Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Genius Professor - Chapter 147

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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 147
EP31 – Betting Table, Marquis League (4)

At the Foreign Guild’s branch, Valmond felt something odd watching Bilemon’s anger rise.

“You bastards!”
“Come on, seriously. Just go back. We’ll exchange it for you!”
“Exchange? What kind of nonsense is that? Where the hell did you learn to talk like that?”

Bilemon was known among the Assassination Studies Department professors as a man of considerable character. And yet here he was, blazing with fury.

‘It must be because his son got hurt.’

This was a strange sight for Valmond.
A father, to him, was a figure from so long ago he barely remembered.
Yet if there was anything he did remember—
it was a man who spent his life fleeing the Nibelung Family, stumbling home drunk now and then to curse Valmond’s mother.

Grandmother Nibelung, to maintain her power as the Dark Starlight Seat, periodically killed people to absorb them. One day she had approached young Valmond with scissors in hand. Trembling with fear, he had spoken to his father one drunken night. Father, let’s run away, he’d said. What had his father answered then?

He couldn’t quite remember. But it certainly wasn’t the face of a man enraged over his son’s wound.

“Bring me the branch manager of the Foreign Guild! The Guild dares lay hands on an assassination student?”

No—if anything, his father had been far more powerless. Far less protective.

“Open the door.”

Dante passed him and spoke in a low, quiet voice.

“Professor Dante—what are you doing?”

“Open it. The door.”
“Does being a successful Unit Leader mean you can just force your way through? We already gave plenty of notice. The defective goods are subject to exchange—”

Still they resisted.

The next moment—

At that moment, Valmond found his jaw hanging open of its own accord.
It wasn’t just because of the explosion or the attacks.

“…….”

Having spent no small amount of time with Dante, Valmond had come to understand something: the Professor was, unexpectedly, a pacifist. He seemed to dislike conflict. He rarely grew angry. A detail entirely separate from his fearsome appearance.
To put it another way, Dante was like a grotesquely carved stone colossus—frightening enough, perhaps, but if left alone, it would simply stand there in stillness.
……And now that statue was moving.

“Is this bastard actually insane?”
“Hey! Get this mess cleaned up!”

Warriors from the Foreign Guild drew their weapons and rushed forward. Dante hooked the leg of a swordsman charging straight at him and sent him tumbling, slipped past an arrow with nothing more than a tilt of his head, and when an assassin plummeted from above like a lightning strike, Bilemon’s whip coiled around him and slammed him into the wall.
Valmond, too, drew his Sniper Rifle and began channeling his Mana.

“Professor!”

A warrior wielding an Axe activated Dash and crossed the space in a heartbeat—a frame built for close combat, nearly the equal of any assassin—
Thud!
—was seized in Dante’s grip.
His jaw cracked as if driven into concrete.

“Gah…!”

The Axe clattered to the ground.
Dante smashed the man’s head against the wall, knocking him senseless.
Then he turned and walked, speaking as he went.

“Where’s the branch director?”

Someone answered, saying the director was currently in a headquarters meeting. Dante replied without emotion.

“Bring him.”

In that moment, Valmond felt something he couldn’t quite name.
It was nothing like the blazing fury Bilemon displayed.
He was calm. Quiet.
And yet Valmond could be certain of one thing: Dante was angry—cold as ice.

“Professor Dante Hiaka, are you actually out of your mind?”

An executive from the Foreign Guild shouted from the second floor of the building.

“What the hell did you eat that’s wrong with you?”
“I’m in my right mind.”
“Cut the nonsense! You’re not even in Hiaka—you’re in the Empire! And you’re pulling this on foreign warriors? Aren’t you afraid of the consequences?”

Ice water seemed to have been dumped over Valmond’s thoughts. That was right. Was this even salvageable?
But Professor Dante showed not the slightest sign of hesitation.

“Fear comes only when you cannot bear the weight.”

The Professor looked at the frightened men and asked in return:

“Are you afraid of me?”

