Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: Rats on an Isolated Island (2)
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‘Explosion?’
I slipped spare bullets into my pocket and drew the gun from its holster.
By the time I came to my senses, we had already dashed down to the first-floor entrance, flung open the door, and were peering toward the source of the blast.
‘Should I switch my main weapon?’
The explosion had come from far away, so I couldn’t tell exactly what had happened from inside.
The threat’s position and distance were both unknown. My gun was easy to use but had a short barrel and poor accuracy.
It had been brought in for self-defense from the start, so its flaws were obvious.
If situations like this kept repeating, it was time to consider replacing it instead of sticking with the one I knew.
-Click.
Unlike usual when I only half-loaded it, this time I fully cocked the hammer.
Arthur saw me draw and ready my gun, then pulled his sword from its sheath.
Following him was Theodore, unarmed, holding a piece of chalk in one hand.
“Theodore, you…”
“?”
“With that… you gonna make it work? I’ve heard mages memorize a few key spells.”
“Yes. This is just backup anyway.”
It was raining, so chalk had its limits, but his guts were impressive.
Anyway, we headed toward the dining hall where the explosion had come from.
The Wooden Cross annex, housing the dormitory’s top talents, was closer to the dining hall than our main building.
Judith and Shirley had arrived before us and were standing with hands on hips, staring at the dining hall.
“Judith. What happened?”
“Arma.”
I spotted Judith and approached, scanning the area, but only a handful of cadets were watching.
Even if Wooden Cross didn’t have many combat-ready personnel, this was too few.
‘In an emergency, even Wooden Cross cadets would have upperclassmen step up, but they’re all hiding.’
I clicked my tongue inwardly, released the cocking, and holstered my pistol.
It wasn’t just because we had a luxurious lineup here: two swordsmen, one spearman, one mage—overkill, really.
Judith and Shirley had relaxed their grips on their weapons and were casually watching the dining hall, so I figured it wasn’t an emergency.
“This is… what should I even call it? Picky eater tantrum? No, a riot?”
“…Are picky eater tantrums and riots the same concept?”
Judith frowned and shut her mouth.
Shirley, watching her, chimed in with an explanation.
“See those guys over there? Steve Crowe, Raven O’Neil.”
I turned at Shirley’s words and saw two skinny, lanky cadets subdued by the staff.
“Those idiots caused the explosion? I saw them head out armed earlier.”
“Yeah. Or so they say—they didn’t like the preserved rations in the supply crates, so they raided the dining hall pantry. Claimed they paid tuition, so they had every right to take them.”
“No way… This actually happened? For real?”
It was so absurd my head throbbed.
Those two didn’t deserve names like Crowe and Raven.
Steve Chicken and Chicken O’Neil suited them better.
“What were they even demanding from the dining hall?”
“They were yelling for the hidden meat to be handed over. We came out when we heard that.”
“Then what was the explosion?”
“The head staff thought they were hiding food, so he threatened them with a magic tool that explodes when pressed…”
“Threatened them?”
“And dropped it into the fireplace himself.”
“Idiots.”
I sighed.
What crime had the staff committed in this mess?
If our rations were just preserved food, theirs probably were too.
“Still, glad it’s nothing serious.”
“Yeah, put away your sword aura.”
Judith said coolly to Arthur, arms crossed.
I hadn’t sensed any sword aura, but maybe there was something only accomplished swordsmen shared.
“No need to help?”
“Cadet infighting’s a bigger headache, so we’re sitting it out.”
“Then there’s nothing we can do.”
The commotion settled in no time.
The two, now handed over to the student council who’d arrived after a call, were being dragged away in restraints, stumbling along.
After watching the ridiculous incident wrap up, we trudged back to our room.
“Haa…”
Tension drained away in an instant, leaving my body limp.
I hadn’t eaten much, but it felt like I’d wasted energy for nothing.
What was left: four cans of stew with red beans and beef, two snack cans of caramels and candies, two strings of sausages, three jars of pickled vegetables, three salt packets, and four canned biscuit tins.
‘Even without tomorrow’s supplies, we can last another day.’
