Falling in Love at the Academy Means Death chapter 79

Falling in Love at the Academy Means Death 79

The roll call had already ended two hours ago. The entrance to the building of dormitory B was closed, and movement of students other than vigil or patrol was prohibited.

A visit to the 3rd floor of the dormitory opened. There was someone who poked his head out a little through the open door. It was Mubar Trigger with a hard face. He looked left and right without speaking.

There was no sign of people in the quiet hallway.

Mubartrigger quietly closed his door. Then I walked slowly down the hallway. At night, a lighted lamp hung on the wall of the hallway of the dormitory. The light cast shadows here and there over his scarred face.

The muted steps led to the jackal’s room. The dagger was in his pocket, and a needle was in his right hand.

I have already tested it on my own door. He carefully inserted the needle into the keyhole and stirred it around. My fingers trembled nervously, but it wasn’t long before the lock unlocked with a click.

“after… .”

A sigh escaped spontaneously. Inserting the needle that had served its purpose into his collar, he carefully took out what he had put in his pocket.

It was a Shiznikan type knife.

It is not suitable for throwing because the weight distribution is not set, but the blade is sharp.

‘The jackal is in here.’

It was something I had been drawing for a long time.

As a child, while Jackal was taking martial arts lessons from a famous swordsman, he himself was given assassination lessons. It was Frodo’s arrangement. And Mubartrigger only learned its meaning after a while.

It meant that in the future, he would use himself as a tool for assassination.

‘I must have never thought that the target of that tool would be myself.’

After clearing his thoughts, his breathing slowed down.

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Now, as soon as you enter, turn right and run into the jackal’s bedroom. His broken arm may not have fully healed yet. So, shut the jackal’s mouth when it is lying down and stab its neck or heart, and that’s it.

And then… .

“What next?”

Surprised, Mubartrigger pulled out a dagger from his pocket and turned around. Yohan, who was sitting on the side of the stairs, looked at the weapon in his hand on the Mubar Trigger and continued.

“Let’s say I opened the door and killed the jackal. What next?”

John’s voice was not loud. But it was a quiet hallway, so the voice could be heard.

“You, how… .”

“Okay?”

That’s because, of course, on the way back from the hospital, I found a guy walking with a knife in his hand with a spleen look on his face.

Facial expressions are another language. After a frustrated human being has captured his sorrow, anger remains. What he was holding explained how that anger would be expressed.

“I’ve seen you carry a knife before.”

Mubartrigger wondered how Yohan, from a different dormitory, was here at this time. But soon, it was found that the armband on his right upper arm made this possible.

“… If you knew, would you think you would condone it?”

“Answer my question first. What’s next?”

“Fuck. what’s next Kill the jackal and you’re done.”

Yohan pondered over a comment that could be eaten by an 18-year-old in this world before saying it.

“Let’s say you killed the jackal. Again, let’s pretend that no one noticed. But you will feel the devil’s gaze from that moment on.”

Yohan watched Mubatrigger’s reaction closely and said.

“You will follow that gaze here and there throughout your life. But you won’t find that demon watching you anywhere in the world. The devil will reside inside you.”

Parables and formulas were not a frequent way of speaking for John. But Yohan hoped that these words would work for that character.

Mubartrigger raised his dagger as if to show off and said.

“no. I will be thrilled.”

John decided to have hope. Showing off the assassination tool, depending on the perspective, could be a protest to stop oneself. A person’s words and actions do not necessarily match the pattern of the heart.

“You are thinking wrong. No matter how wrong the Jackal has done, he will never be happy.”

“Fuck, what do you know… .”

John looked at Mubartrigger with pitying eyes and said.

“Go back, Mubartrigger.”

“you… .”

“I didn’t see anything. so go back Go back, get a glass of cold water, and put the knife deep in the drawer. And lie down.”

Mubartrigger, who had been biting his lip for a while, glared at Yohan and then turned around.

The system log popped up on Yohan.

[The death threat to the main character, ‘Jackal Frodo’ has been resolved.]

The sound of footsteps diminished. I could even hear the door opening and closing. Only then did Yohan get up and brush his cold buttocks.

***

The atmosphere at the faculty meeting was heavy. I couldn’t help it because the subject was the subject. Sent from the Frodo family

Correspondence was like a bomb made of ink.

The good-natured literature teacher was blushing. he asked the dean.

“What kind of kids fights escalate that much?”

“The opponent is the Frodo family. A student named John broke the shoulder of the son of the family.”

“What? The kids fought.”

“It is our role to guide them so that they don’t do that.”

On the literature teacher’s desk lay a letter with Frodo’s seal. The literature teacher had an answer he wanted to hear from the dean, and the dean was in no position to give the answer.

A little rough words came out of the literature teacher who was pouting.

“So, dean, are you willing to accept that crazy request? Didn’t Frodo go crazy while catching the crazy pirates?”

The dean sighed. Emotional teachers are in trouble because of this. At the same time, the dean could think of the former deans who would have been in trouble because of him.

“We have to do as they ask.”

The literature teacher managed to suppress the words, ‘Is the dean going crazy too?’

“So now, are you really putting on a display like that in front of the kids?”

The dean had to say something he really didn’t want to say.

“Not only in front of students, but in front of teachers, maids, and staff.”

“Dean. Do you think that is right?”

There was no way the dean wanted it. However, ideals and reality are not always the same. The dean, who was about to say ‘I’m sorry,’ felt annoyed.

It was an annoyance with himself, having been at the academy for a long time. Every time there was a problem with the power of the power, I had to walk a tightrope.

And few people are familiar with the dean’s difficulties. It’s because he doesn’t speak well.

