1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

152. I Don’t Want to Go to Adel Hall (1)

“I’ve grown to dislike the idea of going to Adel Hall.”

Rockefeller found himself momentarily speechless at Hessel’s words.

To suddenly come to the office and bring up such matters.

“Please retract that.”

Rockefeller gathered his thoughts, pondering the true reason he wished to avoid the Adel Hall.

‘It seems you have no regrets at all. But really, is there any reason to go to Adel Hall?’

He was skilled, and he had plenty of coin.

Though the Shulafe Hall was steeped in discomfort, he enjoyed nearly all the privileges that an Adel Hall student could claim.

‘With ample capital, there’s no need to fret over living expenses.’

The pride that came with his position, and the way the world regarded Adel Hall, were the same.

The proof had been settled the moment he hunted the bloodied viper.

Moreover, just recently, he had effortlessly crushed a Kerdnel in front of the entire student body.

Rockefeller’s mind became a tangled web.

‘It’s a good thing this fellow isn’t entering the Adel Hall’s Department of Magic. But…’

Hessel felt no merit in Adel Hall whatsoever.

The means to transfer him to the Knights’ Division had vanished.

Above all, there was a more pressing concern.

If this flamboyant student remained in Shulafe Hall, it was only natural that the professors’ gazes would grow sharp.

‘If they treat a man recognized by the elders poorly, it will only appear as torment in the eyes of the headquarters.’

…Even if he explained that he had refused, they wouldn’t believe it.

Regardless of his achievements, the public’s assessment of him was merely that of a greedy scoundrel.

The thought of a high-ranking official visiting this place someday sent chills down Rockefeller’s spine.

Then, suddenly, he became curious about Hessel’s intentions.

‘But why does he dislike it? There’s no reason to linger in Shulafe Hall.’

It was strange when he thought about it.

Even without any compelling attachment, wouldn’t promotion be a good thing?

Living expenses would increase, and he’d be exempt from the Monster Defense Trials.

And all of this would be granted without the hassle of tedious procedures.

‘What could it be? The Hessel van Tenest I know would snatch even a child’s tear-soaked bread. He was a highwayman, always looking to extort something from the professors. Yet he’s willing to give this up?’

Recalling the Hessel he had known, Rockefeller could only think that there must be something he was aiming for this time as well.

‘What on earth is this? What schemes lie hidden in that dark heart?’

Rockefeller steadied his frayed nerves, attempting to probe subtly. He wore a mask of calm, as if utterly unfazed.

A slight scratch of irritation was all it took to reveal his true colors.

“I must admit, I appreciate your grasp of the situation, even if it comes late. After all, with skills like yours, the Adel Academy’s Ministry of Magic is hardly more than a pearl necklace on a pig’s neck, wouldn’t you say?”

He expected Hershel to bristle at the mocking tone, to respond with disdain.

Yet, Hershel merely nodded in agreement.

“Indeed. Perhaps if it were the Bürger Academy, it might be different, but for Adel, you’re still quite unseasoned. I’ll take that as you understanding.”

Without a hint of hesitation, Hershel turned his back.

Rockefeller felt a pang of realization.

Then, a thought flickered through his mind.

‘Is he trying to draw me to the negotiation table? Is this all to secure a favorable position for himself?’

If that were the case, he must know something.

He must understand that if he didn’t go to Adel, the professors would be in a bind.

Given his confidence, that seemed the most likely scenario.

‘Oh, this slippery little snake…’

Rockefeller furrowed his brow and asked bluntly.

“Enough of this childish nonsense. Get to the point.”

Hershel halted, turning his head.

“What’s this all of a sudden? Childish nonsense?”

His face bore a hint of confusion, but to Rockefeller, it appeared nothing short of brazen.

With a deep sigh, Rockefeller pressed on.

“What’s your reasoning behind this? It would be a shame to dismiss the benefits of Adel Academy as if it were a mere option.”

At Rockefeller’s inquiry, Hershel let his gaze drop, responding quietly.

“I have Limberton and Asley, who have been with me this far. I couldn’t bear to go alone.”

“…Those two?”

Rockefeller’s eyes flickered with unease.

Those two were a brawler who wielded no sword and an archer.

While he acknowledged their exceptional skills, they were hardly aligned with the formal curriculum offered by the Academy.

‘Still, I had planned to elevate them to Bürger Academy out of respect. But this brat…’

I won’t go to Adel just because it suits me.

At first glance, it seemed a statement of loyalty, yet it was a clear threat to elevate those two to the Adel Bureau.

