Rebecca was sitting on my living room sofa.
“Welco ho, Professor.”
Her voice was weak. Worn out as always—drained and frayed, like soone who’d been ground down over ti.
I wasn’t surprised. She was soone I expected to run into—eventually, sowhere, sohow. It just happened a bit earlier than anticipated.
“Would you two step out for a mont?”
“Yes.”
“And no eavesdropping once you leave.”
“...Understood.”
She dismissed her knight Cheongru and shadow agent Lay. I gave Adele a small nod as well—asking silently if she could give us the room.
And so, the only two left in the living room were and Rebecca. I took a seat on the couch opposite her.
What was she here to talk about?
Whatever it was, I already didn’t see her in a favorable light.
“You always do this. Trample over rules like they’re beneath you.”
“Do I?”
“You tried to assassinate an ally during warti. You barge uninvited into a professor’s private residence, unlock the door on your own, and then keep your shoes on inside a shoe-shelf ho.”
“I just—”
“Princess Rebecca.”
“Yes.”
Let make one thing absolutely clear.
This is my house. It always will be.
“In my ho, you take your shoes off.”
“......”
Even to my own ears, my voice sounded cold—unyielding.
Perhaps the kind of tone she’d never heard from anyone in her life.
And then, unexpectedly—Rebecca bent down and removed her shoes.
“Is that acceptable?”
White feet, marred with blisters and scars.
Surprisingly obedient.
“What do you want?”
“...People say I’m emotionally dry. But you’re even drier than I imagined, Professor.”
“Dry?”
“A cadet’s feet are ruined like this... Wouldn’t a word of concern be appropriate?”
Her feet were in that condition because she’d been attending funerals. District 0, District 2—conflict had broken out in more than just a few areas. She’d gone from altar to altar, kneeling and praying for days.
Assassination Daily was filled with articles about it. The community forum Assassin Town had nothing but praise and gratitude toward her.
“That I can’t deny. You’ve put in a great deal of effort.”
“...Thank you.”
“Did you punish Elize, now that she’s back at the dormitory?”
“I didn’t. At first I wasn’t sure, but... for soone like you to give her that order, it makes a strange kind of sense.”
So she knows about the Xikos family’s Command Voice.
Naturally. That technique had originally been a royal privilege.
“And yet here you are—your toes still aching, I assu—visiting a lowly professor with no rest.”
“I ca to apologize.”
“Apologize?”
“For attacking an ally during warti. For speaking disrespectfully to you. For ordering an assassination through Elize. I sincerely apologize for all of it.”
There was no groveling. Even while apologizing, Rebecca remained proud and arrogant.
Still—I was surprised.
Because this didn’t match the Rebecca I’d known.
She was not soone who apologized.
“I accept it.”
But the apology was just the buildup.
Once I took a closer look, I saw what she was really here for.
“...The departnt will soon enter into an agreent with the Empire. They’re going to open up the Assassination Division and begin academic exchange. Are you aware of this?”
She was talking about Main Story 2: The Betting Table.
“I know.”
“I figured you would. I won’t ask how you know—it’s not even surprising anymore. But I want to stop this agreent.”
“...Why?”
“Because, in the long run, we could beco a vassal state of the Empire.”
She then began rattling off her reasons—but I didn’t need to hear them. They were straight from one of the bad endings.
What mattered was why she was saying any of this now.
And the answer was obvious.
It must conflict with the Dormant Dragon Cadets’ ultimate objective.
Their goal: Assassinate the Emperor.
If the Empire gained detailed access to the Dormant Dragon Cadets—their identities, tactics, evolving fighting styles—then their chances of success would drop to nearly zero.
“I heard you’re one of the key cards in this agreent, Professor.”
“......”
“That true?”
...What?
That was news to .
“I was the fool for not realizing how important you are.”
“......”
“So will you join ? If you help stop the agreent, I’ll pay you 100 million Hika.”
She offered an enormous sum.
One hundred million Hika—enough to free soone from a four-year White Saber contract in a single stroke.
It was a mountain of money.
