30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

21 – 6. The status window opened on the first day of school. (5)

*

There is a term called confirmation bias. It refers to the tendency to selectively choose information that aligns with one’s opinions.

So, once you start suspecting, it becomes unbearable. Enrique’s situation was exactly like that now.

“That crazy guy looks dangerous.”

It had been three days. For three days, this guy had been lurking, chewing on information.

When entering the assassination group, Enrique had taught his disciples ‘patience.’ Whether it’s raining or insects are buzzing, stand still and observe the target.

It didn’t mean that in this sense.

Unlike himself, who was a vampire, this guy was human. Unlike her, who had no inherent hostility as long as she avoided sunlight or blessings, there were essential things in living for him. (Enrique, in fact, was an elder with resistance to sunlight.)

Basic things like sleep, meals, and rest.

Enrique squinted his eyes, observing Ivan and let out a deep sigh.

Taking care of someone his age, or rather, someone older. It’s malicious even for a joke at this level.

“Hey, disciple.”

“….”

Ivan stood there like a statue without a response. To the extent that he couldn’t even hear a voice from this distance.

From the movement of his pupils, it seemed like he was practicing some kind of concentration technique. He’s been at it for quite a while.

Enrique shrugged and put his hands in his sleeves.

-Clang. Taang—!

He fired the gun just as it was. A perfect skill with no momentum in his movement. A flawless shot aimed precisely at the back of the head, an unwavering trajectory.

Ivan tilted his head to dodge and leaped off the tree with an axe in hand.

“Enrique…?”

“Yeah, buddy. Let’s get out of here for now. Gunshots are heard; who knows what troublesome things might follow. Let’s head to your place.”

“It’s a bit tricky right now.”

“I’m in a lot of trouble. Elise will cry again if she finds out, damn it. Let’s go, and we can check out your orphanage too.”

Enrique firmly grabbed Ivan’s collar and pulled him along. Ivan glanced at her face and slid the axe into his hand.

The master was a flashy woman, slightly eccentric, but not someone to make frivolous remarks.

So, let’s find out what the urgent matter is. Ivan smoothly slipped out of Enrique’s grip and took the lead.

“It might be a bit dizzying.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go for now.”

*

A while later, Enrique set foot in Ivan’s orphanage.

Her first impression was confusion.

“Are you really raising an assassination squad?”

“It’s a misunderstanding.”

“Really…?”

Enrique looked around blankly. From very young ones to those about to graduate. Little ones strolling around, but there was no sound of footsteps.

Even in her organization, such discipline was hard to find. What the hell has this kid been up to? Enrique let out a disappointed laugh.

“If you have an education schedule, share it with me. Our kids can’t be raised like this.”

“Provide a routine lifestyle and a diet considering nutritional balance.”

“What crazy talk is this, you damn kid.”

Enrique chuckled and continued walking but stopped again.

“What’s that? A demon, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, well…! Do you know that if this gets exposed, we’re all dead, you and me, here, everywhere?”

“I know.”

Ivan shrugged. In the distance, Aipolos was instructing the children on something.

One of the kids ran up, punched Aipolos in the side, and triumphantly ran away. It was a remarkable feat, meaning they successfully ambushed a retired colonel who had rolled on the battlefield for over 30 years.

The child shouted “Hooray!” and ran away again, disappearing from sight in an instant.

“Everyone deserves a chance to live like a human.”

Enrique narrowed his eyes as he listened to Ivan’s words. Ironically, while the topic revolved around embracing vampires, students were preparing for an impending attack.

“We’re here.”

Ivan silently opened the door to the headmaster’s office. The office, with its drawn curtains, was dimly lit.

Enrique took a step forward but halted. Thin tripwires extended right in front of her, resembling spider webs caught in a single ray of sunlight filtering through the curtains.

“What is all this…?”

Even in the absence of light, there was an ambiance for vampires. It meant that blackout curtains couldn’t conceal the indoor space.

Tripwires could be dismissed as obsessive security measures, but this was different.

“Seriously, what kind of life have you been living?”

Ivan dismantled the tripwires without uttering a word. He touched the corners of the office, unraveling the traps hanging on each line, and adjusted the lighting in the corner.

Snap. The magical lights illuminated with a blue glow.

The room was in disarray.

*

Dozens of stacks of documents. Someone’s profile meticulously written in neat handwriting. Notes with names and a red thread connecting them.

In the midst of the interconnected web, there were inevitably inserted memos. Reading them revealed ordinary conversations.

Conversations that should not be ordinary. Someone observing and inferring tones, anticipated attitudes, and changes in nuances between the lines. A list of expected regional origins based on accents…

Even when tracking international criminals under the Scarlet Alert of the Intelligence Command, such efforts might not be exerted.

And this was against students.

Alone, without sleep for days.

Enrique’s face grew increasingly rigid. This situation, this appearance, these actions—everything was familiar to her.

This was a trace of some mental disorder, akin to a panic attack, perhaps even more prolonged.

Occasionally observed among those who had spent a long time on the battlefield. A rare type.

But as precarious as a time bomb… even now, there were drug addicts among the war veterans wandering the streets of Precianca in such a deteriorated state.

