The Worldview Where Everyone is Destined to Die

After a while, following my parting with Judith, I headed alone to the shooting range.

Click.

The shooting range, bordered by a waist-high wooden fence on one side, was essentially open to public view.

'I don't know when someone will come. I'm not sure if I can even concentrate on it.'

The shooting range was located in a secluded area with grass and a mountain behind the target. The concern wasn't just about the noise but also the fact that bullets, once fired, can't be stopped in the middle of their path. As a precaution, I carefully looked in a direction where no one was present, anticipating potential problems or safety issues.

"Arma Cruz, ready! No passerby. There is nothing wrong with the target check."

I purposefully shouted loudly and checked inside the range. It was a signal that the practice would soon begin. As it was close to the edge of the mountain, a few cadets might come and go, but this was my way of preparing for any unexpected disaster.

Beep!

Then, I put my fingers in my mouth and whistled.

That was when the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard.

"Woof!"

"Ahh! Sit down!"

"Bow Wow!"

What appeared before me was Cookie, a crossbreed of a hunting dog specially trained for the shooting range.

Cookie, full of excitement, nudged me, jumped around a couple of times, and then settled down on her stomach.

"I told you to sit... Fine, it's been a while since we met, right?"

The name "Cookie" was fitting, given the large, droopy triangular ears with golden fur and black eyes, clearly resembling chocolate cookies. Whether it was the name or not, Cookie seemed too naive to be called a hunting dog.

Cookie played dual roles at the range: one was to step in the discs that were thrown, and if there were cadets passing by, it would bark to signal. Although usually managed by a professional breeder at the academy's kennel, I had taken on the role of training her since she was a puppy, and she followed my commands well.

"You are over 25 kg now, and yet you still act like a child?"

Cookie, who had been rolling around on the ground, put her paw on my thigh. Finding it special and cute to see her express happiness through her whole body, I rubbed her behind the ear a couple of times.

Clack.

Opening the wooden case, I took out not the small pistol I usually carry for self-defense but two manual ones, each about a span and a half long. While these pistols were typically used by gentlemen for spars, I used them for major classes.

"Cookie. Depart now!"

Focusing on Cookie, I handed her a snack along with a signal, prompting her to run to the installed thrower and step on it. Putting my left hand in my pants pocket, I stretched out my arm and headed towards the target.

Cookie waited until I got into position and then stepped on the launcher. When the thrower connected to the scaffold launched the disc,

Bang!

One of the dynamic training courses involved firing a gun loaded with gunpowder at a discus.

It is said that just 10 years ago, shooting birds rather than discs was the basis of shooting, but there was no reason to hit a bird, and it was too cruel, so I changed the method.

"Good job."

"Woof."

Cookie came back after stepping on it and took a snack as she lay down.

"Why, you don't want it?"

Working with animals meant embracing their quirks as well, so I decided to change the training from discs to targets.

Tang!

The training guns are single-shot, so I have to reload them each time I fire. I put 10 bullets into two targets, 5 bullets each, and walked towards the third target.

It was then,

"Bow!"

Cookie, who was lying down, barked loudly. It meant that someone was approaching.

"Bow!"

"Oh my, I didn't want to break your concentration."

"Cadet Dylan..."

The tall man had a strong body, though he was not a warrior. The man with flaming rose-colored hair, neatly trimmed at the neck, was Dylan, the dorm president of Wooden Cross.

Dylan approached me with a smile so bright that his eyes were overshadowed. His angular jawline and thick eyebrows brought out his charm to the fullest.

Dylan approached me with a smile so bright that his eyes were overshadowed. His angular jawline and thick eyebrows brought out his charm to the fullest.

"Feel free to call me Dylan. And I apologize."

"Then do call me by my first name too. I was going to wrap up the training anyway."

Of course, it was a lie, but I wasn't so indifferent that I could continue since I was waiting for him to come.

Dylan knew that, and yet he had the audacity to come in like this.

I quickly set the gun using the case, then placed it in the case and locked it. Dylan's eyes constantly followed my actions as if he were recording them.

'What can he know?'

Dylan was waiting for me, leaning against the fence with leisurely movements. I calmly ignored his gaze and whistled to Cookie, who was still growling at him.

"Cookie, go home."

"Uwww...."

"No, back home."

Cookie, who had just left the kennel, was shaking all over with tears in her eyes, like she really didn't want to leave. It was cute, but if I let her, the habits would only get worse.

"I will come and see you again."

"Uhh-"

I gave her snacks.

Finally, I whistled, and she immediately moved for the dog house. The smart Cookie managed to eat all her fill of snacks and ran.

And now, it was just me and Dylan.

"I received your invitation."

"It must have been a bit flustering."

"A little."