No one answered. They were far beyond their capacity to handle this.
The instant Valmond grasped this truth, he felt a sharp, intoxicating clarity sweep through his mind.
And in that same moment, the face of the drunk who’d been powerless flashed across his thoughts—those eyes that looked away even as blood spilled openly.

It was just as Dante stepped up to the counter. Valmond’s gaze shifted to the desk clerk—the one drawing a short sword from his coat. Reflexively, he raised his sniper rifle. But he didn’t pull the trigger. Dante had picked up a pen and drove it through the assassin’s hand, pinning it to the counter.

Bang!

“Argh—!”

The Foreign Guild assassin writhed, his hand pierced clean through.
Dante turned back to the executive and spoke.

“The branch director.”
“Y-you really—! Do you need to blow things up this far before you’re satisfied? What’s wrong with you?!”
“The situation hasn’t escalated yet. The branch director.”
“What?! You’ve torn this place apart, laid out multiple people, and that’s what you have to say?”
“Executive Habilion.”

The executive froze. Dante had never revealed his name before.

“If I had wanted to escalate matters,”

As Dante turned his head, someone with a towel-covered hand flinched. They had been secretly filming him with a camera. But Dante was famous for having refused interviews and photography repeatedly.

“I would have killed the person in charge first.”

And that person in charge was Habilion himself.
Dante reached out. Then he snatched the camera from the one who’d been filming in secret and twisted it until it shattered. Glass scattered with a crack and crunch.

“My assassin was supposed to participate in the Bilemon Assassination Unit as a mercenary.”
“You’re making this fuss over a single assassin? Do they treat tools like children in Hiaka?”
“It’s a matter of principle. My assassin can die in a worthy cause. But dying pointlessly because a counter-summoning fails—that can never happen.”

Valmond’s eyes twitched.

“Branch director—no, never mind. Don’t call me that anymore.”
“…What?”
“From now on, I’m escalating this. Figure it out and climb back up.”

Everyone in the Foreign Guild gasped.
Dante drew his blade.

* * *

Trashi Forbtime.
Recently, things had been difficult for him.
The betrayal of former colleagues. Scoops stolen from him. He’d missed out on the “Journalist of the Month” award. Colleagues whispered behind his back. The subordinate he’d trained so carefully had quit.
His subscriber count dropped with each passing day. Along with it, Trashi’s hairline was receding just as rapidly.

“Hello, Professor…?”

The reason he’d shown up at Professor Dante’s office without warning was that being turned down over the phone had become too painful lately.
If he asked in person, perhaps the professor would grant him the opportunity anyway…or so he’d hoped.
After all, wasn’t he the only journalist who had Professor Dante’s number?

“The greeting isn’t returned.”

Trashi went rigid.

……

A greeting he’d never heard in his life.
“The greeting isn’t returned,” it said.

“I… I apologize for showing up so suddenly. Or… did you mean for me to leave…?”
“No.”
“Oh, well… You didn’t mean you don’t want to talk to me, did you?”
“That’s not it.”
“Then you’re saying you’ll grant me an interview…?”

At that, Dante’s expression twisted ever so slightly.
Damn.
Had he made some kind of mistake?
It was precisely when Trashi tensed.

“…You really can’t seem to grasp what I’m saying.”

Ah!
So it was permission.
The formidable Professor Dante was granting approval like some tsundere character!
If that weren’t the case, wouldn’t he have told him to leave on the spot?

‘Excellent! I’ve landed the interview with Professor Dante! I can’t believe this is actually happening?’

He’d apparently turned down interviews from countless major media outlets, so coming in person really was the answer after all.

“I’ll proceed with the interview then!”

And so he pulled out the Camera, but Professor Dante’s brow furrowed.

“I assume you won’t permit recording, so a written interview will have to do… Ha ha….”

He quietly put the Camera away.

“When did you start living with such compromises?”
“……!”

A hidden blade flew straight into his chest.
Living with compromises, he said.
…Him?

