I Put the Beastman Junior in My Squad
Even after I left the research lab with the words “Survive,” the sensation of burning paper still lingered on my fingertips. The smell of Noah Arken’s research notebook as it burned. The scent of ink, paper, and mana catalyst mixing together and charring black. That smell clung to my hand far longer than I expected. No matter how much I shook my gloves, it refused to disappear.
“...This feels disgusting.”
I muttered quietly as I climbed the underground stairs of the Magic Department. There was no sense that I had done anything good. I had burned one research project and earned the hatred of one genius junior. Noah Arken would probably spend tonight organizing magic formulas capable of killing me. She wouldn’t charge in emotionally—that wasn’t her style—but she would try to dismantle me with logic. That was fine. Whether she hated me, researched me, or tried to kill me didn’t matter. At least tonight she would not complete the forbidden spell. She would not become a monster.
I stopped at the top of the stairs. Outside it was still night. The moon hung above the academy’s central spire, and from the distant Combat Department came the faint ringing of bells signaling preparations for night training.
Ding. Ding.
The moment I heard that sound, the next event rose in my mind.
It’s not over yet.
Tonight was not only Noah’s night. Night training. The third district. The assignment roster. And Mila Lupus. The beastman junior from the arena.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
In the original story, Mila Lupus appeared only very briefly in the early stages. A beastman student who spoke little, watched her surroundings constantly, and moved faster than anyone. Her combat instincts were outstanding, yet she always seemed to stand apart from her group. The reason was simple. Because she was a beastman. Because she came from the arena. No matter how prestigious the academy was, it was not a place where discrimination disappeared. It was simply hidden behind more refined manners. They did not strike her openly. Instead they refused to sit at the same table. During missions they pushed her to the rear. If she failed they called it barbaric arena behavior; if she succeeded they laughed and said of course a beast is good with her body. That was how it went.
Mila could not endure it any longer and abandoned her group during night training. No one stopped her. No one searched for her. And that night she was torn apart by a Maheun monster in the forest on the academy’s outskirts and died.
In the game that scene had been quite brutal. Beast footprints left on the dirt floor. A torn academy uniform. And a blood-stained student ID.
When that name appeared on the screen I could not press any button for a long time.
“...It’s tonight.”
I let out a short breath. The night Mila dies. To be exact, the night when, in the original work, Mila first resolves to desert.
I had already changed the night training roster. I had pulled Liah and Mila out of the dangerous third district. That should have lowered the immediate chance of death. But it was not enough. Mila’s death route did not occur simply because one district was dangerous. She runs away. Not because it is dangerous, but because she believes no one will try to stop her.
Then I will have to stop her.
Of course I could not stop her with kind words. The moment I said something like “Mila, it is because I want to protect you,” it would be over. Mila would not believe it. Children raised in the arena suspect sweet words first. They know that the kindest master attaches the most expensive collar.
So there was only one method. The Kyle Rowen way. In the worst possible manner.
I turned my steps toward the administrative building. There was not much time left before night training departure. The training group assignment list had already been distributed, but with assistant instructor authority I could apply a “Temporary Auxiliary Placement.” It was originally a regulation for separately managing the injured, problem students, and surveillance targets. Kyle Rowen knew these regulations very well. Unfortunately.
The lights were still on in the assistant instructor office of the administrative building. On nights with training the responsible assistants stayed late organizing equipment and lists.
When I opened the door and entered, the two Combat Department assistants inside turned to look at me at the same time. Their expressions stiffened at once.
“Senior Kyle Rowen.”
“What is it this time?”
This time. The word carried every ounce of their feelings.
Instead of answering I picked up the list on the desk.
“Night training second district rear support list.”
“Why that…”
“Mila Lupus.”
My fingertip pointed at one name.
“I’m moving this one to my group.”
The assistant instructor room fell silent. A few seconds later one assistant let out a hollow laugh.
“Mila Lupus?”
“Are your ears not working?”
“No, it’s not that… Why that student of all people?”
