Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Genius Professor - Chapter 107

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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 107
“What are you planning to do during the break?”

Leim answered my question.

“I suppose I should do something.”
“Won’t you go mad just sitting around?”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine for me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you’re off playing while I’m working myself to exhaustion.”
…….

It was petty spite, and Leim regarded me with a sullen expression.
But in the end, as a research assistant, Leim had to do research anyway.

“If I may, would it be all right if I wrote a paper?”
“A paper?”
“Yes. I looked through the Black Archive recently and found that there isn’t a single paper on the demon race. I’d like to be the first to write one.”

The Black Archive was an assassin-related academic paper site.
True enough. Once the demon race’s invasion began in earnest, academic interest in them would explode. And Leim belonged to the Dante Research Team and was affiliated with Hiaka. If he became known as a pioneer of the field, it would serve him well.

“Is it acceptable for me to write such a paper?”
“Fine. But.”

I decided to use this chance for some advance practice.

“Why is it your paper?”

An oddly random comment.
Leim tilted his head in confusion.

“I wrote it, so isn’t it my paper?”
“…Yes, it’s your paper.”
“Then why did you say such a thing?”
“…I was joking.”

Truth be told, it wasn’t a joke worth making.
How did that old fool manage to say it so naturally?

EP26 – Betting Table, “The Ascending Dungeon” (1)

Inside the white mirror-class car. Rebecca gazed out the window.
Leim, a member of the royal guard’s covert division who held the steering wheel, studied Princess Rebecca’s mood.

……

She was on her way back from the royal palace after a rare visit.
The insectile stares from the elders and ministers were familiar enough, but today her meeting with the king had fallen through as well. The king himself had urgent matters to attend to regarding the Academy Hall’s department opening initiative.

The reason Rebecca could remain attached to the royal court despite being despised by all was simply that the king favored her.
It was precisely for this reason that during their meetings, which occurred only once a season, Rebecca had to extract something from the king.
And that opportunity had been lost. Because of the Empire’s opening.
She had prepared a gift for the king since the week before last, held a prayer meeting until last night, and even woken before dawn to groom herself, and yet.

‘……What comfort could I possibly offer him.’

Leim hesitated before speaking up.

“Well… Your Highness. Still…”
“Leim.”

Her weary voice cut him off mid-sentence.

“Yes, Your Highness….”
“Just drive.”
“Yes, of course…. My apologies….”

Yet even after that, Rebecca’s troubles were far from over—her next appointment happened to be a gathering of noble ladies from the capital.

‘Heaven help me.’

It was precisely the sort of occasion Rebecca dreaded most. She shared not a single interest with women her own age.

Publicly, Rebecca moved through the world wearing a saint’s mask. It had become her poison. Already burdened by her common birth, the daughters of noble houses regarded her as an easy mark—a princess they could test themselves against, who might just be weak enough to rival. They needed the satisfaction of matching wits with royalty, of pretending they were her equal. Every time she left one of these gatherings, she felt thoroughly soiled.

But today, something in the atmosphere felt different.

“Your Highness, Your Highness. We have to admit it—that was truly impressive.”
“Right? You usually seem so scatterbrained, but when you put your mind to something, you really know how to act.”
“I mean, we were genuinely shocked, seriously.”

Amid a torrent of praise, Rebecca smiled and asked lightly.

“…What? Why is everyone saying that?”

The noble ladies erupted in excited chatter.

“The shoot for the Assassination Daily News with Grey went huge—apparently Your Highness was backing it all along?”
“Well… yes.”
“Really? Wow! How did you even think of it? Our family has people in the Warrior Department and everyone’s in an uproar right now. They’re saying opportunities for study abroad in the Empire might actually open up.”
“And our professors of magic too! It’s almost like a festival in our halls with all the excitement?”
“In all my years, I never thought I’d see our foolish friend show such flair. You’re quite capable when you put yourself to it, aren’t you, Your Highness?”

Laughter rippled through the gathering—light, tinkling, charming.
Rebecca laughed along with them, her lips and eyes curved in genuine warmth.

“…Thank you all so much.”

But once the gathering ended and she was back in the car, she began to quietly unleash her fury.

“Leim. I want to kill that girl. What do you think?”
“Y-Your Highness…?”

Leim’s eyes went wide.

“It’s possible or it’s not. Just answer me. I’m talking about Ludwig’s daughter.”

Leim’s heart sank. This was the first time the princess had ever spoken of killing a nobleman.
Rebecca judged people by their usefulness, and all the capital nobles appointed by the king had been doing their jobs well.

“…Perhaps it would be preferable if such a matter didn’t arise?”
“Try to convince me.”
“…My apologies, but as you know, Count Ludwig is currently occupied with trade negotiations with Hitahita. As you’re aware, we’re talking about tens of billions in Hika, and this could become a crucial market for the Empire, given our manufacturing weaknesses….”

I’d hardly put in all that effort to persuade her before the princess’s breathing grew ragged.

“So. It’s not going to happen?”
“…It would be best not to pursue this course. It serves Hiaka better.”
…….

