It had become customary at this point that the ol' crock Boucher would start his classes by dropping something heavy on the wooden lectern before taking attendance. Whether it'd be the 800 something page textbook for his advanced magical theory class, the back of the blackboard eraser, or on really bad days, his fist.

  Nobody had ever known for certain what goes on in his daily life for him to constantly wore that frown on his face, nor did anyone particularly care. For these kids had been unknowingly groomed by their environment to view everything with a stupidly simple mindset. People are either right or wrong, either heroes or villains.

  It was a complete mockery to education to even host an academy like this. One that existed to reinforce this notion that life is a play where everyone needs to act their respective part.

  There are heroes,

  "Fiona, I need you to accompany me after classes today."

  "I'm sorry your highness, but I already promised to help out at the orphanage today."

  "I'll lend you my aid then. Honestly... Don't you see that we have more pressing matters to attend to?"

  People who could easily and unknowingly charm others with their heart of gold and that sickeningly infectious smile. Bringing together people from different walks of life akin to honey to a horde of ants.

  On the other end...

  "Ms. Marchal, you're 10 seconds late," Boucher turned towards the girl who had made her entrance by slamming the lecture theater door opened. "And you are familiar with my stance on tardiness, correct?"

  She nodded weakly as he marked a cross on the attendance list and then urged her to take a seat.

  Her walk towards her usual spot at the back was filled with muffled snickers and spiteful whispers. Her uniform and flowing golden locks had a light but noticeable dusting of dirt, and her fair skin was marred with small cuts.

  "Where was I... Mr. Pinto!"

  Ah... This was the part I hated the most. One would think after almost half a semester of shouting my name and seeing little to no improvements whatsoever, he'd stop doing it altogether and just cut straight to the part where he smacked the side of my head with a ruler already.

  "Ouch!"

  "Do I have to remind you every single morning Mr. Pinto?"

  "Hmm... Try hitting a little harder— Ouch! You monster, I said a little!"

  The scene was always a spectacle every morning, no matter who was teaching it would always be the same. Pretend to doze off on the desk with my arms cradling my head and wait for the punishment. Maybe even throw in a little comment in the end every now and again.

  The act has been done so many times by now that the exaggerated way I would jolt upright had been ingrained into muscle memory. And I've even memorized the sound of each teacher's step for fun while doing it.

  And all that effort for a few giggles, for this was my self-appointed role; the hill I chose to die on. The no good class idiot, the joker.

  Because the only fate that awaited people like me was to be exploited for our meager skills until we were deemed useless by those standing atop that stage. And all the while foolishly dreaming that we'd make it there someday alongside the greats.

  Just like back there...

  So I'm going to save myself the trouble and be discarded early on. Because as a wise man once said, don't be good at something you don't wanna do.

  "Alright, today we are—"

  The entire room raised their heads, even the ones who usually didn't pay attention to his classes. It was unusual of him to suddenly pause mid lecture, so the room then collectively turned their heads to follow his gaze towards the front entrance where a member of faculty was peeking her head through the small opened gap between the doors.

  She had a look that screamed she didn't want to be here, but also that whatever this was was urgent enough to for her to disrupt his class.

  He sighed and made his way to her, albeit reluctantly.

  "I'll be back in a second. In the meantime, open up chapter four in your textbook."

  Most of us did as instructed, but those sitting at the front tried to sneak a few glances or overhear the conversation happening outside.

  And their efforts were not for naught apparently. For the fruits of their labor were soon passed around through whispers from one row to the next.

  "New student."

  "This time of year?"

  "Boy or girl?"

  "Uhh... Boy or girl?"

  "Don't look at me, nobody mentioned anything about that—"

  "Settle down!"

  Mr. Boucher's booming voice suddenly roared across the room and off the walls, startling most students to sit upright, their gazes locked to the front. The space immediately grew silent save the faint remnants of his echoed instruction.

  "We are going to have a new student joining us starting today. Come on in," he gestured towards the new face on the other side of the door.

  The new student immediately caught everyone's attention as she walked in. Messy dark brown locks and eyes of the same color beneath a pair of round glasses. A boring look in a world dominated with multicolored hair and eyes, but I suppose that's why it's so appealing to these people.

  "Ms. Tojou hails from the eastern continent. I can see you all are very curious, but save the questions for when we are finished with today's lecture. And Ms. Tojou, feel free to take any of the empty seats, that is all."

  The new girl bow down slightly before him before quietly climbing up the stairs to a quiet row in the back, just on the opposite end of Alicia Marchal and a few rows behind me.

  And some might call it superstition, but after being raised in a house where all eyes were trained at me up till a certain point, I have a good knack at telling when someone's staring at me. Especially if they're doing it so intently.

  Her sudden transfer was suspicious after all. Was it my family who sent her? It was a stretch but that would certainly explained the sudden interest.

  No, calm down. I'm thinking about this too deeply.

  They've already shown that they didn't want anything to do with me anymore apart from the basic necessities. Tuition money and a home to go back to but that's pretty much it. Unless they wanted to cut that out too, but that wouldn't make much sense.

  Argh, whatever! It's probably just my stupid cowlick that's an eyesore. Yeah, that's it!

  ??????

