Chapter 84
Chapter 84
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: The Last Supper? (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Then I’m going to sleep.”
“What do you mean ‘then’?”
I placed a pillow over my head as if I didn’t want to hear any more, silently watched Dylan groan in pain, then grabbed his shoulder and pulled.
“I’m not asking you to tell me who the culprit is.”
“I just don’t want to say anything that might lead to you figuring something out.”
“Why on earth are you acting like this? This was a violent crime. And you could’ve died if things went wrong.”
“It wasn’t that bad—”
Dylan lifted his head to protest my words.
It was clear Dylan didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.
But this wasn’t something that could be brushed off lightly.
“In that rain, with that amount of blood loss. Whether hypothermia or excessive bleeding, one of them was definitely happening.”
Isaiah and Eliya watched us with wide eyes at the sudden argument.
Eliya, who always had to chime in with something, was unusually silent today.
“Hiding it isn’t going to solve anything, is it?”
“God, you’re just…”
Dylan squinted and grumbled.
‘I had my reasons!’
But he couldn’t say that, and that was his eternal regret.
I considered pressing him further, but fatigue was visibly creeping onto Dylan’s face.
In the end, I told Dylan we’d talk later and left the dorm.
A hot shower seemed like the only way to shake off this exhaustion.
‘In the end, nothing’s been resolved about the food supplies.’
I tallied the remaining food in my head.
For dinner, smoked sausages sliced and pan-fried in butter with canned pineapple on the side wouldn’t be much, but it’d do.
That left just the three cans of biscuit tins for tomorrow—thanks to Eliya, we had an extra one.
My heart grew heavy.
.
.
.
But fortunately, Makina turned out to be a far more capable student council president than I’d expected.
The next day, we received the assembly order and headed to the dorm lobby on the first floor.
Dylan, who was there first as dorm monitor, looked much better than yesterday.
In contrast, most of the cadets had pale faces, their eyes sharp and on edge from having nowhere to go during the storm, making them extremely sensitive.
“I won’t make any excuses. I’m sorry the rations are later than expected.”
Makina bowed her head in greeting, her white robe draped over one arm.
Normally, the cadets would’ve been moved, murmuring “Ooh, Makina…” but starvation had a way of making people cynical.
“President Makina…”
“How can the academy, which is supposed to ensure cadet safety, let this happen?”
“How do we know this won’t happen again?”
One voice sparked complaints, and like a dam bursting, criticism poured from everywhere.
The student council cadets, lined up like Makina’s personal guard in their black hats, flinched every time the voices grew louder.
Makina, however, listened silently to the blame with a serene expression that made it hard to believe she was the one cornered.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I take full responsibility. I know everyone went through unintended hardship in the storm.”
Why was Makina the one apologizing?
And why was she putting up with all this?
Normally, the one who should be here wasn’t Makina—a mere student and student council president—but Chancellor Reynolds.
‘Really, just to get as many problem cadets as possible to graduate safely?’
Cadets in crisis had witnessed the small miracle I caused (admittedly a very irreverent one) and hailed me as an executor or saint.
But wasn’t Makina the one truly deserving of that praise right now?
Her noble sense of responsibility and magnanimity in enduring the raw, irrational criticism went far beyond my comprehension.
“The sea storms in the Netun region are infamous for their ferocity and sporadic persistence. The academy preserves its own preserved food every winter.”
“We already know that!”
“Tell us your plan!”
It was like a monkey house.
One person would raise their voice, veins bulging in their neck, and another would immediately follow suit.
The student council clenched their fists, furious at their inability to step in despite seeing Makina’s plight.
“The preserved food is stored by expiration date order, renting part of the warehouses from the island residents outside academy grounds. What we’ve brought are from those.”
-Crack!
Makina approached one of the wooden crates stacked in front of her.
She wedged a crowbar into the seam at the top, rocked it back and forth, and opened the sealed box.
Inside were relatively fresh preserved foods that looked recently made.
“Each box has enough for one cadet to eat for a week, so we’ll be fine until the storm ends. Take according to your room’s headcount. Dylan, handle distribution.”
