1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

70. Sadomagic (2)

The lobby of Schulaffe Hall was noisy due to the sudden intrusion of Bürger Hall students.

The students, faces familiar yet stricken with fear, could muster no reply.

In the Bürger Hall, there were decent fellows, but the group over there was filled with the very worst of scoundrels.

“Whoever did this to my brother, step forward.”

“Have these b*stards lost their senses? Aren’t they training the newcomers properly?”

As the thugs menaced those passing by, Shuvil, with his nose wrapped in bandages, squared his shoulders.

The dormitory supervisor shook his head at the sight.

Typically, conflicts between dorms were the students’ affair.

In such cases, it was a matter to be resolved through mediation among the representatives.

Just then, Atra, drawn by the commotion, appeared.

“What’s going on with you lot? Huh? Evil.”

“…Is that you, Atra?”

Atra shot a glare at Evil and asked, “What’s the ruckus at this hour?”

“That guy from your hall did this to my brother’s nose. We’re tired of this. We’ll just take a look and leave, so gather the freshmen.”

“What?”

“Oh, never mind. Just call Makdal over.”

Evil waved dismissively, as if annoyed.

Atra narrowed his eyes at his rude demeanor.

“Does your representative know about this?”

“Haah, Atra. Let’s stop pretending to be representatives. Honestly, you’re just wearing the title; no one follows you. That two-faced b*stard has taken the real power. And now you’ve been overshadowed by that new kid, Hursel? Look around. Not a single soul here is willing to help you.”

As Evil pointed out, the Shulafe Hall students were all too eager to avert their gazes.

When Atra glared with a sullen face, Makdal finally made his appearance.

“What’s all this noise? Wait, is that you, Evil? Long time no see.”

Evil greeted him warmly.

“Wow, you’ve lost some weight. Been well?”

“I’ve gotten healthier. But what’s going on here?”

As Makdal inquired, Evil grinned slyly.

“Oh, it turns out one of your freshmen turned my brother into this mess. So, I was hoping you could gather the first-years for me.”

Evil treated him with a certain levity, unlike with Atra.

But Makdal’s expression was strange.

“Hmm, it is indeed a rather serious issue. I hope we can resolve it amicably with words.”

“…What’s with you? Why the sudden change?”

“Nothing, just.”

Evil tilted his head, observing the seemingly softened expression of Makdal.

For some reason, the fierce impression that lingered in his memory appeared to have dulled considerably.

“Anyway, that kind of decision-making power lies not with me, but with the representative of this place. Have you come to an agreement with Atra?”

Atra raised her nose and let out a soft laugh.

“That’s what they say, isn’t it? Evil.”

How this had come to be, Evil could not fathom, but he reluctantly decided to take a step back.

“Atra… Could you gather the new students for me?”

“Well? What should we do about this?”

“Still, we need to resolve the issue, don’t you think?”

“Well, we should at least hear what the parties involved have to say, so let’s do that.”

As Atra commanded the students of Shulafe Hall, the newcomers began to crawl out one by one.

Evil’s younger brother, Shuvil, widened his eyes as he took in their appearances.

“Ah, why are they causing such a ruckus? I’m already dead tired.”

Here he came.

The one with the blonde hair and long limbs.

Shuvil whispered softly into Evil’s ear.

“Brother, it’s that guy.”

Evil approached him, feeling a strange sense of fate.

Makdal and Atra watched in silence, curious about what was unfolding.

But then, Evil attempted to poke his finger against the guy’s forehead.

Thud!

Evil’s wrist was caught in a grip as large as a pot lid.

Asley, who stood beside him, glared down at Evil with a fierce intensity.

Crack!

Despite the heavy grip, Evil forced a nonchalant scoff.

“What, what’s this? A friend of yours? Asher. With a build like that, you’ll soon be in Burgar Hall; you should enjoy dorm life. Don’t you think?”

In that moment, the students of Shulafe Hall gaped in astonishment.

Maggdal’s eyes trembled in shock, and Atrah muttered softly, “Th-that madman.”

Asley’s voice rang out, calm yet unsettling in the stillness.

“Boss. Shall I break it?”

“Enough, let’s see what business I have with you. I don’t recognize your face; who are you?”

Asley released his grip, and Ebil, feeling the sting of humiliation, hastily pointed at Shubil.

“Your handiwork, right? You hurt my brother with your wicked tricks.”

Hersel narrowed his eyes as he looked at Shubil.

“Oh, that? He got himself smacked by the instructor for acting like a fool.”

Shubil scowled, indignant.

“Don’t be ridiculous! It was your doing!”

In a world where rank was akin to thuggery.

If the higher-ups said so, then so it was.

Shubil pressed on, glaring at Ebil.

“Brother, are you really going to believe that scum?”

Ebil was wary of the hulking figure, but the sheer number of his entourage gave him confidence.

“Atrah, we have business with this one. Is that alright?”

Atrah stood there, dumbfounded, saying nothing.

Ebil’s crew began to encircle Hersel, indifferent to the tension.

