On My First Day Undercover, the Organization Collapsed - Chapter 7

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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 007

 

 

Is This Even Reasonable Training?(1)

 

 

Dagger throwing is one of the traditional pastimes of the Valdrain Empire.

Because it’s traditional, there are far more people who don’t do it now than those who do.

Still, in the past it was a culture enjoyed by nobles and commoners alike, and it would sometimes become popular among certain students like this.

 

‘This is harder than it looks.’

 

Draco, the booth operator and vice president of the ‘Sword Love Research Club,’ snickered inwardly at the thought that he’d hooked another sucker today.

All gambling is like that.

There are people who fail once or twice and cleanly walk away, while there are others who challenge again and again without realizing their pockets are bleeding dry, feeling sorry for the money they’ve already spent.

 

‘Looking at his face, he’s definitely the latter type.’

 

Draco handed Ziel three daggers with only the tips sharpened.

 

“Three throws per round.”

“If I hit all three?”

“That’s 6 sel.”

 

1 sel per round.

In theory, if you hit all three, you could earn 6 sel, six times your investment.

The problem was that most people couldn’t even recover their initial 1 sel, let alone earn 6 sel.

Especially for people who had never thrown daggers before, hitting that target over 30 meters away was nearly impossible.

The target wasn’t even large, only about the size of a palm.

 

“If you just safely hit the outer targets, that’s 1 sel and 5 riom, and we’ll give you a prize even if you miss.”

“What’s the prize?”

“See that blue booth over there? You can exchange it for small decorations there.”

 

Naturally, they were cheap decorations.

 

‘Since he’s a teacher, he probably has money.’

 

Actually, this club wasn’t deliberately trying to fleece students.

It was only 1 sel at most.

How much could they really make from fleecing that?

Of course, it was big money for some people, but most Sword School students were nobles.

In other words, most of them were people who could casually pay 1 sel without a care.

 

“Three of them.”

 

Ziel took the daggers in his hand and stood in front of the throwing line.

The target was a small wooden board with a red circular bullseye drawn in the center, about twice as small as the wooden board itself.

 

“Do I throw from here?”

“Yes. You throw from there. You don’t have to hit the red part exactly. You just need to hit it and knock it over.”

 

Draco snickered.

 

‘It’ll be difficult, right? Dagger throwing isn’t as easy as it looks.’

 

Throwing or shooting to hit something doesn’t become familiar just because your physical abilities improve with mana.

You might become familiar with it a bit faster though.

Even if you could concentrate and throw more quickly, someone throwing for the first time couldn’t do well from the start.

 

‘Unless they’re naturally good at throwing from the beginning.’

 

Dagger throwing was just a miscellaneous skill that only certain people practiced.

How many times in life would you need to throw daggers?

Unless it was a profession that dealt with such things professionally.

 

“Come on, come over here everyone! Even hitting the closest one breaks even! Miss and still get a prize! You there, you new students passing by! Come on over! Hurry!”

 

While Draco naturally turned his attention away as if it was obvious, Ziel gripped one dagger in his hand.

And whoosh-

 

Thunk!

 

The casually thrown dagger hit the target precisely.

Dead center of the bullseye.

Right in the center of the red circle inside the target.

 

“…Huh?”

 

Draco, who had turned his head without much thought, couldn’t believe his eyes.

The target had fallen over.

Another club member also jumped up in surprise.

 

“He, he hit it?”

 

Next.

The moment they set the target back up-

 

Whoosh, thwack!

 

The second dagger hit its mark.

The problem wasn’t the bullseye.

The end of the first dagger’s handle.

It had hit right there.

 

“…”

 

Draco’s mouth fell wide open.

And finally.

 

Whoosh, thud!

 

The third dagger hit the end of the second dagger’s handle.

Which means….

Three daggers were embedded in a straight horizontal line.

 

‘This is impossible.’

 

A groan escaped from Draco’s mouth.

 

“Uh, uhh….”

 

Ziel pointed at the daggers to Draco.

 

“Hit three times. That’s 6 sel.”

“That… uh….”

“I hit the dagger at the end of another dagger, but that should be fine.”

 

A hand suddenly extended.

 

“6 sel. I’ll take it.”

 

A moment later.

Ziel held five skewers in his hand.

Different types of meat skewers.

Five of them.

 

“The second one tastes good. The third one is too spicy.”

 

Ziel evaluated the flavors with a rather serious expression and ranked them in his own way.

The most basic salt flavor came in 2nd place.

The one with spicy seasoning came in 3rd place.

The most delicious one emphasized sweetness….

Draco looked back and forth between the target and Ziel with a bewildered expression.

 

“Does that even make sense?”

 

He took the money and bought skewers to eat.

So he threw daggers and hit the target just to buy skewers?

But there’s something else that doesn’t make sense.

