Chapter 119: I Found the Misfit Class I’m Destined to Rule
"There’s soone you need to et. An old friend, Braxton Miller. He’s a professor at NVA now. Good man to have in your corner."
As we moved away from the center of the gala, the cacophony of polite laughter and clinking glasses faded. Luka led
down a quieter, less-trafficked wing of the building, past portraits of legendary Hunters whose painted eyes seed to follow our movent with stern disapproval.
"Who exactly is Professor Miller?" I asked, filing away the na for future reference.
"Braz? He’s... complicated," Luka chuckled. "A-Rank Hunter. Reserve status now that he’s teaching. Was a real wild card back in the day. I showed him the ropes when he was a rookie. He doesn’t play by the rules, but he gets results."
Luka stopped before a heavy oak door with a small brass plaque: "Authorized Personnel Only." He pushed it open without knocking.
The room was a stark contrast to the gleaming, modern atrium we’d left behind. Dark wood paneling, worn leather armchairs, shelves lined with actual paper books. The air hung thick with the sll of expensive liquor and lingering tobacco. Two figures occupied a corner, sharing what looked like a bottle of high-end whiskey and laughing at so private joke.
The man slouched in his chair like a king who couldn’t be bothered with proper posture. Thirties, tall, with the lanky build of soone who lived on caffeine and spite. His instructor’s uniform was rumpled beyond salvation, tie hanging loose, top buttons undone. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips, apparently more habit than intention. Despite his lazy posture, his body held the coiled readiness of a predator resting but never truly off guard.
The woman beside him presented an entirely different picture. She had curves that her faculty uniform—creatively worn with several buttons undone—struggled to contain. Her jet-black hair cascaded past her shoulders in silky waves, and her striking purple eyes sparkled with mischief. She laughed freely at sothing the man had said, holding her drink with casual grace.
She leaned into his space when she spoke. His eyes softened when they landed on her. Taken, my mind supplied. And not worth the trouble.
"Braz! You old bastard!" Luka bood. "Still corrupting the youth, I see!"
The man didn’t even open his eyes. "Only the ones worth corrupting, Luka. The rest are a lost cause." He took a lazy pull on his unlit cigarette. "Who’s the kid?"
"This is my son, Satori. He’s a prospect for the new class." Luka bead, his voice swelling with pride. "Satori, this is Professor Braxton Miller, Horoom Instructor for Class 1-E, and Professor Hanae Mori, Class 1-B."
"Luka’s son!" The woman—Hanae—smiled warmly at . "It’s so nice to finally et you. We’ve heard... stories."
"Hopefully good things," I replied.
"Well..." Hanae trailed off.
"Have a seat," Braxton motioned to the empty chairs. "Luka looks like he needs another drink anyway."
Luka laughed and helped himself to their whiskey bottle. "Don’t mind if I do."
"So," Hanae leaned forward, giving
an unintentional view, "late manifestation, right? That’s what the alert system told us when your na ca through the faculty database."
"Yes, ma’am," I nodded. "About a month ago."
"Thermal Incision," Braxton recited without opening his eyes. "C-Rank with A-Rank potential. Unusual developnt pattern. High control trics." He cracked one eye open to look at . "You been training for it your whole life or just got lucky?"
"Neither," I t his gaze steadily. "Just... determined."
Luka, now several drinks in and feeling particularly jovial, laughed loudly and slapped my shoulder again. "Determined! That’s one way to put it." He turned to Braxton. "I’m telling you, Braz, it’s like a different kid. Six months ago... ha! Six months ago, he couldn’t even walk up a flight of stairs without wheezing. Spent all his ti in his room, playing video gas, getting fat. Barely said two words at dinner."
He gestured at
with his glass. "Now look at him! Lost the weight, found a backbone. Manifested an Aspect out of nowhere. It’s a damn miracle."
Hanae’s smile tightened at the edges. She glanced at , her eyes softening with a pity that was almost worse than the mockery. But Braxton... his eyes opened fully now. He sat up slightly, studying
with sharp intensity.
"So," Braxton set down his glass, "the entrance exam is in a week. You ready for the at grinder, kid? NVA isn’t a place for miracles."
