Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

23 – Group Applications

Early Morning

As always, I rouse myself at the appointed hour.

Since I cannot create each and every fiber of my muscles to build them,

I decided to begin with morning exercises.

Locked away in this room, even the muscles I had have shriveled up.

And from all my prior experiences,

I am not particularly blessed with stamina.

And so, sweating profusely, I exercise.

The sound of Ella stirring woke me.

She emerged from her room, realizing she’d risen later than me,

and couldn’t quite conceal her apologetic air.

Knowing she’d only fret all day if left to her own thoughts,

I hastened to reassure her it was fine and departed, as I always did.

The everyday, the routine, felt different somehow.

From the Academy’s inner corridors to the path bisecting them,

there wasn’t a quiet corner to be found.

It was an astonishing sight, considering the place usually radiated aristocratic composure.

Everyone was gathered in groups of three or five, deep in conversation,

and the topic was largely the same.

“You, join my team…”

“I’m thinking of joining your team…”

“Let’s form a team together…”

At the Academy, the midterm assessments required everyone’s participation,

evaluated separately by year.

Once the professor announced the assessment topic,

the students prepared accordingly,

and as collaboration was permitted, team formation was common.

Thus, a competition to secure talented individuals for one’s own team

had already commenced.

Of course, no one approached me.

Some had recognized my strength from the previous sparring match,

while others still believed it to be sheer luck.

And regardless, did I, lacking the backing of a noble house,

possess strength sufficient to disregard the Academy’s established order?

No student seemed to think so.

Therefore, not a single student attempted to recruit me,

and honestly, I was more accustomed to working alone than with mediocre teammates,

so I didn’t mind.

Lost in these thoughts, pondering how to tackle the midterm assessment solo,

the front door creaked open,

and Oliver, the professor from Class 1-B, entered.

“Why is the professor in our class?”

“Ah, well, your assigned professor is unable to attend

due to personal matters.”

“So, I’ll be handling the announcement for today’s midterm assessment,

and another professor will be here from next time onward.”

The professor changed?

Not a bad thing, I suppose; he only ever yelled, so he wasn’t missed.

“Anyway, cutting to the chase, I’ll announce the midterm evaluation topic.”

“F…Finally!”

“I heard last year’s seniors had a mock battle as their theme?”

“They say the year before that, it was a gate clear.”

“P…Please, something easy…”

Everyone began to focus on Professor Olliver’s words.

And then, Professor Olliver slowly, as if deliberately drawing it out, opened his mouth.

“This midterm evaluation’s topic is ‘Survival’.”

Survival?

Where? How? From what?

From a topic that stirred so many thoughts,

everyone was filled with questions, and Olliver continued his explanation.

“The Academy possesses an island.”

“For this midterm, you must survive there for as long as possible.”

“Of course, the island is inhabited by magical beasts, and various poisonous plants exist.”

“Your evaluation will depend on how long you can survive in that environment.”

“The professors will be observing, so you don’t need to worry about safety, and

fighting between students is not prohibited.”

Finishing with something like, ‘That’s about it,’ Professor Olliver opened the floor to questions, and

as if they had been waiting, the students raised their hands.

“Are there any forbidden acts?”

“None. Just survive, however you see fit.”

“Are there any actions that will lower our evaluation?”

“Attacking your designated teammates, or

attacks with the intent to kill a student, will be sanctioned.”

“How will we know the survival status of the other students?”

“At the start, you will each be given a watch. It will display

the current number of surviving students.”

And so, various questions passed through Professor Olliver, and

he answered them instantly, as if reading from a script.

Some students listened to these exchanges and pondered deeply,

while others seemed smug, as if anything would be easy for them.

And some could be seen attempting to contact someone.

Observing the students’ reactions, Professor Olliver then

scratched his head and spoke of remaining details.

“Ah, and team applications are due in one week, so

try to finish gathering your members by then.”

With those words, Professor Olliver opened the front door

through which he had entered, and quickly disappeared once more.

Team applications in one week, huh…

If it was this much time, maybe just one person

could be made into a team member.

No matter who, it would be difficult, even for me, to

evade everyone and still earn excellent grades among all these cadets.

If there was even one team member, the burden

on me would decrease accordingly, wouldn’t it?

With a week’s time,

somehow or other, I should be able to convince at least one person.

Soon, Jenison was considering

just who would be suitable as a team member.

