“Classmate, first-year student Vinny Facilis, registering for tomorrow’s exploration of the Marsmo secret realm.” Vinny had queued all afternoon; at last it was his turn. He handed his student ID to the Student Council member at the registration desk.

“Eh—eh? Vinny? It’s actually you??” Perks of working in the Student Council: for Academy-run events, the person at the desk is very likely someone you know.

Vinny happened upon a fellow first-year who also served in the Council—though the guy’s competence clearly outstripped Vinny’s by a lot. In just one term he had earned the favor of many upperclassmen, so naturally his workload had grown; they intended to cultivate him.

As for Vinny... let’s just say his work ability still needed improvement.

“Yeah, it’s me. I want to join tomorrow’s exploration. Is that okay?” Vinny said.

“Of course, absolutely. Vinny, you happen to qualify for this one.” The colleague nodded. They weren’t close, but they did know each other; under the same roof you see each other all the time.

“‘Happen to qualify’?” Vinny was surprised. If he remembered right, this exploration wasn’t supposed to have a threshold, right??

“Yes. The Academy later added an extra provision. First-years can still participate, but with a restriction: you must currently rank within the top fifty of the year.”

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re twenty-third in the first year.” The Student Council member flipped through Vinny’s file with practiced ease. “That rank didn’t change across last term’s practical and written exams, which means your finals were solid and you held your position. So this term you’re eligible for Marsmo’s secret-realm exploration.”

“I see.” Vinny figured his solid finals were largely thanks to the practical exam pulling his score way up. As for his written exam... he had a pretty good idea how that went. He did put in the effort, but there was no way it produced anything dramatic. Being able to hold rank was already a blessing.

The colleague finished the paperwork and handed Vinny a token etched with a number.

“Keep this safe, Vinny. This is your token—your only lifeline in the exploration. You absolutely cannot lose it. Understand?” The Student Council member’s tone was solemn as he passed it over. “Even if you forget your weapon that day, you can’t forget this. We do token checks at the gate, anyway.”

Vinny glanced at the number on his token: fifteen.

“That’s your team number. This secret realm is entered in teams—three per group. You’ll learn who your teammates are tomorrow.” The Student Council member explained it patiently despite the long line—there was at least some acquaintance between them, after all.

“Got it, thanks.” Token in hand, Vinny thanked him and left.

The other guy still had work to do. Vinny, on the other hand, mostly coasted in the Student Council—and it wasn’t even his shift today.

Holding the token, Vinny started for the dorm, then seemed to think of something and muttered, “Forget it. I’m sick of eating at home. I’ll splurge for once today.”

With that, he headed to Commercial Street and chose a restaurant popular with the ordinary student crowd.

Maybe it was just late; the place was nearly empty.

Vinny took a corner seat, told the owner to bring him a bowl of tomato beef noodles, and then stepped away. As if he found it cumbersome to keep the token on him, he left it on the chair.

It was a corner table, and there weren’t many people around; sightlines were blocked. No one would notice.

Feeling perfectly at ease, he went to the restroom.

During that window, someone entered the shop. He glanced at the counter, found no one there or inside the dining area, then snuck to Vinny’s corner. He found the token Vinny had left on the chair.

He looked around again, made sure no one was nearby, pocketed the token with a casual air—and placed a flawless-looking token on the chair in its place.

Smooth as silk. No one noticed.

He turned to leave. The moment he stepped through the door—just as he thought he’d succeeded and was inwardly sneering at Vinny for being a hopelessly careless idiot—a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Classmate, that’s a criminal act. Come on—turn yourself in with yours truly.”

“?!” The boy nearly yelped. He whipped around and found a blue-haired youth’s face inches from his own.

“Move. We’re going to confess.” Vinny clamped the student’s hand and hauled him toward the Student Council Disciplinary Committee.

“W-wait—hold on!” Of course the boy wasn’t going to sit and wait for doom. He struggled to wrench free of Vinny’s grip.

“What are you doing?! What confession? What are you talking about? Don’t spout nonsense no one understands—or I’ll report you for laying hands on a classmate!”

