The next morning, my condition was, as expected, a complete wreck.
My eyes opened, but my head hadn’t cleared, my shoulders were stiff, and my mood was foul.
It was a far cry from a good morning.
I roughly washed my face and left the room.
The corridor already smelled of people.
The smell of water, the smell of soap, the smell of baked bread, the smell of half-awake humans.
The dormitory cafeteria was noisy from early morning.
It was noisy, but rather than feeling lively, everyone was chattering with moderately anxious faces, which made it even more exhausting.
I found an empty seat and started shoving down bread and soup.
It didn’t taste like much.
But in the sense that this school seemed to have no intention of making people happy through food, it was consistent.
At some point, Mia had taken the seat across from me and was picking out the meat first.
A truly practical set of eating habits.
It was almost worthy of respect.
“Today’s the first class, right?”
Mia asked.
“Yeah.”
“Nervous?”
“More annoyed than nervous.”
“Aren’t they similar?”
“Not at all.”
I took another spoonful of soup.
It was an ambiguous temperature, neither hot nor lukewarm.
That’s life, I guess.
“What about you?”
“I think the Sword Dance Department will be fun.”
“I’m jealous.”
“You don’t look jealous.”
I wasn’t.
The Sword Dance Department smelled like it treated people as weapons from the very start.
It’d be good for someone who fit in there.
But I wouldn’t last long in a place like that.
The Strategy and Administration Department wasn’t impressive.
But precisely because it wasn’t impressive, there was room to survive for a long time.
At least, that was what I believed.
After finishing the meal and heading toward the classroom building, no one brought up what had happened yesterday, to a strangely unnatural degree.
That made it even more unsettling.
At this point, someone was suppressing it.
Nice.
My favorite kind.
People who pretend to handle things quietly and then make something even bigger later.
The Strategy and Administration Department classroom was plainer than I’d expected.
There was no training ground like the Sword Dance Department,
and it wasn’t littered with incomprehensible tools like the Magic Department.
Instead, one wall was packed with things like an imperial map, an old front-line marker board, and organized supply-route charts by city.
The moment I entered, I had one thought.
Wow.
This place looks genuinely boring.
And I liked that quite a bit.
When I sat down in a seat toward the back, the new students around me glanced at me out of the corners of their eyes.
I didn’t know if it was because of the Serena incident, or because I simply had an unusually exhausted look on my face for a fallen noble.
Honestly, I hoped it was the latter.
The former would be annoying.
The professor who entered a little later was the same person I’d seen at the orientation.
He wasn’t particularly tall, and his voice wasn’t intimidating, but for some reason, the classroom immediately fell silent.
That type was the most exhausting.
The kind who didn’t need to raise their voice for people to straighten themselves out.
The professor began by taking attendance.
When my name came up, I expected at least a few heads to turn, but there was less reaction than I’d thought.
Nice.
The best environment for survival.
No interest.
The problem was that it probably wouldn’t last long.
The class was dry from the start.
The self-introduction wasn’t long either.
What the Strategy and Administration Department learned, why it was necessary, and why not fighting didn’t mean it was a safe department.
The words were ordinary, but the content wasn’t.
On the battlefield, the Sword Dance Department holds the line, the Magic Department strikes, the Sacred Arts Department pins things down, and the Alchemy and Engineering Department keeps things running.
And the Strategy and Administration Department calculates all of it.
It was the kind of filth I liked.
The professor immediately handed out several sheets of paper.
It wasn’t a survey, but a problem sheet.
A situation was written on it.
The night before the Blooming Month campus open event.
Some second-grade materials disappeared from the main building archive.
Only three things have been confirmed.
First, according to the archive access records, three people were able to use the key.
One librarian’s assistant, one night supervisor, and one student council administrative aide.
Second, at the same time, there was a disturbance in the noble dormitory annex.
Two children of high-ranking nobles were injured, and one side is related by marriage to a collateral branch of the imperial family.
On the surface, it can be handled as a simple clash, but if it grows, the event itself may be overturned.
Third, tomorrow morning, personnel from the imperial liaison office will enter for a preliminary inspection.
If word of the theft leaks before then, the open event may be canceled.
There were additional conditions attached.
The manpower available immediately is limited.
Two dormitory supervisors, three administrative assistants, and four night patrol students.
Before dawn, you can take two actions.
What will you do?
Nice.
I looked down at the paper again.
Stolen materials.
A disturbance in the noble dormitory.
An imperial inspection.
Lack of manpower.
Choose only one to prioritize.
Something like this was closer to a tendency test than a search for the correct answer.
Some would report first,
some would move to cover it up,
and some would try to find the culprit first.
But with all three, if you chose wrong, it was over.
What came to mind first wasn’t an answer.
What kind of second-grade materials had disappeared.
Whether the guys injured in the noble dormitory were in a state where they could keep their mouths shut.
Whether the imperial liaison office inspection was a formality, or an actual audit.
Whether the student council administrative aide could only use the key, or could also tamper with the records.