The other assistant spoke carefully. His tone was cautious, but his eyes already knew the answer.
“She is a student from the arena, so she is difficult to handle. If a problem occurs for no reason, even you, senior—”
“If I was afraid of problems, would I still be here?”
I picked up the pen. I wrote my name at the very bottom of the list.
“Is it possible under the regulations?”
“It is possible, but…”
“Then shut up.”
The assistants’ faces hardened. At that moment noise came from outside the door. The students participating in night training seemed to be gathering. The moment I moved Mila’s name, one assistant finally spoke.
“Senior.”
“What.”
“If you are planning to harass that student, you should stop.”
I paused with the pen. The assistant looked frightened after saying the words, yet he did not back down.
“Your reputation has grown even worse lately. The matter with Liah Belcross, the incident during Professor Seraphine’s lecture, and now rumors about the Noah Arken laboratory. If you forcibly drag a beastman student into your group on top of that…”
“What.”
I slowly raised my head.
“One more reason for expulsion?”
The assistant closed his mouth. I laughed.
“Good. The more the better, really.”
“Senior.”
“Mila Lupus is under my supervision starting today.”
I folded the list and slipped it into my pocket.
“If you have complaints, write a report. The title can be ‘Kyle Rowen Abuses Assistant Instructor Authority Again.’”
The assistants could say nothing more. I opened the door and stepped outside.
In the corridor the night training participants had gathered. Students were checking equipment or slipping protective talismans into their vests. A few lowered their voices the moment they saw me.
“It’s Kyle Rowen.”
“Looks like he’s about to cause trouble again.”
“Didn’t I just hear Mila’s name?”
“The beastman girl?”
Every gaze converged on one spot. At the end of the corridor a girl leaned against the wall. Grey-brown hair. Beast ears folded low among the strands. A worn but neatly kept uniform. Two training daggers hung at her waist.
Mila Lupus.
She kept her head lowered. But her ears were moving. She was listening to every sound around her. Two students deliberately bumped her shoulder as they passed.
“Move, you stink.”
Mila did not react. She simply took one step sideways.
“Is that how they taught you in the arena? To clear the way when people pass?”
Quiet laughter spilled out. I walked slowly toward that laughter. The students fell silent as I approached. When I stopped in front of Mila the entire corridor grew strangely quiet.
Mila finally lifted her head. Golden eyes. As clear as a beast’s, yet weariness had settled deep inside them. The look she gave me was not fear. It was wariness. And resignation.
She already knows.
This child had already drawn her conclusion about why I had come. Kyle Rowen. The failure of a senior. The villain who harasses juniors and abuses assistant instructor authority. When such a person says he is taking a beastman student from the arena into his own group, there is no way the reason could be normal.
“Mila Lupus.”
“...Yes.”
Her voice was small. But it did not tremble.
“Starting today you are in my training group.”
The surroundings stirred. Mila’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
“I was assigned to rear support for the second district.”
“It changed.”
“May I ask the reason?”
“I don’t feel like telling you.”
I waved the list in front of her.
“It is an assistant instructor’s order. Follow me.”
Low laughter spread among the students.
“Poor thing.”
“She’s been marked.”
“As expected, that senior’s tastes are also…”
Before the sentence finished I turned my head. The face of the student who had been laughing stiffened.
“What did you just say?”
“Ah, it was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing. Your tongue was moving perfectly.”
I took one step closer. The student retreated.
“You seem to have energy to spare before training. Good. I am reassigning you to equipment transport assistant for the third district.”
“What?”
“Any complaints?”
“No, I was just—”
“If you were just talking, you should pay the price.”
I spoke to the nearby assistant.
“Write that one’s name. Third district equipment transport. Add two protective shields.”
“But senior, that is—”
“Do not make me say it twice.”
The assistant wrote the name with obvious reluctance. The student’s face turned deathly pale. The surroundings grew even quieter.
Good. This should have been enough to look like a proper villain. And at the same time I had removed one of the bastards who had been harassing Mila first.
I looked at Mila again.