“Oh? Playing the victim first, are we?” Vinny chuckled. “Actually, wait—maybe I’m the villain here? No... that doesn’t sound right, either.”

“My guy, which street outfit did you learn from? With tracking skills like yours, you dare tail people? You blew your cover the moment you walked out of the registration hall behind me, you know that?” Vinny’s tone turned cutting.

“Your footsteps never quieted down, your eyes kept darting, and you kept acting oh-so-casual—trying to look ‘natural.’ The more you lack it, the harder you overact it, huh? It’s so forced. Ever heard of an actor’s basic self-cultivation?” After spending so much time with Aesphyra, and transforming into Vanessa so often, Vinny had picked up a thing or two.

“W-what are you even talking about?! I don’t understand!” The boy was visibly rattled.

“Don’t get it? That’s fine. We’ll head to the Disciplinary Committee—you’ll have plenty of time to understand there.” Vinny tugged him along.

“And bring your piece of scrap wood. Think carefully about what you’re going to say. You’d better figure out how you’ll justify yourself—and who put you up to it. Do you even realize what you were doing?” Vinny lifted the fake token in his hand.

“Y-you have no proof! You’re slandering me out of thin air!”

“Proof? Isn’t the proof the real token you’ve got on you? Heh. Classmate, need anything else? You think the Disciplinary Committee can’t tell real from fake?” Vinny sneered.

“That was—you shoved it on me from behind to frame me!” The boy gritted his teeth and pretended righteous.

“Heh. You didn’t really think I hadn’t anticipated you’d say that, did you?” Vinny’s smile went cold as he drew out a Recording Stone. “When you swapped the tokens just now, you didn’t notice what was on the other chair, did you?”

“Everything you did was recorded by my Recording Stone. From start to finish.” Watching the color drain from the boy’s face, Vinny enunciated each word.

In that moment, the bully aura hit maximum.

“I— I! ......” The student clearly had no experience with scenes like this; he was tongue-tied.

“L-let go of me. I... I didn’t do anything...”

“Didn’t do anything?” Vinny repeated flatly, then, after a beat of silence, grabbed the boy by the front and slammed him against the wall.

“Do you even know what you’re saying?”

‘Didn’t do anything’? If yours truly hadn’t caught you, swapping that token was tantamount to taking a life.”

“I won’t point a finger at any one person—whoever you hurt would be the same. Do you feel not one shred of guilt?” Cold flooded Vinny’s ice-blue eyes. “What right do you have to strip someone of their life? Someone you don’t even know?”

“I... it was just a joke.” Cowed by Vinny’s presence, the boy trembled and tried to defend himself.

“A joke? You think this is a joke? As a student of Carillian Academy, you know exactly how dangerous secret realms are—especially one from an unknown civilization. You’re not stupid. You’re just plain mean.”

“Move. Come turn yourself in with yours truly.” Vinny didn’t waste breath. This was the kind of thing he hated most. He yanked the kid by the sleeve.

“W-wait! Give me a chance—please! I... I really just had a moment of madness! ......”

“‘A moment of madness’? Looks to me like your courage swelled with malice.” Vinny’s voice went cold. “I don’t know about anything else. I only know that if scum like you aren’t removed, good people get hurt.”

“Cut the crap. I’m being patient with you right now—don’t wear that patience out. One more word and I won’t be polite.” The aura of someone who’d stepped out of blood and fire crushed the boy flat.

He didn’t dare talk back. Shaking, stammering, he let Vinny drag him to the Disciplinary Committee.

“What happened?” In the committee’s main hall, a bespectacled member pushed her glasses up as the two came in tussling.

From the looks of it, Vinny was utterly dominant; the boy he’d seized was cringing. No one knew what had happened yet.

“Upperclasswoman, here’s what happened.” Vinny laid out the whole story.

As she listened, the committee member’s expression grew steadily more severe.

“Classmate, is this how it went?” She fixed the boy with a questioning stare.

“I— I didn’t! He made it up!” Of course he wouldn’t admit it.

“So you won’t tell the truth even at the gallows. Then why is my token in your pocket?” Vinny pressed.