Enrique took a deep breath.

“Ivan.”

“Yes.”

“Sit down.”

Ivan’s face remained expressionless. Beneath that sparse beard, it seemed clear what kind of face he was making.

As if it were a matter of course, he felt no sense of strangeness at all.

“When did you last sleep?”

“… About a week ago, it seems.”

The last time he had slept, he was having a nightmare between the sheets of paper.

It was a truly dreadful feeling, and since then, he deliberately avoided sleep. It could be described as superhuman willpower.

However, Enrique looked at him with a bitter expression.

“Tell me. What’s going on? Until recently, I thought you were trying to protect the kids when Dmitry asked you to watch over them.”

It was only natural to think so, as he seemed to be chasing only the party members. And that was a grateful thing. It meant that even after retirement, he was genuinely concerned about the children to the point of taking action.

But the traces here suggested otherwise.

“Who are you trying to catch? The terrorists from Jansk University?”

“No.”

“Tell me. Just be honest. By now, I should know. There’s really nothing dirty about your words. Just from the beginning, disciple.”

Enrique tightly held Ivan’s hand and looked into his eyes.

For someone who had lived for over a century, there was as much persuasiveness as the weight of the years.

Ivan, after meeting her earnest eyes, sighed.

A grand confession followed.

*

Suppose, just for the sake of argument, there is such a person.

Someone who left the place they lived and the people they knew, dropped into a completely new world, leaving behind everything they were familiar with.

So, for instance…

It’s as if someone stayed up all night, engrossed in a novel they loved, and fell asleep, only to find themselves dropped into the world of that novel in their dreams.

No matter how hard they try, the dream doesn’t end, and the world still feels like the story in the novel.

Not wanting to die or wanting to go back. They try everything they can. Fortunately, they had the talent to adapt and live well.

After experiencing everything up to the last page of the novel, this person might think.

– Why doesn’t it end?

Maybe there are other conditions. If suicide is the most likely solution, they consider it and observe the situation for a few years.

In the midst of this, someone pops up.

Probably a fellow outsider from the same hometown.

Now, this person thinks.

Is this world truly nothing more than a world in a novel? Were all the experiences I’ve had merely the prologue of a novel? Could my name be on one page of the novel that person read?

If it is, then, if that’s the case.

What will my final moments look like? Tragedy? Comedy? No, before that.

Am I nothing more than a prelude to my life and me in a single line of history? Just a character frozen on the pages of a story yet to unfold.

From Noble mtl dot com

Such thoughts.

More and more disorganized. But with a gaze full of certainty. He continued, looking straight at his mentor.

With as much kindness as possible, enough to make even a pre-modern stickler understand.

*

“So… Let’s summarize… You’re actually a possessed person.”

“Yeah.”

“And I recently confirmed that there’s one more guy.”

“Yeah.”

“And I have to kill that guy.”

“…Yeah.”

“Damn, disciple, that’s a really logical conclusion.”

Enrique let out a deep sigh and splashed his face with dry water. She leaned against the sofa and gazed at the ceiling for a moment.

Damn, there were even notes on the ceiling. It’s curious how they were stuck up there.

“There’s a lot I want to say, but I should apologize first. I thought you were chasing me to the Devil’s Tower.”

Since they had spent so much time together, it seemed so natural for him to assume that she had also climbed the tower with him.

It was Enrique’s mistake. In fact, it was everyone’s mistake. It was meaningless to justify not knowing this guy’s condition. Leaving him as a disciple and neglecting him was no different.

“The Devil’s Tower?”

“Yeah. Strangely, we all thought we were in the same party, but when you think about it, we weren’t. It wasn’t something I bothered mentioning because I thought everyone knew. But now that I think about it, it wasn’t the case.”

Enrique lifted his head after a brief pause.

“Max isn’t a person from Tilles.”

“Does that mean he’s of a different nationality? But…”

“No. Listen to me first. Max… Maximilian. That guy is not from this world.”

Enrique looked directly into Ivan’s eyes and said each word as if he were engraving them into his mind.

“You’re not the first. And certainly not the last.”

*

Though it was convenient to refer to him as a ‘possessed person’ following his words.

More precisely, these were not possessed individuals but rather ‘those who were drawn.’

So, when the world tilted a bit, they would pop up here and there, one or two at a time.

It wasn’t a common occurrence, but at least a couple would always emerge over a century.

In a chaotic world, like a seasoning trying to add flavor, they would casually appear, commit ‘something,’ and vanish.

Enrique knew such individuals. He had even seen some in person.

Maximilian. He was one of those individuals.

Ordinarily yearning for his hometown but, impressively, heading towards the battlefield.

And so, even the vampire herself followed in his footsteps. He was that kind of person. Standing in front of everyone, smiling, making everyone follow.

A hero, a warrior, a demon slayer, and just an ordinary man. A stranger who remained lonely until the end. Now, disappeared.

Enrique remembered that man in that way.

The brave stranger who drew his sword to protect a common girl who had picked him up in Tilles. A brave outsider.

“So, we don’t say a hero is ‘born.’ We say they ‘appear.'”

*