Chapter 18 - A Status Window Opened on the First Day of School (2)

Many students never even consider it, but a university's staff includes countless workers besides professors and teaching assistants. Security guards, for instance, handle campus security and safety, while office assistants manage administrative work across the board.

Just as you rarely notice the staff cleaning a restaurant while you eat, some people drift in and out of your peripheral vision unless you consciously look for them. Gardeners are no different. That was why Elizaveta had slotted Ivan into the position.

It was neither a conspicuous job like professor or teaching assistant nor one that made his presence anywhere seem out of place. And it came with no fixed duties. After all, you needed a garden to need a gardener, and Jansk University had none.

“Hmm.”

Naturally. Why would a university built in the heart of the capital waste land on gardens or flower beds? Thus, no one need suspect anything even if the Princess created a position for him.

They would assume that if he were truly important, or if Elizaveta intended to carry out some operation within the university, she would have placed her agent in a more important job. The prince’s faction probably thought one of her subordinates had quietly found work for an acquaintance.

This was merely the sort of petty rule-bending rampant throughout the kingdom: “Parachute an acquaintance into a job and milk the pension.” (It was not illegal. Even the House of Nobles considered this level of corruption positively clean.)

“Right where I thought.”

As a result, Jansk University's gardener had plenty of time. Enough to indulge in leisure activities. At present, the gardener's leisure activity was bomb disposal.

'They accounted for the guards' routes, the movements of everyone on campus, and the sight lines from every building.'

These people were “professionals.” Ivan narrowed his eyes as he removed the third explosive. It was a crude homemade mana bomb, but that very crudeness made it impossible to identify the group responsible.

His reasons for identifying likely bomb sites and searching them were as follows.

One: an attack during an academy's entrance ceremony was “common sense.”

One: with a bomber overhead and Counterintelligence Command on extremely high alert, any organization capable of attacking the academy now had to be made up of “professionals.”

Starting with those assumptions and reverse-engineering the enemy's movements let him pinpoint where they would plant bombs. Somewhere out of the guards' sight. A secluded spot where a passing civilian wouldn't notice them, either. And a blind spot invisible from the windows of every building.

Search the places where those conditions overlapped, and a bomb turned up. At this point, it was no different from harvesting baby potatoes. Locate the general area, stroll over, and pluck one out. That was all.

“Now the only question is who's behind this.”

There was just one problem. Far too many suspects came to mind.

Demons. The least likely, but that itself made them suspicious. They had ample motive to terrorize Jansk University. Yet unless they were idiots, they wouldn't try something like this again so soon after their last failure.

Elves. Suspicious in their own right, but their motive was unclear. Their warship was still hovering above Jansk University, putting them in the best position to pull this off. Yet even if they tarnished Krasilof's prestige, they had very little to gain.

The Crown Prince's Faction. His likeliest suspect. They had both the means and the motive to attack Jansk University. Today, however, would have been difficult. Having borne the full brunt of Elizaveta's fury, Counterintelligence Command was guarding the area with eyes peeled.

In short, far too many suspects came to mind. Some unidentified clandestine organization had planted an exceptionally capable operative inside the academy.

'A perfectly ordinary academy story.'

At this point, Ivan actually felt reassured. Yes. An entrance-ceremony attack and secret operatives planted inside the academy: that was what made an academy story.

He had already been feeling uneasy because this year's incoming class had no one performing quick-draw sword techniques or introducing themselves as the Heavenly Demon, no cowboy firing a pump-action shotgun with a blade of grass between his teeth, and no little girl tank with an inexplicably impressive command of profanity.

Shaking his head with a wry smile, Ivan headed toward the next likely bomb site. Just then, he heard something strange. Very faintly.

“What's that supposed to be? Santa Claus?”

Ivan's eyes sharpened. He bent down without betraying any sign that he had noticed. There was a pebble just the right size. As naturally as if he were tying his shoelaces, he picked it up and hurled it toward the voice.

CLANG!

The sound of something being deflected. At the same instant, Ivan shot forward like lightning, straight toward it.

TAP, TAP-TAP!

Quick footsteps rang out, but Ivan ultimately had to stop. The speaker had vanished without a trace into the crowds outside Jansk University, where countless people waited for the entrance ceremony to end.

“Santa Claus, is it?”

He gave a disbelieving laugh and turned around. Retracing his steps, he soon found the pebble, neatly split in two. Piece by piece, he broke down the information and reassembled it.

'Swordsmanship.'

'A young male, or a female. If male, young enough that his voice hasn't broken yet.'

'Too faint to identify the voice. I'd need to hear it another couple of times to get a sense of it.'

'Height: unconfirmed.'

'Quick movements. Fast reflexes. Probably Line of Fire Detection.'

'An ability difficult to acquire at a student's level, but very likely a student.'

He changed direction, heading into the university this time. Toward the most dangerous place at Jansk University: the great auditorium, where Elizaveta would be observing the entrance ceremony. And toward the Counterintelligence Command field control room that had to be nearby.

“Santa... Claus.”

This world had no folk legend of Santa Claus. Naturally, it had no Christmas, either. There was no righteous old man, like a red-clad bandit, who put candy and toys in stockings. That was why he had reacted so sharply to that trivial mutter.

Which meant.

Which meant.

“A Possessor.”

Had this one also written a “5,700-Character Critical Review of Thanks”? Or was it some accident? Hit by a truck? Diving into the Han River was too dated a style, so he could rule that out. Of course, it could be the original creator. That happened often enough, too.

What had brought this person here, and how? One thing, however, he could be certain of: they knew this game was an academy story. There was no other reason a Possessor would go out of their way to enroll or take a job at the university.

