The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master — Chapter 355: Nightmare (2)

Chapter 355: Nightmare (2)

I repeated to myself.‍

This is a dream.⁠‍

I used to have⁠⁠⁠ dreams like this⁠ often.

Today,‍ however, it feels‌‍ like someone carefully‌‍ flipped open a hidden page from⁠‍ my past.

I guess it’s because⁠ of what happened.‍‍‍ Maybe my exhausted‌ body dragged my‍ mind to its⁠ limit as well.⁠

Smack!‍⁠‍

A hand the size⁠ of a pot‍ lid slapped my‌⁠‌ face, turning my head. My mouth‍‍ tasted like iron.‌‍ The inside of⁠‌‍ my cheek had‍ burst.

“Geom-Ma?⁠⁠‌ This bastard lost⁠ it? What, you‍⁠‌ dreaming or something?”‌

My‌ dull gaze drifted‌ to the window. Outside, rain fell endlessly.

Rumble.⁠‍⁠

No‌‍ lightning struck. Just‍‍ the distant rumble‍ behind the black⁠‍ clouds.

My⁠ master always told‌ me—

“Everyone⁠‌ carries a seed‍ of good and⁠‌ evil in their‍⁠ chest. Love is‌⁠ the fertilizer of⁠ good, abuse is‍⁠ the fertilizer of⁠ evil.”

Smack!‌‌⁠

It‍‌‍ doesn’t matter.

Even⁠‍⁠ if it hurts.‌‍⁠

Even‌‌ if this house⁠ feels as real‌ as ever.

This‌ is a dream.⁠ That’s how I used to endure‌‌ it as a child—hypnotizing myself like‌‍ that.

“…I‌⁠ have…”

A family that loves⁠ me.

Smack!⁠

I’m⁠‍ not giving up.⁠

***⁠

“Y-You…!‍ You little bastard!‍ Did you just‌⁠ hit your father?!”‌⁠

I ran away from‌‍ home.

“Don’t‌ stop him, honey!‌ It’s fine! Today,⁠‌ it’s either him⁠‍ or me!”

His‌‌⁠ voice stabbed into‍ my back like‌ a thorn. I ran from those⁠ disgusting people, pushing‌‌ through the rain‍‌‌ and wind.

“Damn‍ it.”

I tried to curse,‌‍ but rainwater entered‍ my mouth. The‍‍ tears of the‌⁠ sky didn’t taste‍ salty. They left a bitter, metallic‍ taste.

‘This⁠‍ dream is especially⁠ cruel.’

Afraid‍‍ he’d beat me‌ to death, I had kneed him straight in the‍ groin.

Unfortunately,‌ this was a dream. I didn’t⁠ have my sashimi⁠‌ knife, nor the‌‌ strength to stab.⁠ Judging by the‍ size of my‌ hands and feet,‍⁠⁠ I was just⁠‌ about the right age to have‍ started middle school.⁠

There⁠ weren’t many scars⁠ on my forearms‌⁠ yet either, so‌ it must’ve been around then.

“Haah, haah…”

I slipped into an⁠‍‍ alley. Thanks to‍⁠ a hanging green‌‌ awning, I managed‍ to take cover‍‍ from the rain⁠‍⁠ for a moment.‌

Water‌‌ from the pipes was spilling into‍ a clogged drainage⁠‌ grate.

As‍‍ I stared at⁠‌ it blankly, a dry laugh escaped‍‍ me.

“…This‍‍‌ is complete shit.”⁠

A pathetic sight like‍⁠ something out of‍ a painting. Sadly,⁠⁠ this was what‍‍ my stained past‌ really looked like.‌ A typical portrait‍⁠⁠ of a family‌⁠⁠ surviving in the‍ shadows.

‘That⁠⁠ was me.’

Leaning‌‌‌ against the wall,‌⁠‌ I let my‌ head fall back.⁠‍ The chill of‌‍⁠ the bricks helped‍ cool my brain.⁠

“How⁠ long am I going to keep‍‍⁠ dreaming about this?”‌

When I murmured, vapor‌ came from my⁠‌‍ breath.