But none of that was on the paper.
It was probably intentional.
They wanted to see what kind of person you were when you didn’t know enough—what you chose to protect first.
Nice.
I wrote as briefly as possible.
Prioritize isolating the involved parties and restricting access.
There are three reasons.
First, the most dangerous thing right now is not the fact that the materials have disappeared, but the movement of the involved parties.
Whether it is theft or concealment, if the people are not managed first, both issues may grow larger.
Second, if the noble dormitory disturbance is suppressed first, it may become quiet in the short term,
but one of those with key access will gain additional time to tamper with the records.
Third, an immediate report to superiors is necessary, but if the involved parties are not controlled first,
the report itself becomes an alarm to the other side.
Therefore, the priorities are as follows.
Simultaneously restrict access to the archive, the noble dormitory, and the student council administrative office.
Separate the three people with key access and the two injured nobles.
Then, before dawn, report the matter in reduced form as an “internal security irregularity,” not as the full fact of the theft.
In truth, there was a lot more I could have written.
This judgment wasn’t clean either.
It wasn’t hiding it, but delaying it,
and it wasn’t delaying it, but buying time.
But if you didn’t buy even that much time,
all three of these issues would explode together before morning.
I added one final line.
“What must be stopped right now is not the incident itself, but the speed at which the incidents become connected.”
Even after writing it, I didn’t feel good.
The professor collected the answers and immediately called on a few people.
But this problem was structured so that if you were bewitched by one side, the others would immediately explode.
The professor collected the answers and immediately called on five people.
Of course, the guy sitting next to me was the first to be caught.
“I would immediately report everything to the higher-ups. Concealment invites greater problems.”
The professor’s expression didn’t change.
“And after that?”
The guy’s mouth closed.
“……I hadn’t thought that far.”
He couldn’t say anything more.
That was about it.
Reporting itself wasn’t wrong.
The problem was what came after.
The second student called on was the opposite.
“I would handle the noble dormitory first.”
His voice was cautious, but his thoughts were organized.
“If the disturbance involving someone related by marriage to a collateral branch of the imperial family grows right before tomorrow’s open event, the theft case will be tied to it all at once.
Then the stolen materials will no longer be a simple security issue, but may spread into a political issue.
First, we need to press down on the noble dormitory and keep the board small.”
Oh.
That was possible too.
It wasn’t a completely wrong answer.
If face collapsed first, everything else would be dragged down under it.
The professor didn’t cut him off immediately either.
“Good. Then what about the archive?”
“I think it would be enough to just prohibit access.”
The professor said nothing there and called on the third student.
The third said they would prioritize tracking the materials.
“If the stolen materials are second-grade, they must be stopped before the event.
If the materials leave the premises, they cannot be recovered later.
First, I would seal off the archive and investigate the three people listed in the access records.”
This side made sense too.
You could delay the noble dormitory disturbance by keeping people’s mouths shut, but materials that had escaped wouldn’t return.
Seen that way, it even sounded like the most textbook answer.
The professor merely tilted his head slightly again.
“How will you stop the noble dormitory and the imperial inspection?”
“For now, by canceling the campus open event…”
“I don’t think that is the correct answer.”
Ah.
That must hurt.
The student’s face visibly stiffened.
The professor didn’t push further.
The fourth student said,
“I would begin by isolating all involved parties.”
The classroom grew a little quieter.
The student continued speaking.
“The materials, the noble dormitory, the report. All three are important.
So if you choose one first, the other two will move.
First, the three people with key access, the two injured nobles, and one person responsible for the night supervision records must be tied down and access blocked.
Then there will be time to sort out the archive and the imperial inspection.”
Oh.
This was fairly good.
I had written almost the same thing.
For the first time, the professor lifted his eyes from the paper and looked at the student.
“Good.
Then if you detain two nobles while your authority is unclear, from that moment on, this is not security but unlawful confinement.
Can you handle that?”
The student paused for a moment.
The professor’s voice remained calm.
It wasn’t a wrong answer.
But they hadn’t reached the next square they would have to handle.
Finally, my name was called.
The professor asked without any particular expression.
“Why did you write that you would reduce the report, despite also prioritizing isolation?”
The classroom grew a little quieter.
“What remains now is speed, not facts.”
The professor listened silently.
“The materials have already disappeared, and the disturbance in the noble dormitory has already happened.
Both are events that have already occurred.
What can be stopped now is the speed at which those two become connected.”
I paused for a beat before continuing.
“That is why I would tie down the involved parties first.
But I would not report it to the higher-ups as theft, and would first submit it only as an internal security irregularity.”
“Why?”
“Because the moment it is reported as theft, there is a possibility that the report will enter while we do not know whether the imperial inspection is a formality or an actual audit.”
The professor’s eyes narrowed very slightly.
There was a very faint stir at the back of the classroom.
“And after that?”
the professor asked.
“Since we have bought time for now, from that point on, we can sort out the theft or the concealment one side at a time.”
The professor was silent for a moment.