Then, a heavy thud echoed against Ebil’s skull.

Whack!

“You, you lunatic! Get down and beg for mercy instead of standing there!!”

It was Maggdal who struck.

“M-Maggdal. Why…?”

Maggdal pressed down on Ebil’s head with force, forcing him to bow.

“H-Hersel, please forgive me!”

“W-what?”

Ebil gasped inwardly, horrified.

Hersel, the one who had dunked the new recruit in the vat.

Wasn’t he the new emperor of the Shulafe dynasty?

That wretch was him?

As his name sprang forth, the crowd recoiled, faces frozen in shock.

“Ah, if you wish to live, then prostrate yourself and beg!”

One by one, they knelt before the high castle of Makdal.

Evil too sensed the peril and mirrored their actions.

Yet, his younger brother Shuvil seemed still lost in confusion, merely stammering.

“Hyung… what in the world…?”

“Enough with the chatter, kneel too, you brat…”

With a low murmur, Shuvil finally bowed down.

At that moment, a deep voice from above pressed down upon their shoulders.

“So, you’ve come to exact revenge for your brother over something I didn’t even do?”

“Y-yes, that was the case… But now I understand it was a misunderstanding, right? Shuvil, you lied, didn’t you?”

Makdal let out a scoff and struck the back of Evil’s head.

Crack!

“Ugh…”

“If you want to live, raise your voice, boy.”

“Y-yes, I understand now that it was a misunderstanding, and I beg for your forgiveness. My brother is surely regretting it as well, isn’t that right, Shuvil…?”

Shuvil sensed the danger too, but the fear of dying alone gripped him too tightly.

“Hyung…”

Hussel used the prostrate Shuvil as a footrest, addressing Evil.

“I’m not such a bad person. If your brother simply apologizes, I might be willing to let it slide.”

Seizing the opportunity, Shuvil blurted out an apology.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t even recognize you, Hussel-nim, and I acted so rudely!!”

Yet, Hussel merely gazed at Evil.

“It seems there’s a rule among you. If one of your dorm mates gets hurt, you retaliate in kind. Isn’t that right? That’s why you all came rushing here.”

“Y-yes, that’s correct.”

“Then get up. Your brother has apologized, so keep your word from earlier.”

Evil’s group exhaled a sigh of relief and lifted their heads.

But then Hussel turned to Atra and spoke.

“Senior, our people… haven’t they suffered quite a bit at the hands of these fellows?”

“Uh… well, yes, that’s true?”

“What are you doing? They say it’s the rule to repay what’s been done to you.”

Atra let out an ‘Oh’ as if he understood, then shouted loudly.

“Right, that’s the rule. Now, those who’ve been wronged by these b*stards, gather here.”

The people of the Shulafe temple hesitated for a moment, but soon found confidence in Hessel’s presence.

One by one, they began to gather, and before long, they surrounded Evil’s group like a swarm of locusts.

And then the beating began.

With a flurry of kicks and punches raining down, Evil’s group curled up like a frightened mouse.

Thud! Thud!

They gritted their teeth, squeezing out tears and snot as they endured.

“That b*stard, he keeps hitting me on the back of the head!”

“Hey! Can you tone down the filthy jokes a bit?”

“Remember that time you played with the coins? Just because I’m in the Shulafe temple, you think I’m an easy target? Huh?”

Minutes passed, yet the violence showed no signs of stopping.

Instead, when those doing the hitting began to tire and weaken, Rix approached Atra with wide, startled eyes.

“Senpai, I’m sorry for being late. I was in the shower…”

“Oh, Rix. Did you happen to get caught up in this too?”

“Eh? No. I don’t know these people. What on earth is going on?”

Atra explained the situation to Rix, detailing everything one by one.

Rix scolded them for their wrongdoing.

“We are beings of intellect. As nobles, we must walk the path of virtue and set an example for others. Yet, punishing with such barbaric violence is not right.”

Caught up in his sense of justice, Hessel asked, “Oh really? What do you suggest we do then?”

“Hessel… This calls for a more humane punishment.”

Rix pulled out a rule mirror, pointing out the warnings with his finger.

[Room 309 does not exist. Do not enter out of curiosity. If you do so as a prank, remain silent and still for 24 hours. Someone will come to rescue you at 6 PM.]

Hessel was impressed.

“Oh, locking them up would be better, then.”

“Right, giving them time for reflection might make it easier to guide them.”

Evil, who had been listening to their conversation, couldn’t help but curse under his breath.

“That, that b*stard…”

Evil Murie seemed to Rix a more formidable foe.

It was already a matter nearing its end.

They had taken far too many blows.

Blood streamed from their noses, their eyes were swollen, and their bodies were covered in bruises…

Meanwhile, Limburton, watching this scene from afar, murmured softly as he flipped through a sensual novel.

“…There’s not a sane person in sight.”

* * *

The next day, the Shulafe students regarded me with a gaze akin to that of heroes.

It seemed they believed I had stepped forward for their sake yesterday.

Not that I had intended to do so.

