Chapter 45: Mystery (2)

“…So, starting today, student Saki Ryozo has been reassigned to our Wolf class. I hope everyone gets along well with her. That’s all I have to announce. Change into your training clothes and gather at the training field in 30 minutes. Dismissed.”

Even as he spoke, Lee Won-bin wore a look of disbelief as he left the classroom.

Immediately, the atmosphere in the room erupted into chaos.

“Is this for real? Saki is joining our class?”

“The bald instructor said so, didn’t he? She requested the reassignment herself. That’s amazing!”

The students, as excited as if they had just met a celebrity, flocked around Saki Ryozo.

And it was no surprise. She was known as one of the prodigies of the “Miracle Generation.” Not only had she achieved first place in written exams, showcasing her brilliant intellect, but she also excelled in martial prowess, perfectly embodying the concept of a “balanced mind and body.”

Moreover, she was the daughter of Saki Kojima, one of the legendary Seven Star Heroes, famously known as the “Absolute Archer.” Not to mention, according to the lore, Saki Kojima wasn’t just the Absolute Archer but also the Prime Minister of Japan.

Unlike Siegfried von Nibelung, who avoided public exposure, Saki Kojima actively used his reputation as one of the Seven Star Heroes to maintain his position as Japan’s leader for 40 consecutive years.

In this world, Japan didn’t have a presidential system, so Saki Kojima was practically a lifetime prime minister, making him comparable to a king.

His approach was markedly different from that of the other Seven Star Heroes, and his influence, both within and outside of Japan, was immense—greater than that of the other three heroes combined.

As Saki Kojima’s daughter, Saki Ryozo’s status was akin to that of a princess.

In a world where real princesses existed, this might not seem significant, but given Japan’s prominence, her position was extraordinary.

It’s worth noting that in the world of Miracle Blessing M, the hierarchies among nations were much more explicit than on Earth.

The most powerful nation was, as in reality, the United States. In second place, proudly, was South Korea. Despite the constant criticism of the Korean game system, I had to admit I appreciated this detail.

Next came Germany, Japan, the United Kingdom, and China. Although Japan ranked fourth, it was still considered a major world power.

And Saki Ryozo was the daughter of that powerful nation.

Thus, even in the Star Class, composed of the elite of elites, many students tried to get closer to her.

Of course, her dazzling appearance was also a major incentive for the male students.

“Saki, is it true you were reassigned to our class?”

“Can we ask why?”

“Hey, move over! Do you think you’re the only one allowed to talk to Saki?”

“Saki, what kind of guys do you like?”

Despite the flood of questions, Saki Ryozo simply licked her lips indifferently, letting the words go in one ear and out the other.

Her eyelids drooped lazily, as if she refused to pay them any attention.

“Haam.”

Suddenly, Saki let out a loud yawn and began walking slowly.

Hundreds of eyes followed her every step. And the reason was obvious—they were all waiting to see where she would sit so they could claim the spot next to her.

It was clear that once she chose a seat, fierce competition for the adjacent spot would ensue. Her decision was the center of everyone’s attention. But then…

She walked toward me, fixing her gaze on me.

For a moment, Saki’s usually lifeless eyes seemed to come alive.

I tried my best to ignore her stare, but a growing sense of unease crept into my chest.

As expected, every gaze in the classroom turned toward Saki and me. Situations like this were nothing new to me.

Finally, Saki stopped by my desk and spoke.

“Is this seat taken?”

“…”

Her voice was calm and composed, but it carried a characteristic laziness. Her hair, tucked neatly behind her ear, reflected a shine as clear as the sky.

She pointed to the seat next to mine, which was where Chloe usually sat.

Although Chloe was absent due to a cold, that was still her seat.

I could accept that Saki had been reassigned to our class, albeit begrudgingly.

After all, with Siegfried as one of the instructors, our class had long since stopped being ordinary.

But for Saki to choose the seat right next to mine was a completely different matter. I couldn’t ignore the fact that she was one of Leon’s heroines.

In other words, Saki Ryozo was someone I needed to keep a certain distance from.

“That’s Chloe’s seat.”

“Oh, is it?”

Without caring about my response, she sat down as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I froze, completely dumbfounded.

“…What?”

“If she’s not here by the time the morning ceremony starts, she’s probably late or not coming. Considering how far the dormitory is, she’s unlikely to show up. Besides, do seats really belong to anyone? The first person to sit down claims it.”

I had no words to counter her.

Her relentless logic left no room for argument. If Chloe were here to witness this, there would undoubtedly be a major uproar.

Whispers filled the room. However, since my confrontation with Siegfried, no one dared to criticize me openly.

I glanced at the remaining students in the classroom, who soon began to disperse to change into their training clothes. Some hesitated to approach Saki but ultimately decided to save it for another time.

With most of the students gone, Saki pulled out a couple of yokans and offered one to me.

“Want one?”

The overly sweet taste of that yokan was still vivid in my memory. I shook my head immediately.

Saki pouted and put one of the yokans away. Then she unwrapped the other and started enjoying it enthusiastically. Her eyes sparkled.

“It’s delicious.”

“…”

The more I got to know her, the more the image I had of her shattered.

I wanted to ask why she had been reassigned, but the morning ceremony was about to begin. I sighed and stood to change into my training clothes.

“Aren’t you going to the training session?”

“I’m an archer, so I prefer training my mind over running outside. Eating something sweet is my way of training.”

Saki raised her index finger as if imparting some profound wisdom. I let out a faint, ironic laugh and headed to the locker room.

“Oh, by the way.”

Saki called out softly.

“Don’t call me Saki. Call me Ryozo.”

