Chapter 118
Chapter 118
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: Boss, Uninvited Guest, and... (2)
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In the early morning as dawn rose beyond the horizon, Minister Kim Gwan-hyeong frowned while gazing out the window.
The sunrise visible from the Academy VIP room was breathtaking enough to draw admiration, but even that grew tiresome after a day or two.
For him, stuck in the Academy for days on end and racking up failure after failure, even that beautiful scenery felt unpleasant.
‘….’
After staring at the sunrise for a moment, the minister lit a cigarette to shake off the mood.
He exhaled.
Only after filling his lungs with the thick smoke of the domestic tobacco could he calmly reflect on recent events.
‘…Nothing’s gone right.’
Summing up the government’s recent handling of affairs, all he could think of was one failure after another.
From the botched deal with the necromancer, to the Manchuria incident, to the diplomatic efforts to politically isolate the Academy.
Failure, failure, and more failure.
First, consider the deal between the Korean government and the necromancer in Incheon.
The government still hadn’t identified who raided the deal.
Individual or group… it was a complete mystery.
Even the National Intelligence Service had spat out ridiculous nonsense, like some terrorist group from beyond the dimensional gate being involved, out of sheer annoyance.
‘Fucking salary thieves.’
The Manchuria incident was no different.
With all the slush funds poured in and the manpower deployed… they hadn’t even secured half the required “sacrifices.”
There was the unexpected variable of the Saintess, but it was an inexcusable failure.
To recoup the losses, Minister Kim Gwan-hyeong had personally stepped in to pressure the Academy…
But as evidenced by his days holed up in the VIP room, the results were lackluster.
It was all thanks to that damn “special invited instructor.”
Who would’ve thought the headmaster would bring in an outside force herself?
If it had been a power like Korea actively pressuring the Academy, it might’ve been different, but the ones who’d been sitting back and watching jumped at the chance, gleefully supporting the headmaster’s choice.
The Holy Kingdom, which had been pimping out the Saintess like some idol, France blinded by jealousy, and even the Moscow bastards still deluded into thinking they were a superpower.
With support from all those riffraff and the fancy title of “special instructor,” the justification for pressuring the Academy evaporated in an instant.
They’d tried infiltrating Shepherds late in the game, but…
Two of them had been caught and killed by a mysterious special instructor named Korbus.
Even hearing the report had been absurd. There was bad luck, and then there was this.
Of all the moments, running into the special instructor right then and there?
‘And we even used Awakening Potions to infiltrate those guys… Heaven truly is indifferent.’
Finishing his thoughts, Minister Kim Gwan-hyeong sucked the cigarette down to the filter. As nicotine coursed through his veins, his irritation eased slightly.
After a brief pause, he turned on his smartphone and initiated a video call to someone.
It connected shortly after, and a familiar face appeared on the screen.
—I’ve received your contact, Minister. What is it?
A crisp, disciplined voice.
On the screen was a woman so precise she could’ve passed for a soldier.
Her name was 10-11-16, a Shepherd pulled from the ranch to infiltrate as an Academy special instructor.
“You’re starting special classes today, right? Just checking in. How’s the preparation?”
It was a perfunctory question, but the Shepherd answered without hesitation.
—No issues. All the Sacrifice Sisters except the Black Sheep have applied for me as their instructor and joined my special class. Most of the other Korean students have also joined important instructor classes.
“Good, good. And the Black Sheep?”
—Safely placed under the ‘C-number’ instructor, same as ordered.
C-number. Hearing the term, the minister smiled for the first time since sunrise.
Honey trap. Sometimes, simple is best.
“What did you think seeing it firsthand? Was the C-number as head-over-heels for the Black Sheep as her reports suggested?”
—Beyond that. If the Black Sheep wanted, he’d hand over his liver and gallbladder.
“…Ha!”
The minister laughed heartily. At least there was one gain from this accursed Lord Howe Academy.
But complacency was forbidden. Love burned like fire—one never knew when it might flicker out.
“Tell the Black Sheep not to spare her body. If needed, deploy other Shepherds too.”
