On My First Day Undercover, the Organization Collapsed - Chapter 5

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Organization Collapsed on My First Day of Infiltration Episode 005

 

 

You used mana

 

 

After being thoroughly defeated by the liberal arts instructor he had dismissed, Delev Kundel holed up in his dormitory for two days.

A luxurious single room.

He skipped other class orientations and endlessly ruminated on that day’s humiliation.

But the more he ruminated, the more questions took the place of humiliation.

 

‘How exactly did I lose?’

 

This kind of humiliation was a first.

But that made him even more curious.

Movements that seemed visible yet weren’t.

That speed with which he continuously tripped and subdued him from behind!

For Delev, who had never been pushed back even in sparring with his family’s Apprentice Knights, a new world had opened up.

It was the world of ‘defeat.’

Dozens of defeats experienced in a single day.

 

‘There had never been anything like that.’

 

Kundel’s swordsmanship philosophy was simple.

You become stronger through defeat.

The defeats he had experienced had always been like that until now.

After exchanging swords a few times and falling, he would rise again amid sharp yet positive criticism and swing his sword with renewed strength.

He thought defeat was that kind of thing.

But the defeat he suffered at the hands of Teacher Ziel Steelheart was not that kind of defeat.

 

‘I was thoroughly beaten, and beaten again.’

 

Simple feedback that came the moment he fell was all there was.

After that, he mercilessly fell and fell again, rolling around dozens of times.

That was humiliation.

But why was it?

During those dozens of repetitions, Delev found himself gritting his teeth.

He struggled not to fall and looked back at his own movements from just moments before.

And then at the end…

 

‘I felt something.’

 

He definitely could feel something.

Though he didn’t know what it was yet.

Delev wanted to quickly develop and fully bloom his talent, which was evaluated as superior to his Elder Brothers, to gain recognition.

So on the morning of his third day of seclusion.

Looking at the schedule posted on the wall, Delev confirmed that there was a class with that liberal arts teacher today and left the dormitory.

 

‘I should find out more in today’s class.’

 

He hadn’t planned to follow him from the start.

He had purely coincidentally spotted Ziel near Elbat Hall and followed him, but…

 

“Why, why is it blocked?”

 

He had reached a dead end.

Elbat Hall was a place he was visiting for the first time today.

So he didn’t know it properly, but at least structurally, it seemed like a place where there shouldn’t be a dead end…

And that liberal arts instructor was nowhere to be seen either.

 

“Is there another path?”

 

Ziel watched from the opposite side as Delev tilted his head with a confused expression.

 

‘This is different from ordinary tailing.’

 

The stalkers he had encountered so far would, even if flustered, turn back to find another path or take different action.

 

‘Does he have another purpose?’

 

This student.

Why had Delev Kundel followed him?

 

‘Does he have business with me like student Celia Rihart?’

 

That possibility seemed most likely.

Perhaps it was even a trend among students.

 

‘Teacher tailing. How unique. Well, I couldn’t have learned about such trends from the pre-mission intelligence.’

 

The world was wide and culture was diverse.

To stay at Edelwein Academy for a long time and even rise to professor, he needed to get accustomed quickly.

 

“Student Delev Kundel.”

 

Delev was startled by the voice from behind him and turned around.

He nearly fainted.

The teacher who had just disappeared was behind him.

 

“T-T-Teacher? When did you…”

“You were tailing me.”

“…”

 

He was caught.

 

‘Was I too obvious?’

 

If he had known this would happen, he should have just quietly entered the lecture hall.

 

“Is it a trend?”

“Yes?”

“I asked if it’s trendy among students.”

“Trendy… you mean?”

 

What is he talking about?

 

“Following behind me, I mean.”

“…I, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“If it’s trendy, do it more naturally. Hiding behind trees or sticking just your head out to watch your target looks far too suspicious. It’s better to blend into crowds when tailing someone, or take to rooftops where your target’s line of sight can’t reach.”

 

Delev was dumbfounded by this sudden surveillance lecture.

 

‘Why would that be trendy? But why is he explaining it in such detail…?’

 

“Try to be a bit more skillful with your next tailing attempt.”

“Ah… well…”

 

Ziel pulled out his pocket watch to check the time and started walking.

 

“Five minutes before class. Be careful not to be late or you’ll get penalty points.”

“Ah, yes, yes.”

“Well then.”

