Chapter 120
Chapter 120
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 120
Chapter Title: Boss, Uninvited Guest, and... (4)
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***
The sun hovering overhead was slowly tilting toward the west.
“…That’s all for today’s lesson.”
No sooner had the Gemini Teacher’s words signaling the end of regular classes fallen than the classroom atmosphere heated up.
Some kids glanced at the door, others hastily packed their bags, and a few had already edged their feet out from beside their desks.
The Gemini Teacher smirked at them, then clapped to wrap up the class.
“Now, everyone, make sure you’re not late for special class, and I hope you enjoy it. That’s all—class dismissed!”
Clap! As if the teacher’s clap were a starting gun, the students surged out of the classroom in a stampede.
The hallway outside filled in an instant with footsteps from other classes in the same state.
That short-yet-long clamor of footsteps continued for a moment.
The only ones left in the now-empty classroom were two people: Cheon Yeomyeong and Seti.
The Gemini Teacher, tidying up after class, considered chatting briefly with them but settled for a light nod and left the room.
It’d be tactless for a teacher to meddle in her students’ love lives, after all.
…But contrary to her misunderstanding, Yeomyeong and Seti’s conversation was far from romantic.
“Yeomyeong, you’re not seriously planning to make a deal with those guys, are you?”
As Yeomyeong rose leisurely from his seat, Seti stood too and asked.
“…Not a deal, but some cooperation? No harm in being cautious.”
He gave a slight smile at her worried tone and replied.
“I’m against it. Aiba claimed he was a moderate, but he’s still a terrorist who pulled off an attack. They should be begging on their knees, and here they are trying to blackmail us? How can you trust scum like that?”
Her reaction was sharper than usual. No doubt furious because Aiba had brought up Yeomyeong’s past as a threat.
Yeomyeong shrugged.
“That wasn’t blackmail.”
“…Not blackmail?”
Seti tilted her head. Yeomyeong took her hand and started walking out of the classroom, adding,
“Obvious bluffing. If he really knew my past, he wouldn’t have mentioned the black market—he’d have brought up my dung beetle or janitor days.”
“You’re… right.”
The two walked side by side down the empty hallway, continuing their talk.
“Remember? The unspoken rule of the Incheon black market.”
“Unspoken rule? Oh… the masks?”
Seti nodded as it came back to her.
A filthy place where no one—customer or seller—could show their face.
That was the Incheon black market.
“Masks weren’t the only thing. I went on Elder Jang Man’s introduction, so I never gave my name either.”
“…”
“How could they dig into my past in a black market where they don’t know my face or name? They just made shit up to gauge my reaction.”
“So the dramatic buildup in front of Aiba was…”
Yeomyeong shrugged instead of answering.
“…You sly bastard. Getting better at acting by the day.”
Seti playfully poked his side. Yeomyeong chuckled.
“High praise?”
“Of course! Anyway, the Secret Society pulling a bluff like that? Some info guild.”
“They must be that desperate. Can’t track the priest, no clue on the black sheep… and they can’t exactly reveal themselves to the academy either…”
As Yeomyeong trailed off, Seti pieced it together.
“…So we’re the only ones they have any connection to for a deal… I mean, me.”
That’s why he brought up Wave Yang Art? She smirked and replied.
“So we’re the top dogs, and the Secret Society’s the underdogs?”
“Exactly. Terrorists, so they’ll eat any amount of bullying we dish out.”
“Hmm… I see… Yeomyeong, mind if I take the lead on ‘cooperating’ with Aiba from now on?”
“If that’s what you want.”
Yeomyeong bowed exaggeratedly, and Seti let out a small laugh.
Then, a brief silence.
It was the perfect moment for the black sheep topic, but neither brought it up, as if by mutual agreement.
Yeomyeong saw no need to mention it. If the leather priest was truly after Seti… he’d just kill him.
Seti held back to avoid burdening Yeomyeong unnecessarily.
Anyway, the two walked wordlessly toward the special class venue for a while.
Just as the southern lounge designated by Corbus came into view in the distance, Seti spoke.
“Oh yeah, that reminds me. The mask you wore in the black market… you had the sun mask, right?”
“Yeah. And you had the black dog mask.”
She gazed into space, reminiscing briefly, then smiled faintly as something occurred to her.
