Hallucination (2)
You know how I felt right now?
Like sitting with two bosses you’d like to smack on the back of the head every time they turn around.
That was exactly it.
“When we raided them, what activated was a trap-type spell.”
“It was something even I couldn’t detect until the very moment of activation. At the very least, it wasn’t the work of a student. It’s highly likely this was done by an outsider.”
I refuted Michael, who had practically declared it the work of an outsider.
“Even just Karen de Arileria is high-level when it comes to spells. You know that better than anyone, Professor Lippenstein.”
Karen de Arileria. Current student council president and a future Archmage.
No matter how much people disparaged this place as a no-name university, Springwind still had more than its share of monstrous talents.
That was also the reason why Michael hadn't moved on to the Bureau of Magical Engineering, and instead stayed on here as a professor in the Department of Magical Defense.
“You're right. We can’t determine the culprit yet. That applies to you, Rohan, and to me as well.”
As he said, everyone was a suspect.
Not only that, even the Chancellor couldn’t be ruled out. She was the one who had developed ‘Soma,’ the root of Black Candy.
I asked Ariel,
“How many people escaped that time? Ah, Professor Lippenstein. Since I’m currently an assistant professor, I can treat Ariel as a student, right?”
“…Do as you like.” Michael's eyebrow twitched for a moment, but Ariel shook her head as she tried to recall.
“There were not only trap-type spells, but also distortion-type spells at work.”
“Distortion?”
“Yes. From the outside, it looked like no one was there. Even beyond the trap that triggered when the door opened, nothing was visible.”
“Then how did you know to raid them?”
In response, Ariel showed me her smartphone screen.
Displayed on it was a single anonymous message with an unknown sender.
Michael added,
“I wouldn’t have known either if Ariel hadn’t shown me that message.”
That was all the message said.
We had no idea who sent it, but the content turned out to be true.
So then, who could it be? An internal whistleblower? No. If it were internal whistleblowing, they would’ve mentioned the traps. Which meant this person only knew about the fact that a deal was taking place.
But distortion-type spells had also been cast at the transaction site.
At a level high enough to escape even Michael’s detection.
Then how had this informant managed to let us know?
Michael spoke up at that moment.
“At the very least, it wasn’t a betrayal during the deal. If they’d tipped us off, they’d have expected arrests and wouldn’t have shown up at the agreed location.”
“Then the culprits must have noticed and broken off the deal first.”
The more we speculated, the deeper the case sank into a labyrinth.
Black Candy. High-level spells. And an unknown informant.
Just as those three clues began to entangle like gum stuck in hair.
Dding.
Ariel’s smartphone chimed.
Another message had arrived, also anonymous.
She took a breath and opened it.
…I was finally getting a sense of it.
Who had sent these messages.
Michael Lippenstein, Professor of the Department of Magical Defense, ran a hand over his ring and growled low.
“…So you're challenging me.”
***
Afterward, once I had returned home, I opened the nightstand drawer beside my bed.
A drawer with nothing inside. When I removed its bottom, a hidden compartment revealed a notebook.
Click.
Under the desk lamp, the future of this world was written. The ‘Development Notebook’ I had written before. I began to read through it carefully from the beginning. And by the time I reached the last page, I closed it.
“…So I really didn’t read it.”
There wasn’t a single mention of ‘Black Candy’ in the notebook. But the episode had definitely appeared in the original novel.
I just hadn’t read it.
Why didn’t I read it, you ask? …Because I had no idea things would turn out like this.
How could I have known I’d get possessed into this novel?
If I had known, I would’ve read it all, of course.
I hadn’t read that part because it didn’t sit right with me.
The development was too unpredictable, it gave me a headache, and skipping it didn’t really hinder understanding of the next part anyway.
Still, I didn’t regret it. This was my choice, after all.
Mentions of things like Soma or Black Candy had come up in passing, sure.
To sum it up: Black Candy really was circulating among the students. And not even Michael could catch the culprit.
“Ariel’s message was clearly a trap.”
I couldn’t shake the feeling it was bait, designed to lure Michael.
No—actually, it flat-out encouraged that interpretation.
The message had been sent to Ariel and not Michael for that very reason.
Now the real question was settled.
“Then who… is trying to kill Michael?”
…That guy had made too many enemies.
Cornelia, for one. And me, too.
But he was still the protagonist. If he died, Grace would grieve. And I didn’t want to see her sad.
I was just curious.
In a novel without its protagonist—or rather, in a world without him⸺what would happen then?
***
“Professor Grace.”
“…Huh?”
“Would you care for a cup of tea? I received some good beans recently as a gift, and I thought it’d be nice to repay you for yesterday.”
Truth was, I’d been so grateful for the sandwich Grace gave me, I ended up splurging on some top-grade beans this morning. But I was worried. After receiving a summons from her family, Grace had looked somewhat dazed.
Still, it wasn’t worth making a fuss over.
She’d probably been called home to get nagged by her ‘grandmother.’
You know the type of nagging you hear once you’re Grace’s age.
When are you getting married, giving is nice and all but when are you going to save some money, I worry so much I can’t even die in peace, here’s a card—stop wearing that uniform all the time and get some normal clothes, the way you act is just like your mother, Daisy, come sew up the torn hem on my dress…
…Just imagining it gave me chills.
That old lady was totally the type to say all that and more.
I wanted to comfort Grace, but stepping in now would’ve just been a clumsy intrusion.
And besides, Grace always bounced back in time.
She had always endured that way.
