My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 11

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 11
Ibi had now achieved the distinction of breaking the Dormitory Rules two days in a row.
Today’s transgression was no light matter either.
Unauthorized entry into a Restricted Area. And after Lights Out Time, no less.
The Memorial Hall at Royal High School was housed in an Old School Building no longer in use, displaying the institution’s history within its walls.
To put it charitably, it was a history museum; in truth, it was the tomb of forgotten relics that no one ever visited.
There was the portrait of a former principal, yearbooks, Latin oratory competition trophies, original manuscripts of old school songs—that sort of thing.
The most notorious among them was a Mannequin dressed in an outdated uniform design.
Famous for what, you ask?
Obviously, for being the subject of a ghost story. Isn’t that how schools always are?
The story goes like this.
Back when the Old School Building was being converted into the Memorial Hall, Principal A decided to commission a special Mannequin dressed in the old uniform from his own student days.
But this was no ordinary Mannequin—he had it custom-made to perfectly recreate the appearance of a girl he had once harbored an unrequited love for.
He summoned his first love back to the school in the form of a Mannequin, though she had died from illness during their school years.
And so, the story goes, the dead girl’s spirit came to dwell within that Mannequin, and on late nights it walks slowly through the Memorial Hall.
And it always stops at the same place.
At the portrait of that now-deceased Principal A.
Hearing this tale, Ibi had concluded it was a fake ghost story. Of course, all ghost stories are fake anyway.
‘If the girl’s real spirit actually inhabited it, she wouldn’t bother looking at the portrait of some old alumnus.’
Even a ghost would retain her sense of taste, wouldn’t she? If you’re going to look at something, you’d naturally want to look at something beautiful.
Yes, so the ghost story was nothing more than a malicious prank made up for entertainment.
She had no reason to be frightened by such a prank. Besides, Ibi was a princess bearing the honor of this entire land.
Even if—stretching the point to its absolute limit—the wretched girl’s spirit had the distasteful hobby of gazing upon an old alumnus’s face, it only meant Ibi ought to show her proper respect.
So, that meant…….
“I-I’m not scared at all!”
Ibi spoke aloud deliberately.
Because, yes, she was currently walking toward that very Mannequin!
To reach the sealed entrance beyond the Memorial Hall, one had to pass through the first-floor Corridor of the Memorial Hall itself.
There was an alternative route around the outside, but it had no street lamps, making it both frightening and dangerous.
So she decided to take the shortcut through the Memorial Hall’s Corridor instead.
All while maintaining her psychological victory that the ghost story was nothing to fear.
‘This won’t do. Actually, I am scared.’
Ibi gripped her Mobile Phone tightly as she ran, thinking that if the Mannequin should approach her, she would call her secretary Owen to come rescue her by helicopter.
‘Owen would arrive in ten seconds or less, wouldn’t he? Otherwise, I’m really firing him.’
After maintaining these hollow jokes to overcome her fear, she finally managed to escape the Corridor.
A cold wind brushed past Ibi’s cheek. Perhaps because dread had consumed her, even the sharp gust felt oddly welcome.
Ibi drew her coat close and stepped slowly toward the old Iron Gate sealed shut with chains.
“If you want to know that girl well, there’s a way. Go to the Sealed Gate near the Memorial Hall at dawn.”
Tiffany’s indication was clear: Choi was coming and going outside school grounds through this route.
This was something that would be handled far more strictly than any disturbance caused within school.
After all, if it weren’t dealt with severely, other students might get the idea to venture outside campus as well.
Ibi pressed her back against the red brick wall. Fortunately, there were slight protrusions that provided some shelter from the wind.
How long had she been standing there? When the tips of her toes had gone numb—not just cold, but truly numb—and she began to wonder if perhaps Tiffany had tricked her.
An engine sound came from the distance, growing louder and drawing steadily closer. Ibi pressed herself more firmly against the wall.
She peeked her head out just slightly and peered through the gaps in the Iron Gate. The beam of a headlight cut through the deep darkness, and a Motorcycle came to a stop in front of the gate.
The man in the driver’s seat rose and offered his hand to help the woman in the back dismount. Even in this simple gesture, meticulous care was evident.
The woman who descended from the Motorcycle removed her Helmet with practiced ease, shaking her head lightly. Even in the dark night, long, silken hair spilled out, catching what little light there was.