Rebecca closed her eyes, then dropped her head. A murmur tumbled out beneath her breath.

“…This is infuriating.”

Leim considered the matter.
Countess Ludwig’s daughter, who ordinarily treated the princess as an easy mark and made a habit of cutting her down, had praised her today.
Yet the princess’s fury burned far hotter than it should have.
Rebecca believed that opening the department would invite heavy Empire involvement, and Hiaka would ultimately fall into the Empire’s grasp.
So really, it wasn’t anger at all—it was anxiety.
Rebecca was deeply unsettled by the currents of this world flowing beyond her control.

“Understood… Um, where exactly is the shoulder…?”
“Shoulder, curb, I don’t care. Stop the car. Now.”
“Yes, at once.”

With trembling hands, she lit a cheap cigarette and drew on it like a chimney—her own peculiar way of managing fury. But after four in quick succession, nausea began to rise, and Rebecca lurched toward a wall, emptying her stomach.
She retched until nothing remained. Then she pulled water from a Subspace Pouch, rinsed her mouth, and raised a fresh cigarette to her lips. That’s when—drawn perhaps by the smell—a rat emerged from somewhere and began prowling closer.
The rat was wrong. It trembled in such a way that it seemed almost rabid; it didn’t avoid her at all. For some reason, it approached Rebecca and threatened her. Even when she stomped her foot, it didn’t back away. Instead, it shrieked—”Screee!”—and lunged, its teeth sinking into the toe that jutted bare from her sandal.
Sharp pain and falling scraps of skin and flesh.
The rat, undaunted, reared its head high, then was slammed against the ground.
Crack!
Rebecca bore down harder with her heel. Then she twisted her ankle left and right, grinding it into paste. For a long moment. When she was finished, the churning in her head had subsided a little.

Still smoking her cigarette, Rebecca stared blankly at Leim, then down at her own foot, and held the lit end against the wound.
A hiss and sizzle as the wound was cauterized.
Leim, trained to endure all manner of torture, was inwardly horrified—but Rebecca approached him quickly, her breath still shaking, and spoke.

“Yes?”
“Call Professor Dante… to Academy Hall. My room….”

The drive back required speeding.

Kendrick Drake and Valmond Nibelung slipped in just under the wire, heads bowed, moving as a pair; lastly, Grey appeared about three minutes late.
I’d summoned them today to brief them on the Dante Assassination Team’s operational philosophy and conduct some basic training.

“Yes. Dante Assassination Team students—I have gifts for each of you. You may open them now.”

“A gift? Wow.”
“Thank you, Professor.”

The three of them opened the box, and Kendrick tore it apart.

“What… a harness…?”

Indeed.
It was an Assassin Harness made exclusively for Dante’s team.
A high-end harness that bore no comparison to standard cadet supplies. It had Custom Fitting magic woven into it, and each small pouch was fitted with Subspace, allowing items the size of a large bag to fit inside. I’d bought it at Hero Rank by scraping together every last coin I had.
For the record, since the Cain Tree in District Nine hadn’t yet received its tourism revenue deposit (still in operation), I truly had emptied my coffers for this purchase.

“Wow. This is really snug and comfortable, Professor.”
“It is an honor, Professor. This shall now become a family heirloom of the Nibelung house.”
“Mm-hmm.”

The four of them, fondling the harness, looked pleased and began putting it on. That was when Grey asked.

“What’s this thing on the shoulder?”

An armband of sorts was attached. Grey naturally fastened it around the inside of her left forearm like an armband, but wondered what it was for.

“That is our assassination team’s reward system.”
“A reward system?”

I’d been thinking about this for some time.
When my own assassination team finally came into being, how could I maximize their growth and efficiency?
The White Path’s approach of catering to them wasn’t effective. Despite their overwhelming numbers, they remained roughly matched against the Black Path for a reason.
The Black Path’s method of wielding the whip wasn’t wise either. Children who studied under parental pressure rarely ended up happy.
Then it suddenly struck me: was there anything people worked harder at than a game?

People work hard at games for various reasons, but the largest part of it came down to “reward.” The transparency of compensation for growth, achievement, and effort.
Following that line of thought, I landed on the idea of uniform insignia from the real world.
Why do soldiers voluntarily jump out of planes? To grow as trained combat personnel? To inherit the spirit of loyalty to their country?
Perhaps. But most of them probably do it to earn the airborne badge.
Because it looks cool.
At least, I was that type.

“You there, grimace.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Come here.”

I showed everyone Kendrick’s massive forearm.

“This armband has Velcro attached to it. You can stick patches on and peel them off.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And if you carry out my orders faithfully in training, commissions, operations, and so on, I intend to award you patches.”

I’d made one as a sample—a handsome patch with a deep blue B emblem drawn on a jet-black background.
Patches came in ranks: D, C, B, A, and S.

“On settlement day, you may choose whether to return these to me or keep them, and depending on the patch rank, you’ll receive an additional settlement percentage of 1%, 3%, 9%, 27%, or 81%.”
“Wait, what??”
“Really? Is that true?”
“Eighty-one percent…?”