Then this person knew the “original.” Knew what would happen next. Knew the ending.

“Hey, wait. Stop right there! This is a restricted area!”

“Call Dmitry.”

“What? I don't know what you've heard, or where...”

CRACK!

Ivan twisted the uniformed soldier's arm as the man blocked his way. The soldier reacted immediately, drawing a pistol from his sleeve, but the instant it appeared, Ivan flipped its catch and dismantled it in one fluid motion. The soldier whose arm he held stared blankly at the pistol in his hand, now reduced to a grip.

CLICK! CLICK!

An instant later, gun barrels appeared all at once.

Five. Well trained. Good disguises, too. The five soldiers surrounding him were all dressed differently, like ordinary citizens you might see anywhere.

Ivan swept his gaze over them, drew a deep breath, then let it out in a short burst. Anger stirred. Anxiety was burning through his patience.

“Call Dmitry.”

“Do you know the Lieutenant Colonel? Let's not cause a disturbance here. Somewhere quiet...”

“Ivan.”

“... Pardon?”

“My name is Ivan Petrovich. Anyone here from the Extermination Unit?”

“I was in the final class, sir. Excuse me, but may I take a look at your face...?”

The soldier Ivan had forced to his knees cautiously raised his head. He slowly set down the pistol grip he still held and spread his hand wide. After studying Ivan's face in bewilderment for a long moment, he raised one hand and gently screened off the area below Ivan's nose.

“My God. It really is... ‘Little’ Ivan...?”

Cold sweat trickled down the soldier's face as he examined Ivan's eyes, the bridge of his nose, and his forehead. He hastily signaled the surrounding soldiers back with his eyes, then bowed his head respectfully.

“Lieutenant Colonel Petrovich. It's an honor to meet you.”

“Name?”

“Osip Sorenov. You probably won't know me. I was with the Third Strike Team, and I only ever saw you once, from very far away.”

“I remember now, Osip.”

Ivan released his arm and stepped back. Osip brushed off his knees a couple of times, rose, and respectfully offered his hand. Ivan took it, and they shook.

“Do not mourn those who have gone before.”

“For I, too, stand in their ranks.”

“I heard you were killed in action, Lieutenant Colonel. I distinctly remember seeing your nameplate at the national cemetery...”

“And I never expected there to be a survivor from the Third Strike Team.”

“I lived in place of the finest men of our age.”

“We all did.”

The final mission assigned to every strike team in the Extermination Unit had been to “assassinate the Seven Dragon Generals.” Thus, including Ivan's team, the only one to return alive, any other survivors there might be were merely those left behind, owing their lives to the finest of men.

Ivan patted Osip's shoulder a couple of times and spoke again.

“Call Dmitry for me. And tell him I need a list of the incoming... no, of every undergraduate, and a roster of every member of staff. Observers at the entrance ceremony, VIPs, their families, acquaintances, relatives. Tell him I need the names of everyone who can access Jansk University right now.”

“Yes, Lieutenant Colonel. Hey, inform Lieutenant Colonel Cherkatov! Tell him we have an emergency!”

The agents, still looking bewildered and unable to keep up with events, hurried away. Gazing at the great auditorium, where the entrance ceremony was in full swing, Ivan slowly drew labored breaths.

A Possessor. Korean? No, it didn't matter. It meant someone from Earth. A compatriot from home. Sadly, that was what this person was.

Yes. Both Kim Seonwoo and Ivan felt bitter. Because he would have to kill them.

He needed information about the ending. He had to eliminate variables along the way to that ending. And most importantly...

“I'm no mere NPC.”

Ivan closed his eyes.

I am no mere NPC. My memories, my experiences, my career are not a prologue. I'm not some NPC. My life is more than a passing piece of backstory. I, I... have to survive and go home.

So there are more reasons to kill you than to let you live. Before I hear that I, “Ivan Petrovich,” exist in your goddamned “original.” Before it's too late. Without fail.

* * *

“Hah, haah... hah... What the hell was that lunatic...! An aggro monster? No, fuck, nobody told me there was anything like that! Damn it, damn it, where did it all go wrong!”

After a long spell of panting and wiping away cold sweat, a familiar voice broke in. It was “Father.”

“There you are. Where have you been, and what were you... Never mind. Pathetic.”

“Father...”

“Sit down. All this fuss over a trip to the lavatory. As useless as ever.”

This goddamned “youngest-child scoundrel” role. Wasn't a “scoundrel” story usually a classic fantasy where everyone started fawning over you right after possession? The plan had been to stop this “academy raid” in spectacular fashion and finally turn things around. Instead, the quest had suddenly been canceled!

[“D-Rank Quest” Stop the Academy Raid -Canceled-] [The academy is under attack by an unidentified group! Stop the attack on the great auditorium and academic facilities during the entrance ceremony!] [Objective: Remove explosives on campus 3/3 (Removed)] [Optional Objective: Eliminate intruders -Canceled-] [Optional Objective: Protect incoming students 0/322 -Canceled-] [Reward: -Canceled-]

“Damn it.”

An important early-game quest, gone. Wasn't an academy raid supposed to be the protagonist's grand debut? It had been the perfect opportunity to leave a strong impression on the heroines and future companions and earn the instructors' respect...!

The quest had suddenly canceled itself, prompting a startled rush to investigate, only to result in an encounter with a weirdo who looked like Santa Claus! And what the hell was this now?

[“???-Rank Quest” Gardener of St. Jansk University.] [You have caught his eye. Good luck in battle.] [Objective: Defeat Ivan Petrovich, gardener of St. Jansk University] [Optional Objective: Win over Ivan Petrovich] [Optional Objective: Conceal information] [Additional Objective: Survive] [Failure Penalty: Death]