Chapter 26

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The first-year classes at the Southern Academy are divided into four: Class A, Class B, Class C, and Class D.

Each class has about twenty students, except for Class D, which has only three.

Class D is where students with various issues are placed—they’re supernaturals who were admitted but come with too many problems. Sometimes, students who cause trouble are transferred to Class D as a form of isolation.

Field practice involves students facing monsters directly, which is extremely dangerous.

Even with weaker monsters and superhuman students, it’s like dealing with a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment.

For this reason, the academy takes every possible safety measure.

If all the first-year students were to move as one group, it would be too many for the teachers to handle, making it hard to respond if any issues arise.

So, field practice is conducted in rotations by class: today is Class A’s turn, tomorrow will be Class B, and the next day, Class C. Class D, with its three students, joins in by sending one student with each of the other classes during their field practice.

“Is everyone here?”

As always, Angelica spoke while chewing on a cigarette like it was gum. She quickly counted heads and gave a small nod.

In front of the students lined up was a large black-coated bus parked and waiting. The field trip destination was the National Institute for Monster Research, where they study monsters.

To investigate and research monsters, they need samples.

Since the National Institute captures and keeps monsters underground, it’s located far from urban areas as a safety measure.

Even the weakest monster is a threat to ordinary people. If even one were to escape, it could lead to a terrible incident.

For these reasons, having transportation is essential for field practice trips.

True to the academy’s preference for everything large and grand, the bus was impressive in size.

“If everyone’s ready, get on one by one.”

Under Angelica’s strict guidance, the students began boarding the bus.

Watching them line up and climb aboard, I pulled my backpack tightly against my body.

Heh, I’ve been waiting for today. Time to erase the evidence.

After cutting and reattaching my limbs daily, I even started to think that maybe just staying like this wouldn’t be so bad. But no, that’s not an option. It would be a problem if anyone saw it.

Handling it thoroughly, without any trace left, is the best approach. Goodbye, my dear limbs, I’ll miss you.

Watching the students board the bus in a single line was almost like watching kids go on a field trip. The excitement and chatter from anticipation or anxiety only added to that impression.

When my turn came, I got on quickly too. It looked expensive from the outside, but inside, it was even more luxurious. The gold lighting on the ceiling, the plush seats—it felt like a limousine had been remodeled into a bus.

Even considering that academy students are future warriors, this seems excessive.

Every time I see these extravagances, it’s a reminder of just how favorably supernaturals are treated.

And if this is how they treat students, full-fledged warriors are bound to have even better accommodations.

No wonder there’s been talk around society about the preferential treatment of supernaturals. Accusing them of discrimination and excessive privileges.

But it’s unavoidable. Supernaturals are the main pillar that supports society. If they were gone, society, and even humanity, would collapse.

If they’re forced to carry such burdens, they deserve rights to match that burden, don’t they?

The preference and benefits given to supernaturals have their roots in past events.

Humans tend to take kindness for granted over time, seeing it as a right, and sacrifice as an obligation.

The battles against monsters from other dimensions are endless, and it’s always the supernaturals who head to the front lines.

They’re the ones constantly getting injured and shedding blood in these wars, while regular citizens stand back and watch from afar.

Plus, back then, there wasn’t much in the way of mass media.

People were oblivious to the realities of war. When dimensional rifts appeared, they’d evacuate, and once things settled, they’d return. If there were casualties, they’d blame the supernaturals, demanding to know why they weren’t doing their jobs with all the taxes being poured into their support.

Despite calling them heroes, it was essentially conscription.

It was always the same people who fought. Even if they died, replacements would come.

Supernaturals were never abundant, often far too few, but new ones would awaken consistently to fill the gaps.

There were always too few capable fighters, and even though the supernaturals on the front lines fought with all they had, outsiders didn’t understand this burden.

Just the sight of a monster could cause mental breakdowns for the common folk, so most information was carefully restricted and never reached the public.

Supernaturals were treated like disposable ammo, which was absurd. Given their importance, they should have been treated with the utmost respect, but instead, they faced contempt and ridicule. It was as if a country at war had started treating its soldiers like guard dogs left at home. Rather than receiving honor, they were met with scorn and mockery.

Was it complacency, or just an illusion of safety? They thought life would stay peaceful forever simply because it had been so far.

Supernaturals were conscripted into battle without regard for their basic rights or personal will, yet they received almost no compensation.