I took out the invitation Dylan had sent from my pocket and opened it.

"Are you interested in classics?... I guess it is a bit too sudden."

Dylan still fixed his eyes on me and nodded, saying, 'It could be possible.'

I put the cleaned gun in the case and adjusted its angle. Meanwhile, I could hear Dylan's soft laughter.

"Haha... It seems like I made you nervous for no reason. Wrong approach then, sorry."

"..."

When I remained silent, Dylan shifted his position from leaning on the fence to standing more upright and took a step closer to me.

"I guess I was in too much of a hurry to find someone to share a similar hobby with. Well, that is a cool gun. And this is my first time seeing a dueling pistol."

"You can try it, since I am registered as an administrator, and this is a school facility; anyone can use it."

Actually, what I said now was a bluff.

Giving a gun to an unknown cadet wasn't a good decision, but I didn't want to show him that I was wary of him.

Dylan must have read my intentions and nodded as he picked up another gun in the case.

"This is my first time holding a gun; I would appreciate it if you could explain it."

"Right. It is dangerous to reload, so I will do that."

I partially pulled back the hammer and placed gunpowder in the barrel. Following that, I wrapped the bullet in a round piece of cloth with a diameter about the width of a finger, inserted it into a stick-like holder, added a bit more gunpowder, covered it with a lid, and then handed the assembled firearm to Dylan.

"After the hammer is fully cocked, you shouldn't point it at anyone."

"Hmm."

Dylan took the gun from my hand and turned to the side of the discs.

"..."

But strangely, he remained motionless. As I was about to speak again, wondering if I had conveyed something incorrectly, Dylan switched the hand holding the gun and rubbed his palm on his pants. His once-pleasant complexion now appeared pale.

"I'm a bit nervous. It seems like one mistake could ruin everything. I can't afford to make any errors, not even in my actions here.

Dylan handed me the fully loaded gun.

I nodded and removed the bullet, showing him how to fire at a distance.

Tang!

"Nowadays, guns are so well developed that they don't need gunpowder, but the guns used in marksmanship are still single-shot gunpowder guns."

"Classic in a way."

"It is for efficiency."

From the moment I put the gun down and looked at Dylan's face, which was turning red again, I set the gun aside.

'I sent Cookie home for no reason.'

If I had known that the atmosphere would be this tense, I would have let her stay to brighten the mood.

A moment of regret.

Then a calm voice broke down the tense atmosphere.

"This is a shooting range. Currently, Cadet Arma Cruz is a shooting major and can use it alone."

"Ah, then the loud noise I heard a moment ago was gunfire."

"Yes. But it is for practice now; when Cadet Cruz trains, the assistance dogs keep the other cadets at bay."

"Ah, I see."

The soft voice, reminiscent of the smooth rolling of jade, and the familiar low-pitched tone of a woman.

Two people's voices came from the fence.

'Judith?'

Judith was escorting a small, delicate-looking girl.

It was clear that she was a young lady from a high-ranking noble family, as she wasn't just covering her face with a net but also had white lace over it.

On the other side of the fence, Judith silently mouthed, 'See you again' and walked away.

"Who is that young lady?"

"She doesn't seem like a cadet; she must be an outsider for admission."

Dylan commented after observing Judith and the escorted girl. Given Dylan's extensive knowledge of most cadets in the school, his information was considered the most accurate available.

It seems like Judith was in no state to talk with me today.

Clack!

As I locked the case containing the two guns, Dylan spoke like he had been waiting.

"Before we have a full talk, would you mind moving around with me?"

'Is this it?'

After untying the ribbon from my hair, I nodded. I followed the bright Dylan towards the north annex, where the professors' offices were situated.

Step, step.

We walked in silence through an old wooden annex where everything, from the walls to the floor, was made of wood. I followed Dylan quietly, and despite my silence, he seemed excited, humming as we walked.

'What is there in a place like this?'

The northern annex was initially intended as a preparation room for professors but now stands as an abandoned building, nearly forgotten during the renovations that the western and eastern annexes underwent.

Of course, since this is part of the academy, it seems like the basic management is in place, but it isn't a place where cadets can come and go without any specific reason.

"You seem to be curious about something."

"Right. First, tell me how much further we have to go, Dylan."

"Not much!"

Dylan passed me about 10 steps and stopped in front of the wooden door decorated with gold-painted vines.

"Right here!"

"..."

It was quite an unpleasant place. The redwood building with dazzling grapes and baby angels.

I stood in front of the door with a slightly tired look, being careful not to accidentally touch the decorations.

"Well then---Welcome to the classic literature club <Ashen Dawn Society>!"

Clack!

When the heavy wooden door opened, the first thing I saw was...

A slender boy lay on the table, engrossed in an open book with his nose buried in its pages.