Infiltrating the Superhuman Training Girls’ School of the Republic of China!

I need to be careful with Katerfeld. It’s common in the field for a previously inconspicuous person to suddenly become the number one person of interest. But this Rebecca Katerfeld is, I declare, someone who needs to be watched especially carefully.

Normally, I wouldn’t make such a mistake. But this time, I have an excuse. It’s a place where a Russian officer and an instructor presumed to be from Chinese intelligence are walking around with their eyes wide open. When getting caught by either of them could be fatal, I can’t just focus solely on marking the daughter of a German parliamentarian.

…Even so, it was indeed a mistake to have been careless without thinking about investigating this ‘spiritual ability’ in detail.

After returning to the dormitory, I calmed myself down, thinking that from tomorrow, Monday, I should look into Katerfeld more. That’s not the only issue I need to deal with tomorrow. I also need to think about the Chen Yayuan matter.

I’ll have to meet her, but what preparations should I make? Is there a possibility she might try to harm me? The CIA said Chen Yayuan’s ability was ‘unclear’. They said that among Huangpu’s incoming students, there are often students whose abilities even U.S. intelligence can’t accurately obtain information about due to the tight security.

All that’s possible is speculation. Judging from Chen’s success in contacting the U.S. while breaking through the school’s surveillance, there’s a strong speculation that she might have an ability suitable for evading someone’s surveillance.

There were no clues to guess her ability from our encounter either…

“What are you doing? Not getting ready for bed?”

Churchill called out to me as I was lost in thought in front of the dressing table. As always, Churchill was parading around the room in just a robe over her naked body, making it difficult to know where to look.

“Ah, I have something to ask permission for.”

“Permission? From me? What permission?”

“I heard you fought with Rebecca Katerfeld.”

“Ah, that crazy bitch?”

It’s strange to hear Churchill call someone else a crazy bitch. It also means Rebecca’s behavior was that bizarre.

“That bitch, she suddenly put her ear close to someone sleeping peacefully and woke them up by suffocating them, you know? Then she suddenly grabbed my hair and slammed me back to the ground. I thought she was a detective from the Chinese Public Security Bureau trying to kill me.”

“I heard you were sleeping on the ground.”

“Ah, that must have been when I rolled off the bench while sleeping. You know I have rough sleeping habits, right?”

“It must be hard to share a bed with anyone.”

“Are you thinking about it? Sharing a bed with me.”

“No. It’s strange that someone who doesn’t wake up even after rolling off a bench while sleeping wakes up because someone puts their ear close.”

“I’m a bit sensitive to human presence. Anyway, why are you talking about that crazy bitch? Did something happen?”

“That woman asked me to take notes of your sleep talk, Briar.”

Hearing this, Churchill burst into laughter. Seeing her holding her stomach and laughing uproariously, I placed a notepad and pen on the dressing table and turned off the bedroom light. Of course, I left one small bulb on the dressing table lit.

“What? Was she really obsessed with that? I thought you were making excuses after getting caught doing something weird. But she really wanted to know the lyrics of that song?”

“Superhumans are all weird originally, aren’t they? It seemed harmless to humor her, so I said I’d write it down for her. Is that okay?”

“As long as she pays royalties properly when releasing an album. Should I charge expensive royalties?”

“It doesn’t seem like she’s trying to release an album with your sleep talk…”

“Why not? If we record and sell it, surprisingly many people might buy it. Eun-young. You seem to not know how great I am because I keep courting you to sleep together. Commoner, I’m Briar Churchill. The hottest woman in Western Europe.”

“I know.”

“I’m the woman who gets called to perform at orchestra theaters for a day, gets called to shake hands at Buckingham Palace, gets asked to handle events at the White House. And the woman the Naval Air Force begs every day to enlist, that’s me.”

“Wow, amazing.”

“Soul! There’s no soul in your music!”

“I’m not a musician, so.”

“Well, anyway. Fine. Write it or not, do as you please. But, since I’m not intentionally memorizing or singing anything, it changes every day, and even I don’t know the content? You have to keep that in mind, okay?”