“......”
But I already knew my answer. That money had no sway over .
Was I going to help Rebecca sabotage the agreent?
Absolutely not.
In fact, I felt an overwhelming urge to say hell no.
I had no reason to kill the Emperor. As an endga player, The Betting Table was my best route for farming Stellar Fragnts. And as a professor... I had personal ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) ambitions too.
Just picture it.
The day Elize Xikos is unveiled to the world.
Right now, she still has her flaws. But polishing her—that’s my job.
To have a cadet shaped by my hands outshine the Empire’s top assassins across the continent... That would be imnse.
And the flood of Stellar Fragnts that would co from that?
She wanted to throw that all away?
Was I insane?
So my answer was already decided.
“I understand.”
In that mont—
Rebecca’s crimson eyes trembled.
“You... understand.”
“Yes.”
“Just like that? That easily?”
“I don’t see why you’re surprised. I will help you sabotage the agreent.”
Her red lips twitched.
“......”
She tilted her head slightly, furrowed her brow—confused.
Clearly, she’d expected to refuse. I always had, every ti we t.
And at the end of that hesitation—ca a question, barely audible, laced with the first honest emotion she’d shown so far.
“...Why?”
A pure question.
The answer was simple.
Because—
“Because I want to help you.”
That’s a lie.
"....."
Rebecca crossed her arms, then her legs. She stared deeply into , as if trying to read my thoughts.
There were three reasons I lied to Rebecca.
First—our affinity was already stuck at [Loathing]. By nudging that hatred further, I’d be able to farm Stellar Fragnts.
Second—within The Betting Table, the role of the Dormant Dragon Cadets would beco critical. And this was the perfect chance to amputate the cancer that was Rebecca.
Third—I just didn’t like her.
Originally, Hiaka Academy: Departnt of Assassination was a ga about racing through chaos, making choices, and forging your own answers.
In short:
The mont The Betting Table began, Rebecca would be completely betrayed.
I would expose every Dormant Dragon Cadet to the Empire, raise them under my na, and prepare them for the Demon King's War.
The risk, of course, was that Rebecca could kill . But I was strong now—and with so negotiation with the Departnt Head, I could secure a safety net. So from a player's perspective, this was simply the best play.
That's when Rebecca asked:
“You say you want to help .”
“Yes.”
“I just don’t get it. What’s so charming about ?”
Now ca the ti for acting. From here until the agreent passed, I had to earn Rebecca’s trust.
I slowly lowered my gaze.
“Your feet are beautiful.”
“...My feet?”
“Yes. Without exaggeration—they’re the most beautiful feet I’ve seen.”
“......”
Rebecca looked down at the ends of her crossed legs.
Red, blotched feet. Covered in scars, blisters, and bruises.
“I still don’t get it, Professor.”
“There was betrayal. Collapse. Kreutz mocks Hiaka as if it’s a joke. Everyone is steeped in defeat. And in tis like this... do you know where the crowd turns its eyes?”
“Where?”
“The crowd always looks up.”
I raised my finger and pointed at the ceiling.
Her crimson eyes followed the motion. She would’ve seen her own reflection in the shards of the chandelier above.
“A broken war front being reversed by the return of a general... A crumbling army finding hope through a leader’s appearance... History is full of such monts. But Hiaka? The royal family cut support to the Academy.”
“......”
“I understand the royal family's reasoning. The current assassins are doing fine. But the Academy—an institution with no results, no successes—has beco a liability. And as a result, following their announcent, many cadets and professors filed to leave.”
In that mont, the only one from the royal family who stood up for the Academy—was Rebecca.
I rembered the top-voted posts on Assassin Town:
———
< Still, it’s reassuring that Princess Rebecca is here. >
< Is she okay? She’s been visiting every funeral altar for 2 weeks straight... she hasn’t even returned to the dorm. Looks like she hasn’t showered either;; >
< Everyone should know this—thanks to the princess, the royal relief fund increased fivefold. >
———
It was an imnse effort.
“You did what even the professors couldn’t do.”