“Yes.”
With that, we escaped the brink of starvation.
The boxes truly contained more than enough provisions to weather the storm.
“Theodor, you eat first.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Your portions have been too small. Your family’s known for shooting up tall after adulthood. Lack of nutrition means brittle bones.”
“You sound like my grandpa.”
“…….”
Both Arthur and Theodor were younger than me, but quite mature.
Even with reduced meals, they didn’t complain, and they even played with the puppy Cookie, who was wriggling from boredom.
Sure, I was partial to Cookie since I’d trained him myself, but they had no reason to.
-Sizzle…
From the ration box, I made breakfast with white bread I hadn’t seen in eight days, topped with cheese and smoked ham.
‘Oatmeal cake. I’ll give them this instead of the tasteless biscuits.’
This oatmeal and butter cake was a bit heavy for dessert, but perfect for force-feeding to make up for lost calories.
We finally had a leisurely, abundant meal.
“Cookie, come here.”
After pouring food for Cookie—who’d been drooling until we finished—I wrapped up my morning routine.
Theodor’s expression didn’t change much, but a faint color returned to his cheeks.
He was the type where you wouldn’t notice until he collapsed if you didn’t pay close attention.
We dragged the ration box over, cross-checked the leftovers, and stowed it under the console in the cool shade.
Bellies full, we gathered around the living room table.
“Like the previous rations, these boxes have quite a generous amount.”
“We have to live off them entirely the week before new ones arrive, so yeah.”
“That’s why everyone freaked out over the shortage.”
“Tell me about it.”
Had everyone forgotten that graduating from Aegis Academy meant becoming soldiers?
We took over ten hours of survival training a year to handle crises.
Like hiding in ditches or drains during brutal field storms no matter how filthy, or ditching heavy gear during an avalanche to avoid being buried.
But watching those wooden cross guys over the past few days in mild hunger, I doubted they’d survive real disasters.
“Phew, glad we got rations before it got worse. I was about to share with Cookie.”
Cookie, thrilled just at hearing his name, bounced around cluelessly.
I scooped up the bounding puppy onto my lap and held him tight until he calmed.
But instead of calming, Cookie took a huge breath and barked loudly.
“Woof woof woof woof!”
“Argh! My ears!”
It felt like blood was trickling from them.
While I plugged my ears, Cookie dashed to the entrance barking.
“What? Someone here?”
-Knock knock knock.
A beat later, a knock sounded outside.
It was Dylan outside, hand raised awkwardly to knock again.
“Dylan? Feeling better now?”
“Thanks to you, much better.”
But contrary to his words, Dylan’s face looked bad again.
Murmurs that had barely died down outside swelled anew through the open door.
Something felt off.
My unease turned to certainty when someone across the hall from our room hurled a ration box down the corridor.
-Crash!
“What the hell…?”
One started it, then more boxes flew out into the hall.
Dylan rubbed his forehead with a complicated expression, then stepped inside my room and shut the door, as if ignoring the commotion behind him.
“Trouble’s brewing. You all eaten? Stomachs okay?”
“Stomachs…?”
“One of the ration boxes seems problematic. One guy who ate from it vomited and collapsed.”
“What?”
Without asking permission, Dylan strode in, scanning for our food box.
I reached under the console, pulled it out, and slid it to him.
“Mind if I check the contents?”
“Go ahead. Who collapsed?”
“Dana Wood from sculpture major. Lucky she puked right away—no major issue.”
I knew Dana Wood well.
She was the cadet who’d drawn a sloppy magic circle at the first-floor entrance about five days ago to ward off evil spirits.
“No problem here. Sorry for the sudden intrusion.”
“No worries. But are you checking every single one like this?”
“No choice.”
-Crash!
-Throw it all out!
-Poison! Has to be poison!
-Who the hell would—
Outside, desperate cadets’ thick clamor echoed.
They’d panicked to the point of discarding rations they’d finally received after starvation.
What was going on?
Who was testing us, trapped on this island, like this?
Even I, with no religion, felt in that moment the unfathomable might of something transcendent, vast and distant beyond human understanding.