 

“Does this make sense either?”

 

He hit a dagger at the end of another dagger.

That means he threw them at the same point with the same force and angle.

Without even an inch of error.

 

‘Crazy.’

 

Actually, he had prepared to get cursed at when he made the target.

But this… how….

 

“Did he throw daggers because he had nothing else to do.”

 

There are people like that.

People who were pushed out of family succession competition and sometimes focus on just one thing.

For example, Rata Rihart, who was 4th in line for succession, gave up on inheritance early and became the owner of the most famous restaurant in the Empire.

Maybe that liberal arts instructor is like that too?

 

‘Huh?’

 

Someone suddenly came to mind.

A few years ago.

A Hidden Blade Throwing competition held in the capital.

There was a man who won by hitting the handle ends of the previously thrown daggers with 10 daggers in a row.

That man who appeared out of nowhere without anyone knowing his name or face, hit the daggers, and took the prize money.

 

‘No way….’

 

Just then.

 

“Here’s 1 sel. Let me try once more.”

 

When he looked up, Ziel was standing there.

Holding five wooden skewers.

 

‘He finished them all?’

 

“I need to eat more.”

 

Draco’s face turned into a crying expression.

And that day.

Rumors began to spread about the new liberal arts instructor who had completely cleaned out a club booth’s daily profit.

Additionally, rumors also spread that the Grilled Skewer Shop Owner, who made the highest sales of the day, was beaming with joy.

 

 

[Imperial Police Knights mobilize all resources to locate ‘Specter’!]

[Police Knights Commander: “Focusing on foreign asylum attempts”]

[Imperial Family: “Complete eradication of Assassination Group to reassure Empire citizens”]

 

Professor Elcanto took a sip of tea and smiled with satisfaction.

 

“That Specter bastard will be caught soon too. Yes. That’s how it should be. But foreign asylum… it’ll be troublesome if he goes over to those Peroso bastards.”

 

Peroso is a kingdom that borders Valdrain.

Their relationship is already bad, and if Specter goes over there, it won’t be just any ordinary big problem.

 

“What will become of the country. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

 

The Teaching Assistant looked at Professor Elcanto clicking his tongue with disdain for a moment.

 

‘The professor’s room would become a garbage dump without me.’

 

He should have figured this out long before getting tenure.

Back then, there wasn’t a kinder person in the world.

Maybe it was because they were in similar situations.

 

“Teaching Assistant.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“It’s been about a week, hasn’t it? How is Teacher Ziel doing?”

 

Today it’s Teacher Ziel.

The title that goes back and forth between that bastard and teacher.

 

“There doesn’t seem to be any problems. Even listening to the students’ stories. They don’t have any complaints.”

“Really? He’s managing well on his own then.”

 

Whether he’s doing well, or whether there’s no time to have complaints.

 

‘Is it good since there are no complaints in the end?’

 

Actually, if you think about it, it wouldn’t be strange if complaints came up.

Knocking down one student dozens of times from the first class, making the first-years fill Sandbags and run laps.

He couldn’t have threatened them…

 

‘Is he teaching well?’

 

“About that Teacher Ziel, are there any rumors you’ve heard?”

“What kind of rumors?”

“You know. Things like that. Someone backing him up…”

“I’m not sure.”

“Ahem. There’s definitely, definitely something there, you know? I just don’t know who it is… Could it be Rihart? Kundel is losing ground these days. So maybe Kundel can’t say anything either?”

“It doesn’t seem like student Delev informed his family.”

“Ah. Is that so? Hmm, then where could it be?”

 

Professor Elcanto, who had been tilting his head, suddenly opened his eyes wide.

 

“Could it be…”

“Yes?”

“The, the Imperial Family?”

“…”

 

The Teaching Assistant let out a deep sigh inwardly.

 

‘Why are you going that far.’

 

“Right, if it’s the Imperial Family, it might make sense… I heard that the Imperial Family has been supporting small and medium Noble Families instead of the major ones lately. Of course. That’s what it was. Right, it’s the Imperial Family, the Imperial Family.”

“Ah, yes…”

“Teaching Assistant.”

 

Crunch!

 

The sound of chewing Cookies.

 

“When you have time later, casually probe Teacher Ziel.”

“What should I ask?”

“Where he might have come from. Ah, don’t ask directly. You know?”

 

Why don’t you do it yourself.

 

“Yes.”

“Oh, these Cookies taste good. I should eat just one more.”

 

And I know how to eat those Cookies too.

 

‘He said he was on a diet.’

 

The Teaching Assistant swallowed the words he wanted to say and focused on cleaning.

There was particularly a lot of dust today.

 

 

Self-Defense Arts class, week 2.

Today’s class is being held in the Auditorium where they had done long-distance running before.

 

“Ugh, my legs are still shaking.”

