Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Genius Professor-Chapter 212: Verification (3)

“Let’s head west of Hiaka....”

I sat the old man in the passenger seat and drove. On the way, Galois’s breathing grew heavier, sss... like someone on the verge of a panic attack. If communication is about understanding each other, then I was communicating with him through this silence.

“S... sss....”

He was a man going somewhere he didn’t want to go. A place he couldn’t approach alone. Using me as an excuse, as courage, he was heading toward that place.

I glanced at the navigation orb.

< Destination: Grandray City >

It was the hometown of Chief Professor Galois Grandray, and also his Achilles’ heel. During the Second Assassination War, his research spell, the 9th-level magic 『Land Reclamation』, had caused tens of thousands of casualties.

I didn’t ask why we were going there. I even closed the 【Script】 log. That was respect. Then he spoke first.

“I researched... for money.”

“Money, huh.”

“Think about it. A curse that makes everyone cheerful, yet has no addictiveness, no harmful effects... something that could be offered as a simple perfume or potion....”

The old man smirked. “Humans are shackled by useless pretenses as they grow up. Isn’t that why they pour alcohol down their throats? But this curse could replace alcohol. It’d make a fortune.”

“I didn’t know you were a money fiend.”

“Money’s the best. I love money! Once your Verification is complete, you’ll figure out a way to cut the price.”

“......”

“The happy will buy this curse because they’re happy, the miserable because they’re miserable. Everyone living on this earth will seek it. And I’ll be sitting on a pile of money! Jealous, you brat?”

Hihihik! He laughed like he was thrilled. Yet when he spoke of miserable people, it felt like he was talking about himself. Because he always carried that faint fragrance. For as long as I’d known him, he’d always been intoxicated by this 『Curse of Pettiness.』

Soon I would know why.

“We’re almost there. Where do I go?”

“There’s a place called Grandray Central Orphanage. Take me there.”

When I entered ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) Grandray City with the old man leaning on his cane, I saw an unpleasant sight.

From the entrance of the city, massive portraits of Galois were hung up—burned, stabbed, defaced with red ink.

Though the town had suffered a major disaster over a decade ago, it was now full of people. The royal family’s generous aid had helped, and outsiders had poured in thanks to its trade-route location.

And yet, whether long-time citizens or newcomers, everyone hated Galois.

Indeed, tents surrounded City Hall, set up by protesters. The placards showed they’d been protesting for over 3,000 days. Beside them, demonstrators under the name [Grandray Victims’ Alliance] were shouting.

“Support the bereaved families of the victims!”

“Support them! Support them!”

It didn’t matter to me whether they protested here or not. But since they were using defaced photos of the Chief Professor’s face everywhere, I glanced at him.

“......”

But Galois just sat silently in the passenger seat.

“I didn’t expect Grandray City to be like this, Chief.”

“What do you mean.”

“As far as I know, both the royals and you gave this city plenty of compensation and support. But look at the angle of those chicks’ beaks—it’s not ordinary.”

“Oh? You brat... when people have died, what the hell is ‘plenty of compensation’? The dead aren’t coming back....”

The road to the orphanage passed by City Hall, so the chants grew louder.

“So the money talk earlier was because of this. To support this city.”

“That’s right. It has to be me. I’ll pay it back until the day I die.”

“You owe them something?”

“Of course I do.”

“What.”

“Sin.”

His voice was firm. Strange. Galois had no reason to be guilty. The Grandray massacre was the work of Kreutz, wasn’t it? If a lunatic stabs someone with a kitchen knife, is it the blacksmith who made the knife who should feel sorry? That’s not how I saw it. But this old man bore the guilt of a blacksmith.

“Well, let’s say that’s true. You’re dying soon anyway—why bother paying it back?”

“You brat. Precisely because I’m dying, I have to pay it back. Should I become a ghost and pay then?”

“And when you pay it back, you’ll be gone.”

“I don’t matter. What remains after I’m gone is what matters....”

That was when several men stepped out and blocked the road.

It was the middle of the street, so I braked in surprise. The burly one in front made a hand gesture.

—Open the door.

Why the hell was he telling me to open the door? I thought for a moment, then realized—the license plate marked us as an Academy car.

—Hey. Open up. Can’t you hear?

I looked at Galois. His expression was gloomy, like he couldn’t face the citizens of Grandray. The assassins’ cars were always tinted, so they couldn’t see inside yet. I cast [Illusion] to disguise both our faces, then rolled down the window.

“What’s the matter.”

“What’s the matter with you? What’s an Academy bastard doing in Grandray?”

“I’ve got business at the orphanage.”

“What business.”

“That I can’t tell you.”

“What are you playing at? Don’t stall. Fine then. State your name and identity first. And if the Academy’s got business in Grandray, you should’ve asked our Victims’ Alliance for cooperation first.”

That sounded strange to me.

Galois remained silent like a guilty man, so I asked back.

“Why would I ask your cooperation?”

“What?”

“What authority do you people have?”

It was just a genuine question, but the man shut his mouth and stiffened.

“......”

That murderous aura wasn’t something an ordinary civilian would have. An average person would probably imagine their own death just from standing there. This guy was an assassin. But what was an assassin doing among protestors?

“Hey.”

An arm suddenly reached in.

“Get out.”

He grabbed the handle and yanked. Click—the door opened. He gestured again.

“Do I look like I’m joking? Get out, you bastard.”

What choice did I have? I had to step out.