Adding‍‍‌ this life to‌⁠ the last, more⁠ than forty years‍‍ must’ve passed since⁠ that time.

And‍ yet, it rears⁠ its head out‍ of nowhere, shattering‍ all peace of‌‌ body and soul.‌

I found it ironic.‍⁠‍

Having become the God⁠ of the Sword, and dreaming—not of‍ anything else—but of‍ this nightmare.

Come⁠‌ to think of‍ it, I hadn’t‌ dreamed in years.‌⁠ Suddenly, something Yu⁠ Sein once said‌ came to mind.⁠

“Those⁠ under the influence‌‍‍ of Suppression rarely⁠‍ dream.”

So⁠‌ this was, without‌ a doubt, an‍ abnormal phenomenon. And it didn’t take⁠‌ long to find‌ the reason.

It⁠‍ must be the‌‍ aftermath of having split the Apostle⁠ of Suppression, Ragnarok,‌‍ in two, just⁠⁠ two days ago.‍⁠‌

I really was starting‍‍ to resemble a proper possessed.

“Ugh…”

I stood up, staggering.‌‍‌ Every time I had nightmares like‌ this, there was‍‍‍ a place I always went.

Not‍ the seafood place⁠‌⁠ from the boss.‍

As‍‌‌ far as I remembered, the current⁠‍ boss hadn’t taken‍ it over yet.‌

That wouldn’t happen until‍ early next year.‌

“If‍‌⁠ I go now,⁠ some total stranger‌ will probably throw⁠ me out after⁠ humiliating me.”

I began to walk.‌

Limping.‌ Limping.

I don’t know how⁠ far I walked.⁠⁠

A bronze sign greeted‍ me.

Five‌‍ characters in a formal font that⁠‍ rumbled in my chest.

Garam‌ Middle School

The‌ place I used‌ to attend. Though⁠‌ technically, I dropped‌ out in my⁠ second year.

Hey,‌⁠ don’t get it‌ twisted.

It⁠ wasn’t because of⁠ “some incurable illness,”⁠ never.

I walked inside for‌‌‍ the first time‌ in years.

Splash.⁠‍ Splash.

I crossed the muddy⁠⁠‍ schoolyard, soaked by‍‌ rain, heading straight⁠‌ for the main building. It was‌ a holiday—no one‌‍ in sight.

“Compared⁠‌ to Joaquin Academy…⁠⁠⁠ this is like‍⁠ another world.”

They‌ say home and‌ school reflect society.‌⁠ And it’s true.‍

A child rejected at⁠‌‍ home will also⁠⁠⁠ be rejected at⁠⁠ school. Teachers were‌ quick to say,‌ “Go fetch your‌‌ parents.”

But‌⁠ in my case,‌ the problem ran‍ deeper. I couldn’t even use “Mr.”‌ or “Mrs.” before‍⁠‌ the word “parent.”‍‍

To make things worse,‍‍ my family situation‌ became gossip among‍‌ the teachers. Wealthy‍‌ gangsters, degrading night‌ work.

It‌⁠‌ was a miracle‌ worse rumors didn’t‌ spread. So even‌ when I wasn’t⁠ at fault in‍‌ certain incidents, I was always blamed.⁠

Because⁠ there was no‌ one to speak⁠ for me. That’s⁠‍ how one after⁠ another, people treated⁠⁠‍ me however they‌‌‌ wanted.

At‌ first, I endured⁠‍ it.

But‍ I didn’t last‌ more than three‌‍‍ times.

I decided to show‍⁠ them exactly what‍‍ they expected from me. That is, to return the‍ favor in kind.‌ And don’t get⁠ this wrong either—‍

I didn’t know how‍‍ to use knives‌ back then. I was small and‌ scrawny, so I got by with nothing but clever tricks.

“You…‍‌ you! How dare‌ you hit my⁠ son!”

