---
The office was quiet when Michael pushed the door open.
Afternoon sunlight poured in through the half-open blinds, striping the wooden floor in golden bands.
The faint scent of parchnt and ink lingered in the air, remnants of the paperwork Maria had been organizing before she left for her afternoon class.
Now it was just Michael, and the boy who trailed behind him with hesitant steps.
The student's uniform was a ss in mud clung to the fabric like stains of sha, his nose still bore the dried crust of blood, and his hands trembled faintly at his sides.
He didn't lift his gaze; instead, his eyes clung stubbornly to the floor as if afraid that even the walls of this room might judge him.
Michael gestured toward one of the wooden chairs.
"Sit."
The boy obeyed quickly, like soone used to following orders. Michael studied him for a mont before leaning against the desk across from him, arms crossed.
"I see you've got the strength of at least E-." His tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "That's not weak. With a little grit, you could've fought back against those idiots. So why endure it?"
The boy's shoulders stiffened. His lips parted slightly, but no words ca out.
His hands clenched tightly, knuckles turning pale, and his eyes still fixed on the floor glimred faintly. It wasn't just fear; it was pain, humiliation, sothing deeper.
Michael exhaled through his nose. He had seen this before students who could fight but didn't, because the enemy wasn't just fists and kicks.
He decided to push. "You realize," he said slowly, "that as Chief Inspector of the Disciplinary Committee, I can report today's incident directly to the Vice Principal. Those noble brats could be suspended him, even expelled. You don't have to carry this."
That got a reaction.
The boy's head snapped up, panic blazing in his eyes.
"No! Please—don't do that!"
Michael straightened, eyes narrowing. "Why not? They broke the rules. Punishnt is the Academy's law."
The boy's lips trembled. For a heartbeat, he looked like he would clamp his mouth shut and say nothing. But desperation slipped past his defenses.
"They'll harm my family!"
The words were out before he realized it, and as soon as they escaped, he slapped a hand over his mouth, horrified. His breathing quickened, his shoulders shook.
Michael's gaze sharpened. He caught it—the truth hiding beneath all the silence. Family. Threats. This wasn't simple bullying.
He crouched slightly so he was eye level with the boy. His voice was calr now, softer but firm. "So it's blackmail, isn't it? They're not just hitting you. They're holding sothing over you."
The boy flinched, but he said nothing. His eyes darted away like a trapped animal searching for escape.
Michael didn't press harder. Instead, he leaned back and folded his arms again. "You're having a hard ti, that much is obvious. But listen—I'm not here to make things worse. If you can't tell everything, fine. Then let's start simple. Basics."
He paused, studying the boy carefully. "Your na."
The silence stretched before the boy finally lowered his hand from his mouth. His voice was shaky, small, but he forced the words out.
"My… My na is Alex Vonstel. Class C, first year. I'm… I'm a commoner. From Selorn City."
Michael blinked. The surna tugged at sothing in the back of his mory. Vonstel.
He'd heard it sowhere before but no clear image ca. A rchant guild? A minor quest giver? He couldn't recall. It was like chasing smoke.
So he let it go for now. "Alright, Alex. Let ask you again, was today the first ti they targeted you? Or is this a regular thing?"
Alex bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. He hesitated, his fists trembling on his knees. Then, with a voice weighed down by frustration, he whispered:
"…Regular."
Michael's jaw tightened. His instincts were right. This wasn't a one-ti skirmish—it was systematic.
He leaned forward. "Then tell everything. From the start."
---
Alex's words spilled out slowly, haltingly, as though each one cost him sothing. But Michael listened, every detail fitting into the picture he already suspected.
"They're… from noble families," Alex said. His voice cracked, but he forced himself to continue. "Russell Belnic. His family holds a baron's title. He's the one who leads them. Then there's Anross Pery… he's from a branch of the Braveheart family. The other two are just his followers."
Michael's fingers tapped the desk in a slow rhythm, his thoughts sharpening with every na. Braveheart. A branch family, but dangerous enough.
But he asked "Why don't you tell the instructor about your situation?
"I tried," Alex went on, tears welling in his eyes. "I went to Instructor Relaon. I thought… if I reported it, they'd be punished. He called them in, scolded them in front of . But then… then they ca back. And it was worse." His voice cracked into a choked laugh. "They said I embarrassed them, and for that, I'd pay double."