It was Choi.
“Tomorrow. Same time.”
Choi handed the Helmet to the man, her voice flat and commanding.
“T-Tomorrow as well?”
“Yeah. You got a problem with that?”
As Choi spoke curtly, the man bowed his head deeply. It seemed he was too frightened of Choi to speak.
“……Understood.”
“Please change your tone!”
“But still, that’s…….”
“That’s enough. Go! Talking to you is already annoying.”
The man stumbled over something else to say, only to be scolded again before finally mounting the Motorcycle and riding away.
As the headlight, which had been the only source of illumination, receded into the distance, darkness quickly reclaimed the space.
There was no moonlight either. Even the outline of the Iron Gate in front of her was barely visible.
“Hgh.”
A faint sound of Choi exerting herself came from beyond the closed gate. She was using the metal bars and chains to pull herself over and into the school grounds.
Given that it was no trivial height, the way she moved without hesitation showed this was hardly her first time.
Tap.
Soon the sound of shoes touching down was heard.
Ibi pressed herself deeper into the shadow of the brick wall. She didn’t want to be caught red-handed spying like this.
Thud.
But as she took a step backward, her foot caught on something and she stumbled.
Looking down hastily, it was a Bottle. And having been kicked by Ibi’s foot as it fell, it began rolling on its own.
Ibi prayed that the friction of the rough ground would stop the Bottle.
But it was a futile prayer. The Bottle, demonstrating the full force of inertia, rolled right up to Choi’s feet.
“…….”
Following the trajectory of the Bottle, Ibi’s gaze traveled slowly from those polished shoes upward.
And the moment her eyes met Choi’s face.
In that instant, she felt foolish for having feared some Mannequin ghost just moments before.
It was a timeless truth: the living were always more frightening. Choi’s expression, now that she had discovered Ibi, proved it without mercy.
A chill ran down Ibi’s spine.
What should I say?
Choi slowly picked up the Bottle and began to approach.
Even in that brief moment, Ibi’s mind raced with countless worries.
Whether she should lower her head and apologize, or bow deeply, hands together, and beg forgiveness.
As Choi drew near, she glanced at Ibi’s trembling lips and let out a snort of derision.
“What? Don’t know where to start blackmailing me?”
“Huh?”
Ibi’s response was one of genuine bewilderment. It was the sort of expression one makes when confronted with an inexplicably wrong answer on a test.
Blackmail?
She knew the word, certainly.
The problem was simply that in Ibi’s life, this word had never existed as an option among her choices of action.
“……?”
Ibi’s reaction was so unexpected that now even Choi wore a puzzled expression.
‘If she didn’t come to blackmail me, then why is she here?’ she seemed to be thinking.
“I was just trying to confirm something.”
“Is that so? Lucky you. You’ve got leverage now. So, how are you going to use it?”
“I have no intention of using it, Carter.”
Choi’s eyes narrowed, her arms folded across her chest.
“You expect me to believe that? It’s only natural you’d hold a grudge against me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“But even if you drag me down, would that change your reputation? Ah, I see—a mutual destruction strategy?”
Choi spoke relentlessly, giving Ibi no chance to respond.
Though perhaps the silence wasn’t entirely Choi’s fault.
Because something strange had begun to appear. Behind Choi’s shoulder.
“Th-That…….”
As Ibi’s face drained of color and her lips began to tremble, Choi irritably demanded an explanation.
“What is it now? What kind of trick is this?”
“Th-That.”
Ibi stammered and pointed her finger behind Choi—in the direction of the Old School Building where the Memorial Hall stood.
Something was moving in the deep darkness, writhing as it approached them.
Of course, the only thing that could possibly be moving in that decrepit building at this hour was one thing alone.
“M-Manne……kin.”
The moment those words left her lips, the color drained from Choi’s face as well. So she did know the ghost story.
Ibi grabbed Choi’s wrist as she began to turn around.
“Don’t look back!”
She had read somewhere in a book when she was younger (though her governess had taken it away soon after) that nothing good came from meeting a ghost’s eyes.
Ibi gripped Choi’s wrist firmly and broke into a run, pulling her along.
Good heavens, why did I come outside just to look at that old Principal A’s portrait?!

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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