The senior bugs were of no concern to me, and as long as they didn’t bring me trouble, that was all that mattered.

However, if a scuffle arose with some fool like that Shubill, it would be a tiresome affair in many ways.

If I could just imprint my face in their memories, my future would be easier.

But he was dim-witted, so it was necessary to instill a memory of violence that would linger for a lifetime.

“What’s this? Has that guy given up?”

Henderson stared at the empty seat in the classroom.

I took it upon myself to explain to him.

“He’s in the infirmary, I hear. He probably won’t be back here again.”

“…Was my head that hard?”

Henderson tapped his head with his hand.

“Well, that’s fine. It’ll be easier to conduct class, right? So, I’ve mastered origami quickly; what shall we do today…?”

He fell into thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers.

“Ah, this will do. Today, we’ll just sleep.”

“Sleep?”

Henderson relaxed his jaw as he explained.

“Yeah, sleep. Though it’s not your ordinary slumber. Professor, bring me a pillow.”

“Hmm.”

As the old professor waved his cane, a pillow flew in from the entrance of the classroom.

“Magic is a force that, the more you use it, the more it taints your mind. It’s like a kind of poison. It triggers a conscious rejection response. So, the only black magic you lot can manage right now is merely origami.”

“Because the amount of magic you can handle is so small?”

“Indeed. That is why it leads one into the most fragile state of slumber. Even if the magic lingers within, it allows for a certain tolerance to develop.”

In simpler terms, it is akin to alcohol.

The first sip of life brings swift intoxication, yet as tolerance builds, so too does one’s capacity.

In the same vein, one must cultivate a suitable tolerance to harbor more magic within.

The end result may be addiction, but…

Henderson offered me a pillow, then began sketching incantations upon the chalkboard.

“Follow this precisely and cast the spell upon the pillow. If you’ve grasped origami, you should manage just fine. Now, inspiration—bring forth some magic.”

The old professor summoned the dark magic that had been lurking below.

I traced the incantation with my wand, adhering to Henderson’s guidance.

Suuu—

The once pristine pillow began to darken, infused with the magic.

“A spell that refines the particles of magic.”

“Exactly, it enhances the penetration rate. You just need to bury your head in it and sleep.”

Though I felt uncertain, I had my ‘one-second invincibility.’

Should I fall into the throes of magical addiction, it would surely be nullified.

Once more, it seemed worth a try.

* * *

Henderson scoffed at Hursel, sprawled on the bare floor.

The old professor raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his reaction.

“How rare it is for you to teach with such fervor.”

Henderson scratched his chin with his index finger, gazing at the ceiling.

“Hmm, perhaps it’s because it’s worth teaching?”

The old professor appeared puzzled.

Magic and dark magic are, after all, two sides of the same coin.

Lacking magical talent is a shared fate.

‘His understanding is exceptional, yet this fellow’s physique barely qualifies as average. How curious.’

The innate capacity to absorb mana is limited.

His sense of manipulation is also lacking, leading to a wasteful expenditure of mana.

It was almost miraculous that this man had even crossed the threshold of a magician, raising questions about who his master might be.

“I don’t understand. One may know how to sail, but without a boat, one cannot venture into the sea. Yet, you say it’s worth teaching?”

Henderson chuckled softly.

“Have you ever seen a nobleman who embraced the magic?”

The old professor realized what Henderson meant by the thrill of teaching.

“Yes, as you say, this one lacks a belly. Yet, he threw himself into the sea. He chose to swim.”

Such students did exist, albeit rarely.

Those who, even when the limits were clearly laid bare, worked diligently until the end.

In the end, they made even the onlookers cheer for them.

“And now, he lies before me, sprawled on the dusty floor, sound asleep.”

“You, the noble-hater, seem to have taken a liking to him.”

Henderson scratched his head awkwardly.

“He may look unappetizing, but I’ll say I like his choice.”

At this favorable response, the old professor’s eyes narrowed.

“Then, will you teach this student ‘that’?”

“Old man.”

Henderson wiped the smile from his lips in an instant, replying in a cold voice.

“Do you think I don’t know your kind? Let me be clear: I will teach no one my vision magic. I’ll take it to the grave, if need be.”

The reason the Empire kept this man alive.

It was not merely to teach students, but because of the special dark magic that Henderson possessed.

“Are you aware? That the magic you’ve created is a groundbreaking discovery that will lead to a transformation of civilization.”

Henderson named that magic Inventory.

A dark magic that allowed one to retrieve items from anywhere, unbound by space.

If it were to be refined and established as a standardized magic, the world would change, quite literally.

“Transport, supply of military provisions on the battlefield. There are so many other applications that it’s hard to even count.”

At the old professor’s words, Henderson chuckled.

“Why should I care? Ah, damn it, old man. Lend me your staff so I can grab a beer. It’s so damn refreshing.”

Above all, the most astonishing aspect was that the items placed within the Inventory maintained their temperature, decaying not a bit, preserved in their entirety.

As if they existed in a space where time had stopped…