At that, the eyes of these young assassins grew wide as saucers.
An assassination team naturally had to split its profits.
Their current settlement percentage was 5%.
The lowest in the industry!
It was a kind of minimum wage—originally, the first contract was supposed to be 5% by default.

“Um, I have a question, Professor! If we collect S-Rank Patches and return them to you, we get 86%, correct?”
“Correct.”

Valmond’s eyes went wide.

“Then, hypothetically, if the total exceeds 100%, what happens?”
“I’d make up the difference out of my own pocket.”
“…Oh.”

Greed rippled across all four of their faces.
True to form for assassins.
It couldn’t be otherwise.
All four had severed ties with their families, and assassination equipment was barely covered by the maintenance stipend Rebecca provided.
Kendrick at least had been wealthy, but his company had collapsed and his spending money had dried up.
In crude terms, all four were broke.

“Furthermore, for A-Rank and S-Rank Patches, I intend to award Dante’s Gift and Dante’s Wish Voucher respectively.”

At those words, all four expressions grew serious.
I felt myself genuinely recognized as a professor.

“What sort of gift will you be giving, Professor?”
“That’s a secret.”
“And the wish voucher—can we ask for anything…?”
“Within reason.”
“Hmm, if I asked you to find my father…?”
“I’d find him. With all my strength.”
“Really?”
“Really.”

The more we spoke, the more their expressions grew serious. The Script took considerable interest in this reward system too, developing an intense craving especially for A-Rank and S-Rank.
Since semi-permanent lasting Patches could be made through Illusion Magic, there was no reason it would take many hands.

“By the way, how exactly are the shop’s Patch Ranks determined?”

Leim answered Valmond’s question.

“I decide.”

Leim and Valmond’s gazes met.
Machine versus Doberman.
Two dark eyes stared at each other with unsettling similarity.
By the way, I’d informed them some time ago that Leim was the new teaching assistant and had the hobby of wearing something on top of their head.

“And what criteria do you use to decide, Teaching Assistant?”
“I have a Calculator.”

Leim pulled a Calculator model from their pocket and set it on top of their head. Then Valmond tested it.

“So, if I completed a commission worth two million Hika, but then I injured Kendrick—that idiot—and he ended up with a three-week recovery period, how would that be handled?”

Leim placed a hand to their temple, and a “Loading” icon began spinning in their eyes.

“……That would be D-Rank. You’d receive a D-Rank Patch.”
“How is that calculated?”
“That’s a trade secret.”

Elise interjected.

“Well, what if Grey became the model for the Assassination Daily this time?”
“……Shop, rank A.”
“Wow, really?”

At that, everyone’s gaze turned toward Grey.
Grey’s eyes went wide.

“Huh.”

After standing there dazed for a moment, Grey
turned to me and held out her palm.

“…Give it.”

Though her eyes were a bit uncertain as well.
As if I’d hand it over that easily.

“This system takes effect from this moment forward.”
“Eh?? What do you mean there’s no such thing…??”
“Here it is. Furthermore, the Patches you’ve received can be confiscated if you incur demerits, so listen carefully to what I say.”

But at this point, everyone seemed uncertain.
The desire was there, but it was still vague.
Since the system had only just been created, the tangible sense of it was weak.
That’s why I had something prepared.

“Now then, I shall bestow the first Patch today. Leim.”
“Yes. I will award a rank-D Patch to cadet Elise, who arrived early at assembly time.”
“Eh? Me?”

The moment a [D]-rank Patch was affixed to Valmond’s forearm, he asked in alarm.

“Wait, just a moment. Just a moment!! What about me? I was also there at exactly two o’clock….”
“You were two seconds late.”
“What!?”
“The condition for assembly that the Professor mentioned was arrival at Cain Hall by two o’clock. This signifies any time before 2:01:00. You entered at 2:01:02 alongside Cadet Kendrick.”
“That, that’s….”

Valmond clamped his mouth shut.
Elise gazed at the Patch affixed to her armband and laughed.

“Professor, this Patch is really pretty.”

I’d put effort into crafting it, after all.
But it wasn’t over yet.

“Come closer for a moment.”
“Hm?”

I had modified the [shape] of the Patch slightly.
I’d added a bone-shaped intaglio design to it.

“Wow, it’s a bone…♬”

At the same time, Valmond’s eyes began to twitch.
With that, the first bestowal was complete.

【 Elise : ‘A happy life♡’ 】

A brass-colored patch displayed boldly on the armband.
By contrast, three empty armbands.
As expected, the expressions of all three shifted subtly.

【 Grey : ‘What is that, how childish.’ 】
【 Grey : ‘Good grief.’ 】
【 Grey : ‘Who would envy something like that?’ 】

Grey frowned, then glanced away.

【 Grey : ‘…….’ 】

Valmond’s eyes, in particular, burned with something close to rage.

【 Valmond : ‘Dammit, I’m jealous—if Kendrick had just moved faster and gotten me one too, I’d have one by now—this is killing me.’ 】

Even Kendrick 2.0’s expression turned grim.

【 Kendrick : ‘Ugh!!’ 】

But… what does he even know to be upset about?

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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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