As I set the steaming cup down on her desk, Grace acknowledged me with a nod.
“Thanks. I’ll enjoy it.”
“It’s nothing. By the way, do you know what kind of beans these are?”
“Hm?”
At my question, Grace gazed at the cup of coffee in her hands.
She looked so lovely that I barely suppressed a smile before continuing.
“These are magical beans, grown in Stockberry, which is known for its mana-rich soil.”
“Magical beans…?”
“Yes. They say that with a single sip, all your worries vanish, your mind finds peace, and you become happy enough to forget reality. That’s why they’re called magical.”
Like that time I saw a painting and called it ‘Billowing Landscape.’
It was just like that.
“How curious.”
“Try it and see.”
Grace lifted the cup to her lips and took a slow sip.
It’s the kind of thing, you know? If it’s expensive, it feels good for your body, and when you drink it, you think you feel better. Placebo effect and all that.
Even if it’s a lie, I’d tell it gladly if it could ease Grace’s heart.
“It smells wonderful. I feel calmer now. Thank you, Rohan.”
…By now, I could roughly tell what she was thinking just by looking at her face.
Eyes quietly gazing at me.
A faint smile, like mist over a lake.
…A lie, told entirely for my sake.
It was Grace, not me, who was lying—to comfort me.
“In that case, I’m glad, Professor.”
And this is why I can't help but love you.
***
The next morning at dawn.
Michael, Ariel, and I headed to his lecture room earlier than the appointed time.
Mana weighed down with fury trailed like wet mist from Michael’s hurried footsteps, his dignity forgotten.
He seemed quite angry.
Well, it wasn’t surprising—Michael wasn’t the type to remain calm after receiving such a direct challenge.
Then Michael spotted something and came to an abrupt stop.
“To show yourself so boldly… you’ve got guts.”
At the far end of the dark hallway, a silhouette wavered.
The figure looked bulky. Though short, its width was like two grown men merged together.
Fwoosh⸺!
A blaze roared forth as Michael cast a spell in an instant.
Balls of fire blazed through the lecture room windows in sequence.
As the flames reached the silhouette, I focused mana into my eyes and lunged forward.
“Assistant Professor?”
I outran Ariel’s voice and the flames. Just as I drew my sword and cloaked it in aura—Pang!
Even though it was an improvised spell, my arm stung from deflecting the fireball.
If I had taken that head-on, I wouldn’t have been unharmed either.
Michael, seeing his fireball redirected, dispelled the spell.
His voice echoed from the darkness.
“What the hell are you doing, Rohan?”
I sheathed my sword and turned to the figures huddled in the shadows.
“Seems we’ve made a mistake.”
I pressed a nearby switch, lighting up the hallway.
“Now explain what’s going on.”
The true identity of those ‘silhouettes’—“Sarah Watson.”—was the Rowdy Sisters.
Still, she was the leader.
Sarah clutched Gravitt and Rora tightly in her arms as she sobbed through trembling lips.
“A-a-a-assistant Professor……!”
***
We brought the Sisters up to the rooftop for questioning.
Thud!
Michael stomped down hard, startling Sarah mid-explanation.
“I-it’s the truth! That’s really all! We just wanted to help you professors…”
Their story went like this:
On the day of the incident, while waiting to get my signature, they happened to overhear something as the professors were being summoned.
But Michael wasn’t convinced.
“I personally designed the soundproofing for the conference room. It’s perfect. Are you saying donation students like you managed to eavesdrop?”
“Gravitt—Gravitt has really good ears!”
Michael’s eyes locked onto Gravitt.
Gravitt, who had long borne Michael’s disdain, trembled as she held her head.
Seeing her bunny-like hairstyle, Michael stroked his chin.
“A descendant of the Azel family, huh.”
“Y-you know our family…?”
“I know well of your family’s achievements. I saw them with my own eyes. If you inherited ‘his’ blood, then I suppose this isn’t impossible.”
Michael turned back to the door, speaking without even looking at them.
“Go back. This isn’t something ‘Problem Children’ like you should get involved in.”
…There he goes again, making enemies.
Hearing that word, Problem Child, even I felt my aura surge.
“Is it wrong for students to protect their school?”
It was impulsive.
“Those students are not Problem Children. They’re Springwind students, just like the rest of us. Even if they got in through donations, they’re still students we teach—Professor, you and I both.”
Michael’s unchanged attitude, even in the part of the story I hadn’t read, infuriated me.
“What does that term even mean? Does ‘Problem Child’ just mean they’re not to your liking, like Ellis?”
“A Problem Child… means ‘useless.’”
“Useless…?”
I chewed over that word. Over and over, just that one word.
All my life, I’d searched for my own ‘usefulness.’
Where I should be used, what I was born to be used for—I agonized over it.
And one day, I reached a conclusion.
“Truly useless—wouldn’t that be the spell of yours that Gravitt just neutralized?”
“What did you just say?”
“I’m saying this: even if these kids have no talent for swordsmanship or magic, they each have something they’re good at. So I ask Professor Lippenstein. Do those students still look like Problem Children to you?”
Michael stopped in his tracks and glanced back at the Sisters over his shoulder.
They flinched under his crooked gaze.
He replied.
“…Do as you please. But if you get in the way, I’ll throw you out the window immediately.”
At his begrudging permission, the Sisters’ faces lit up. They rushed at me and clung to my waist, huddling close.
Sarah, face buried in my back, whispered faintly.
“Thank you…”
…Yeah.