I Became a Genius Swordsman in the Pretty Girl Game

Lina was flustered.

“…In collusion… with demons? These kids of mine…?”

What on earth did that even mean?
Her mind refused to connect her students with demons.

It couldn’t be true, could it?

Sure, they’d recently started making odd, private requests that were hard to understand. But she’d chalked it up to the strain of excessive workloads given their limited abilities.

No leader of any organization could make the right decisions all the time. It was natural for a group to veer in the direction most of its members pushed for, even if it wasn’t ideal.

After all, even she couldn’t always steer the academy on the right path—how could she expect better from them?

And yet, despite everything…

She never doubted that their actions were rooted in goodwill.

These students were comrades who had stood with her through the treacherous Gate crisis.

Although their innate abilities weren’t extraordinary, they had rolled up their sleeves and worked tirelessly to rebuild shattered civilizations, contributing their share to normalizing the world.

Could such people really do something as preposterous as colluding with demons?

The problem, however, was that it wasn’t just anyone making these accusations—it was Jin Yuha.
The one person she trusted and relied on more than anyone at this point in time.

“Jin Yuha, do you understand what you’re saying? Think carefully and answer again. Are you sure you don’t want to take it back?”

She hoped, desperately, that he would say it was all a lie.

But Jin Yuha simply shook his head calmly.

“No, I have no intention of retracting my words.”
“What… Are you saying that I failed to see these kids colluding with demons right under my nose?”

Lina glared at Jin Yuha, her eyes blazing.

He met her gaze, his expression tinged with pity, and spoke.

“Well… It seems their collusion with demons is a recent development. But you know as well as I do, Chairwoman, that it’s not hard to avoid getting demon energy on oneself even when dealing indirectly with them. And with powers like the ‘Authority to Conceal Demonic Energy,’ like the demon who infiltrated our academy had, it’s not impossible to evade detection altogether.”

“Do you realize what you’re saying? Can you take responsibility for it?”

Lina’s voice was firm, but even as she spoke, she knew Jin Yuha wasn’t the type to make baseless claims.

He sighed softly.
“I started with the most shocking part, just to grab your attention. Chairwoman, your students—no, these scumbags you call your students—aren’t worth the regard you have for them.”

Jin Yuha let out another quiet breath and swept his icy gaze around the room.
Finally, he pointed at one of the collapsed discepole.

“For instance, falsely accusing someone of dissenting opinions and destroying their reputation in the process.”
“What are you talking about?”

Lina tried to interject, but Jin Yuha moved his finger to the next student without pause.

“Misappropriating artifacts meant for veteran welfare, keeping them for personal use, and reselling them at exorbitant prices.”
“…What?”

“Distributing drugs within the country.”
“Loan sharking.”
“Embezzling donations meant for public welfare organizations.”
“Rigging elections—four times.”
“Misusing public funds for personal expenses.”
“Deliberately neglecting Gate explosion zones.”
“Promoting awakened supremacist ideologies and exploiting civilians.”
“And taking bribes. Every single one of them here is guilty of that.”

Jin Yuha’s low voice echoed through the hall, its emptiness chilling.

With each crime he listed, Lina’s face grew paler.

Not a single accusation was minor. If his words were true, they deserved to lose their heads on the spot.

She couldn’t believe it.
It couldn’t be true.
Her students couldn’t have done such heinous, despicable things.

“Where’s your proof!?”

Lina’s voice rose in a frantic pitch.
Jin Yuha tilted his head, puzzled.

“Proof? Why would you need proof?”
“What… did you say?”
“Chairwoman, you can read hidden thoughts if you use your power, can’t you? It’s simple—just ask them if it’s true. Why bother with evidence?”

Lina turned her gaze from Jin Yuha to her fallen students, clinging to the faint hope that at least one of them would deny it.

But…

“Teacher! You know me, don’t you? It’s me, Yurayna! The kid you saved and took in from the back alleys!”
“N-no! Please, listen to me first! You have to hear my side of the story!”
“T-teacher, you’re not really going to use that mind-reading power, are you? I have state secrets in my head—if they’re leaked, it’ll be catastrophic!”
“Aha… well, sometimes, you end up doing slightly wrong things in the line of duty, but everyone lives like that, right?”
“Teacher, we’ve known each other for so long. You wouldn’t turn your back on us because of this guy, would you?”

Their excuses came tumbling out, but none dared to rise in protest or claim their innocence outright.

If they had truly been blameless, they would have stood tall, declared their innocence, and demanded justice.

Instead, they crouched, pleading and pathetic, relying on sentiment and excuses.

