I Became the Daughter of the Academy’s Villain

<171 - The Curse of the Upperclassmen>

“Jakku, you really can’t stop spewing nonsense, can you? What do you even know about psychopathy?”

On a _late night_, Primer muttered to himself, recalling Jakku, who had hurled insults at him without a second thought. He knew talking to himself made him look foolish, but he was too enraged to care.

‘The Foundation’s support is not _fair_.’

Just like how the Academy provides _points_ for living expenses at regular intervals, the Foundation also gives out financial aid and resources to scholarship students on a set schedule, through undisclosed cooperation partners and supporters. He had never thought of it as cheesy—until recently.

-Hey, did you hear about Oknodie? They say he has an amazing _butler_.

-They claim he’s some kind of representative from the Foundation, leaving the child alone until dawn to have a quick meeting.

-If his parents are around, why don’t they come pick him up? That’s just too much.

-They say he’s an abused child.

-He’s always wearing a smile, but there’s something terrifying about him. I feel like he might just pull a soul out of someone if he gets upset.

-We should just steer clear of him.

Rumors surrounding Oknodie, as usual. But there was a story there that he simply couldn’t overlook.

‘You met the Foundation’s butler directly?’

Unlike the group training at the training grounds, where instructors teach multiple students, those with exceptional talent get assigned a dedicated instructor. That’s what the ‘butlers’ within the Wiheomhae Foundation were all about.

‘You snobby brat!’

Just because they were born with slightly better talent, they get preferential treatment! Those who had butlers were at once both an object of envy and hatred among the dozens to hundreds of apprentices living in a shared space.

-What’s different about us?

-There must be some talent that I’ve yet to discover.

-Exactly. The instructors are just careless when it comes to us.

The hopeful delusion that he too might be a silver spoon, coupled with blaming the instructors for his shortcomings. Unable to lash out at them, he instead focused on the rumors about the butler’s children.

One particularly talented young lady was officially recognized as the only public scholarship student by the Foundation. She didn’t hide her identity, receiving generous support from established lines, making Primer feel envious.

‘It’s not just me who dislikes you.’

Primer, who was just a first-year student, didn’t intend to target the top scholarship student without any solid backing.

“Use this item to show the top scholarship student a demonstration. If you fail to catch up to those ahead of you, the time for your removal will only hasten.”

During their last rendezvous, a secret cipher order was given to him, targeting Oknodie, along with an item to assist with that task. The portable _Curse Storage Device_, capable of containing the Academy’s curses!

[First Year Restricted Access Zone]
[If entry is absolutely necessary, you must be accompanied by an instructor’s _permit_.]

Stepping cautiously into the upperclassman area, marked by ominous warnings, Primer felt an unshakeable nervousness rise.

‘Something’s nearby.’

Recalling the Foundation’s training, Primer quickly sought a hiding spot to mask his presence. He heard a couple of second-years chatting as they exited a nearby research lab.

“Did you hear the story about the human anatomy room? Apparently, there’s no right hand this week.”

“They’re supposed to pretend to have a hand inside their clothes? What a hassle. If it’s the insides, it wouldn’t be visible anyway, so what’s the problem?”

“Right? Exactly.”

‘…Internal organs? Human anatomy?? Right hand??’

What on earth was going on in that second-year anatomy room? It sounded dangerously like a curse. If he could just sneak in, steal the human model, and place it in front of Oknodie, he could put him under a curse of losing his right hand! The idea was tempting, but he soon heard that the professor had taken it for the lecture, and he abandoned the thought.

“This is a headache. Preparing for the _midterm exam_ is just too intense. I’ll go rest in the _garden_*”

“Oh, Bixton. You shouldn’t go there. I heard from a necromancy upperclassman that due to the curse week, the dimensional seals might be getting loose, connecting it to the _Forest of the Undead_*.”

“Ugh, that’s just disgusting. How can an academy that still has places we can’t go even at second year have this many restrictions? I’m seriously contemplating dropping out.”

“You won’t get acknowledgment unless you make it through until the third year. Haven’t you heard that if you say you’re a second-year dropout, nobody will take you seriously?”

Among the other second-years’ chatter, there wasn’t much talk about the curse. If anything, all they’d hear about were vague or enormous curses that were simply impossible to contain. Frustrated and ready to take a risk, Primer resolved to delve into a more dangerous area.

[Third Year Restricted Access Zone]
[If first or second years enter, failure to follow the supervising instructor’s orders could lead to death.]

“…”

Instead of strict security measures, it felt like an invitation for anyone tired of living to come on through, marked only by a flimsy ribbon hanging in the stairway leading to the third-year area. As he cautiously approached, the black string that looked like it belonged outside a shrine filled him with dread.

‘What if I mess with Oknodie and end up dead myself?’

No way! He had to think the opposite.

Even if half of the rumors were true, how could a mere second-year curse possibly affect Oknodie? Hadn’t he been treating the curses in the first-year area as mere training tools?

‘I’ll show him the true terror of a curse that exists in the third-year area!’