“What?”

“Friends call each other by their given names, not their surnames, right?”

“But Speedweapon calls you Saki.”

“Well, he’s different. Anyway, train hard! I’m going to nap.”

Saki ended the conversation, rested her head on the desk, and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

I watched her sleep for a moment, then, with an ironic smile, headed to the locker room.

***

Cheorwon County, Gangwon Province.

In front of the Buffalo Dungeon checkpoint, yellow tape bearing the logo ⌜DO NOT ENTER – AGENT LINE – UNDER INVESTIGATION⌟ was irregularly strung, forming an improvised barrier.

A short distance inside the entrance, agents wearing sunglasses reminiscent of the Wild West were interrogating the checkpoint employee, who sat nervously in a chair at their center.

“⎯So, what did he say before entering the dungeon?”

“W-Well… he said he was worried about the students and had to go in to ensure they were safe.”

The employee, visibly anxious, glanced nervously at the agent as he answered. One of the agents adjusted his sunglasses slightly and, with apparent indifference, began taking notes in his notebook.

“Did you notice anything unusual?”

“…Uh, well, now that I think about it, he was carrying a personal combat weapon. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but his face didn’t look well.”

The checkpoint employee, as if recalling something, began recounting the situation in more detail. The agents jotted down every word, the reflections on their sunglasses gleaming menacingly.

That someone died inside a dungeon wasn’t unusual.

From the outset, entering a place filled with magical beasts meant risking one’s life. Thus, dungeon death investigations were rarely thorough. This time, however, the situation was different.

Due to the constant danger of dungeons, agents assigned to such investigations were graduates of hero academies, though not necessarily Joaquin, the most prestigious academy.

Many came from institutions competing for the second or third place globally and were recruited by the Heroes’ Association, an organization under government jurisdiction.

Graduates of Joaquin, on the other hand, rarely took government jobs due to the low salaries and benefits.

Despite the dangers of dungeons, corpses always remained, serving as evidence.

When a disappearance was reported, agents were sent to confirm and retrieve the bodies.

Shim Doo-Jun, the leader of the investigation team assigned to the Buffalo Dungeon, frowned in discomfort. There were too many loose ends.

When his team entered the dungeon for a preliminary reconnaissance, what they found was shocking, even for veterans like them.

Mountains of buffalo corpses piled high, drenched in blood.

They had heard that students from Joaquin Academy had visited the dungeon, but the aftermath couldn’t possibly be the work of mere students. According to the checkpoint employee, the students had left unscathed…

The bigger issue was the employee who supposedly entered out of concern for the students—his body was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

Moreover, there was no way that man could have crossed the portal. The Buffalo Dungeon gate, one of the most trafficked, had never malfunctioned.

Shim Doo-Jun’s gaze naturally drifted toward the dungeon’s logs.

While they had identified the students’ names, they couldn’t progress further with the investigation.

Joaquin operated under extraterritoriality laws. Even government agents needed a court order to conduct investigations there—a near-impossible task given the influence of the nobles and elites attending the academy.

“I’m going insane.”

Shim Doo-Jun muttered bitterly as a woman approached the checkpoint.

She was unfamiliar, but her uniform betrayed her identity.

“Hello, Agent Shim Doo-Jun. I’m Instructor Kim from Joaquin Academy.”

The woman, with a bright smile, bowed politely as she greeted him.

The unexpected introduction caused Shim Doo-Jun to tilt his head slightly, feeling uneasy.

“I understand you’re conducting an investigation related to our academy.”

“Ah, yes. Well, a few days ago, four Joaquin students visited the dungeon, and since then, a checkpoint employee has disappeared without a trace.”

Though the Heroes’ Association and Joaquin Academy were separate entities, Shim Doo-Jun, almost as if entranced, explained the entire situation without omitting a detail.

“Hmm, I see.”

Instructor Kim’s smile twisted into something sharper.

Suddenly, Shim Doo-Jun felt a wave of unease that sent shivers down his spine.

How did this woman know his name? They hadn’t even introduced themselves. Furthermore, Association investigations were classified.

Not even Joaquin should be aware. So, how did she know all this, and why had she arrived at just the right moment?

As confusion and horror began to show on Shim Doo-Jun’s face, Instructor Kim took out a candy and bit into it nonchalantly.

“So, the only people who know about this situation are the agents, the employee, and you, Agent Shim Doo-Jun?”

“…!”

Involuntarily, Shim Doo-Jun nodded. It wasn’t of his own free will.

“I see. Well, I’m sure your superiors are aware, but that’s not my concern.”

Instructor Kim smiled and snapped her fingers elegantly.

“Mmm! Mmm!”

Immediately, Shim Doo-Jun, his team, and the employee were immobilized, muffled sounds escaping their sealed mouths.

In his mind, Shim Doo-Jun realized what he was facing—an overwhelming force reducing him to a mere spectator in his final moments.

The Heroes’ Association referred to people like this woman as “half-human, half-demon.” But the term most commonly used by the public was far simpler: “Villains.”

Instructor Kim walked toward the dungeon entrance without looking back. She snapped her fingers once more.

Whoosh—

A violet flame erupted, engulfing the men like a tidal wave.

They couldn’t even scream as the infernal fire consumed them, its reflection burning in their eyes. That was Shim Doo-Jun’s final memory.

Minutes later, the charred remains of the bodies began to crumble.

Only then did Instructor Kim glance back slightly, wearing a twisted smile.

“It’s good to be dedicated to your work, but you should be more cautious.”

With those words, she began humming cheerfully as she entered the dungeon, her earrings shimmering with a sinister glow.