I was about to get out obediently when Galois’s bony hand grabbed my arm.

“Don’t. Just give them a few coins.”

“Why? They said to get out.”

“Just... read the room. Hm? We didn’t come here to fight....”

It was guilt again. A crushing sense of debt toward the whole city, making Galois endlessly weak and compliant.

“Alright.”

At this point, I wasn’t a professor or assassin—just some young man accompanying an old acquaintance. So I went along.

“Sorry. I didn’t know the local customs.”

“What, you bastard?”

“Don’t be angry. Take this as a small token.”

I tossed them a pouch. About fifty thousand Hika inside.

Clink—

Their expressions lightened a little.

“And the old man inside?”

“See for yourself.”

Under the [Illusion], his face was just some other old man’s. They nodded, then stepped back.

“Don’t cause trouble. If you’re Academy scum and get roughed up, you’ve only yourself to blame.”

On the back of their clothes was written: [Grandray Victims’ Alliance – Hiaka must compensate Grandray and its victims]. I didn’t think much of it, but one doubt lingered inside me.

......So, are they really the Victims’ Alliance?

***,

I soon realized why Galois wanted to come to the Grandray orphanage.

“Ch-Chief Professor...! How did you...!”

The moment we entered, the staff rushed over to greet him.

“It’s dangerous. You can’t just show up unannounced like this...!”

“Fools. I’m still a great mage, you know.”

“You’re an old man who was a great mage! You should’ve called us instead....”

“Right! If you’d asked, we could’ve come to you...!”

Then several staff members recognized me and quickly bowed, startled. I returned the gesture calmly.

“This lad is basically my teaching assistant today. He’s escorting me.”

“Huh? Really...?”

“Professor Dante... is that you...?”

“Wow... incredible....”

“See? This Galois is still impressive, eh? Uheheh!”

The old man had reduced me to his keyring, but I didn’t particularly mind.

“Ahem. Anyway... could I see the children?”

At those words, the staff exchanged uneasy looks.

“Uh... it might be better if you watch from a distance.”

“Still not fond of me?”

“It’s not that... but lately, the Victims’ Alliance has been handing out flyers to the kids every day. We keep telling them it’s not true, that you’re a good person, but....”

Galois simply nodded.

—Director, Director!

As if summoned, two little girls burst into the office. They giggled as they entered, but when they saw Galois, their faces froze—like they’d seen a ghost.

What shocked me more was the staff’s reaction.

“Hey! Lemon, Lime! How many times have I told you to knock before entering the director’s office!”

“......ah, ah....”

“Come here, now.”

Their eyes, a mix of shock and disgust, and their little brains stalling. A teacher hurried them out. That alone told me what kind of image Galois had in this city.

“Sorry, Professor... we should’ve explained better....”

The director sighed and pounded his chest.

“It’s fine.”

“...They’re real bastards. After you donated all your wealth, rebuilt the orphanage and the facilities... and they still treat you like this....”

“Hey now, don’t curse.”

Just like with me, Galois reassured them with words of acceptance.

Meanwhile, my eyes met a boy’s. He’d been peeking through the crack in the door. When I caught him, he bolted. I stepped out after him.

He ran down the hall, but I was an assassin with long legs. I easily caught up with him.

“Uwah! Wh-when did you...!”

He tripped and fell.

“Why are you running?”

He scrambled up, glaring at me.

“You... you’re from Hiaka Academy, aren’t you?”

“That’s right.”

“Then you’re with that old man? With Professor Galois?”

“I am.”

“......”

The boy stammered, shocked. Up close, he looked familiar. A glance at his [●Nametag] told me why.

● Boy: Odilen

“You’re Odian’s little brother.”

His eyes went wide as if about to tear apart.

“...You... know my brother?”

“Of course. I just saw him yesterday.”

“H-how...?”

The boy’s lips trembled. “My brother... h-he’s dead... Professor Galois killed him....”

“No. Your brother’s alive. He’s a professor at Hiaka Academy.”

“B-but... they said he’s dead....”

“I told you, he’s fine. If you want, I’ll even let you talk to him.”

“Y-you can... call him...?”

I didn’t know Odian’s number, but with one intermediary, I got it quickly. During the process, I asked:

“Who told you your brother was dead?”

“Um... th-the Victims’ Alliance... the men there...”

Soon, the call connected.

—Hello?

It was Odian’s voice. Odilen stared at me, trembling.

“Professor Odian.”

—Ah, Professor Dante!

“Your brother’s here with me.”

—What? Ah, yes. But I’ve been in regular contact with him.

What was he talking about?

“B-brother...!”

—Huh? Odilen? Long time no hear your voice. But why are you crying? We just exchanged letters the other day.

“That never happened!!”

—...What?!

The younger brother burst into sobs. The older tried to console him, sounding confused.

From their exchange, I realized: they’d been exchanging letters through the [Victims’ Alliance].

So they’d told the little brother his sibling was dead. Why? To make it sound like Galois had killed him.

And once again, at the center of it all was the so-called [Victims’ Alliance].

***

“Let’s head back, Chief.”

“...Alright....”

After the orphanage visit, I returned the old man to the Academy. Then I went back to Grandray City alone.

I pulled a sword from my waist.

“Hey. You there—what are you?”

The same burly thugs stepped out to meet me.

I’d finished my Verification of formulas and calculations. Now it was time to verify this with a blade.

“You lot. Are you really the ‘Victims’ Alliance’?”