With that flicker of courage, Primer stepped over the black ribbon into the third-year area.

Despite it only being one more floor, the atmosphere felt sterile, as though he had entered a place devoid of people.

‘Are there really people in a place like this?’

Peeking into the lit classroom, he was perplexed to find it completely empty.

‘What the hell. What’s going on?’

Panic gripped him as he stumbled backward, just as the door creaked open right in front of him.

“Ahhh!”

A, a _ghost!!_

As he bolted in panic, a figure emerged behind him smoothly.

“What’s with that dude? Sneaking around during the _invisibility lecture_, then running off. Is he some kind of weird stalker trying to catch a glimpse of the transparency magic’s failure state where underwear and skin show through?”

Primer missed the mutterings of the third-year and continued to run until he hit a dead end. The school directory indicated that the layout on each floor was identical, implying that a stairwell should have been on the opposite hallway, but it was blocked midway.

‘Why? A dead end? Why?’

Suddenly, a handprint appeared on the wall above him.

Like a demon clawing its way out of a hellhole, as more and more handprints appeared, finally, a face began to form beyond them, causing his mental state to break.

I have to run.

He quickly threw open the nearest classroom door, entered, and shut it behind him.

“What the hell? I was trying to tell him not to come in, and he just walks right in?”

The senior who had exited through the wall looked dumbfounded, contemplating whether to say something before just walking away. Naturally, Primer, completely unaware, found himself standing inside a classroom he should never have entered.

‘What the heck is this… ah, who cares? I just need to open the window and jump out.’

My legs might get hurt a bit, but if I can just escape the third-year area, that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

As he approached the window in the eerie room filled with mannequins, drawing the curtains aside, one mannequin suddenly pulled them back down.

“!?”

Primer was too startled to even breathe.

Then, one of the statues spoke to him.

“Don’t generate any light. This is an art room cursed with _petrification_, so if you shine light or go outside, you’ll become a real statue for a while.”

“A-Are you a person…? I just want to get out of here… please let me go…”

“If you want to leave, imitate a statue for one hour, so the murderous statues acknowledge you as one of their kin, and you can exit quietly. If not, they’ll catch you.”

The head of the statue opened, revealing a real person’s face from within.

Looking around at the mannequins that had once filled the room, Primer was horrified to see them all now armed with deadly weapons, surrounding him.

In the split second where light had filtered in from the window, he unwittingly attracted their deadly attention and nearly faced being murdered.

‘The curses in suspicious places are not on the same level as the petty curses I dealt with before!’

These curses had tangible forms, enforcing their rules, and would injure anyone who broke them. Such curses couldn’t be contained in a portable _Curse Storage Device_, nor should they be.

If these light-crazed statues were unleashed outside, it wouldn’t just be Oknodie—first-years would be dropping like flies too.

“How do you enter the statue?”

“By using disassembly and recombination magic.”

“But I haven’t learned that yet…”

“Then die.”

“Help me. Please…”

“Press the rescue button on the _Magic Watch_. You’ll have to pay a fine, but the instructors will come to save you.”

Following the senior’s advice, Primer pressed the rescue button, and thankfully, instructors wearing stealth cloaks rushed to his aid, draping one over him too before dragging him out.

“1000 _points_ deducted. That’s for recklessly entering a hazardous area, so think of it as the price of your life.”

“Just being rescued is more than enough for me…”

After an arduous ordeal, Primer staggered back to the safe area, only to realize in despair:

“Oh no, where’s my _Curse Storage Device?_”

It must have been lost in the chaos.

He had no choice but to accept it as a price on his life.

As Primer’s shoulders sagged more and more,

—

“Oknodie, why are you breaking the ceiling tiles?”

“If you make a hole in this location from this time, an item that can store curses will come out!”

“Why on earth is that a thing…?”

Oknodie, Titosso, and Hestia snuck into the second floor during the curse resistance work. As they drilled a hole, something resembling a laser pointer, sharp blades, and long claws all tumbled down in a rush.

With the additional curse week event items combined with sharp tools for memorization, they hit the jackpot! This was, after all, a _veteran player spot_ with great value.

“That’s a bit scary. It sounds like something is trying to break through the hole to attack us.”

“Of course, it’s the third-year area!”

“Eww, are the third-years living with those things?”

Unlike the terrified Titosso, Hestia, a mercenary with thicker nerves, casually pointed out the loots they had collected.

“Oknodie, I was worried and came to follow you, but what are you planning to do with that item you gathered?”

“If I can’t work on my resistance during my sleep hours, that would be no good, right? If I store the curse here and let it out during my sleep, I can work on my resistance even while asleep!”

“Ah… okay.”

“Would you like to join too, Hestia?”

“No, I’m good.”

Even though Hestia saw the necessity of curse resistance, she hadn’t yet mustered the courage to go this far.

“Won’t you lend it to me if I ask later?”

“I won’t say that.”

“Really? You won’t lend it? That’s just for one person!”

“…Please don’t talk about the _Curse Storage Item_ like it’s a bowl of noodles boiled at night!”

---