I was able to put up with the fact that I had to lower my head several times. Rather, what made him upset was the facial expressions the teachers were making now.

Dean, you’re not really going to do that, are you? expect to do. Isn’t the principal like that? belief that

‘He’s helpless.’

The dean had to break the faith.

“Now, I won’t argue with you about right and wrong.”

“If it’s not us, who cares? Is that really what an educator would say?”

The dean was neither authoritarian nor driven by a lust for power. But at this moment, he wished he had authority and power.

The dean’s voice that followed was tinged with fatigue.

“Go and tell the students as it is.”

“Does the dean do it himself?”

“Shit!”

The dean slammed the meeting room table with a ‘bang’. Then he shouted at the literature teacher.

“Why are you making me say the same thing over and over again! Show it to everyone in the academy! The sender of that letter is Frodo. Will the teacher be able to handle that?”

“Is that the name of some emperor?”

“… What?”

“If Frodo told me to kill that student named John, would you say, ‘It can’t be helped’ and kill him?”

The dean thought he saw something familiar in the literature teacher’s appearance. If there was a mirror that reflected his past, the dean would be able to see the character of this literature teacher there. Because there was a time when he was full of blood.

The literature teacher continued.

“Such a dean… .”

The literature teacher, who resembled his old self, threw the dagger this time.

“… Will the academy really need it?”

Exactly, again-

The monocle from the dean’s nose landed on the desk and rolled. After the literature teacher spit it out, I felt sorry for him.

“I just said… .”

It was something that shouldn’t have been said.

For an instant, the meeting hall went silent.

Words spoken cannot be taken back. The eyeglasses that had rolled off the desk arrogantly fell to the floor and shattered. The literature teacher wanted to scream.

“Hey, hey, Dean… .”

The dean looked at the literature teacher with eyes as if he were seeing something frightened. Like a person with something broken inside his body, not his eyeglasses.

He seemed to have aged several years in an instant.

“Do, dissolve.”

“Now, wait a minute.”

The dean quietly left the meeting room. The frozen air in the conference room made it impossible for any teacher to get up.

click.

The conference room door closed again. In the severe silence, Bastia was the first to speak.

“Sir.”

It was the nickname of a literature teacher.

It was given because he wears heavy makeup even though he is a man.

The literature teacher looked at Bastia with a rather blank face. Bastia spoke coldly to him.

“If my weapon is a sword, then your weapon is a language.”

“… By the way?”

“People always have to take good care of their weapons.”

To hear such advice from this man.

The literature teacher put both hands on the desk.

It was dizzy.

He took a few deep breaths as he looked at the sunlight streaming over his desk.

Why is the sunlight so beautiful?

After a while he burst into tears.

It wasn’t that they were called southerners.

***

“What is it?”

A lot of people were already out on the playground. Students and maids, school cooks and teachers, and even security guards. A lot of people came out to the school gate and crowded.

John was anxious.

The dean gathering everyone like this is an event that only happens during [Witch Hunts].

Yohan looked around for the girl on crutches, ignoring Ida, who was frowning. It wasn’t hard to find her in her red performance coat. Miri was a little behind the crowd.

‘But why is his expression like that?’

She was shocked, covering her mouth. The moment John approached and was about to ask why, the screams of children began to burst out one by one around him.

“What, what is that?”

“Kyaaak-!”

John followed the people’s gaze and raised his head a little.

Beyond the crowd, poles were being erected one by one.

For a moment, John thought it was an impromptu outdoor performance. The ones hanging from the poles were people, and they were all wearing the same circus costumes as Miri.

But at the same time, it was too sensational to show to the kids.

‘What?’

Their dangling lower bodies were naked.

And their upper bodies were fixed with nails.

A few children screamed.

“Poetry, isn’t that a corpse?”

“that… Circus troupe, yesterday’s circus troupe!”

It was after the surroundings quickly turned into a mess. Tears welled up in Miri’s eyes. All the people hanging from the pole were faces she knew.

Aspiriger, McGuffin, Furandalos, Rudolme, Kryon… .

The poles rose one by one.

About 10 corpses climbed up against the blue sky.

That wasn’t the end of it.

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Newplast, Zigjakpi, Amarodes, Kuna, Bronny… .

“why… Yike-!”

The poles coming up are not even visible at a glance. Amidst the clamor of shocked children, Miri recalled the face of a person standing out from somewhere. He was like his father.

“Shit… .”

Tears flowed down her cheeks. A man who preferred to be called by his title rather than his name.

Miri said like a sigh.

“leader… .”

She could hardly feel the reality in the faces of the dead members. I couldn’t even look at those faces for long. It was as if two eyes that he couldn’t even close were staring at him.

why are you alive

The conversation I had with the leader sounded like hallucinations. As if the leader’s face, which should be hanging on a pole, was talking to him.

‘You’d rather be… How about living in the mansion of that Johann family? That guy, who knows if he’s Yohan, should’ve twisted it properly and straightened it out a bit.’

Did the leader predict that things might turn out this way?

She lost her crutches and sat down. The red thread that the captain had wrapped around his left wrist was still wrapped around it. The front of my eyes kept getting blurry. Her voice, filled with fear and frustration, fell silently on the floor.

“why… No, how come… .”

Miri guessed why the situation had come to this.

Perhaps one of the members who did not participate in the rebellion, who was quick-witted, snitched. Or maybe it was the betrayal of one of the members involved in the rebellion. Or perhaps, desperately, Frodo had been aware of the whole plan from the very beginning.

Then she realized that the reason didn’t matter.

Because the results have already been built.

Tears fell to the floor.

Like the languid rain that fell during a drought.

Miri said while sweeping over the traces of tears scattered on the floor.

“We have failed… .”

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