 

Ziel disappeared around the corner he had been chased to.

Delev stared blankly toward the corner.

Having completely forgotten his original purpose for tailing him.

Then, the moment he unconsciously turned around, he collapsed with a thud.

 

“What, what the hell?”

 

The corridor he thought was blocked was wide open.

He could even see students coming out of lecture halls in the distance.

 

“Damn…”

 

 

Creak.

 

Still recovering from the shock, Delev entered the lecture hall one minute late.

 

“You’re late, student Delev Kundel. That’s one tardy mark.”

 

Students murmured at the sight.

 

“Why does he look like that?”

“Didn’t you hear? He got completely destroyed by that teacher. In the first liberal arts class.”

“Ah, that Self-Defense Arts thing?”

 

Delev’s shoulders flinched.

Just as he was about to turn around.

 

“I should have mentioned this before class started. You two students, what are your names?”

“Teacher, we weren’t talking…”

“I heard you clearly. Both of you, state your names.”

“…Karen Aswan.”

“Luke Miol…”

 

The two students had no choice but to give their names in the face of his firm attitude.

 

“Student Karen Aswan, student Luke Miol. Both of you get warnings for chatting. This will be reflected in your grades, so take note.”

“Ah, teacher!”

“This class will be conducted by the book.”

 

Scratch, scratch.

 

The sound of Ziel’s pen writing something down, as if he really intended to reflect it in their grades.

The rebellious voices subsided, and the lecture hall became quiet.

Delev watched this scene with a strange expression.

 

‘Was he looking out for me?’

 

“And student Delev Kundel. Since you were late, this will likewise be reflected in your grade.”

 

Of course not.

 

‘What exactly is this? What is he relying on to be so strict?’

 

And Celia, watching this with continued interest and curiosity.

No matter how she looked at it, he seemed to have something to rely on.

Otherwise, a liberal arts instructor couldn’t act like this toward the children of noble families renowned throughout the Empire.

 

‘There’s definitely something there.’

 

As the names of various influential families flashed through Celia’s mind, Ziel began the lesson.

 

“Today’s class is ‘Healthy Body and Physical Fitness.'”

 

Healthy Body and Physical Fitness!

True to its name, a liberal arts lecture that taught theory about the body and built physical strength.

Along with Self-Defense Arts, it was a liberal arts lecture that focused on physical training, befitting Sword School.

 

‘I brought my sword, but who should I spar with?’

‘I guess I’ll just practice alone.’

 

Of course, that was only on the syllabus – this lecture had never actually been conducted that way even once.

They would either spar with each other, swing their swords individually, or just rest as they pleased.

The teaching assistants who had conducted classes in place of the absent liberal arts instructor naturally let them be.

They were busy enough to death anyway, so it was actually convenient.

But Ziel was different.

 

“Before we begin full-scale physical training, I plan to measure each individual’s fitness level.”

 

The lecture hall instantly fell silent.

Fitness testing!

 

“Um… Professor.”

 

One student raised their hand.

 

“That’s student Karen Aswan. Do you have a question?”

“What do you mean by measuring fitness levels?”

“It means exactly what’s written in the syllabus. I plan to measure the fitness levels of all the Sword School first-year students here and provide individual physical training methods suited to their levels.”

“So… what’s the testing method?”

 

Up until this point, the students including Karen hadn’t given up hope.

 

‘Is he going to watch what we do and measure our fitness?’

‘That must be it.’

 

The liberal arts class where seniors supposedly just played around the whole time.

They thought they could do the same.

And lately they were even being mocked.

Going to suck honey but ending up suffering terribly.

They thought they were chosen talents, 40 out of 100 total students.

But they weren’t chosen talents – they were talents who stepped in shit.

 

‘You went to suck honey but got an amazing liberal arts instructor?’

‘Suffer well. I’m going to Professor Elcanto’s lecture.’

‘Professor Elcanto’s liberal arts class would be better, right?’

 

“Long-distance running.”

 

That seemed manageable after all.

Long-distance running.

Some students inwardly scoffed.

Sword School students were students who enrolled here to learn swordsmanship and martial arts.

Naturally, they had received sufficient education from their noble families before enrollment and entered here through fierce competition.

Physical fitness was no problem at all.

That’s what they thought.

 

“How many laps?”

“As many as possible.”

“That’s nothing.”

 

When one person snickered mockingly, agreeing snickers could be heard a few more times.

