I Possessed a Broken Academy Instructor

Chapter 17

“Indeed, there’s something going on.”

“Of course. Otherwise, would he be a instructor without any skill?”

“Well, that’s true, but still, it’s not great. What good is skill if he’s got no manners?”

Baek Hwi-young stifled a laugh at the voices of the cadets spilling from the male dormitory as he made his way to his room.

“Ah, Hwi-young. You’ve come?”

“Yeah.”

I ascended the stairs, brushing off greetings from cadets whose names I sometimes struggled to recall.

In truth, it would be more accurate to say there was no time to think of anything else.

His mind was a tangled mess, far beyond what could be described as ‘confused.’

Creeeak—.

I opened the door and stepped into the quarters.

Immediately, the empty bed across the room caught my eye.

“Was it a dropout?”

At first, or rather until recently, I could remember the name and face of the cadet who had been my roommate.

Though perhaps lacking in skill for the Central Special Officer Academy, their character had been decent enough.

But now, those memories eluded me.

The name, the face, even the reason for their departure.

“When I opened my eyes, it was always to an empty bed.”

It was exhausting to recall the ties formed and severed in this cycle of return.

What would happen if, one day, those memories became jumbled, mixed, and I gradually lost my sanity?

As that thought crossed my mind, Baek Hwi-young found himself gripping his neck unconsciously, eyes closed, straining against the pressure.

Creeeak…….

Pain jolted through the fog of his mind.

Finally, as he opened his eyes, he caught a glimpse of ashen irises flickering in the window’s light.

“Ha.”

A red mark lingered on his neck, but there was no need to worry about it.

After all, such marks would vanish quickly for a superhuman, hardly qualifying as a wound at all.

“Shall we begin?”

He sat down in a chair and pulled out a notebook he had tucked deep within a drawer.

The contents were a chaotic scrawl of terms only Baek Hwi-young, who had lived through the future, could decipher.

With a sense of familiarity, he grasped the pen and began to write down the knowledge and experiences he had gathered, one by one.

– Alliance with the Empire. Currently impossible.

– Free Planet Alliance. The council chair is a puppet; the real political power lies with the owners of the five major corporations.

– Separatist guerrilla organization ‘Red Hand.’ It seems larger than expected. What’s the relationship with the owners of the Free Planet Alliance?

– Factions within the military. Led by Rosen and Kuchenhausen. An alliance of minor factions…

The reason he did not transfer this to a device he found comfortable was simple.

It must never leak to the outside.

‘Information too grand for a mere cadet to possess. If the information brokers of the dark web catch a whiff, it would become a nuisance.’

The chance of it being dismissed as the delusions of a single cadet was slim.

Even if one set aside the fact that he was a cadet at the Central Special Operations Academy, there were secrets aplenty about the events soon to unfold and the various factions involved, provided no major variables intervened.

Uploading it to a device would leave a trace of the time spent writing, and unless he was a fool, it would be impossible not to notice that he had something.

Of course, the tales he penned were not necessarily the truth.

The future could shift at any moment.

Yet, the reason he organized his thoughts was akin to a kind of wrong-answer notebook, an attempt to avoid the thorny path he might encounter along the way.

How much had he written down, he wondered.

– Instructor Jin Crow.

As he reached the name he had half-consciously pushed aside, Baek Hwi-young halted the tip of his pen, staring intently at it for the first time.

Then, as if to gather his thoughts, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh mixed with a single murmured phrase.

“…What could it be? What has changed? What on earth is it?”

At first, he thought it was mere coincidence or some other variable.

Though the past had always been the same, to suspect that a single event—returning a bottle—could alter everything was delusional.

Yet that thought soon crumbled.

‘I never had much interest in creatures. No, perhaps I seemed to be deliberately avoiding them.’

He had never brought up creatures during theoretical lectures.

Moreover, the newly established class was not originally scheduled, nor was the instructor Jin Crow.

Ultimately, Baek Hwi-young’s inner turmoil could not help but touch upon the last possibility he had repeatedly dismissed.

‘A regressor?’

If another cadet or instructor had heard this, they might have recommended a mental institution for Baek Hwi-young, for it was a speculation bordering on delusion. Yet paradoxically, it was the most plausible deduction for him.

“That can’t be.”

But he shook his head.

It was far more likely that this past held some other special turning point.

After a moment of contemplation, Baek Hwi-young began to write something beneath Jin Crow’s name.

– Pay careful attention.

Thus, in Baek Hwi-young’s quarters, the only sound that lingered late into the night was the scratching of his pen.

*

“It is true that, for now, resources for studying the creatures are scarce. Until just recently, most referred to them simply as cosmic monsters instead of by their scholarly name, so it’s not surprising.”

Jin Crow’s flat voice echoed within the classroom.

Naturally, the majority of the cadets rubbed their sleepy eyes.

“However, it is quite fortunate that Professor Lee Su-jong’s papers, which have been studying these creatures for nearly a decade, have proven to be a great help to the military. The creatures you saw in the simulation room were all data derived from Dr. Lee’s research.”

Of course, among the cadets of the supernatural realm, there were not a few who were genuinely intrigued by the creatures and focused intently.

“Yet, it is unreasonable to fully apply the cases of colonial planets beyond the defense line. Our situations are different.”

Regardless of the cadets’ reactions, Jin Crow continued his lecture without a hint of concern.

‘…Something feels different.’

Hino Kanae blinked her dark eyes, framed by her long black hair, as she surveyed Jin Crow’s unchanging demeanor.