“I’m‌ sorry! Forgive me!⁠‍⁠ Ah, Kim ■■!‌‍ What are you⁠ doing?! Apologize now!”‌‍

‘Hah,⁠‌‌ so you’re that⁠ kid? The brat’s‍⁠ a damn thug‍‌ and the mom sells herself. Mr.⁠‌ Heo, is Garam⁠ a school or‍ an orphanage? Why‌ do you accept⁠⁠ this trash, huh?‍ Even if Anam’s⁠‍ not the fanciest‍ district, a school‍ should have some⁠ standards, some dignity…!’‍

I was able to endure Joaquin Academy only because I had already built‍‍‌ up my calluses.

In⁠⁠⁠ any case, I ended up punching‌ that father in‍⁠ the mouth and‍‍⁠ left school on my own.

Before‌ the expulsion letter⁠‌ arrived, I beat‌‌ them to it⁠ and submitted my‌⁠ resignation.

The⁠ school board accepted‌ it like they’d⁠‍⁠ been waiting for‍ it.

Yeah.⁠ I was that⁠ student—the one the‍‌ school desperately wanted⁠⁠ to get rid of.

And‌ in this dream,⁠‍⁠ I’d walked right‌‍ back into that⁠ same school of‌ my own will.‍‍ Looking back now,⁠ it wasn’t some⁠ cheesy “we were⁠ kids, we didn’t‍ know better, haha”‌ kind of thing.‌‍

No.‌⁠‍ If I lived‍ through it again,‌‍ I’d shove a sashimi knife in⁠⁠‍ their necks.

“…That‍‍ place changed me‌⁠ a lot…”

The‍⁠ reason why the‍⁠ concept of “school”⁠ became an emotional refuge to me‍ was undoubtedly thanks⁠‌ to Joaquin Academy.‌‌

My⁠ house.

My‍ home.

Where⁠ my family is.⁠‍⁠

And‍ since Garam was‌ the closest in⁠ style to Joaquin, I always end‌ up coming here‌⁠ in these nightmares.⁠‍

Creaaak—

I opened an old⁠‍ door and entered.‍‍⁠ Inside, it looked‍ no different from‌‌ any ordinary school.‍‍

There⁠‌ were half-decent nameplates‌ arranged, and just‌ ahead of the⁠‍ main entrance, stairs‌ led to the⁠‍⁠ second floor.

“…You.”‌‌

“……”‍‌

Why⁠ are you standing‍ there?

“So‍‌⁠ this is your‍ hell.”

Chaerina‍⁠ spoke as she⁠ looked around.

“…This‌ your doing?”

“No.”⁠

She‌⁠ answered firmly.

“Just‍ as you’re Fenrir,⁠⁠ my attribute is⁠ Hela. From the‍⁠ moment we acknowledged‍ Suppression, we’ve been‍‍‍ tied by a bond.”

“…”⁠

“If‌‍‍ you’re in hell,⁠ is it really‍ so strange that‌‍ I’m here?”

She‍ descended the stairs,⁠ one step at a time. Her‍‌ jet-black hair flowed‍‍⁠ with a sheen.‍‍

“You’re⁠ what’s strange. That’s‍⁠ why all of⁠ this is strange.”⁠

“Ugh,⁠‍‌ harsh.”

“…At‍ least moisten your‍‌ lips before spitting‌ venom.”

“Was‍ that a come-on?”‍

I frowned and stepped‌⁠ back. Chaerina came⁠‌‍ right up to⁠ my nose.

She‍ was only slightly⁠‌⁠ taller than me,‌ in this dream⁠ where I was‍⁠⁠ a first-year middle‌⁠ schooler.

“If⁠‍ you know how⁠‍⁠ to get in,⁠‌ you must know‌ how to get‍⁠ out too. So let me out.‌ I’ve had enough.”‍‍‍

“I‌ don’t know.”

“I‌ hate liars. If‍ I stab you⁠ with a sashimi⁠‌ knife when I wake up for⁠‍ lying, don’t complain.”‌

“Threats⁠‌ won’t work. Because‍‍ I really don’t‍‌ know.”