But they couldn’t do that after seeing what Ziel lifted up.

 

“Sandbags. You’ll run wearing these.”

 

Sandbags.

It was such a classic method that they never expected this to come up at this point.

Most students had only seen them stuffed away in storage, or occasionally when soldiers trained using old-fashioned methods.

 

‘That much should be fine.’

‘Hah, it’s simple if I use mana.’

 

However, everyone had to despair at the following instruction.

 

“Mana usage is prohibited.”

“What?”

“It’s natural. If you supplement your strength with mana, your physical fitness won’t improve dramatically.”

 

The students fell silent as if shocked.

 

“The syllabus I was provided said ‘the most appropriate method.’ Long-distance running is the most appropriate exercise for measuring individual fitness.”

 

I know.

I know, but wearing sandbags and not using mana either!

 

Ziel pointed with his finger to the end of the lecture hall, no, the auditorium.

 

“Everyone make your bodies as light as possible and go stand at the end. When I give the signal, you’ll run around this lecture hall.”

“Un-until when?”

“Run until you’re exhausted.”

“Until exhausted means…”

“Continue running until all your stamina is depleted and your muscle fibers no longer respond.”

“What if we don’t have the will to run?”

“The criterion for continuing movement isn’t will, but the standard I just mentioned. That’s all. Everyone go to your positions.”

 

As Ziel finished speaking, he put sandbags on his own ankles.

All the students were flustered by that sight and the completely unexpected class.

But for Ziel, this was also a perfectly natural class.

 

‘The first two years were nothing but running.’

 

That’s how it was during assassin training.

He even ran wearing sandbags heavier than those.

 

“Hey, hey. Are we really going?”

“He said to go…”

“No, that’s not the problem…”

 

Then, one student silently unfastened the sword and belt from their body and set them on the floor.

Next, they took sandbags from the box placed beside Ziel and put them on both ankles.

 

Thud. Thud.

 

And they broke away from the group and went to stand at the end of the auditorium.

It was Delev Kundel.

The other students flinched at the sight.

And another one.

 

“Se, Selia too…?”

 

Celia Rihart followed behind as well.

Kundel and Rihart.

When the heirs of the two great families moved first, the other students reluctantly followed one by one.

 

“We start running now.”

 

At Ziel’s signal, the students began running one by one.

 

‘Run until we’re exhausted to death?’

‘I have a major class later, this is driving me crazy…’

 

But none of the students could complain.

Right beside them.

 

“Keep your breathing regular. Don’t breathe too short or too long, control your breathing as regularly as possible.”

 

Because Ziel started running alongside them while speaking in a very calm tone.

 

“Student, step lightly when running. Running like that will strain your knees soon.”

“Ah, understood.”

“Karen Aswan student. Don’t push yourself to keep up. It’s important to run at a level you can handle.”

 

He even gave advice to students in between.

At first, they thought it was natural.

But around the 10th lap.

Students began falling behind one by one, and even those in the lead started breathing heavily.

The sandbags.

And the restriction on mana usage too.

The sandbags were quite heavy at that.

Was this what it felt like to have someone grabbing your legs?

 

“Don’t look at the ground, look straight ahead. You might trip otherwise.”

 

Ziel’s voice was still incredibly calm.

When the first dropout appeared, Ziel ran over to them while maintaining his pace and asked for their name.

 

“Student, your name?”

“Huff, huff. Yurio, huff, Harmatan.”

“Yurio Harmatan. 20 laps.”

 

Yurio, with his small frame, answered timidly.

Whenever students collapsed from exhaustion, Ziel would unfailingly go to them, ask their names, and tell them their record.

 

‘How does he remember all that?’

 

Total first-year students: 100.

Among them, 40 students were taking this class.

Though the number of people taking both Liberal Arts 1 and 2 was the same…

He remembers each person’s record and tells them like that?

Then he’d return as if nothing happened, not even panting, let alone breaking a sweat.

Even while wearing sandbags.

 

 

‘Is he a monster?’

‘He’s really a liberal arts instructor? Really?’

 

The students gradually began to feel fear beyond doubt.

They had gotten into trouble.

That thought struck them strongly.

 

‘Why did it have to be when we’re freshmen…’

‘The seniors said they all had easy liberal arts classes!’

 

About 30 minutes had passed.

Ironically for a place called Sword School, about half had dropped out.