“What about responsibility?”
“I’ll take it later.”
I answered.
“Because right now, slowing the spread of the incidents comes first.”
Only after saying it did I regret it a little.
But the professor did not cut me off immediately.
“You look at containment of expansion before solving the incident.”
“Yes.”
“Even if regulations and procedures are set aside for a moment?”
“It’s better than losing everything.”
This time, the classroom grew a little quieter.
The professor looked at me for a while, then spoke very briefly.
“Sit down.”
That was the end.
It wasn’t praise, and it wasn’t criticism.
But for some reason, it bothered me even more.
The guy next to me let out a very small breath.
Someone in the front row glanced back at me once, then immediately looked away.
Nice.
I hadn’t stood out, but I hadn’t left no impression either.
For now, that was the most exhausting, and the most appropriate.
The class continued in a similar way after that.
How to read maps, sections where routes overlapped, why supply lines were cut before blades, what path humans chose when they panicked.
It was interesting.
Very slightly.
But that feeling vanished completely during the next session, which was something like practical training.
Though calling it practical training didn’t mean sword fighting.
We went out to the training grounds outside the classroom, quickly checked designated locations, planted markers, and returned on time.
It sounded easy if you only heard the words, but it was a kind of training specialized in irritating people.
I took quite a lot of time from the very first section.
My head understood it all, but my body couldn’t keep up.
By the time class ended, the professor was writing something on the documents.
It probably wasn’t a good evaluation.
No, to be precise, it would be ambiguous.
After all the major classes ended and I stepped out of the classroom, a sigh came out on its own.
I was more tired than I’d expected.
I leaned for a moment by the corridor window.
That was when a familiar presence approached from behind with brisk strides.
Light and quick.
No hesitation.
I knew before even turning around.
It was Mia.
“Finished?”
“Yeah.”
“How was it?”
“Boring and tiring.”
“Then it suits you.”
I looked at her.
Mia stood beside me with a completely unconcerned expression.
After glancing around for a moment, she fell in beside me, matching my stride before I could even start moving again.
“Why are you following me?”
“I’m not following you.”
“Then what.”
“I’m walking next to you.”
Wow.
When someone says it that confidently, it gets awkward to argue.
I clicked my tongue softly.
“What about your Sword Dance Department class?”
“It’s over.”
“That ended fast. How was it?”
“It was fun, but noisy.”
I could imagine.
We walked together toward the tiered lecture hall where the shared liberal arts class was being held.
Since it was a common class for the preparatory division, freshmen were pouring in without regard for department.
Just as I was about to find a seat, Mia very naturally plopped down in the one beside me.
Two nearby freshmen glanced at us.
A beastkin freshman and a fallen noble—no matter how you looked at it, it was strange.
Great.
My modest dream of living an ordinary life was being diligently ruined again today.
I said in a low voice,
“You had to sit next to me?”
Mia answered while looking straight ahead.
“It’s better next to you.”
“What is?”
“It’s less noisy.”
That was bullshit.
Ever since I’d come here, my surroundings had been nothing but noisy.
But right after saying that, Mia added the real reason.
“And if there’s a strange smell, you react first.”
I closed my mouth for a moment.
That was true too, which made it annoying.
“It’s not bad to keep someone with sharp senses nearby.”
Mia looked at me and said,
“You thought so too, didn’t you?”
I stared at her for a while.
She really was fast.
Her trust, her judgment, even the speed at which she latched on.
Normally, by this point, I should have been wary at least once. The problem was that I had already made the same calculation myself.
There was no reason to go out of my way to push away someone with sharp senses.
In the end, I let out a small sigh.
“Do whatever you want.”
The corners of Mia’s lips lifted ever so slightly.
“Okay.”
During that shared liberal arts class, the presence beside me bothered me more than the professor’s words.
Not entirely in a bad way.
Strangely, my attention was less scattered.
Who was coming from behind, what sort of presence was in the corridor, what was moving outside the window.
I had the sense that Mia was watching the parts I missed in my stead.
Great.
It wasn’t exactly wonderful, but it certainly wasn’t bad either.
On the way out after class, Mia asked casually,
“Are you going out again tonight?”
I looked at her.
“Why do you think that?”
“Your face says so.”
Wow.
Now she was reading schedules from people’s faces.
I snorted.
“It’d be nice if I didn’t have to.”
“But?”
“Things aren’t exactly moving in a good direction.”
Mia nodded at that.
She accepted it so easily it was a little frightening.
We were silent for a while on the way back to the dormitory.
The main building still wore a perfectly normal face, and the students were still chatting excitedly.
But now I knew.
What lay beneath that normal face.
The problem was, knowing didn’t mean there was much I could do right away.
That was what drove a person the most insane.
Still, I had gained something today.
Strategy and Administration suited me better than I’d expected.
Mia had attached herself to my side faster than I’d expected.
Truly, every last bit of it was such welcome news.
As I climbed the dormitory stairs, I muttered only to myself.
Now I might really have to give up on living an ordinary life.