Chapter 27: Recognition Desire Monster (2)

“Suddenly? A club or something like that has nothing to do with what we were just talking about.”

Half flustered, half suspicious.

That was the look she gave me.

The wariness that had almost faded during our counseling session was surging back.

Of course, that was only natural.

In the middle of a life counseling session, I had suddenly uncovered a secret she hadn’t revealed to anyone else, and now I was bringing up a topic that seemed completely unrelated to the conversation.

“It’s not ‘sudden.’ And it’s not unrelated either.”

Maybe it’s time to move.

“Shall we continue this conversation while we walk?”

I gestured for Rone, who was eyeing me with suspicion, to follow me.

The initial plan to restore her self-esteem had two main approaches.

First, persuading her to use her Gift in quieter ways rather than extreme situations like academy raids.

This was like letting air out of a balloon— preventing it from bursting by releasing pressure beforehand.

Second, addressing the root cause— her low self-esteem— and helping her grow past it.

Since the academy raids stemmed from the void in her heart, filling that void would be the most complete and ideal solution.

But the first approach was flawed because her Gift thrived on others’ attention.

The second approach, while ideal, was unrealistic given the academy’s tight timeline.

In the end, restoring her self-esteem directly wasn’t feasible.

“Rone, aren’t you anxious about being overshadowed by other students at the academy? If so, wouldn’t joining a club, honing your skills, and building achievements help ease that insecurity?”

“…Club activities won’t be enough. What I want isn’t just to be slightly better than others—I want to become something so special that no other student can even compare! Of course… I know this is just selfishness on my part. But the thought of going back to how things were before, when no one paid any attention to me… it makes me so anxious…”

“Then what if it wasn’t just any club, but a special club?”

“…A special club?”

In that case, why not think the opposite way?

If you can’t hit the brakes before a broken cliff’s edge, why not floor the accelerator and leap to the other side?

If I flooded her with an insane, overwhelming dose of dopamine— something far beyond the meager thrill of academy raids— wouldn’t she forget all about those small, pitiful delusions?

As we talked, the two of us arrived at the fifth floor of the First Main Building, at the very end of the hallway— the so-called “Sealed Room.”

The door wasn’t locked.

As planned, Elain had already come with the key and left it open.

When the door opened, the musty smell of dust greeted Rone.

“…Is this the ‘special club room’ you were talking about?”

She didn’t hide her disappointment as she looked at the cluttered, dust-covered interior of what seemed like a storage room.

“To be precise, this is where it will be in the future. At this stage, the club hasn’t even been officially established yet.”

“…”

At my words, a faint crease formed between Rone’s brows.

She seemed noticeably disappointed that the place I had brought her to was such a shabby, unremarkable room.

“I’m sorry, Professor Allen. I don’t know what kind of club you had in mind, but it seems quite different from what I was expecting. I apologize again, but I’ll have to decline your invitation to join.”

“Don’t be so quick to dismiss it. Why not at least hear me out first? You’ve come all this way— wouldn’t it be a waste to leave without even listening to the full proposal? Besides, who knows? Maybe someday, you’ll be the one begging me to let you join this club.”

“I highly doubt I’ll ever beg to join, but… fine. You’re right— it would be rude to leave without hearing you out after coming all this way.”

Her words carried the unspoken implication that she would only extend the bare minimum of courtesy before leaving.

But if I had to guess, that wouldn’t be the case.

“The exact name of the club hasn’t been decided yet, but its activities are already planned. It will involve collecting and investigating rumors and mysteries circulating among the students within the academy. We’ll dissect urban legends from a humanities-based perspective. Hmm… now that I think about it, it might be good to include actively solving students’ supernatural-related concerns as part of the club’s activities.”

This idea wasn’t something I came up with on the spot just to deal with Rone’s ghost story.

In fact, I’d been planning it ever since the moment I exorcised Brandon.

To solve supernatural incidents, I couldn’t do it alone.

But the nature of urban legends— that they grow stronger the more widely known they become— severely limits how much we can reveal about their existence.

In the end, only a capable few can handle them.

I agonized over whether students should be the ones to take on this role—both ethically and practically.

However, given the academy’s isolated environment, students were the perfect fit.

Their status allowed them to move freely without arousing suspicion, and many of them were Gift-bearers, making them ideal for resolving supernatural incidents within the academy.

And the most natural way to form a group with such students—

Not to mention, securing proper access to this locked storeroom instead of just sneaking in—

The best solution that met all these conditions was a club.

“To be honest, Professor Allen, the club activities you’re describing do sound unique and interesting… but they don’t strike me as particularly serious. Frankly, I don’t find them special at all. Maybe a few students with niche interests might be drawn to it, but I don’t think I’m one of them.”

As she turned to leave, I stopped her.

“What I just explained is only half— no, less than half— of the club’s public-facing activities.”

“Public-facing…? That makes it sound like there are hidden activities you don’t disclose.”

“Of course. Rone, did you know that urban legends aren’t just fiction? They actually exist in reality. And it’s not just urban legends— this world is filled with countless supernatural phenomena that defy conventional explanation.”

“…Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. I’m not joking— I’m being completely serious.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re saying. I should get going now. I have another lecture soon.”

“Then shall we meet again later?”

“No. That won’t be necessary.”

Still, for a brief moment, she had confided in me and tried to rely on me.

Now, after suspicion and disappointment, she seemed completely fed up with me.

This stung— both as a teacher and as a human being.

But what could I do?

“How about three hours ago, right here?”

“Even if you say that, I have no intention of meeting again… Wait, what? Three hours ago? What do you mean—”

She turned her head in confusion, staring at me.

But instead of answering with words, I responded with action.

I raised my hand toward the room.

After several observations, I had roughly figured out the conditions for recognizing the regression in this sealed space.

Why was it that only one person triggered the regression, yet Elaine and I always perceived it together?

And why couldn’t others sense it?

The answer lay in the structure of this room’s regression.

Anyone inside the room during the initial regression became registered as a “regressor” of this space.

Once registered, even if they didn’t trigger the regression themselves— or weren’t inside the sealed room— they would still accompany the regression.

So, if regression was triggered now while Rone was inside this room, she, too, would be pulled into it.

Flash!

A familiar light burst from the center of the room.

As the light engulfed us and regression began, one crucial realization flickered in my fading consciousness:

Ah, this means I’ll have to lecture again.

If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve triggered the regression before class.

.

.

.

Thud.

Rone, her skirt now dust-stained from the warehouse floor, knelt before me and pleaded:

“Professor Allen! Please, let me join the club! I beg you!”

At her desperate plea, Elaine and I exchanged glances and smiled.

[Urban Legend: “The Approval-Seeking Monster” has been resolved.]

[Rone Justia has purified the anomaly and absorbed its lingering wish by resolving the urban legend.]

Simultaneously, the ghost story that had clung to her vanished, its purified remnants dissolving away.

This marked the resolution of the third urban legend.