Chapter 18 – Who Watches the Watchers? (1)

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What kind of place was Veritas?

Some would call it Millennium’s top hacker club. 

Others might say it’s a pseudo-club masquerading as one.

And then there were those who dismissed them as a bunch of eccentric weirdos with questionable ethics, claiming to be white hackers while causing nothing but trouble.

But no matter what people said, there was one thing nobody could deny about Veritas—

“Their hacking skills. You won’t find anyone better in all of Kivotos.”

It was their skills that no one could deny.

The club was composed of five members—including Akeboshi Himari, the club president—Veritas (unofficially recognized) was essentially a gathering of Millennium’s greatest geniuses.

Perhaps because of this, despite their motto of “freedom and prevention of information monopolization”, they were also the only group in Millennium capable of keeping the Seminar in check—something rare in an academy where no other faction held such power.

In Kivotos, where academies function like nation-states, political structure and environment were crucial.

Thus, every academy had forces in place to monitor and restrain those in power, preventing tyranny.

Gehenna had the Disciplinary Committee to oppose the Pandemonium Society.

Trinity operated under a triumvirate, with three leaders balancing each other out.

But Millennium, despite being centralized like Gehenna, lacked any real opposition to the Seminar.

This was a major political and diplomatic vulnerability—akin to a nation’s fate resting entirely on a single leader’s whims.

And so, when I thought about Millennium’s political structure, a line from a manga I once read came to mind:

“Who watches the watchers?”

(Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?)

A famous phrase from ancient Roman poetry, also featured in DC Comics’ Watchmen.

Its meaning was simple:

People form groups to protect individuals.

Groups watch over individuals.

But if the group’s leader acts tyrannically—who stops them?

Those in power must be checked.

Yet, Millennium had no such watchdog.

This was a glaring flaw.

Originally, the phrase criticized surveillance systems—and in Watchmen, it questioned who supervises superheroes.

But in Millennium, it highlighted a deformed political structure.

Who would stop the transcendent figure meant to watch over individuals—Student Council President Tsukatsuki Rio?

I already had my answer.

This is precisely why I wanted to contact Veritas, and because I saw them as one of the keys to solving the numerous incidents that will occur in Millennium and Kivotos in the future.

***

So, I decided to meet Veritas.

Partly to thank them for their help so far. But also because building connections with them was a rational move.

Despite their reputation as oddballs, I thought they were good people at heart.

But then—

“Wh-What is this…? Harehareya*?”

*(Some wordplay which may sound weird but will make sense later) 

“What kind of weird nickname is that…? Anyway, this is the revenue from the broadcast of your fight with Wakamo.”

“You… made money off that broadcast?!”

Meeting them in person, I realized—

They were angels. They handed me cash the moment we met.

‘…I almost blurted out ‘I love you*’.’

*(saranghaeyo. The word which she used instead is Harehareya)

Tearing up, I stared at Omagari Hare, the white-haired girl casually sipping her energy drink while transferring an absurd amount of money into my account.

‘Was she a goddess?’

Still, I had to ask how this happened.

“How did you even get this much?”

“Well~ Let’s just say we… shook public opinion a little?”

The answer came from Konuri Maki, a redhead with blue eyes like mine.

Munching on a snack, she waved at me.

“Hey. Last time we only talked over comms, right?”

“Nice to meet you, Maki. But seriously, how?”

“Simple. We left our team’s name at the bottom of the broadcast, then sent out mass messages to citizens in Millennium and District U right after.”

“…?”

“Then we subtly marketed your name and set up a donation system. Hehe. People sent a lot.”

I was horrified.

What kind of scam did they pull?!

“That’s literally voice phishing!”

“Strictly speaking, it’s not voice, it’s phishing mail”

“Same difference!”

“Strictly speaking, it was not email phishing. We asked for sponsorships, we didn’t force it.”

This time, it was Otose Kotama—a beige-haired girl with a headset—who replied, not even looking up from her keyboard.

‘How could she say that so shamelessly?’

‘Is this why everyone calls them weirdos?’