“Because—you tried to plant it on me!” He clung to the lie. He knew that if he admitted it, even the lightest punishment would be expulsion.

“Here we go again. Tell it to my Recording Stone.” Vinny pulled it out.

“What’s going on?” A familiar voice cut in.

Vinny and the committee members turned toward it.

“Isatia?” Vinny recognized the black-haired beauty on duty.

“Leader?” the other committee members echoed.

Huh? Leader??

Vinny gave Isatia Lanteville a curious look. As expected of a fated heroine—one term in and she was already a team leader in the Disciplinary Committee.

“Vinny?” Isatia walked over and, of course, recognized him at a glance.

“What happened?” She looked at Vinny, then at the male student in his grip.

“Here’s what happened.” Vinny retold the sequence and handed over the Recording Stone.

After watching it, Isatia immediately took a form and began filling it out.

“Leader, should we open an investigation?” Having seen the whole thing, the other committee members knew it was a slam dunk—but they still asked.

“Investigation? We can skip the process. Caught with the goods in hand. Handle it directly.” Isatia’s face didn’t flicker.

“Ah—ah?!” Hearing that he was about to be processed, the boy’s knees nearly buckled.

“What’s your name?” Isatia pulled up a chair, sat, crossed her black-stockinged legs—pressure radiated.

For an instant, Vinny felt like Isatia had ascended the throne early. The way she looked at people was the way the Empress of the Tyrel Empire might gaze at insects slated to be swept aside. The aura of a ruler crashed down.

Among the heroines, if anyone had the bearing of a sovereign, Isatia was second and no one dared claim first.

Just a few simple words, and the boy’s courage shattered—like a captured enemy soldier hauled before the emperor.

“I— I, I, I...”

“We’ll find out sooner or later. Don’t talk, and I’ll add obstruction of law enforcement—deliberately increasing our workload.” Isatia folded her arms, voice cold.

“I—I’m Wood!” he blurted.

“Which class? Entry rank? Current rank? Student ID number? Serial? All of it.” Isatia’s tone was absolute command.

Wood had never seen anything like this. He spilled everything.

“Then why frame Vinny? What’s your motive? According to Vinny, you two don’t know each other.” Isatia kept her legs crossed. Her violet gaze held imperial contempt as she pressed on.

“I... I...” A flicker of struggle crossed Wood’s eyes; then he stiffened. “I can’t stand him. He’s a thug. Dying in an unknown secret realm would be the best outcome!”

“No. You’re trying to bluff me.” Who was Isatia? She didn’t buy it for a second. Those violet eyes locked onto Wood as if nothing hidden could escape them, reading him at a glance.

“Your eyes just now, your micro-expressions, your behavioral logic—they all tell me this is not why you tried to murder Vinny.”

“Maybe that’s what you’d like to think, but logically it can’t be your motive. Someone put you up to it. Didn’t they?” Isatia’s voice was rich with implication.

“I— I! Th-that—didn’t happen!” As if she’d punctured his secret, Wood began to panic.

“Wood—no, Wood—you’d better think before you speak.” Isatia leaned back slightly, forcing him into the posture of a mere onlooker craning up at someone above. The pressure was immense.

“If you think this only ends with losing your student status and getting expelled, you’re very, very wrong.”

“You don’t seem to grasp this, so let me educate you. Outside of special circumstances, in any human nation, killing is punished by death.” Isatia looked down at him from on high. “Attempted murder is the same.”

“What you just did falls squarely under attempted murder.”

“If you’re of the Kingdom of Camella, I’m happy to hand you to Mirexia. Trust me—she won’t play favorites. She might even be harsher than I am. If you’re of the Tyrel Empire, that’s even easier.” The black-haired, violet-eyed royal spoke with a sweep-the-world arrogance.

“We won’t need the Empire’s High Justiciar. I can issue the final judgment myself right now: strip you of your Carillian Academy status, deport you, and have you thrown into prison the moment you arrive.”

“Thud!” Wood’s legs gave out and he dropped to the floor. Staring up into those eyes, he babbled in terror.