“What are you staring at.”
“...It is nothing.”
“Follow me.”
Mila stared at me for a moment, then quietly lowered her head.
“Yes, Assistant Instructor.”
While walking from the corridor toward the training ground she kept exactly three steps behind me. She did not come closer. The distance was not far enough for escape, yet awkward for an attack. Typical of someone from the arena. It was a distance learned with the body—never entrust your back to anyone.
I deliberately did not look back and spoke.
“Do not kill your footsteps.”
The presence behind me stopped.
“Yes?”
“During night training you need to know where your group members are. If you imitate an assassin it only gets in the way.”
The real reason—if you disappear it is annoying for me to search—I swallowed.
Mila remained silent a moment, then answered.
“Understood.”
After that her footsteps grew slightly louder. Even so they were still far quieter than an ordinary student’s.
When we reached the training ground I checked the temporary practice area. Rear support for the second district. The danger level was low. But it was not completely safe. The problem was not the district. It was the people. The reason Mila deserts is not Maheun monsters but humans.
I opened the equipment box and took out three protective talismans, two signal flares, and one mana restraint rope. Mila’s eyes stopped on the mana restraint rope. Her ears folded back a fraction. I saw the reaction and cursed inwardly.
The arena.
They had probably used something similar as a collar there.
I threw the mana restraint rope back into the box.
Bang.
Mila flinched.
“Won’t need it.”
“......”
“If you cannot follow on your own feet, I will tie you then.”
I spoke in the worst way on purpose. Mila’s expression did not change. But her ears rose slightly again.
I tossed the protective talismans to her. Mila caught them by reflex.
“Attach them to your chest, waist, and right thigh.”
“Three protective talismans for rear support is excessive.”
“I did not ask for your opinion.”
“The other students received only one each.”
“You are in my group.”
I closed the equipment box.
“If someone in my group dies my report gets longer. Do not make it annoying.”
Mila looked down at the talismans. For a very brief moment her eyes wavered. Just a moment.
“...Understood.”
She attached the talismans.
I opened the training plan sheet.
“Today your roles are three. First, do not leave my field of vision. Second, do not answer even if someone speaks to you. Third, do not think about running away.”
Mila’s fingertips stopped.
“Running away, you say.”
“The rumor that beastmen cannot lie was wrong.”
Her golden eyes turned toward me. For the first time the resignation vanished and wariness became sharp.
“I will not run away.”
“Then prove it.”
I pointed to the outer edge of the training ground.
“Three laps of outer patrol. Run. When my whistle sounds once, stop. Twice, lie down. Three times, return to me.”
“Right now?”
“Why. Does a beastman from the arena lack stamina too?”
A few students nearby laughed. Mila’s eyes sank low. She began to run without another word.
She was fast. Truly fast. Every time her toes brushed the ground her body slid low. The movement itself was different from ordinary students. It was not human swordsmanship or footwork but motion created purely to survive.
Yet problems were visible. She checked behind herself too often. Her left shoulder was slightly stiff. Her body stayed constantly ready to avoid an attack from behind. It was a survival habit, not training. In that state it would be difficult to endure group practice. She perceived even her allies’ movements as threats.
I put the whistle to my lips.
Tweet.
Mila stopped at once. The reaction was excessively quick.
“Late.”
Mila’s ears twitched. The surrounding students laughed again. I ignored them.
“Again.”
Mila ran again.
Tweet tweet.
Twice. She immediately lowered her body. She clung to the ground almost as if lying flat. It was a reflexive posture of covering her head.
I frowned. It looked closer to avoiding a beating than defensive training.
“Wrong.”
Mila slowly raised her head.
“You told me to lie down.”
“Did I tell you to lie down like you were going to die? Why did you fold your left arm? You made it so you cannot draw your dagger. If someone presses down from above it is over.”
“......”
“Again.”
Mila stood up.
Tweet tweet. This time she lowered her body while leaving her left arm free.
“Slow.”
Again.
Tweet. Stop.