“Teacher! This is all a misunderstanding! We were pretending to collude with demons to find their hideouts and eliminate them!”

The violet-haired student, Park Ji-yoon, had been the one Lina cherished most—a student who lacked talent but worked hard. She had been like an injured finger, painful yet beloved.

Now, that same student was stammering ridiculous excuses after being caught colluding with demons.

At this point, Lina didn’t need to read their minds to know the truth.
Every word Jin Yuha had said was true.

A thick wave of revulsion clouded her mind.

“How… How could you… How did you all become like this…?”

Crushed by the weight of betrayal, Lina covered her face with trembling hands.

.

.

.

The sight of the small trembling back came into view.

Watching Lina’s back, I felt an intense and complex weight in my chest.

‘…Lina may act otherwise, but she is deeply moved by emotions.’

That was true.

The director of Velvet Hunter Academy, the Archmage, the strongest being in the world.
A superhuman known as the Mage Emperor, who never yielded to external pressure and always made bold and fair decisions.

Her name was a symbol of absolute trust to everyone living on this earth.

But as a person, not as the “Mage Emperor,” Lina was inherently tender-hearted and susceptible to emotional ties.

The reason she had become this way was none other than her past losses.

Having lost all memory of her life before awakening,
she paradoxically became deeply attached to relationships.

‘…Though I didn’t know these people were her students.’

When Lina considered someone her “own,”
she granted them unwavering trust, stepping back no matter how suspicious things might seem, believing there must be a reason behind their actions.

If anyone were to say Lina was wrong,

‘Absolutely not.’

Lina wasn’t at fault.
It was they who betrayed her trust.
If Lina had any fault, it was trusting people who didn’t deserve it.

The reason I knew such detailed corruption and crimes about them was partly because, in the game, their mugshots—taken after being handcuffed—were among the most satisfying moments.

From my pocket, a small blue gemstone peeked out.

Through the Gate’s specialized surveillance drone camera, I transmitted their images to Shin Se-hee, who conducted a real-time investigation.

Meanwhile, beneath my feet, Ichika’s shadow transformed, summarizing the findings.

Some time ago, when the Demons targeted the Gate’s achievements,
several individuals here had already been implicated in their schemes, making it easy to identify them.

‘Tch.’

Even if their roots had rotted beyond saving and needed to be cut off,
the bitter taste in my mouth persisted—unlike in the game.

.

.

.

The faint hum of energy resonated through the air.

Lina, who had been covering her face with her hands and bowing her head,
now had her limp, violet hair rippling like a mirage.

-Boom!

The very atmosphere vibrated, and the waves of power emanating from Lina shook the entire building.

-Crackle! Crack!
-Clang! Crash! Smash!

Lights flickered before dying out.
The chandelier above and every glass object shattered, scattering into countless shards on the floor.

“Eek! M-Master!!! P-Please, that’s not it!!”
“I-I’m sorry! M-Master!”
“We were wrong!! J-Just this once, please forgive us!!”
“It-It’s not what it looks like!!!”

Realizing the situation, their faces turned pale as they began to beg desperately.

It was righteous anger.

Under Lina’s infinite trust,
these people had received an abundance of support,
only to betray that trust and exploit her kindness with malicious intent.

But…

‘I can’t let Lina waste her strength here.’

If she used her abilities to attack them, the backlash would be severe.
Her body was already laden with exhausting constraints.
There was no way I could allow her to suffer pain because of this trash.

Easier said than done.

Lina, even now, wasn’t unleashing her full strength, but her transcendent aura was undeniable.

“Let’s stop here, Chairman.”

I stepped forward to block her.
Her ominous gaze fixated on me.

“Move aside.”
“Haha… That’s a bit difficult.”
“I said, move.”
“Calm down, Chairman.”

Lina bit her lip, her voice trembling with fury.

“Why! Why are you standing in my way! Isn’t this what you wanted? That I would take responsibility for these wretched creatures I raised with my own hands?! So step aside!!!”

-Crack!

-Boom! Boom! CRASH!

Her emotions spiraled, splitting the ground and breaking apart the building, sending large debris tumbling down.

‘Hmph, seems like words alone won’t work on this reckless girl.’

So what was I going to do?

I took a step forward.

The crushing pressure weighed heavily on my body as though it would break me apart.

Another step.

Crack—

I heard the unsettling sound of bones creaking. Gritting my teeth, I bore it.

And another step.

Her unstable, tear-streaked face came into view, trembling with vulnerability.

“Lina.”

Calling her name softly, I reached out and pulled her into an embrace,
gently cradling her head.

Then, I whispered quietly into her ear:

“Calm down. I’ll take care of this, okay?”