"I’m aware of the academy’s reputation, Professor," I replied calmly. "I’m prepared to et its standards."
"Standards?" Braxton snorted. "You’ll be going up against legacy kids like Valerius who have been training since they could walk. You’re starting a hundred miles behind the finish line. What makes you think you can even compete?"
I t his gaze without blinking. "Because they’ve been training to win a race. I’ve been training to survive a war. There’s a difference."
The line hung in the air. Luka looked confused, as if trying to parse what I ant and where his son had learned to talk like that. Hanae’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, her glass pausing halfway to her lips.
But Braxton... Braxton leaned forward slightly, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across his face. He’d found sothing interesting.
"That’s so heavy talk from a fresh manifestation," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Care to elaborate?"
"Not particularly," I replied with a slight smile.
"Aw, co on," Hanae joined in. "You can’t just drop a line like that and leave us hanging."
Before I could respond, Kimiko appeared at the doorway. Her eyes swept the room, taking in the scene with that quiet, analytical gaze that always made
wonder how much she truly saw. Her presence instantly sobered Luka, who straightened in his chair like a schoolboy caught passing notes.
"Luka," she said softly. "We should make our rounds. The Miyamotos have been asking for you."
"Right, right!" Luka stood, suddenly all business. "Duty calls! Good seeing you two. Take care of my boy when he gets to the academy, you hear?"
"We’ll do our best, Luka-san," Hanae smiled, giving a small bow of her head. "It was a pleasure, Satori-kun."
I rose to follow my parents, but Braxton’s voice stopped .
"Hey, Satori."
I turned back. Braxton gestured with his glass, a lazy wave that sohow held my attention more effectively than a shout.
"My class, the Onyx Hounds?" he said. "We haven’t placed higher than fourth in the Guild Gas since I started teaching. The administration sees us as the dumping ground for problem cases and statistical anomalies." He took a slow sip of his whiskey, his eyes locked on mine. "I have a feeling you’re going to be a very interesting statistical anomaly."
"I’ll try not to disappoint, Professor."
As I turned to leave, I heard Hanae’s hushed voice: "What was that about? You never take an interest in the new kids."
"Most new kids don’t have eyes like that," Braxton replied, just loud enough for
to catch.
"Like what?"
"Like he’s already killed and is wondering if he’ll need to do it again."
"Did you have a nice chat with Braxton and Hanae?" Kimiko asked as we moved back into the main atrium.
"They seem... interesting," I replied carefully.
"They’re not exactly what the VHC considers ideal faculty role models," Kimiko’s tone was diplomatic. "But students love them. Especially Braxton’s class."
"What’s the deal with the Onyx Hounds?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Professor Miller ntioned them."
"Class 1-E," Luka chid in. "Traditionally where they put the problem children and odd cases that don’t fit anywhere else. Braz turned it into sothing of a badge of honor. The underdogs. They always place last in the rankings, but they’ve got this crazy loyalty to each other."
"Sounds like a bunch of losers."
A class of misfits, led by a teacher who saw through facades and valued survival instinct. A teacher who might look the other way for a student who didn’t play by the rules.
Potentially useful.
"Speaking of problems," Kimiko said quietly, nodding across the room, "the young man you were speaking with earlier is heading this way. And he doesn’t look happy."
I followed her gaze to see Julian Valerius cutting through the crowd toward us. His friends trailed behind him like a royal entourage.
"You two go ahead," I said to Kimiko and Luka. "I can handle this."
Kimiko looked concerned, but Luka grinned. "That’s my boy. Just don’t start a fight in the middle of the Gala, alright? Bad form."
As they moved away, I turned to face Julian, arranging my features into an expression of mild surprise, as if I hadn’t expected him to seek
out.
"Valerius-san," I greeted him with a small nod. "Co back for another round?"
Julian’s smile was tight. "Actually, I ca to apologize for my rudeness earlier. It was... unbecoming of my station."
My Liar’s Brooch ward against my chest. A lie, and not even a good one. Behind the forced smile, his eyes burned with resentnt.
Perfect. The fish was taking the bait.
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