Michael's chest tightened, a cold fury coiling beneath his ribs.
"So you went back to Relaon," he guessed.
Alex nodded, trembling. "Yes. I begged him to do sothing. And he—he told … he told I was lying. That if I falsely accused noble students again, I'd be expelled from the Academy."
Michael's eyes darkened. "And he didn't even ask for evidence."
Alex wiped his tears roughly, his voice breaking. "Because Russell bragged. He said his family bribed Relaon. That no matter what I said, nothing would stick. And if I tried to go to another professor or instructor, they'd fra my family as traitors to the Kingdom and throw them in prison."
The room fell silent. Michael clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms. His earlier suspicion solidified into certainty: this wasn't just student cruelty. It was corruption, festering in the heart of the Academy.
He took a steadying breath and asked quietly, "Instructor Samuel Relaon… that's the sa one who showed up earlier, isn't it?"
Alex hesitated, then nodded. "…Yes."
That was enough.
Michael leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, but his mind burned with cold determination. His instincts had scread at him the mont that fox-faced instructor appeared, and now he had confirmation.
But Alex wasn't done. His voice trembled as he looked at Michael desperately. "Please… don't tell anyone. If they find out I spoke, they'll—"
Michael cut him off sharply. "Why? Why keep living like this? Why not fight back, or accept help? What good does silence do you?"
Alex's eyes flared. He slamd his hands onto his knees, shaking.
"I'm not a coward!" His voice cracked, filled with raw pain. Tears stread down his face, but his gaze burned.
"Do you think I haven't tried? Do you think I haven't fought? I… I train every day. Harder than anyone in my class. I swing until my hands bleed, until my body won't move anymore. Because I want to get strong enough to enter the Royal Knight Training Camp after graduation. I need at least C rank for that. I need it, more than anything."
His shoulders shook, his voice turning hoarse. "But talent isn't fair. People like you, Rank 1—everything cos to you. For ? I work ten tis harder, and still… I'm still here. So don't look down on for enduring. Don't call weak because I can't fight them without risking my family."
The outburst hung in the air like a blade.
Michael stared at him, stunned for a mont. Then he slowly exhaled, the weight of Alex's pain sinking into him. This wasn't cowardice. This was endurance, the kind that ca from soone who refused to break, even if the world pressed down on him.
"…You're right," Michael said at last, his voice softer.
"You're not a coward. You've carried this weight far longer than most could. For that… I respect you."
He rose from his chair and stepped forward. With a faint smile, he extended his hand.
"How about it? Be my friend. You don't have to carry this alone anymore."
Alex blinked, his tears still flowing. Then, slowly, he smiled. A fragile, genuine smile. He reached out and clasped Michael's hand firmly.
"Yes… Chief Inspector."
Michael chuckled faintly. "Just Michael."
And at that mont—
Ding.
A familiar chanical tone echoed in Michael's head.
[Host has triggered a Hidden Quest]
[Expose the Corruption of the Arcade Academy]
[Progress: (0/100)%]
[Rewards: 50 Stats, 100k SP, ???]
Michael's mind whirled.
' A hidden quest? From Alex? He wasn't supposed to matter in the ga. Why… Why now?'
His thoughts snapped back as Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um… Michael, could you… let go now?"
Michael blinked and glanced down. He was still gripping Alex's hand tightly. Heat rose to his cheeks as he quickly released it. "…Sorry."
Alex laughed faintly, shaking his head. "It's fine. I… I should get back to class."
Michael nodded. "Go. But rember—you're not alone anymore."
Alex left, the door closing softly behind him.
Michael sank back into his chair, staring at the empty room. His mind buzzed with too many threads—Alex's suffering, the corruption of Instructor Relaon, the hidden quest, the system's interference in the "story."
He clenched his fist.
If the Academy itself is rotting… then I'll dig out every root, no matter how deep.
His eyes drifted toward his watch. For evidence gathering, he'd need help. Soone outside the Academy. Soone who knew how to dig in the shadows.
The answer ca to him imdiately: The Dawn rcenary Guild.
He lifted his watch, dialing a familiar number.
"Ti to call in a favor," he muttered.
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