—Other Shepherds as well? You mean…?
“If we can tie the C-number to Korea before graduation, perfect. If not, at least get us some seed.”
—Ah, so…
“Right. Even a half-baked failure can spread her legs.”
Spitting out words fit for livestock, the minister pulled out another cigarette.
Flick, flick. As he lit it with his lighter, something occurred to him, and he added,
“Oh, and… tighten security around the Shepherds.”
—Security? Is there a problem?
“The trash who failed the terrorist attack claims he’ll take our Shepherds. No idea what he’s planning, but make sure there’s no entanglement.”
—Understood. Any other orders?
The Shepherd was unusually proactive today. The special class, perhaps?
Ignoring a faint sense of unease, the minister replied.
“Well… occasionally snap photos of the Black Sheep and C-number. A scandal could help Excellency in the next local elections.”
—Yes, sir.
“Good. Carry on.”
With that, the minister looked away from his phone.
Whether due to the cigarette smoke obscuring his view or the morning light, he never noticed…
The Shepherd’s eyes were pitch black throughout.
***
Lively morning commute.
Perhaps because temporary classes had ended and the school lockdown was lifted, the commute buzzed with extra energy today.
Some had donned brand-new uniforms, others chattered nonstop about special classes.
Not every student brimmed with energy, of course.
Those who’d botched their special class applications trudged toward the main building, gloom undisguised.
A landscape of youthful extremes.
Watching it, Yeomyeong sighed unwittingly.
“Why the funeral face this early? Didn’t sleep?”
Seti’s voice came from right beside him. Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes at her.
“…Yeah. Thanks to a certain someone who visited last night.”
“Really? Who?”
“…”
“Visiting a guy’s room in the middle of the night. Who could it be?”
“…Yeah, who?”
Blunt question, innocent reply.
The two walked to school chatting as if it were idle banter.
A few students shot them curious glances at the sight of them shoulder-to-shoulder, but that was it.
They were past the age for playground crushes, and rumors already ran rampant among the first-years anyway.
Cheon Yeomyeong and Seti were that kind of thing.
They’d locked eyes fighting on her transfer day or whatever, bonded battling together in the shelter, blah blah.
Regardless of the obvious planted gossip, Yeomyeong halted Seti with a serious tone.
“Hey, Hong Seti.”
“…What?”
“You remember everything from last night, right?”
Last night.
Mignium suddenly manifesting, Seti’s body, and the Awakening Potion she’d left behind.
If it had been a dream, he could’ve laughed it off, but the discolored potion screamed reality.
“…Who knows?”
Like she’d been doing since they met that morning, Seti shrugged it off.
“…”
Yeomyeong stared steadily into her eyes.
Feeling it, she rolled hers, then smirked.
“…Did you drink the Awakening Potion?”
A line impossible without seeing Mignium and their conversation.
So the body he’d seen yesterday really was the real Seti.
Rubbing his throbbing forehead, Yeomyeong answered.
“Of course not. How could I?”
“Why? Too dirty coming from my chest?”
“…”
“Huh… It’s been since Incheon I’ve seen that face.”
Should he smack her? As Yeomyeong debated briefly, Seti added,
“Still, you should’ve just drunk it. Think of it as payment for lifting the seal.”
With that, Seti turned.
Not toward the main building, but a secluded path students rarely took.
Matching her stride, Yeomyeong replied.
“I didn’t lift the seal expecting payment.”
“Oh? Then it wasn’t repayment from me either?”
“…I’m being serious. Wanna keep joking?”
Only after Yeomyeong snapped did Seti grin broadly.
“Ah, sorry. Wasn’t planning to… It’s just, like, ugh, can’t help it.”
As if to prove it, Seti’s lips quivered.
Laughter, joy—something she was holding back.
“But I really mean it. Drink it.”
“…”
“You have it now, right? The Awakening Potion.”
Instead of answering, Yeomyeong opened his bag to show her. Inside, a potion slightly smaller than a soju bottle shimmered iridescently.