“I’m really dying. This week we’re running even more than last week.”

“Want me to tell you something scary? We haven’t even had the Self-Defense Arts class yet.”

“Damn it”

 

The storm-like first week of classes and the previous long-distance running were still vivid in the students’ minds.

The problem was the Self-Defense Arts class.

 

‘Is Delev going to get knocked down again today?’

‘It seems like he still hasn’t told his family.’

 

The sight of the youngest of the Kundel Family getting knocked down dozens of times.

Thinking about it now, it wasn’t just once or twice, and Delev who kept charging in desperately despite taking that much punishment was also a strange guy.

And that Delev was attending class today too, silently looking straight ahead.

 

“Delev.”

 

At Kus’s question, Delev turned his head.

Kus flinched.

There was something resembling madness visible in Delev’s eyes.

 

‘Has this guy’s head really been messed up since the first class…?’

 

I knew he had strong pride.

I also knew he hated losing to others.

I well understood what kind of burden Delev carried when he enrolled here.

 

“Delev, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine though…”

 

Delev had been bedridden for two days after the ‘Healthy Body and Stamina’ class, not the Self-Defense Arts class.

Because he ran until he collapsed from exhaustion without using mana and while wearing sandbags.

 

“Kus.”

“Yeah?”

“About Teacher Ziel.”

“Teacher?”

 

Not just teacher, but Teacher with honorifics?

 

“Uh… why?”

“What do you think he used to do?”

 

It was a question he had been vaguely wondering about.

But before Kus could answer, Ziel entered.

 

“I’ll take attendance.”

 

As always, a calm voice without any inflection.

At that sight, several students stared at Ziel in a daze.

Most of them were female students.

 

“Celia Rihart.”

“Yes, Teacher.”

“Karen Aswan.”

“…”

“Student Karen Aswan, are you feeling unwell?”

“Ah, no!”

 

Ziel approached and examined Karen’s face.

 

“There’s a flush on your face.”

“Th-that’s…”

 

It was then that Karen was startled and squeezed her eyes shut while lowering her head.

 

“Were you perhaps poisoned?”

“…Excuse me?”

“Tell me if you need an antidote.”

 

Ziel left those words and continued taking attendance.

Karen wondered what he meant and pondered it several times in her mind, but couldn’t find an answer.

The other students were the same, but only one student was watching the scene with a strange look.

 

‘Isn’t he coming to me?’

 

It was Celia.

 

“Everyone is present.”

 

Such a thing didn’t happen.

 

“I’ll explain today’s Self-Defense Arts class.”

 

The explanation about the upcoming class followed.

The concentration of students who had gone through two liberal arts classes in the first week was exceptional.

In the Self-Defense Arts class, he had subdued Delev dozens of times with unbelievable movements.

In the following long-distance running class, he showed stamina that didn’t produce a single drop of sweat even when all the students were exhausted and sprawled out.

Someone suggested he might have used mana, but in fact, among the students here, no one could run that long without breaking a sweat even with mana.

The class itself was different.

That recognition was firmly established.

A liberal arts instructor that no one had expected completely changed their perception in just one week.

 

“As you saw last time, Self-Defense Arts is a very useful method for blocking unexpected attacks, surprise attacks, and attacks coming from unseen places.”

 

Ziel looked at the students once and continued speaking.

 

“But responding to surprise attacks isn’t a simple matter. So today, we’ll have a class to develop reflexes. Everyone stand 5 meters apart in front, back, left, and right directions.”

 

The students first followed Ziel’s words and spread out with 5-meter intervals between each other.

What was he trying to do?

 

“What you’ll do from now on is simple. You just need to block surprise attacks that will be randomly carried out on one of you, or several of you.”

 

For Ziel, this was training he had performed hundreds of times.

During assassin training.

Dozens of assassin trainees gathered in one place and received training to block the instructor’s surprise attacks.

Of course, the difficulty level now was much lower.

He wasn’t holding a dagger like the instructor, and flesh wouldn’t be torn if they failed to block.

 

“Is that really reasonable training?”

 

One student raised his hand.

Maris Sopen.

He was the student who got caught using mana during the last long-distance running class.

He had been harboring resentment toward Ziel since that day.

 

“Student Maris Sopen. In what way is it unreasonable?”

“No matter what, there are 40 of us and you’re alone, aren’t you? We’re first-years, but we’re still from Sword School.”

 

At Maris’s question, Ziel came up with one good idea.

 

‘Sometimes stimulating students’ competitive spirit is also a good method.’

 

This was content from a book I borrowed from the Library just yesterday.

 

“Good. Then if even one person can defend against my Surprise Attack, I’ll end the class immediately.”

 

The moment they heard those words, the students’ eyes sharpened.

 

“As a bonus, I’ll give you a Praise Card too.”

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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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