Chapter 102
Chapter 102
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 102
Chapter Title: Special Training (3)
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The sun had reached its zenith, the hour when students clutched their empty stomachs.
Amid the footsteps of students rushing to the cafeteria drumming against the windows, Yeomyeong was holed up alone in his room, poring over books.
To be precise, what he was reading weren't books, but two notebooks. Similar in size, with identical contents written within.
Flipping between the two notebooks as if verifying something, Yeomyeong's expression was deadly serious.
That was because the contents held within those notebooks were anything but trivial.
‘Chapter 1 boss, the Leather Priest, is still alive. Chapter 2 is about to begin soon, and the boss is Elf Hunter Juan…’
Notebooks penned directly by Baonic Lerak, the man who believed himself to be this world's creator—the so-called "author."
They contained all manner of information about the academy and a future slightly divergent from reality, one that would have come to pass had Yeomyeong not intervened.
Future events and the culprits behind them, personal histories of key figures, hidden fortuitous encounters scattered throughout the academy.
Some entries even prompted thoughts of, "No way something like this could happen?"
Prime examples included the dragon lurking in the academy sewers or the elf raid on the academy during first-year winter break.
Yet Yeomyeong committed even those details meticulously to memory. He reread the ones about fortuitous encounters so many times he could recite them flawlessly.
To monopolize them? No, that wasn't it. To him, those fortuitous encounters served as both bait and clues.
‘…Clues to track down the Player.’
The Player, lurking somewhere within Lord Howe Academy.
Like Baonic, he too would know of the countless hidden fortuitous encounters in the academy.
Considering the temperament of a guy who murdered for level ups, he'd be lying in wait for any chance to claim them.
‘…He might have already seized a few.’
Yeomyeong hoped so from the bottom of his heart.
He hoped the Player had taken some fortuitous encounters, leaving behind missing clues to pinpoint the bastard as quickly as possible.
The moment Yeomyeong flipped to the next page in the notebook amid such thoughts.
Creak.
The closed door swung open with a faint noise.
It wasn't a visitor. No one was visible beyond the threshold.
But Yeomyeong's sharpened senses—honed precisely from repeated use of the invisibility cloak—detected something crossing over.
“…Was that the dorm supervisor passing by?”
Yeomyeong muttered insincerely while casually closing the notebook.
As he rose from his seat, he retrieved the invisibility cloak from his bosom and tucked it at his side, ready to don at a moment's notice.
In the brief time it took him to reach the door after his preparations, the invisible intruder made no move.
And the instant Yeomyeong shut the door, something cold pressed firmly against the back of his head.
Click.
A familiar cocking sound. A familiar sensation.
Without thinking, Yeomyeong sighed and asked,
“Just checking to avoid any misunderstanding—is this someone I know?”
***
The Saintess bit her lip.
Her attempt to seize the upper hand with a surprise attack had unraveled far too easily.
Had she grown too accustomed to such antics by now?
Even with an unseen gun barrel pressed to the back of his head, Yeomyeong remained utterly calm.
No—beyond calm, he looked downright annoyed.
Intent on threatening him once more, she tightened her grip on the revolver.
Of course, it did nothing this time either. Yeomyeong turned his head without a second thought.
“What business do you have in the boys' dorm?”
“…”
Only then did the Saintess realize she'd come to see Yeomyeong without a plan. No, she did have thoughts.
What did you do with Seti? What's your exact relationship with Seti? Are those rumors the temple girls were blabbing about true? And…
What do you think of me?
But none of those thoughts escaped her lips. Only Yeomyeong's voice filled the room.
“If a faculty member catches us like this, it won't end with demerits or expulsion. Could turn into a scandal.”
“…A scandal? What scandal?”
The Saintess shot back, but Yeomyeong offered no reply, merely tilting his head askew.
It was only upon facing his sullen expression that she realized how idiotic her question had been.
The Saintess, sneaking into the boys' dorm. What else could possibly be a scandal?
The sort that would have every tabloid in the world lighting up and swarming.
“Won't drag this out, so head back the way you came.”
With that, Yeomyeong brushed past the Saintess.
She stared for a moment at the back of his head as he returned to the desk, then balled her fists.
The usual her would have heeded his advice.
But after days of being ignored by Seti and losing her grip amid all-night vigils of prayer, the Saintess chose otherwise.
“…Stop. I'm not done talking.”
“…”
“I'll really shoot. If you don't want a bullet, turn around right now.”
With that uncharacteristic threat, her alabaster hand emerged from beneath the invisibility cloak.
The revolver it held was aimed squarely at Yeomyeong's head. Yet upon confirming the gun, he could only exhale a long sigh.
The cylinder was empty.
No, in a sense, that was to be expected.
Academy rules forbade students from carrying even real sharpened swords. How could the Saintess possibly tote a revolver loaded with live rounds?