‘I’m Trashi Forbtime. Section Chief of the Assassination Daily. Seven years of service. Reporter of the Month credentials….’

……Trashi, who had been reciting credentials about being the world’s greatest reporter, couldn’t bring himself to refute it.
It seemed his recently diminished sense of self-worth had been laid bare before Professor Dante.

‘It might be an overinterpretation….’

Fine then.
No more compromises.
And thus, the Camera and a full-fledged interview commenced.

Q. You’ve recently become the talk of the Capital. Since your Conquest Records were released, nobles, marquises, and adventure unit leaders have been offering nothing but praise. How do you feel, achieving such strong results in the Marquis League?
A. It’s garbage.

“Pardon?”
Trashi blinked.
“What.”
Dante didn’t so much as flinch.
“Ah, well… Never mind.”
The interview was off to a strange start.
Could this really continue like this?

Q. Might I ask the reason why?
A. Because I’m achieving results among garbage.

‘Huh?!’
Trashi’s mouth snapped shut. The Assassination Daily News was fundamentally an Empire publication. And Dante was conducting operations within the Empire! Yet such a blunt statement?
From an Assassination Unit Leader who currently commanded the highest stock price among Marquis League newcomers, no less?

“…Professor, are you feeling alright?”
“I’m not fine. How could competing with garbage be fine?”
…….
Regardless of the content, this scent…….
‘An exclusive!’
A particularly good one, too. In terms of traffic!

Q. But weren’t the other adventure groups competing also outstanding? There are certainly strong parties from throughout the Empire, and considerable foreign groups as well. For instance, the Harin Party. The Birsch Adventure Unit from the Kan Federation. Or, as some claim, the success of the Dante Assassination Unit was merely luck—the Killerbee Assassination Unit from Croitz, and so forth…

“Not at all.”
“Pardon?”

A. Among them, there wasn’t a single capable one. (B-but, the Kyunghap Mercenary Unit under the Kyunghap Starlight Seat↑…?) They were the most mediocre and worthless trash.

“W-wait just a moment…!”
…….
Trashi stopped the interview and pulled out a water bottle, wetting his lips. The barrage of explosive remarks came so suddenly his mind was spinning.
True, the Kyunghap Mercenary Unit had finished second in the Dante Assassination Unit’s second quest. But even so. Calling them mediocre and worthless?
And then, Trashi suddenly found himself asking a question.
He voiced it.
“Professor.”
…….
“This is a photograph of the Kyunghap Mercenary Unit. Do you know who is who?”
“I don’t.”
He didn’t know?
And yet such harsh words?
…….
Trashi fell silent for a moment, lost in confusion.
A Starlight Seat was the guardian deity of a nation.
Ordinarily, their domain was inviolable.
The professor was encroaching upon it recklessly.
‘But…….’
He looked into Dante’s eyes. Those startlingly vivid pink eyes.
A journalist’s instinct told him: the professor was speaking his genuine thoughts, with no deception or political intent behind them.
‘He doesn’t know, and doesn’t need to know—because their level is so far beneath him…… A terrifying confidence.’
Still, this was going too far.
He decided to give the professor some cover here.

Q. However, as you know, the Starlight Seats, including the Kyunghap Starlight Seat↑, are occupied with their own cultivation and lack the leisure to nurture warrior groups…….

“Stop.”
“Sir?”
“If you’re going to spout such nonsense, we’re done with this interview.”
Trashi’s heart sank.
Nonsense?
“Do you see those as ‘warrior groups’?”
Trashi’s mouth fell open.
Good heavens!
Was he really going to touch on that?
“……That statement is partially true, sir. It is tacitly acknowledged by all that adventure groups nurtured by Starlight Seats are openly used as ‘instruments for wielding influence in each domain.'”
So he tried to show agreement.

