facilities were nice, but this place represented Arsen's first impression to the outside world—lavishly designed and elegant. Compared to dorms, it was like the difference between a studio apartment and a luxury hotel suite.
Too bad it was only temporary, until dorm repairs finished.
I, for one, had no desire to come here. Not with people like Assistant Professor Exion and Professor Biern hanging around—folks I had zero interest in dealing with.
Biern would soon move to his lab, which was better, but Exion's plans were unclear. In the original story, he was just some passing assistant, but from recent encounters, he didn't seem ordinary.
Especially since my Sense went haywire whenever he was near—that was proof enough.
Like the saying about clear-eyed madmen, there was this eerie dissonance every time I saw him.
The problem? Exion wasn't highlighted much in the original, so public info on him was scarce.
That's why I'd sent a short message to my family back home, whom I usually avoided contacting.
Head butler Sebastian didn't pry further. He just accepted the order matter-of-factly.
I pressed the watch firmly to end the comms app. The icon vanished from the screen.
It was Esperand-exclusive tech, so entering the code every time was a hassle, but nothing was safer.
I was lounging on the sofa, lost in a wave of nostalgia, when—
Knock knock.
A knock at the door. I didn't bother responding. If it was a maid, she'd come back later; anyone else had the wrong room. No reply, and they'd leave soon.
Creeeak. Click.
But then a key slid into the lock, and the door swung open.
I shot up from the sofa like I'd been launched. Had they caught me using an unregistered app? Like a thief jumping at his own shadow.
Tense, I eyed the door. There stood a red-haired second-year senior I'd seen before.
"...You're staying here?"
"Lady Rebecca."
Not a maid, not faculty—just a single cadet. That made it even more concerning. Arsen might not notice, but Grander would. With our families' close ties, they knew Esperand methods well.
Rebecca entered without a word from me. Pure student council president tyranny—no need to ask permission, her haughty demeanor said.
Probably how Kyle felt in the original story.
"What brings you here in the middle of the night?"
"I had business nearby and stopped by."
Fine, but what business? I swallowed the question.
Rebecca scanned the room like she'd been formally invited.
"......"
Her gaze on the furnishings was sharp. Meticulous, thorough.
I'd seen that look long ago.
...Not sure if I should say this, but it was exactly like a Korean auntie eyeing produce at the mart.
Finishing her inspection, Rebecca tossed out a casual bomb.
"Even so, you earned merit in the dorm incident, yet they give you this after taking your room?"
"Pardon?"
"Third floor's for outside guests. Arsen probably just handed over an empty room, but even accounting for that, this treatment is absurd."
I was still processing, but Rebecca ignored me entirely. She propped her chin, glanced at the window, then lightly touched the wallpaper.
Rebecca just tapped it. But the spot sank in.
Hidden by curtains—I hadn't noticed—but apparently a water leak somewhere.
"Sion Illeonhart, you made the biggest contribution in that dorm mess, not that first-year. Why didn't you report it up the chain?"
"I judged it unnecessary."
"Why?"
"I entered under false pretenses. No need to draw extra attention."
For a split second, Rebecca's brow twitched.
I was just puzzled. Our encounter at enrollment ended with me tipping her off about the artifact, and I had no plans to cross paths again until the first arc's finale.
"I can't understand it. Everyone's blinded by credits and honors, but you have zero interest?"
What Rebecca meant was: the reward didn't match my merit. The "first-year" she lumped in was probably Kyle Ivanstair.
Looked like things were proceeding as in the original—Kyle successfully pissing off the student council.
Rebecca spared no favors for those she liked. But she was ruthless to those she didn't. That was her issue—and hers alone.
I'd planned to check the student council anyway, to confirm things were on track. Her coming here saved me the trip.
My answer was always the same.
"Yes."
My goal: stop the final boss, then live comfortably after. That's why I entered Arsen. Grades didn't matter much to me, unlike the others. Just graduate decently, and I'm good.
Overachieving would harm the protagonists. Arsen pushed talented cadets hard—invites to events, chairman recommendation letters post-graduation.
Those spots belonged to Kyle and the world's leads, not me.
I'm the one who needs Kyle Ivanstair to take down the final boss. Only then can I live easy.
So I took just enough not to get in their way. Past, present, future.
As long as Lara, Iri, Kyle, Essili, and the rest grew strong, that was plenty.
"......"
Rebecca clearly didn't get it. Probably saw me as some cheeky optimist viewing the world through rose-tinted glasses.
Her gaze on me was always the same blank mask.
But not this time.
Brows furrowed. Lips pressed thin. Fists clenched at her sides.
Then, glaring up at me, she declared:
"That won't do."
Those were my habitual words.