But pointing it at him without realizing…
‘…She's completely lost it.’
Yeomyeong shook his head and draped the invisibility cloak over himself—the very one gifted by the Saintess's mother.
As he raised his hand, she thrust the barrel forward again.
“Do I look like I'm joking? Huh? Think I won't shoot?!”
“…”
“Come forward! Now! Answer my questions obediently… Huh?”
In the next instant, Yeomyeong vanished from her sight.
Uncomprehending, the Saintess uttered confused "Huh? Huh?"s while glancing around.
Only belatedly did she recall the invisibility cloak.
That was when Yeomyeong seized her waist from behind and tucked her under his arm.
“W-wait…!”
Before the ambushed Saintess could speak, Yeomyeong hoisted her up.
“P-put me down! Let go!”
Held fast by the waist and floating horizontally in midair, she kicked and pounded at Yeomyeong's body.
Even now, she refrained from pulling the trigger—it seemed that even in her deranged state, shooting him was off the table.
Well, at this point, it hardly mattered.
Still holding her tucked under his arm, Yeomyeong raised his free hand.
And…
Smack!
He struck her buttock hard with his palm.
The peach hidden beneath the invisibility cloak and uniform flushed red, a sharp cry bursting from the Saintess's lips.
“Y-you…! What the hell are you… Kyaa!”
No matter what she yelled, Yeomyeong swung his palm again.
Precisely as the workshop foreman had once spanked the dung beetle kid in his childhood.
Smack!
“Th-this is blasphemy! Blasphemy, I say!”
Smack!
“W-wait just a…! I was wrong… Hyaak!”
Smack!
“St-stop… Hnng!”
And so he spanked the Saintess's buttocks for what felt like ages.
He finally stopped when she fell silent, merely sniffling through her nose.
He debated simply tossing her out the window as-is, but instead set her down on the bed.
No matter what, he needed to know why she'd pulled this stunt before sending her packing.
After shedding the invisibility cloak, Yeomyeong addressed the still-sniffling Saintess.
“…If you've snapped out of it, spit it out properly. Why'd you come barging in here all of a sudden?”
“…”
“You skip classes for days, what—did you go on a bender or something?”
Instead of replying, the Saintess drew a deep breath, as if wrestling with something, then cautiously removed the invisibility cloak.
Her revealed face was streaked with old tear stains and fresh snot trails.
…Had he gone too hard? As Yeomyeong averted his eyes in search of somewhere to look, the Saintess spoke.
“…Yeomyeong.”
“Why.”
“Recently… have you ever broken curfew?”
The word "curfew" tipped him off instantly: this was about Seti.
A question arose in tandem.
Just what was Seti to the Saintess that she'd charge in gun-first like this?
Come to think of it, his first encounter with her mother, Morine, had played out similarly. Like mother, like daughter?
As Yeomyeong mulled this, the Saintess reached out and clamped onto his hand.
“You haven't broken it, right? Right?”
“…”
Yeomyeong weighed lying but opted for the truth.
His opposite number was the Saintess, possessor of an invisibility cloak. She'd uncover the facts rifling through dorm logs if need be—a flimsy lie would only poison things.
“…I have.”
The confession hit her like a hammer to the skull; she gaped blankly.
After zoning out for some thirty seconds, the Saintess stammered,
“Y-Yeomyeong… Y-you and… Seti… you're in th-that kind of relationship?”
“…That kind?”
“The kind that leaves footprints in the snow… right?”
A direct, brazen question. Yeomyeong swallowed a wry smile.
How much embarrassment had she swallowed to voice something so unlike her?
Suppressing his pity, he drew Uragan's Hilt from his bosom.
The rod, carved from a unicorn horn, gleamed iridescently the moment it entered his grasp.
He uttered no virgin-maiden drivel, but for the Saintess—who couldn't hear the unicorn's voice—that glow alone sufficed.
“Ah….”
“…That do it?”
The Saintess nodded. Her flushed cheeks stirred guilt, but he rationalized it away as unavoidable.
Better this than entangling her in revenge… At least, so Yeomyeong reckoned.
“Questions done? Now scram before lunch ends.”
But the Saintess apparently thought otherwise.
“Yeomyeong.”
“…What now?”
“About you spanking my butt… If I act like an idiot again… will you do it once more?”
An abrupt confession. Stung by the unforeseen words, Yeomyeong flinched rigid.
Seeing his reaction, the Saintess beamed. A victor's smile.
“…Joking, you perv.”
She donned the invisibility cloak once more and rose from the bed.
Yeomyeong said nothing until the door opened and she departed.
He regained mobility only upon hearing a certain raven tapping at the window.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
A colossal raven, large enough to blot out the entire pane.
Yeomyeong sighed at the sight of its furious expression.
* * *