“…”⁠‌

“…”⁠

Silence.‍‍⁠

As‍ I stared into‍⁠ her eyes for‍ a while, it⁠‌‍ became clear that‍⁠ Chaerina wasn’t bluffing.⁠⁠

“…So‍ this is one‌‌ of those things⁠‌ too, right? If‍ I overcome the‍⁠ trauma, I’m free…”‌

“Who‍⁠ knows. Maybe yes,⁠ maybe no.”

“Shame‌⁠ I don’t have‌ a sashimi knife⁠ right now.”

“Not‍⁠ everything can be⁠⁠ fixed with knives.”‍⁠

Chaerina⁠‍ turned around. With‍⁠ her hands folded⁠‍‍ behind her back,‍‌ she started walking‍ ahead of me, then tilted her‍‌ head slightly.

“Let’s⁠ walk a bit.”

“…”‌

I hate these kinds‍ of setups.

Tap,‌‍ tap.

We‍‍ went up the⁠‌‍ stairs and walked‌ down a straight‍‌ hallway.

The‌ classrooms were labeled‍ from 1 to⁠‍ 4. Unlike Joaquin‍‍‍ Academy, which was‍ divided into only‍ four classes Tiger,‌ Wolf, Dragon, and‍⁠ Star (the last⁠⁠‍ one had been⁠‍‌ gone for a while now).

“See⁠ anything strange?”

Chaerina⁠‌ asked.

“…Not‌‌ really…”

Now‌⁠‍ that I think⁠ about it, each‌ classroom had a window right at eye level. Normally,⁠ windows are closer⁠‌ to the ceiling,⁠‍ but here, they⁠ were unusually low.‌

Noticing⁠‍‍ me staring, Chaerina⁠‍ resumed walking. I followed behind, dragging⁠⁠ my feet. My⁠ eyes remained fixed⁠‍ on the windows.‌

[1-1]‌

My‌ pupils widened.

“…..!”‌

Inside⁠ the classroom, where⁠‍‍ desks should’ve been lined up, red⁠ smoke was rising.

It⁠‍ wasn’t moving—it was‌⁠ completely still. Like⁠⁠ a three-dimensional reenactment of an ancient‍ life scene displayed‍‍ in a museum.⁠⁠

“That’s Joaquin Academy.”

Chaerina‌‍ said it casually‌ and kept walking.‍‌

[1-2]⁠‌⁠

The⁠ disaster continued like⁠ a series. Ryozo‌‌ and Abel, their‍‍ faces smudged with‌⁠ soot, were evacuating people.

[1-3]⁠‍

Abel‌ lay with her‌‍‍ head on Ryozo’s⁠‌ lap. Her eyes‌ were closed, and⁠‍ her lips were‍ so pale they looked bluish.

Ryozo,‍⁠ gently touching her eyelids, tried to‌‍‍ hold back tears⁠ with a pained⁠‌‌ expression.

Tap.‌‍

When‍‌‌ I reached out,‌⁠ Chaerina stopped me.‍

“Fenrir,‌‌‌ are you even‌ human?”

“…”⁠⁠

“You’re‌‍ a god. The‌‍ impact of a single move from⁠ you could cause⁠ a butterfly kill.⁠⁠‌ No one can‌ predict the outcome.”

Grrk.‍

I clenched my teeth⁠‍ hard.

[1-4]‌‌

Only‍ Ryozo was visible.⁠‌ She was fighting‍ alongside her companions‌‌⁠ and the former‌‌ Seven Stars.

The red filter over‌‌ the scene grew‍ even more intense.‍

[1-5]‍

Behind‌‌ Speedweapon, you could⁠‍‌ see the battlefield‌‌ stretching beyond his‍ back.

Even‍‌⁠ in her final‍ breath, she continued‌‍ casting buffs on‌ her allies.

Even‍⁠‌ in death… still.‌⁠

[1-6]‍

Rachel⁠‌‌ de Mura had‌⁠‌ fallen. Her body, barely held up‌‌ by her war⁠⁠⁠ spear, finally collapsed.⁠⁠

[1-7]‍

Leon‍ van Reinhardt had⁠ also fallen.

