Reborn Financier-Chapter 58: Missing

It began slowly—like the unsettling quiet before a storm.

One student failed to show up to class. Another never returned from morning drills. A few more disappeared from their dorms overnight, their beds cold and unslept in. Most thought it was stress. A prank. Someone skipping off with a lover or getting expelled for something scandalous.

But it didn’t stop.

Within two weeks, nine students vanished.

No warnings. No screams. No signs of struggle. Just... gone.

It wasn’t until Meng Ji disappeared that the unease thickened into fear.

She had been the only known survivor of the night Raelius died—a brutal, bloody affair no one wanted to talk about openly but couldn’t forget. She’d been hospitalized after the incident, her body broken and bruised, her mana system overexerted.

Two days ago, the nurses had seen her sleeping. Calm. Breathing steadily.

The next morning, her bed was empty.

No signs of exit. No notes. No broken windows or melted locks. Just a faint scorch mark under the bed, like someone—or something—had been standing there for too long.

Students whispered in panicked tones, faces pale with dread. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

> "Was it him again?"

"What if the academy is cursed?"

"They said Kaidën was involved in Raelius’s death... what if he’s still killing?"

Fear breeds fiction. But fiction had a root in truth.

The academy’s silence couldn’t cover the anxiety forever.

***********************************************

Kaidën’s Dorm – Two Days Later

A pencil spun in slow arcs through the air before falling back into Kaidën’s fingers. Again. And again. His other arm was tucked behind his head as he lay sprawled across the bed, blankly staring at the ceiling like it owed him answers.

His dorm was quiet. Spartan. Only the faintest trace of life gave it any warmth—his boots by the door, the half-open window, the untouched sword rack.

Kaidën wasn’t bothered by the whispers.

Missing students? Not his problem. Meng Ji? He’d fought alongside her once. That was all. She was strong. Resourceful. If she couldn’t survive, it wasn’t his concern. He hadn’t asked for friends or followers.

He just wanted to be left alone.

Peace was a luxury, and one he had to slice his way through a battlefield to earn. All he wanted now was to blend in—to exist in the lull between chaos.

But life, as always, had other plans.

A sound broke the quiet.

A soft, intentional rustle. Not from the door being opened. Not from footsteps. Just a shift in the air.

Kaidën sat up slightly.

Lying just inside the room, resting on the smooth floor, was a single envelope.

It hadn’t been there a moment ago.

Black as obsidian, sealed with crimson wax. No footsteps led to it. No magical fluctuation. It was simply... there.

Kaidën stared at it for a long moment. Then sighed.

He rose from the bed, picked up the envelope, and studied the wax seal. The crest of the academy was pressed into it, but stylized—sharper, darker. This wasn’t from a student. This was from him.

"Tch. Of course it is."

He cracked the seal.

Inside, a card written in smooth, calculated script:

"Effective immediately, you are summoned to assist the Student Council in the disappearance investigations. Consider this your chance to silence the accusations and clear your name. – Headmaster Alrich."

Kaidën’s expression didn’t change. But the air around him did.

Mana hissed faintly in the air, rippling with frustration. His fingers curled around the card until it began to crumple, black flames licking its edges before dying out under his will.

"Clear my name?"

"I should be clearing my peace, not my name."

"If I just don’t do anything, I would finally be cleared, but, Noooooooo!!!"

He dropped the half-burned parchment onto the table and sat back down.

"If he weren’t the Headmaster... and Steven’s friend... I’d have sent him to rest. And maybe then... I could rest too."

His blood boiled, not from rage—but from exhaustion.

Every time he tried to live quietly, to remain in the background, the world dragged him back. Like a curse. Like the universe refused to let someone like him stay invisible.

Still.

He couldn’t ignore the Headmaster.

Not because he feared him—but because Alrich knew things. Dangerous things. Things about Kaidën no one else should.

So, with a resigned breath, Kaidën dressed.

Uniform, cloak, gauntlets. He tied his sash slowly, methodically. No flourish. Just duty. As if stepping into armor he hadn’t asked to wear again.

Then he stepped out into the hall and made his way toward the designated meeting place.

***********************************************

The Old Watchtower – Strategy Room, 4th Floor

The watchtower was rarely used.

Once a relic of the academy’s defensive architecture, it had become more ceremonial than functional. But today, it buzzed with quiet tension. The fourth floor, converted into a strategy hall, was dimly lit by brass lanterns and mana-powered glyph-lights.

The room itself was rectangular, its stone walls lined with maps, arcane charts, and enchanted boards that shifted layouts as new data was added.

Twelve people were already inside.

Three wore the red-gold cloaks of the Student Council. Regal, authoritative. The center figure stood with his arms crossed—tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired. Eyes like flint. Leonhart Vale, President of the Student Council. S-Class.

The other nine were volunteers.

Mixed from Class A and B. A sharp-eyed noble girl with twin sabers. A lanky, white-haired boy with illusion magic rings on his fingers. A scarred Class B brawler who looked like he wanted to punch the stone table out of boredom. All gathered, watching the door.

When Kaidën entered, the room grew colder.

Not from magic. From silence.

Twelve pairs of eyes turned toward him. Some narrowed. Some widened. One of the Class A students leaned toward another and whispered—not softly.

"Why’s he here?"

"The killer walks among us..."

Kaidën didn’t flinch. He didn’t glare. He didn’t defend.

He just walked to the furthest corner, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes like he was already regretting being here but at least no one can tell if his eyes was closed (Someone say Blindfold).

His presence was a storm barely held back by a thin shell of disinterest.

"I swear," he muttered beneath his breath, "if they ask me to partner with some idiot noble kid who thinks he’s a genius, I’ll start the disappearances myself."

The silence finally broke when Leonhart stepped forward.

"Let’s begin."

His voice cut through the room like a blade—clear, commanding, practiced.

"This isn’t a training exercise," he said. "This isn’t a mission for glory or house reputation. This is a crisis. Nine students are missing. Meng Ji among them."

The name struck differently. Even the cockier students flinched.

Leonhart continued, tone even.

"There are signs of forced teleportation. Of dark magic. Possibly demonic in origin. But no conclusive evidence yet. That’s where we come in."

He gestured to the board behind him, where glowing dots marked areas around the academy campus—training fields, libraries, outer dorms.

"You’ll be split into teams. Patrol. Investigate. Report. You are not to engage if you encounter anything hostile. Observe and fall back."

Then, his eyes locked on Kaidën.

"But if you’re attacked... survive."

A murmur passed through the room.

And Kaidën?

He didn’t react.

But his thoughts were loud.

"Of course. Throw me into it and act like it’s a favor. I should’ve stayed in bed."

To be continued...