Rockefeller sighed, pondering how he had come to this dire state.

“Asley and Limberton. I will write them a letter of recommendation. If you understand, you will retract your opinion.”

This was a significant concession, a hundred times over, yet Hershel’s eyes widened in shock.

“What do you mean?”

Truly, he was an audacious one.

What more he intended to extract was beyond comprehension, but he was no fool to be taken in that easily.

Rockefeller’s face flushed with rage as he dismissed Hershel.

With each passing day, that scoundrel evolved into a more cunning adversary.

* * *

He had planned to remain, citing plausible reasons.

The human heart is fickle, changing with the moment.

Initially, there was an advantage in being able to scrutinize the script up close, but now it seemed the drawbacks outweighed the benefits.

It was all too clear that he would force me, the supposed supporting character, into the fray against my will.

Yet, it had spectacularly backfired, resulting in Asley and Limberton being promoted to the Adel Bureau.

How had it come to this?

“Could it be that I’ve been discovered? To propose such outrageous terms…”

Rockefeller thrived on ruining my future.

Had he somehow grasped my aversion to the Adel Bureau?

No, even if he didn’t know, he was a seasoned sociopath, adept at sensing the students’ suffering. Perhaps he had instinctively felt it.

“Ugh.”

I exhaled a sigh, when suddenly, footsteps echoed from somewhere.

Before I knew it, I was walking through the lobby of the Shulafe Bureau.

Someone came rushing toward me, a group of them, in a chaotic swarm.

Their attire made me frown.

Simple garments in black and white, adorned with a sun emblem on their chests.

They were the Sun Sect, affiliated with the Frost Heart.

A man stepped forward, blocking my path. Judging by the silent smiles of his companions, he seemed to hold some rank.

In his hand, he clutched a book, obscured enough to be presumed the sect’s scripture.

“What is this?”

Words tumbled from my mouth, tinged with a hint of displeasure.

The corners of his lips curled up in a sly smile, eyes narrowed, giving off an unsettling impression.

An aura of a cult leader seemed to seep from him, as if he were about to ask, “Do you know the way?”

“Unless you’re here to preach, I suggest you leave.”

As I openly expressed my distaste, the man replied in a soft, almost soothing voice.

“Oh, we would never impose our beliefs. Salvation comes to those who seek it themselves. Well, I’ve shared the doctrines of the New World in our usual cultural classes, so I won’t bore you with the details.”

He produced a book that I suspected was a Bible.

Yet the cover felt familiar. It was undoubtedly a genre novel I had read before.

Ah, a mistake on my part.

“Actually, it’s about Hessel? I heard you requested this book, so I thought I’d come see for myself.”

“Seems you enjoyed it. So, have you come to express your gratitude?”

They must have grown weary, reading the same old scriptures day in and day out.

In their youthful vigor, they had been chanting about gods, and now their eyes wandered elsewhere.

I shrugged my shoulders and left a brief suggestion.

“How about reading something like that in the next cultural class instead of the Bible? The ones who’ve been dozing off might just wake up.”

As I attempted to pass by him, his companions blocked my path.

“Hmm?”

“Are you referring to such unhealthy literature?”

“…Unhealthy, you say?”

As I inquired, the man flicked the book open, pointing at the lines within.

The protagonist was a vengeful soul who had lost his family to demons.

It was a description of when he forsook his beliefs and stained his hands with blood.

[Helderik thought. To dirty one’s hands is the will of the divine.]

[Then, could he not also be a being close to a demon?]

[If he is omnipotent, that may indeed be the case. The death of his family, the birth of demons—these could only be seen as his design. If he were to offer some fortunate excuse, claiming he had no choice but to let it happen due to limitations, then he is not omnipotent. A demon or a trickster, they are one and the same. Either way, it is hard to view him as a force for good.]

Hmm, quite a blasphemous statement there.

Feeling a bit awkward, I proposed a solution.

“Just label it a forbidden book for the faithful.”

The man maintained his smile, but his eyebrows twitched slightly.

“I believe this book should be burned, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t it my freedom to choose what to read? And these books were brought in according to the standards set by the professors. There’s no need to bicker with me over religious matters. If you want to argue, go take it up with Rockefeller.”

The man fell silent, like a mute who had swallowed honey.

As I passed through them, I halted and posed a question.

“Speaking of which, I’m curious. If you were the protagonist Helderik in a novel, what do you think you would feel?”

Without hesitation, the man replied.

“I would consider it all to be the will of the divine.”