“Your gaze is shaking.”
Again.
Tweet tweet tweet. Return.
“Too far.”
Again. Again. Again.
The training continued until the sun had completely set and the bell signaling night training departure rang. The surrounding students laughed at first, then watched with fed-up faces.
“That’s a bit too much…”
“Is he actually harassing her?”
“Why is he rolling her like that after sticking three talismans on her?”
“He’s probably doing it because she’s a beastman with good stamina.”
They were saying it loud enough for us to hear. I heard. Mila heard. Yet she did not stop. Every time the whistle sounded she moved. She reacted to commands, corrected her posture, and even when her breath reached her throat she never left my sight.
When the final return signal sounded Mila stopped in front of me. Her shoulders heaved. Sweat ran along her jawline. But she did not collapse.
I looked down at her.
“A complete mess.”
Mila answered while catching her breath.
“...I am sorry.”
“There is no need to be sorry. I never expected anything from you in the first place.”
The air around us grew cold. Several students made openly displeased faces. One of them muttered softly.
“His words are really harsh.”
I did not look that way. Instead I asked Mila.
“Are you scared of me?”
Mila’s eyes wavered. The question seemed unexpected; she could not answer at once. I took one step closer.
“Answer. Are you scared?”
Mila looked up at me. My figure reflected in her golden eyes. Black uniform. Black gloves. The academy’s failure of a senior. The villain who harasses juniors. Yet strangely Mila shook her head.
“...No.”
“Do not lie.”
“It is not a lie.”
She swallowed.
“It seems you dislike me, Assistant Instructor, but.”
“......”
“You do not seem scared of me.”
For a moment I was speechless. Mila did not avoid my gaze.
“When ordinary people look at me it is one of two things. Eyes that see something dirty, or eyes that fear they might get bitten.”
Her hand paused near her ears, then dropped at once.
“Assistant Instructor, you are neither.”
I remained silent a moment. This child’s senses were sharper than I thought. No, perhaps it was only natural. Someone who had survived amid discrimination had no choice but to be sensitive to the gazes directed at her. Disgust, fear, curiosity, exploitation—if you could not distinguish them you could not live long.
I twisted the corner of my mouth.
“Do not misunderstand.”
I spoke coldly on purpose.
“I simply dislike useless tools.”
Mila’s ears lowered a fraction. The surrounding students swallowed.
I did not stop.
“Tools are discarded when they break.”
Mila’s fingertips stiffened. I looked straight down at her.
“I will make sure you do not break.”
The moment those words ended, Mila’s eyes wavered very slightly. It was not anger. It was not fear. It was the face of someone who did not understand. No, someone who did not want to understand. As if a word she had thrown away long ago had suddenly been heard again from an unexpected place.
“...Why.”
She asked very quietly.
I did not answer. I could not answer. I could not say it was because you die tonight. I could not say I had seen the scene of you being torn apart in the forest. Telling her I had to save her so I could survive would be too cowardly.
I turned away.
“Night training begins. Follow me.”
Mila stood in place a moment, then quietly followed. This time it was not three steps. Two steps. She had come a little closer.
I pretended not to notice. And muttered only inside my head.
If we can just get through tonight.
Mila Lupus’s desertion death route. That first branching point. I thought I had blocked it.
It was then.
From the direction of the outer forest of the Combat Department an unscheduled signal flare rose. Red light. It was not the night training suspension signal. It was the danger occurrence signal.
I looked up. It was faster than the original. Far too fast.
Mila’s ears stood sharply. From inside the forest came a sound that was neither a beast’s cry nor a human scream.
A Maheun monster. Something that should not have appeared yet was already moving.
I gritted my teeth.
“Damn it.”
Mila asked quietly beside me.
“Assistant Instructor.”
“What.”
“That sound…”
I adjusted my black gloves.
“What you heard is correct.”
Beyond the forest a second scream erupted. This time it was a student’s voice.
Without turning to look at Mila I said.
“Do not leave my sight.”
And I drew my sword.
“If you do not want to break.”