A sudden migraine was coming on.

Noticing my shock, Kagami Chihiro, the navy-haired member, gave a wry smile.

“Sigh. I tried to stop them. Sorry, Nanashi. But at least it wasn’t illegal or forced, so don’t worry too much.”

“Sure, some called it phishing, but since we actually delivered, who cares? Plus, all the money went to you.”

“Mhm, mhm. Basically a good deed.”

“I agree.”

“……”

I just sighed.

Where do I even start criticizing this?

The amount in my account wasn’t a small amount, and an uneasy feeling crept up on me.

So I asked—

“Shouldn’t we return this…?”

“Why?”

“Just keep it.”

“I think so too.”

“Honestly, I say take it and pay the citizens back later through your actions.”

They told me to keep it.
Even Chihiro, who seemed like the voice of reason, agreed.

‘…Is this really okay?’

Fine. Let’s think rationally.

Nobody was forced to donate—people chose to support me.

Returning it would just burden Veritas or Himari anyway.

“…Then, I’ll accept it gratefully.”

“Good choice.”

“Yeah!”

I smiled bitterly, ending my internal debate. 

I never expected to suddenly get rich like this.

‘Is this the reward for doing good deeds?’

It felt nice, but also weird.

***

Despite the odd start, my first official meeting with Veritas went surprisingly well.

Since I’d revealed my identity from the beginning, I could interact with them more comfortably.

‘Though the amount in my account still weighed on my mind… I’d forget about it eventually.’

After some casual conversation—basically an icebreaker—I decided to get to the point.

First, a question that had been bugging me.

“One thing I’m curious about—why did you help me when I first asked?”

Honestly, it was still a mystery.

Even if Himari vouched for me, we had no prior connection between me and them.

So why did they step forward and help me?

Chihiro answered.

“There are several reasons, but the biggest one is… we’re all rooting for you.”

“Since the Kaiser PMC incident, your actions have helped reduce Millennium’s headaches too.”

“Me? Millennium’s headaches… Really?”

“Public security is directly tied to an academy’s safety—online or offline. Your work has undeniably helped Kivotos’ stability.”

“……”

“Either way, we’d have cooperated as long as you were contributing to peace. This isn’t just my opinion—it’s Veritas’ collective stance.”

‘I wasn’t expecting such a serious answer.’ 

My face felt oddly warm.

I’d assumed it was just mutual benefit, where we help each other out due to a common interest. 

This might be the first time I’ve personally received words of support and thanks.

Then, Kotama added—

“Of course, another reason is that cooperating with you benefits us.”

“Benefits?”

“Regardless of your goals, Silk’s actions align with our motto. Since the Sanctum Tower went down, illegal activities by black markets, corporations, and other groups have increased. Posing a threat to Millennium and Veritas. You’ve helped curb that.”

“I… see.”

“Plus, with Silk drawing public attention, it’s easier for us to operate in the shadows.”

She continued, explaining how ties with me brought Veritas material and informational gains.

“O-Okay, you can stop now.”

“Embarrassed?”

“N-No. I’m proud. Very proud.”

“Pfft. Sure, I’ll let you off.”

Being directly praised was embarrassing.

Especially by main story characters, not just mobs or civilians. It felt like I was being acknowledged somehow and that’s why I felt squirmish.

‘Please stop…’

I tried to ignore Hare and Maki’s teasing and change the subject. 

But then Hare suddenly dropped a bombshell.

“Speaking of which, Nanashi.”

“Y-Yes?”

“You’ll keep working with us, right?”

“…Uh, sure?”

‘Why bring this up now?’

I looked at her nervously.

She grinned and said something that left me dumbfounded.

“Then, wanna do a collab stream?”

“…Huh?”

“A villain-hunting broadcast. Not unofficial like last time—a sponsored one.”

“What kind of…”

This was completely unexpected.

Instinctively, my thoughts turned negative.

‘A hero broadcast? What kind of absurd—’

“You need money, don’t you?”

“……”

Hmm. 

A broadcast, huh?

I guess I should consider it seriously.

(She folded immediately)