“You know, that was our first meeting. We met at the black market… and fought.”
“…Fought?”
“Huh?”
“It wasn’t a fight—I got one-sidedly attacked.”
Yeomyeong replied deadpan, and Seti awkwardly looked away.
She’d just remembered ambushing Yeomyeong and Elder Jang Man.
At a loss for words, she scratched her cheek, and Yeomyeong chuckled softly, nudging her side with his elbow.
Or trying to.
But as he casually lifted his arm, footsteps rushed up from behind.
…Familiar ones.
***
Seti and Yeomyeong whipped around simultaneously. Nothing was visible.
Precisely, nothing visible.
The sound of approaching footsteps and grass bending under something’s weight.
Yeomyeong swallowed a sigh at the figure not even bothering to hide the invisibility cloak.
“No way…”
As Seti sensed something and started backing away,
“Seti!”
A frantic voice rang out, and the invisible someone hugged Seti tight.
The cloak slipped off soon after, revealing the Saintess in her uniform.
“I finally found you… Sniff, Seti, you’ve been avoiding me… Ah, this feel… I missed you so much…”
An adult burying her face in a classmate’s chest and rubbing cheeks—what a sight.
Yeomyeong turned away, at a loss for words.
But Seti, caught in the Saintess’s grasp, stayed perfectly calm.
She glanced between the Saintess and Yeomyeong, then asked in a slightly subdued voice,
“…Cheon Yeomyeong?”
“…”
“Isn’t this special class supposed to be just us two?”
“…As you can see, no.”
Yeomyeong gave a wry smile. As Seti’s brow furrowed,
“Don’t be too hard on Yeomyeong, Seti. I know everything now.”
“…Know what?”
“Dung beetle!”
Yeomyeong clutched his forehead at the Saintess’s out-of-left-field confession.
‘…How do you just blurt it out like that?’
That mouth of hers! She should’ve explained the precog or future vision first for Seti to get it.
Oblivious or not to Yeomyeong’s thoughts, the Saintess hugged Seti tighter.
“I’ll help with your revenge… Money, influence—whatever you need, I’ve got it. You know? I’m the Saintess! Saintess!”
“…”
“Hehe, now we’re beyond friends—we’re accomplices…”
Before she finished, Seti swung her hand in a clean chop to the Saintess’s neck.
Crack! A crisp impact echoed, and the Saintess went limp.
Like something out of an action flick, a perfect strike.
At least Seti caught the collapsing Saintess instead of dumping her on the ground. She looked at Yeomyeong, still holding the unconscious girl.
“Yeomyeong.”
“…”
“What the hell… No, never mind. Obvious—you got dragged into her mess again, right?”
Her guess was spot-on, beyond expectation. Yeomyeong nodded.
“It needs a more complicated explanation… but yeah, dragged in.”
“Right, complicated… Well, it’s not some weird thing with the Saintess, is it?”
“…What?”
“Your reaction says no. Good—now explain.”
Whether her joke to lighten the mood or serious, Yeomyeong began with Seti’s words.
About the precog, the Saintess, and the future they’d both seen.
Seti’s expression barely changed throughout.
She looked mildly surprised hearing the Saintess had divined her every morning, but that was it.
Her calm demeanor let Yeomyeong explain at ease…
By the time the long tale ended, they wore matching expressions.
“…Unbelievable.”
“Right?”
A wry smile, a sigh, and finally a subtle glance at the Saintess.
Without a word, they both grabbed the unconscious Saintess by her limbs and dragged her toward the lounge.
Moments later at the lounge, they laid her on the table and pulled up chairs.
They gazed down at the Saintess—passed out like she was asleep, or asleep like she was passed out—for a moment.
Seti spoke first.
“Hey, Yeomyeong…”
“Yeah?”
“…You know, right?”
Yeomyeong didn’t ask what. Her eyes were on the Saintess.
“A bit airheaded, but she’s a good kid.”
“…A bit?”
“A lot airheaded. So… I’d rather you not use her heart.”
“…”
“…Or her body, obviously.”
The afterthought felt like the real point. Yeomyeong swallowed his retort and nodded.
Satisfied, Seti smiled.
“And if your heart wavers even a little… I’m first, got it?”