I’d unconsciously calculated for the worst, but anyway, the leftovers were enough for the three of us until resupply, even without rationing.
Still, just in case, we cut back on snacks. For dinner: one jar of pickled vegetables, one stew can, one rock-hard biscuit tin. We ate and turned in earlier than usual.
-Clang!
I woke to the racket of empty cans toppling over, not long after dozing off.
I snapped my eyes open and sat up the moment I heard it.
Arthur was already at the window, peeking through a gap in the boarded-up pane, and waved a hand at me.
“No big deal.”
I had no intention of disturbing Arthur on watch, so as he wished, I sat on the bed and asked quietly.
“What’s going on?”
“Looks like a room short on food. They’re rummaging through the trash.”
“…For real? No way. They’re not hibernating bears—how do they—”
“Who knows. All I know is they’re cadets who didn’t cooperate with Dillon’s inventory check.”
I’d thought they refused to share because they didn’t want to, but maybe it was the opposite?
If it were me, I’d admit shortages upfront and request redistribution.
It defied logic, but yesterday’s idiots didn’t seem capable of logic.
Yelling with doors shut—they were beyond even dorm rep Dillon’s help.
“Instead of digging trash like that, just ask Dillon for help at sunrise.”
“They’re probably not planning to, hence the weird behavior.”
Nothing more to see, Arthur fitted the board back and lay down.
Imagining those cadets scavenging in the resurgent predawn storm was pitiful.
Excluding our room, a few others had donated extra rations, so those fools wouldn’t starve by tomorrow.
‘…They burned through a week’s worth already. Fools.’
Assuming the three holed up were just big eaters, I closed my eyes.
.
.
.
Storm, day six.
No dining hall notice. Ate two stew cans, two sausages, three caramels, one biscuit tin.
Storm, day seven.
No promised resupply.
No dining hall notice. Ate one stew can, two sausages, one snack can of pickled apricots.
Storm, day eight.
No dining hall notice.
This is weird. No resupply.
Dillon went to Black Lily House to ask and hasn’t returned.
Ate two sausages, one biscuit tin.
“…Hm.”
Portions were down, but we weren’t starving yet.
Occasionally, glass shattered with a crash from lowerclassmen rooms where boards hadn’t sealed windows properly.
I didn’t want to imagine those food-short rooms with blown-out windows.
“Theodore. Hungry?”
“No.”
Even if I skipped a meal, feeding growing Theodore came first, but he started refusing food.
What we had left: two sausages, ten caramels, pineapple can, two hard biscuit tins.
“Arthur, you?”
“No issue.”
Even Arthur, who looked like our biggest eater, wasn’t pushing, so we endured somewhat tough but bearable days.
The problem was the lowerclassmen who’d botched intake control.
The trash-rummaging room three days ago got spare cans from Dillon’s stock, quieted for two days, then resumed yesterday.
-Rustle rustle.
“Those guys… They took plenty of rations, but already gone?”
Possessed or something.
Too much food devoured too fast for mere big appetites.
No, not time to worry about others.
We’d have issues starting tomorrow.
‘Leftovers won’t last two meals?’
Tomorrow, no matter what Theodore said, I’d force-feed him.
“Urgh… Ngh.”
-Clang!
While confirming Theodore and Arthur weren’t asleep visually, Cookie arrived dragging her bowl, groaning pitifully.
“Ah, sorry, Cookie.”
At least her feed was long-lasting and bagged whole, enough for the week.
I gave Cookie a generous scoop, then slipped into my winter wool coat.
“Going somewhere?”
“Yeah, Dillon’s room. Supplies’ll run low for us tomorrow, no word yet, so I’ll ask myself.”
I’d seen Dillon head to Black Lily House that morning.
Talk dragging or deliberations lengthy, whatever—I couldn’t wait.
‘Temporary or not, he’s dorm head, and I’m the eldest.’
Even without Dillon, Elijah and Isaiah should be there to relay a message.
So thinking, as I headed to Dillon’s room in the main building’s remotest corner.
“You bastard! Come out!”
“How long are we supposed to wait!?”
I ran smack into furious cadets surrounding Dillon’s room.