Though I am an atheist, I couldn’t help but think that perhaps he might be right.

Of course, the god they believed in was a counterfeit, crafted by the ultimate shadowy group of Asares known as ‘The Eye of Eternity.’

But if a true god were watching from somewhere, perhaps there was a purpose behind it all.

“Helderik only realized that in the final moments.”

As I lightly spoiled the ending, the man’s displeasure seemed to fade a bit.

The sect that had seized control of the student council had no need to stir up friction just yet.

I felt a need to lower the hostility a little, to establish a sort of mutual non-aggression pact.

“Anyway, I have no intention of infringing upon your freedom of religion. As long as you don’t cause me any trouble, that’s all that matters.”

With that final remark, I took my leave.

* * *

The next day, at 11 AM.

In the Shulape Hall of the Ministry of Magic classroom, students whispered anxiously, their faces a mix of anticipation and dread.

The topic was all about the upcoming promotions.

“Oh, if I could just make it to the Bürger Hall, I’d have no more wishes left.”

“They say if you don’t get good grades in the first semester of your first year, it takes ages to get promoted. Or you might end up stuck until graduation…”

“The results are coming out today, right? Oh, I’m so nervous I could die.”

Even the old professor, who usually lectured with fervor, seemed to understand the gravity of the moment this time.

It was an important juncture, and it was not hard to empathize with their feelings.

Dorothian closed her book with a frown. Unsurprisingly, it was not a textbook but a genre novel.

“Ugh, be quiet. Why all the fuss?”

“It’s a promotion; isn’t it natural to be concerned? Just getting to Bürger Hall means an increase in living expenses and various benefits.”

“Hmm? It’s not so bad now. Except for the part about not being able to leave.”

Assigned to Shulape Hall, yet enjoying all the benefits, Dorothian had quite the charmed life.

“Well, you only take classes here, so you wouldn’t know, being treated like a guest. The reality of Shulafe Hall is that even the shabby dormitory isn’t exactly comfortable.”

“Oh, really?”

Dorothian opened her book again, as if uninterested.

The noise around us persisted, but she seemed determined to read through it all.

I let out a deep sigh, glancing at the old professor seated before us.

He too seemed to think today’s lesson had flopped, looking as if he wanted to rest.

“I was listening, you know…”

With no other choice, I opened a genre novel as well.

But then Dorothian, sitting beside me, stole a glance and smirked slightly.

“Oh, I’ve read that book. The ending is definitely…”

Who dared to spoil it?

“The protagonist dies?”

“……”

Dorothian’s unimpressed expression softened, and she spoke.

“Are you reading something you’ve already seen?”

“Reading it twice has its own charm. Once you know the ending, the foreshadowing you laid out earlier becomes much clearer.”

I turned my gaze away from her and focused on my reading.

For a while, I listened intently to the murmurs and the sound of pages turning.

Before long, the bell rang.

It was lunchtime.

Yet the students’ footsteps were not headed toward the dining hall, but rather toward the bulletin board.

Well, there wasn’t anything particularly surprising.

As expected, it was me, Asley, Limberton, and Dorothian.

And Rix and Klave were assigned to Adel Hall.

Rix’s remaining crew had been promoted to Bürger Hall.

A faint chuckle escaped me.

Now that I thought about it, I must have vowed on the first day of school.

It felt like just yesterday when I had raged about entering Adel Hall from my room in Shulafe Hall.

It was a bit nostalgic, to say the least.

* * *

A splendid carriage advanced toward the colossal gates.

Soldiers clad in armor as pristine as the dawn stepped aside with rigid strides.

“Lord Gilrum has arrived. Open the gates!”

At the captain’s warm welcome, Gilrum smiled broadly, waving his hand through the window.

The carriage entered the imperial palace.

As the attendants approached respectfully to open the door, Gilrum set his feet upon the ground.

Then he resumed the thoughts he had been mulling over during the journey.

‘Gedgar, too, and all of them—there’s a complete lack of vigilance.’

In truth, Gilrum secretly resonated with their sentiments.

To equate a scoundrel with that once-great man was indeed a matter worthy of mockery.

Yet, if there exists even a speck of something that could disrupt the peace, is it not wise to keep a watchful eye?

‘Hussel Ben Tenest is at Frost Heart, they say? No, wait. Frost Heart means…’

Gilrum recalled a fragment of memory he had set aside for a moment.

“Cluck, cluck, cluck. Ah, that’s right.”

The noble lady of Derabian, who had used Tenest’s name as a shield.

The girl with the wild hair had fled there as well.

—