*

Honestly, I underestimated it.

I thought I could just do it roughly and still manage to find one team member.

I didn’t particularly care, because I thought someone would

be salvaged even from among those attempting the evaluation alone.

But there was something I overlooked.

In noble society, reputation is directly connected to one’s family, and

no one would team up with a commoner whose honor had already fallen as far as it could.

Soon, I, a commoner,

began to seek someone to team up with me,

and with truly great difficulty, I was able to find one person.

Lianna.

The girl who promised to provide support

in exchange for being bullied by me at the academy.

Though I had come from a fallen family, so

there was nothing more to gain,

she seemed to regard my proposal as a favor,

she accepted my proposal more easily than I expected.

When I asked if there was a reason she accepted so easily,

“W-well… I’m just sorry…”

“About what?”

“About… not stopping the rumors spreading in the academy…

and… not stopping people after you left your family…”

She was worrying about that.

She was a more tenderhearted child than I thought.

I could endure the cadets’ bullying well enough, and

there was no way to stop rumors from spreading with personal power alone.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

“Uuh… R-really?”

“Indeed. There were times I tormented you, weren’t there.”

“Y…yes! But it wasn’t that bad…and you sometimes helped me.”

That I helped her was the truth.

The methods of torment I employed were mere insults and mockery, but

the harassment of my former followers was quite vicious.

They would snatch her uniform or soil it,

and insult her openly in front of others, making sure she heard.

Each time, guilt seeped into me, and I

began to help her, surreptitiously.

If I noticed her uniform was missing, I’d

secretly buy a new one and return it.

Or, I’d defuse situations when others attempted to publicly humiliate her,

by shifting the mood, things like that.

Regardless, for me, the one who made the initial offer, to do such things felt

hypocritical, so

I tried not to make it obvious, but

I hadn’t expected her to notice.

Is that why she accepted my proposition?

Whatever the reason, having an insightful partner wouldn’t be bad, so

I accepted her into my group.

However, the other cadets didn’t seem to grasp the situation.

Seeing us together, they began to whisper that

I had started tormenting her again, or that

Jenison was parading a female cadet around, and so on.

Of course, Lianna tried to refute the rumors, but

the cadets, pitying her, said I must have some sort of hold over her,

and they glared at me even more intensely.

Ignoring their gazes, I entered the student council room with her, to register our team.

The first thing I saw upon entering was the other student council members.

Each of them clutched a stack of documents, which seemed to be their share of work,

and their eyes were ringed with dark circles.

They regarded me with those eyes, acting as if they’d seen something they shouldn’t,

which was a little unsettling, but the apparent vice-president asked our business,

and I finally gathered my wits and told him.

“What brings you here, you rascal of a young master.”

“I’ve come to form a team with my partner.”

“…Partner? Someone actually joined your team?”

“Indeed. Right here.”

I introduced her to him, and almost at once, a knowing look crossed his face as he attempted conversation.

“Look here, I don’t know what leverage you’ve got, but

if I were you, we could just…”

“I find that rather offensive, Mr. Vice President.”

What was he saying to my party member?

Someone I’d legitimately, painstakingly recruited – a valuable asset – and he has the nerve!

He seemed annoyed that I cut him off,

His face twisting into an unpleasant mask as he continued,

“..Party applications are handled exclusively by the Student Council President.”

“Then where might we find the President?”

“Go further inside.”

Taking his direction, we ventured deeper, until

a room announced itself, practically screaming ‘Student Council President’s Office’

with its ostentatiously grand door handle.

He left myself and Lianna there, returning to his duties,

and I rapped on the conspicuously luxurious door.

“Requesting a party application, Student Council President.”

“..Come in.”

Whether she recognized my voice or not,

her voice held a moment of hesitation,

but I didn’t wait, simply opening the door and entering.

A woman signing documents came into view.

Hair the colour of deep twilight cascading down her back, seemingly enveloping her entirely,

her hand, calloused from holding a pen,

eyes that were sharp like a cat’s, though not unkind,

slender arms and legs juxtaposed with an impressive bust,

the daughter of the Empire’s wealthiest family,

the de facto ruler of the Academy, the Student Council President, and

the younger sister of Albert, my closest confidant,

though, as twins, they possessed too many dissimilarities.

Unlike the warmth of her brother’s voice,

her gaze held a certain coolness as she looked at me.

Sofia Iris, the Student Council President.