Metatron, wings torn, held⁠⁠ him and roared.‍‍

[1-8]‌

All⁠⁠ the heroes of‍ the Seven Stars‍ were dead.

[1-9]‌‍‍

The‍ Hero Agency and‍‌⁠ the Association had⁠⁠ been annihilated.

[1-10]‍

In the end, even‍ the demons joined‍ the conflict in‌ an unprecedented event.‍‌

But⁠⁠⁠ far from turning⁠ the tide of⁠ war, Gehenna’s combat‌‌ forces were wiped⁠ out.

Including‌ the dragon race.⁠⁠

“Kuh!”⁠‌

I couldn’t breathe. The‍ deeper I sank,⁠ the more intense⁠‍‍ the red filter⁠‍‍ covering the world became.

But⁠⁠‍ I knew. It‍ was just that‌ my eyes were‌ bloodshot.

At‍‍ some point, Chaerina‍ had started walking‍‌ beside me.

She didn’t show pity⁠‌ on her face.‍⁠

I didn’t want it‍⁠ either. If she‌‍ had shown even⁠⁠ a hint of‌‍ cheap pity, I’d⁠⁠⁠ probably have yelled‍‌ at her on‌ the spot.

I stopped.

As‌ I walked along‌⁠‌ the wall, I couldn’t help but‍ falter. I barely raised my eyes.‌

[1-11]‍

It‌‌⁠ was the end.‌

And because it was⁠ the last, the⁠ impact wasn’t so‌‌ strong anymore.

It⁠⁠ was just the‌ culmination of all‍‍ the previous damage.‍ I was about‌ to burst.

With‌ bloodied lips, I said,

“…This⁠‍⁠ is a clue.”‍

“Yes.”⁠‍‌

“I‍‌ need to understand‍ it if I want to get‍‌ out of here.”‌

Chaerina⁠ tilted her head‍‌⁠ slightly.

“…Even⁠ if you don’t⁠‌ escape, you have‌ to face it…”‍

“Yeah…‍ In the end,‍‌ all of this‍⁠ is the result⁠ of my choices.‌ I can’t look⁠‍⁠ away…”

I slid along the‍ wall and moved‍ forward. I opened‍‌ my tightly shut⁠⁠‍ eyes and looked⁠ through the window.⁠

There‌‍ were Ryozo and‍‌ Choi Seol-Ah. Both‍‍ were crying. But⁠ one of them shed tears of‍‍ blood.

“Ryo…‍ zo…”

Did‌‍ my voice reach‌‍ her? Beyond the glass, Ryozo barely opened one eye.⁠ And as she⁠ looked at me,‌‍ she mouthed.

“Sa…‌‍ ve…”

And‌⁠‌ with that single⁠‍‍ word, her eyelids‍‍ closed. My body‍‌ leaned forward.

Chaerina‍ stopped me just⁠ before I broke‌‍ through the glass.⁠‌

“At‍‌ first, I also‌‍‍ thought I had‍‌⁠ to adapt to⁠‌⁠ the Suppression. That‍ the end was‍‍ inevitable, and that⁠ this world was fated to end.”‌⁠‍

“…”‍⁠

“But‍‍ then, that snake⁠ playing saint told‌ me. Fenrir… no,⁠‍ Kang Geom-Ma… you⁠‌‍ are the singularity‌‌‌ of all the timelines in this‌‍ world. And after‍⁠‍ what happened, I’ve‌ decided to acknowledge⁠‌ you. Thanks to‍⁠‌ you, this world⁠‌ can have a happy ending without‌ breaking its coherence.‌⁠ Not a hell‍‌ worse than this‌ one.”

Chaerina⁠ whispered.

“You⁠⁠ just have to‍‍‌ accept the evil‌ inside you.”

Ding,⁠ dong, dang.

The‍ school bell rang.⁠

Crack.⁠

A black sprout broke⁠⁠‍ through the soil‍ of my mind.‌‍ And then, it⁠‌ bloomed in my‌‍ chest.