Back then, society held a firm belief that supernaturals were duty-bound to sacrifice themselves.

Eventually, the supernaturals reached their breaking point and rose up, outraged at the society they’d risked their lives to protect. Was this what they had fought so hard for?

Supernaturals are far stronger than non-supernaturals, especially those in the upper ranks—they were like walking strategic weapons.

So, what happens when such beings start staging armed protests? Chaos came. Society crumbled, and nations collapsed.

That was when the supernatural rebellion started.

That was a few decades ago.

After that, the treatment of supernaturals drastically improved.

Of course, it wasn’t solely due to that incident. Multiple factors also played a role.

Public perception shifted over time, and the monsters’ attacks grew increasingly fierce.

When ordinary people start feeling the heat from a distant fire, they can’t exactly criticize the firefighters trying to put it out, right?

Well, whatever the reason, if we’re receiving perks and privileges, we might as well enjoy them without feeling guilty.

With my backpack slung over my shoulder, I scanned the seats, looking for an empty one. Where would Alice be… Ah, there she is!

She was in the row right in front of the last one.

I took a few steps toward her with a light gait but stopped abruptly. Someone was already sitting beside her.

Violet hair, eyes shadowed with such dark circles it looked like someone could jump rope with them.

A round, full-moon-shaped earring, and chunky rings on all ten fingers clasped together.

Her uniform was unbuttoned, and she was chewing gum, blowing bubbles—a picture-perfect delinquent.

Alice was trembling beside her.

She’d glance sideways at the girl now and then, then flinch and look away as if she might make eye contact.

This girl wasn’t a student from Class A. I’d never seen her in our classroom.

So, she must be from the problem-riddled Class D. With that striking appearance, I knew exactly who she was.

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you.”

At my words, the girl turned her head and looked up at me.

Alice spotted me and brightened, her eyes silently pleading, Save me!

“Would you mind giving up your seat? I’d like to sit with my friend.”

If she refused, I’d just find another spot with Alice.

But she wasn’t going to refuse. She might be a troublemaker, but she was also flexible.

The girl from Class D—Regina—stared at me intensely.

Then, with a huff, she spoke up.

“And what’s with all that stuff? Think you’re going on a picnic or something?”

“Even on a beautiful mountain, you need food to enjoy the view. Gotta keep your stomach full for energy.”

I pulled a chocolate bar from my backpack, a snack to use as a cover.

At the bottom of the bag were Lucia’s arms and legs, cut up and packed to reduce their bulk. On top of that, I’d placed some snacks, so if anyone peeked inside, all they’d see would be food.

“Want one?”

“…If you’re offering, I won’t say no.”

Fun fact of the day:

Regina’s favorite snack is chocolate.

Give it to her as a gift, and she can’t resist.

When I handed over the chocolate bribe, Regina gave up the seat without a fuss.

She plopped down right in the row behind us, and I heard the rustling sound of her unwrapping the chocolate.

“L-Lu… Lucia…” Alice stammered, looking at me with teary eyes.

With trembling hands, she pulled out her notebook and started writing.

‘Thank you for helping me. She was scary.’

Alice’s severe stuttering made communication difficult.

So, she carried this notebook with her and wrote down what she wanted to say.

I thought it might be better to work on her stuttering itself, but fixing that isn’t something that can be done overnight. So, the notebook would have to do for now.

“Don’t worry so much. Judging others by their appearance can hurt their feelings,” I whispered gently in her ear.

With Regina right behind us, I kept my voice as low as possible.

‘But she looked at me with this strange expression. It was a creepy smile. It gave me chills.’ she wrote.

That’s just because she thinks you’re cute, Alice.

Despite her rough appearance, Regina actually loves cute things. That’s probably why she chose to sit next to you.

She was probably hurt inside because you looked scared.

“Hey.”

Suddenly, Regina called from behind us.

Her voice was low and chilling.

Had she overheard my whisper? I turned around cautiously, only to be greeted by her hand extended toward me.

“More.”

So, she just wanted more chocolate.

Her unapologetic tone left me momentarily speechless, but I handed her another bar.

Regina’s gaze gleamed coldly. As if she’d found an easy mark.

…But that must be my imagination, right?

Author Note

Regina likes chocolate.

I want to eat chocolate too.

Translator Note

Every academy novel isn’t complete without a yankee I suppose, heh.

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