She reached out, touching his ear. Slender fingers slipped through his hair, gently rubbing the lobe.
“…What’re you talking about?”
“Playing innocent? You know exactly.”
“…”
“…Till the end, together.”
It sounded more like a self-promise than to him.
As Yeomyeong endured the suddenly sticky atmosphere and opened his mouth,
The lounge door burst open. In strode a familiar blonde girl.
“…Soemiri?”
“Uh… Am I the last one?”
Seti’s hand tightened on his earlobe at the sight.
Crunch—sharp pain shot through.
Hardly fair for Yeomyeong.
***
If someone at Lord Howe Academy named the most crowded spot, every current student would pick North Island.
Makes sense. Unlike the other islands built purely for students, North Island was designed like an artificial city from the start.
Harbor, airport, lodging for outsiders, commercial areas for students.
Though still under repair from the recent terror attack, the island buzzed with its old vitality now that special classes had begun.
Students heading to meet special instructors, staff enjoying brief downtime, reporters swarming to film the auditorium lectures…
The terror felt like ancient history, and most students had truly forgotten it.
At least on the surface.
But beneath North Island’s city streets, in sewers as tangled as the island’s rebuilds and expansions, the mood differed.
The blackout from the terror left the sewers pitch-black still.
Rats and bugs that roamed like it was home held their breath, huddling in the profound darkness.
In that gloom, the leather priest had carved out his lair.
Using the sewer layout for a hidden space, he’d rigged every path with traps.
Corpse mines, illusion arrays, chlorine gas emitters, etc.
Even if the whole academy staff hunted him, he could hold out a day easy.
With this hideout, nothing in the sewers could kill him, the leather priest assured himself.
But against his confidence… the lair fell in just 30 minutes.
“Fuckin’ bastard, running around like a cockroach.”
The sudden intruder kicked things off like that.
“Boss of Chapter 1, reduced to this? Not even summoning anything… and no decent drops either.”
Whatever the guy blabbered, the leather priest couldn’t reply. His pierced lung was still regenerating.
The intruder didn’t seem to expect one anyway, circling the lair and muttering nonstop.
“Why hoard so much corpse leather? Tannery or what, trash… Huh? Portal?”
Some magic savvy? He spotted the half-built altar as a dimensional gate.
“Coords… Northwest Great Mountains? Tsk, Chapter 5 level-up event already? No more Manchuria hunting grounds?”
“What to do… Eating it wastes goodwill with the prince…”
His half-joking ramble held no logic or consistency.
Laced with snickers, his voice resembled ravings from a madman down a psych ward hall.
Eerie, unsettling…
Finally, the gasping leather priest had to speak.
“Cough… Who… the hell are you?”
The intruder chuckled mockingly at the question.
“Me? Can’t tell? Just a fine academy student.”
“Bull… shit, urk… How’s a student… that strong…”
“Right? Even you can tell I’m no student level.”
“…What?”
Absurd answer. Ignoring the priest’s bewilderment, the intruder kept on.
“Fuck, level 34 should let me steamroll academy route, but two higher than me? Ha.”
“…”
“Tch, one’s gotta be the protagonist for sure.”
Protagonist? The leather priest involuntarily thought of two first-year boys.
The terrifying auras that forced him to tuck tail and flee.
Lost in thought too? They both fell silent.
But not for long. As the priest’s wounds nearly healed, the intruder spoke again.
“Hey, want help with the portal?”
“…”
The leather priest looked up in disbelief.
He meant to scold—do you know how rare sacrifices and prep time a portal needs in this dump?—but
Before he could, the intruder pulled something from his pocket.
A black gem pulsing eerie red.
“That’s…”
“First time seeing a Corruption Stone this big?”
Cackling, he dangled the fist-sized gem. The priest’s gaze locked on, head shaking with the hand.
“Well? This should open the portal no problem. Feel like a deal?”
“…”
The leather priest nodded. No strength or reason to refuse.
“What… do you want from me?”
“Nothing hard… Help me fish a bit.”
“…Fish?”
“More precisely, be bait. Human bait… to hook the real protagonist.”
Though he didn’t follow, the leather priest nodded frantically.
With a Corruption Stone that size and black sheep blood.
Those two alone could burn the academy to ash.
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