“Rebecca Katerfeld seemed more interested in that point, actually.”

“Huh? Really? Well, who knows. The thoughts of those superhuman guys.”

Fortunately, Churchill wasn’t particularly displeased that I said I would take notes of her sleep talk. About 5 minutes later, as soon as Briar Churchill lay down on the bed, she fell asleep while singing in a creepy voice.

“Find the feet, find the feet, find the feet coming from afar, find the feet wandering without feet…”

“Is there really any meaning in taking notes of this?”

I muttered, scratching my head while writing down Churchill’s sleep talk on the notepad. An ordinary person might have given up at this point, thinking ‘what’s all this about’, but fortunately, I’m an agent from the intelligence department. Among the orders from superiors, there have been more than a few that I’ve grudgingly followed while thinking ‘what’s the point of this nonsense?’

Thanks to that accumulated experience, I was able to note down the rough lyrics of the sleep talk until Briar Churchill stopped singing and started snoring. It didn’t seem to have any particular meaning, but I tore off the paper, folded it carefully, placed it on the dressing table, and slowly walked towards the bed.

Monday morning dawned. As always, physical training.

Since the midterm exam period had passed, we lightly ran two laps around the field, finished breakfast and shower, and started the morning classes.

Since there’s always running in the morning anyway, I didn’t bring the memo to give to Rebecca. Katerfeld, who came to find me just before the physical training and asked for the memo, seemed disappointed when she heard my answer and left with her head down.

I promised her that I would definitely find her after finishing some simple business during lunch time and give her the memo. Anyway, since she’s someone to be wary of, it might be good to gain her favor by fulfilling a small request.

After finishing the morning math and military science classes, we scattered to eat at our desired times and places in the cafeteria as usual, and then dispersed according to our individual business.

I finished my meal a bit lighter and earlier than usual, returned to the dormitory room, and picked up the memo Rebecca had requested.

I could go straight to the German spiritualist now, but the Chen Yayuan matter was the priority for now.

“Central Hall Library… Audiovisual Room 3…”

As expected, the library is unnecessarily large, just like the building itself. The audiovisual rooms in this library are equipped with large screens and sound systems that wouldn’t lose to those in big city movie theaters.

It probably costs hundreds of millions just to maintain this library. Not to build it, just to maintain it.

I passed through the library corridor and opened the red door to enter the audiovisual room. Unlike Chen Yayuan’s words that she would reserve this room in advance, the room was dark and there was no sign of anyone inside.

“…Is she coming late?”

I muttered, peering into the dark audiovisual room. It would be disappointing if she didn’t show up when I had even eaten quickly to come early in case she came early and waited. Still, I thought it would be okay to go in and wait first, since I might have eaten too early.

Anyway, due to the nature of my ability, I have a way to escape from most traps, or at least a way not to die. Careful, careful. As I was moving to find the light switch to turn on the room lights, I suddenly felt a strange energy in the room.

“…Killing intent? No. Rather than killing intent…”

Killing intent is the energy of someone trying to kill. That is, it’s a living energy.

But this isn’t it.

What I’m feeling now isn’t killing intent…

I stopped in my tracks, flared my nostrils, and sniffed the air in the room. I almost didn’t consciously notice it, but there was a very familiar smell.

“Blood.”

I said, feeling goosebumps all over my body. I hurriedly fumbled along the wall with my hand, searching for the light switch. Suddenly, I felt a damp and cold liquid sensation on my shoes. Something was… seeping into my feet, into my socks.

I felt like I could tell what kind of liquid it was without having to confirm it with my own eyes.

I almost tripped over a chair once before finally finding the light switch and turning on the room lights.

A large screen. Two large speakers placed beside it.

Numerous chairs placed in front of the screen.

It looked like a typical audiovisual room, or rather a movie theater. But there was something in the middle of it that should never be in a normal movie theater.

A corpse.

As if just dead, Chen Yayuan’s corpse, bleeding from the neck, revealed itself in front of me with the light of the lamps.