A. What do you think you know?

…What?
That’s not what you meant?
“…Was that not the story you meant to tell?”
Professor Dante drew in a breath, then released a long, weary sigh.
As if to say the whole situation was utterly pathetic.
‘…No?’
Then what on earth was Professor Dante trying to expose right now?
‘Surely not.’
Understanding crashed over me all at once.
‘Ah.’
That’s it.
So that was the story he meant to tell….
Words that only a genius professor could speak. A story about the ancient rot and flawed systems that plagued the Empire itself.

Q. ……I understand.

Trashi smiled.

A. No. You do not understand.

“Professor, please!!”
I’m going mad!
I couldn’t tell what was what anymore, and the frustration threatened to drive me out of my mind.
So I decided to try asking a more aggressive question.

Q. Then are you saying the quality of the entire Marquis League has declined?
A. Wrong. The Marquis League is the finest league in the Empire. It is because the Marquis’s discernment is remarkably superior.
Q. Your Grace’s keen eye—you mean it is because of the many high-caliber adventure units gathered here?
A. There is something more important than all of that combined.

Inside the Camera, Professor Dante laughed.

A. The Marquis accepted me.

⋮

Around that time, the gate of the Lodging swung open.

“I’m home~”

It was Grey, returning to the Residence with tired steps after finishing her private training.

“I’m home~ Dante~ caramel macchiato gelato taste~♬”

Grey, peeling off her outer garment, was rattling off nonsense.
…until she froze mid-motion.
She had locked eyes with Trashi.

“…….”
“…….”

A moment of silence stretched out.
Grey bared her teeth.

“What the hell. A burglar in broad daylight.”

Flinch!

“Y-yes? A burglar? Oh, no! I’m Trashi Forbteim. Department Head of the Assassination Daily. I’ve been here….”
“Hey. If you’re going to lie, at least put some effort into it. You know we don’t give interviews?”

Grey drew a short sword from her hip.
Shlink—

“Did Croitz send you?”

Oh no.
An SSS+ ranked assassin student had just drawn steel.
Trashi waved his hands frantically in protest.

“I—I got permission from the professor!!”
“What?”
“Professor! P-please explain!”

As Grey stepped forward, Dante emerged from the angle hidden behind the door.

“…Oh? He really was here. Do you know him, professor?”
“No.”

Trashi’s face drained of all color.

.
.
.
.
.

The next morning.

“You are hereby released.”

I’d been held in the Detention Center, and now the branch director of the Foreign Guild—the one who’d been on the run all this time—came to see me and bowed his head.

“I sincerely apologize for our negligence in oversight. Professor Bilemon’s Assassination Unit will receive enhanced support and guaranteed access to new Dungeon Conquest expeditions….”

At first I thought Shaman had handled it all, but that wasn’t it. According to the Script, Marquis Vincent seemed to favor me more than expected. He’d ordered my release directly.
Why…?
Was my Assassination Unit ranking high in the Marquis League these days?
Meanwhile, the moment I stepped out, people swarmed around me.

“Professor Dante! Please give us an interview!”
“Did you mean what you said?!”
“What did you mean when you said it wasn’t a Warrior Group?!”

What the—
Where did all these journalists come from?

“I don’t give interviews.”

I brushed them off and hurried away. Toward the station. Elise had brought the car. (Remarkably, she had a driver’s license.)

“But you gave one yesterday!”
“Your name is being mentioned dozens of times right now in the Starlight Seats’ Starfield! How do you feel about that!”
“The Agion Starlight Seat has requested a meeting—will you consider accepting?!”

What in the world was happening?
Why were the Starlight Seats suddenly taking notice?
It’s not even the Capital League—just the Marquis League.

“I heard the Marquis was delighted. Was this interview intentional on your part?”

Why on earth was the Marquis pleased again…?

It wasn’t long before he glimpsed the article featured on the Assassination Daily News homepage and understood the truth of it.

⋮
– [Real-Time #1] Exclusive Interview with Professor Dante Hiaka
⋮

What is this.

EP31

Betting Table, Marquis League

END

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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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