“......”
Rebecca swept back her shining blonde hair. Then, she lowered her head slightly.
“I only did what needed to be done.”
I, too, had only said what needed to be said. But since I was already building trust, I decided to take one more step.
I pulled out a dkit from my [Inventory], walked over, and knelt—at the feet of the illustrious princess.
“What are you doing?”
She instinctively tried to pull her leg away. I gently grabbed her ankle.
“Professor.”
“I’ll just apply so simple treatnt.”
“I’m fine.”
“Your feet are not.”
“No—I an... I don’t like people touching my body—”
“The Departnt of Assassination... finds comfort wherever these feet touch. What thanks did the faculty offer you?”
“......”
“Be still.”
Basic first aid.
A gentle wash.
Blisters cleaned.
Discharge and blood wiped.
Ointnt applied.
Light bandages wrapped.
If she’d gone to the infirmary instead of here, the job could’ve been done quicker.
What surprised was how many calluses Rebecca had on her feet. I’d thought they were just pale. But every spot I touched was hardened.
“The other foot.”
“......”
This ti, I instructed her.
She didn’t obey. But she didn’t pull away either.
Thanks to that, the second dressing went smoother.
This, of course, was all a strategy. I had already confird through investigation that Rebecca was a deeply unstable princess.
She wasn’t a legitimate royal. She was the daughter of King Hiaka III and a concubine. Born not in the palace, but in so backwoods village. Even now, the royal elders whispered that she carried the blood of a worm.
—So you too? You think I’m a bug born from a street wench’s womb, soone unfit to be called a princess? You too?
The line she’d scread while yanking a maid’s hair the first ti we t—it made sense now.
And I knew:
Characters with backgrounds like hers were highly vulnerable to human kindness.
If I wanted to remove this cancer nad Rebecca later—this act of earning her trust was perfect. Oscar-worthy, even.
That’s what I thought. Until she said—
“...You’re not going to betray , are you?”
One sentence.
And with it, the air shifted.
“What?”
I lifted my head.
t her red eyes—and felt a flicker of unease.
“...After all this... you’re not going to betray , right?”
Sothing felt wrong.
Her gaze—usually sharp or hollow—was now strangely soft.
“Why would I? I’m just a broke professor being offered 100 million Hika.”
“You received a national treasure loan, didn’t you? With power like that, you don’t need money.”
“What would I even gain by betraying you?”
“I wouldn’t know. Who ever really knows what people want?”
“Besides, who in this kingdom would dare betray a princess?”
“Plenty have.”
Rebecca’s words wavered slightly.
“...They all did.”
After she said that—just for a second—I thought:
Did I misjudge sothing?
I’d chosen betrayal for greater profit. I’d acted falsely to gain trust. I was in the middle of building that trust.
I’d checked the logic. No errors.
“If you feel even slightly unsure, tell now. We can cancel the deal here.”
Rebecca said no more after that.
But in that silence, I realized—
She was acting too. I couldn’t confirm it without her 【Thoughts】 visible, but it was obvious.
After all, I’d lied through my teeth.
That she was sacrificing for the Academy?
Don’t make laugh.
The truth was far more vile.
Rebecca wasn’t praying for the fallen as a Saint. She was using Curse No.75: Soul Devouring—placing curses on every corpse she ca across, while pretending to mourn.
Amidst hundreds, thousands of deaths, she alone prayed for herself—stealing souls under the guise of sainthood.
I’m not blaming her. I’m not much different myself.
The point is—
Just as she’s trying to use the dead—and —
“I promise. I won’t betray you.”
—I’ll use her, too.
“......”
Rebecca nodded.
***
As she stood and tried to put on her shoes, she staggered.
The bandaged foot wasn’t used to movent.
“...Ah.”
She stumbled forward.
I instinctively caught her in my arms.
Thud.
Eve sprang to her feet and ran. Even after skidding across the gravel, her knees and elbows bleeding—she had to run.
“That way!”
“Don’t let her get away!”
The assassins were coming.
Reviews
All reviews (0)