“Knew it. Carrying it to force it down me again?”
“…Yeah.”
“What if I refuse?”
“I’ll make you.”
“Uh… that’s a bit…”
Seti scratched her cheek, shook her head, and said,
“Still, you should drink it. It’d be wasted on me anyway.”
Her tone grew earnest, but her steps toward the path seemed oddly light.
“…Wasted?”
“Yeah. Remember? What potential we sisters were born with.”
Allmaster.
Beings who could walk all three mana paths allowed to humans.
Seti and her sisters were all artificially created Allmasters.
But…
“We’re all defective. Could only handle two paths. And even those half-impossible, so we specialized—one main, one support.”
Was it the lifted mental seal?
No regret or disappointment colored her face as she said “defective.”
“In my case… martial arts main, divinity support.”
“Then…”
“Yeah. What I put in the Awakening Potion was my mage potential.”
“…”
“But potential or not, I can’t even cast basic magic.”
Seti glanced away. As if sorry for giving the worst part.
“Not giving it recklessly, though. If you can use magic, our plan smooths out… efficiency and focus. That’s why.”
Watching Seti ramble as if hiding something, Yeomyeong stopped.
“Seti, sure you won’t regret it?”
“…Never regretted once since meeting you.”
Cheesy line, delivered smoothly… Yeomyeong shook his head and pulled the potion from his bag.
Gazing at its shimmering glow, he hesitated briefly.
Should he really drink this? He still hadn’t asked about Mignium.
But the hesitation didn’t last. He trusted Seti, if not Mignium.
Decision made, no reason to dawdle.
Pop.
Yeomyeong uncorked it and downed the potion. Unlike its look, it tasted sweetly of milk.
“How is it? Feel any different?”
As he emptied the bottle, Seti asked. Odd anticipation sparkled in her eyes.
But Yeomyeong felt no change. Even after draining the last drop, his senses and body remained the same.
“Hm? How? Like when you learned Wave Yang Art—bam, all at once?”
“…Not really?”
Yeomyeong stowed the empty bottle and introspected. Still, no difference.
“Uh… maybe the effect’s delayed?”
“Probably.”
“Or… maybe I failed the Awakening Potion lottery?”
“…What?”
What the hell was she saying?
At Seti’s half-joking, half-serious words, Yeomyeong’s face hardened.
“Don’t say creepy shit.”
“Why not? Could happen. And if failed, so what? It was my potential wasted anyway.”
“…You know how much an Awakening Potion costs?”
“…Oh. Right. There’s the cost.”
Forgot about that. Seti muttered and shut up.
Brief silence, exchanged glances.
Staring wordlessly, they both smirked almost simultaneously.
With the mood lightened, Yeomyeong spoke first.
“Potion’s done. Now spill—how’re you tangled with Mignium?”
Straight fastball, no setup.
Caught off-guard, Seti answered awkwardly.
“Ah, that… about her…”
“…Her?”
“Only you can call her by name casually. I… can’t.”
Seti’s demeanor when mentioning Mignium was cautious. Like a Saintess invoking the Five Gods.
“Seti, don’t tell me…”
As Yeomyeong started, Seti waved it off.
“No, no. Not what you think. I chose her myself.”
“…”
“Really. You’ll get it once you know how we met. The day she lifted the seal…”
The moment Seti began explaining.
Something familiar—not a student—entered Yeomyeong’s senses from the bushes beyond the path.
He glared instantly. Following his subconscious, mana flashed in the air.
Ting!
A fingernail-sized ice shard pierced the bushes, grazing whoever hid there.
“Eek!”
At the sudden scream, Seti looked that way too.
“W-Wait! I surrender, surrender!”
Emerging from the bushes, arms raised above her head, was the cleaning lady.
Auntie Eiba.
Secret Society spy who’d orchestrated the terrorist attack… and handed Wave Yang Art to Seti.
Blood streamed from the ice-shard gash on her forehead, yet she stammered,
“H-Hong Seti, and the Earthling who learned Wave Yang Art… mind if we talk a bit?”
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