If they could have used mana, they all would have easily run several more laps, but unable to circulate mana through their bodies, they collapsed just like that.

Sword School admissions were basically all people who had mastered mana usage.

Whether beginners or skilled users, they at least knew how to send mana throughout their bodies to enhance strength and stamina.

But prevented from using that, they collapsed in such a short time.

Of course, not everyone was running honestly and straightforwardly.

 

Tap tap.

 

Ziel picked up his pace slightly and caught up to the student running in the lead.

The student, unaware that Ziel had caught up, looked around nervously and made a decision.

 

‘Just use a tiny bit. Just a little. He’ll never notice. It’s not like he’s a mage or anything.’

 

“You used mana.”

“Gasp!”

 

The student was startled by the voice from beside him.

Ziel was an assassin.

Until just a few days ago.

Moreover, he was the most outstanding in the assassination group, called the ‘Specter’ that anyone with a shady past would fear.

The reason other assassins couldn’t match Ziel.

The reason he could complete even impossible missions and return.

It was thanks to his perfect ‘Ki Sensing’ even among assassins.

 

“What’s your name, student?”

“I, well…”

“You just used mana.”

“Uh… that… that is…”

 

The student stammered, too flustered to speak properly.

The remaining students either passed by or watched the scene while sprawled on the floor.

 

“I asked what your name is.”

 

Ziel asked calmly without showing any sign of fatigue.

Rather, that composure invoked fear.

 

“Ma, Maris Sopen, sir.”

“Student Maris Sopen. Step out of formation immediately. Stand over there until class ends.”

“….”

“Can’t you hear me?”

“Wh, where’s the evidence that I used Mana?”

 

Ziel tilted his head.

 

“Are you really saying you didn’t?”

“….”

“85 laps. But since you used Mana, it’s void.”

 

He spoke calmly, but to Maris it felt so frightening that he would have preferred if Ziel had gotten angry instead.

 

“Void?!”

“If you really didn’t use Mana, come to this spot at this time tomorrow and run the same way. If you can record the same number of laps in the same condition without any problems, I’ll acknowledge it.”

“….”

 

Maris couldn’t bring himself to answer.

But inside, he was grinding his teeth.

 

‘How dare a mere liberal arts instructor….’

 

“You’re disrupting the class. Step aside.”

 

Eventually, Maris stepped aside.

But even as he did, his body trembled with humiliation.

 

‘Just because I used a little Mana, he humiliates me like this in front of everyone?’

 

Maris Sopen.

The eldest son of the Sopen Family, which ranked just below the Five Great Families.

Though not quite at the level of Delev Kundel or Celia Rihart, he had received considerable attention from professors when he enrolled.

 

‘That liberal arts instructor bastard dares….’

 

Meanwhile.

As Maris stepped aside, all the other students were thinking the same thing.

 

‘How did he know?’

 

There’s a technique that can only be manifested at a certain level of skill.

It’s called ‘Mana Manifestation’.

A technique that projects Mana outward to imbue weapons or fists with Mana.

You need to reach at least that level to see Mana with your eyes.

Simply activating the body’s Mana isn’t easy for others to detect.

 

‘That idiot Maris got caught so obviously.’

‘He’s making it so obvious by himself. Does he think others are idiots who can’t use it like that?’

 

Of course, everyone only thought this much.

They had no idea that Ziel had detected the Mana usage with an assassin’s senses.

Another 30 minutes passed in the meantime.

 

“Huff, huff.”

“Whew, whew.”

 

The Auditorium was filled only with heavy breathing and the sound of running.

Only two people remained.

Wearing sandbags.

Restricted from using Mana.

Yet their running was truly monstrous.

 

“Hey, hey. Who do you think will win?”

“It’s got to be that one, right?”

 

Delev Kundel.

Celia Rihart.

Of all people, only the heirs of two families whose relations had been particularly poor lately remained.

Of course, Ziel continued running.

Still without shedding a single drop of sweat.

 

“Even if you used Mana, it would be hard not to get tired like that….”

 

Karen Aswan muttered.

Another 10 minutes passed.

Now it was an unstoppable competition between the two.

In that time when no one could tell who would collapse first-

 

Thud!

 

After another 5 minutes, one of them finally collapsed.

No.

The moment they were about to collapse-

 

“Student Delev Kundel.”

 

Ziel instantly approached and supported his body.

 

“225 laps.”

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