His eyes, slightly obscured by his black hair, glimmered with a hollow light, and his pale face with slightly sunken cheeks gave the impression of a frail and sickly man.

Yet, combined with his well-trained physique, he was not unpleasant to behold.

‘I understand his skill. But I still don’t like him.’

The fleeting image he had shown the cadets in the simulation room had struck her deeply.

However, that did not mean she would endorse his radical and extreme ideologies.

What she revered was the distant past, the spirit of her homeland’s bushido, not the madness of suicide squads pushing people into the jaws of death with bomb packages.

“Cadet… um.”

It was then.

“Hino Kanae.”

“…Miss.”

“Hmm?”

Lost in her thoughts, she was jolted back to reality by the whisper of Huma Kentaro, a retainer of the Hino clan sitting beside her.

And soon, she realized that Jin Crow was calling for her, prompting her to rise from her seat.

“Yes, Instructor.”

“I did not say to stand. Sit down.”

“…Ah, yes.”

She tried to ignore her reddening cheeks and maintained her composure as she gazed at Jin Crow.

She felt the mocking or amused gazes of the other cadets, but the more they laughed, the more she knew she must not falter.

“How dare…”

The members of the Hino clan, including Huma Kentaro sitting beside her, narrowed their brows, but that was merely their role to play.

“Silence.”

Yet, it was but a fleeting moment; the commotion that had lingered in the classroom settled as if it had never existed at the utterance of Jin Crow.

He narrowed his brow, as if displeased, but soon shook his head in resignation and spoke.

“Just now, you mentioned the differences between the colonial planets outside the defense line and those within it. Explain.”

“……The colonial planets outside the defense line belong to the Federation of the United Human Synthesis, but they are deemed incapable of adopting the advanced political system of democracy, thus becoming havens for alien races or criminals. Therefore, the governance of each colonial planet is entrusted to the governor’s office dispatched through lawful procedures.”

Hino Kanae’s response was devoid of embellishment.

However, she could not help but feel a twinge of bewilderment at the question that followed from Jin Crow.

“Then, do you know why the differences become pronounced when comparing colonial planets to the constituent planets of the Federation in relation to the Creatures?”

“……Pardon?”

What is this sudden shift in logic?

Hino Kanae blinked, her red eyes wide for a moment, but she soon found her voice.

“It is the difference in military strength, organization, and management. The defense line is, quite literally, systematically managed by the Galactic Federation Army under the Ministry of Defense, while the colonial planets’ defensive capabilities vary according to the discretion of each governor’s office.”

In truth, it was a fundamental argument.

When one substituted the opponent with an empire instead of Creatures, this was the typical assertion that arose.

Perhaps that was why.

“Hmm, a half-hearted answer. Sit down.”

“……Yes.”

Jin Crow spoke with a look of dissatisfaction, and Hino Kanae could only feign calmness as she nodded and returned to her seat.

“Pfft!”

“Don’t laugh out loud. It’s rude.”

In the background, the irritating chatter of Dokgoran and Pamiu reached her ears, but she paid it no mind.

“Any other opinions?”

“Me!”

“Cadet Dokgoran. Speak.”

“Yes! It’s simply because the colonial planets are weak!”

“A thoughtless answer, lacking in substance. Three penalty points.”

“Eh, eh?! Ugh!”

“Haah, how embarrassing. You really have no thoughts… Ah, right. You didn’t, did you?”

As Pamiu’s quiet words drifted through the air, it was a familiar sight to see Dokgoran rampaging without a thought.

In fact, it was almost a relief.

A moment ago, the answer spat out by Dokgo Ran was so wretched that her own response must have seemed a touch better by comparison.

“Is there no other cadet willing to speak?”

Unable to bear the silence, Kinyatio scanned the room, his gaze sweeping over the cadets.

Yet, none of the others had the confidence to offer a reply better than Hino Kanae’s, and so the atmosphere thickened with silence.

‘Hmm, as expected.’

Thanks to this, the corners of Hino Kanae’s mouth curled slightly upward, while Jin Crow’s eyes sank deeper, but still, the cadets merely exchanged furtive glances.

“Um… Excuse me.”

At that moment, a girl cadet sitting beside a boy with ashen hair at the back of the classroom cautiously raised her hand.

“Cadet, Miel Anber.”

“Yes, yes!”

With her squirrel-like chestnut hair and eyes, all eyes turned to her.

“Uh, hiccup!”

Was she startled by the gaze of over a hundred people?

Or was it merely the shock of Jin Crow calling her name?

Either way, the surprise was evident on Miel Anber’s face as she shrank back, but as Jin Crow waited quietly, she seemed to gather her courage, her lips trembling as she finally spoke.

“Um, which side suffers more damage?”

“Hmm?”

Naturally, the cadets who heard her words could only stare at Miel Anber in disbelief.

‘…Is she foolish?’

Hino Kanae felt the same.

In a colonial planet with barely any competent special officers, maintaining a fleet-level military force, which side among the federal planets, with their hundreds of thousands, even millions of troops, suffers more?

It was a question with an answer so obvious it hardly warranted a response.

“Ah, um. What I meant was…”

Only then did Miel Anber seem to realize the nature of her inquiry, her face flushing a deep crimson as she fumbled for an explanation.

“You’ve hit the blind spot.”

But just then, a calm voice from the podium made the cadets question their ears.

“The damage to the colonial planets is far less severe.”

Jin Crow added, tapping the podium with his gloved fingers, as if intrigued.

“Now, let’s hear your reasoning.”