  No matter which angle I look at him from, there was nothing that would distinguish him from any other kid here. Certainly no trace that would scream "Earthling" apart from the fact that he's just a plain human boy.

  This reincarnation stuff is difficult to wrap my head around. And somehow just because he experienced that it automatically makes him a hero?

  But that's my job to figure out, wasn't it? To peel his layers one by one to discover the hidden powers within, and shape him into the hero this world needs. And Mika's idea for that was to introduce a damn love interest to propel him forward of all things. And I didn't want to think about the moral implications of meddling with a teenager's love life, but it was a part of my job so...

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Hopefully they don't take it to heart...?

  In the meantime, I'd still need to play the part of the average student. Pick a corner, sit through the lecture quietly, and don't make a scene. That last point I really had to drive home over and over like a mantra.

  Was it unnecessary? Probably. Because Mika had suggested to lower the number of spirits that'd be tagging along, made it easier to keep them in check. And one extremely difficult exchange later, I now only had Caldwell and Evelynn with me while the rest stayed with Mika.

  I knew Caldwell would be able to stay calm, but Evelynn was more of a gamble. She was a scholar and understood how to conduct herself in an orderly manner during a lecture, but at the same time, that was also the issue.

  Because for all the titles she had accumulated in her life—A once-in-a-lifetime genius, the witch of cinders, and so on—at her core, she was a true scholar. Her entire job was to question and challenge the precedent set by those that came before and even after her.

  Too many times I've seen her try to correct the magical formula of a renown wizard, and those stupid debates whether to conjure the frames or the characters first when creating a magic circle. So to see her actually pay attention to the lecture instead of trying to disrupt it every few minutes was nice.

  "...So magic works the same in this world..."

  Often she would either mused to herself or hummed in agreement whenever the lecturer brought up a new point. And I found myself focusing more on her than the lecture, because in between those small bursts of agreement, she would unknowingly murmured out a few more details to the theories being presented.

  "...Yes, because an odd-sided diagram is unstable, and its benefits doesn't outweigh its risks..."

  And her words were the only thing that got through to my brain for the entirety of the lecture.

  Once it was over, Zefer immediately stood up and head for the exit. I planned to trailed him from behind or even find some excuse to tag along, but the other students got to me first and formed a circle around me to... satiate their curiosity.

  "What's the eastern continent like?"

  "I heard from my dad that the kingdoms there are constantly at war, is that true?"

  "Are the dishes there just as exotic as they say?"

  None of my words could even get through these barrage of questions, and neither did I know how to answer any of them without being completely false.

  [Just make up an excuse]

  [We're not trying to cozy up to any particular clique here]

  [Just be a dick about it and go]

  The words suddenly appeared on the lens, and it seemed that it was only visible from my end.

  Just make up an excuse, so Mika said... Like that was supposed to be easy. And didn't he once try to consider the ramifications of having no tact in a school of elite kids? Or that I would be the one to bear the brunt of their bullying if it came down to it?

  Why the hell do I even need to ask? Of course not...

  "U-umm... I'm still feeling a bit drowsy from my travels so I'm sorry if I'm not super chatty right now. So can you all just..."

  They weren't paying attention to a single word I've just said. Their eyes gleaming with amazement as their attention lay on the fact that I could speak their language fluently.

  "So fluent!"

  "How long have you learned our language?"

  This was starting to get overwhelming. Evelynn was ready to jump in and clear a path through a few scalding remarks no doubt, but luckily Caldwell was there to hold her back. Not very effective however, as she managed to broke free of her restraint and possessed my body anyways.

  "Alright, listen here—mmphh! hmm!"

  Caldwell managed to recover quickly and took control of my arms to shut her up.

  "Remember the mission!"

  I think we've past the point to care about that now. What you both were doing with my body and how that made me look in front of these students right now is attention-seeking enough.

  "Hey..." A small voice cut through the commotion and reached my ears. "They're a handful, aren't they? I can help you get out of here if you'd like."

  Caldwell managed to yank Evelynn out of my body and as soon I got my bearings back, I immediately nodded in response to the unknown person.

  "Everyone! Can you please move out?" The voice was louder now, and a small girl pushed through the encirclement and towards me. She flashed a reassuring smile before turning around to address the crowd. "Please? Mr. Boucher asked me to give her a tour of campus."

  They all listened to her, some even gave a courteous bow before clearing a path for both of us. She turned back to me and silently gestured towards the door, then I followed her in tow.

  "Thank you," I said once we stepped into the hallways.

  "Don't mention it. I'm familiar with how curious everyone here can be, especially when it comes to something or someone unfamiliar to them."

  That short stature...

  "Are you a dwarf?" I blurted without consideration. "I-I'm sorry. Didn't mean to assume—"

  "No, you guessed right. And the questioning lasted a few months for me, so yours should last the same, or maybe even longer, who knows? The eastern continent is shrouded in more mystery than dwarven culture after all."

  "I don't know how to repay you..."

  "For something as simple as that? I don't think you owe me anything. But you're one of the very few students here that I can relate to—adjusting to a whole new culture and all—so I'd appreciate it if we can... keep in touch? I'm Abby, by the way. Abigail Noir, but people just call me Abby, if you couldn't tell already."

  She offered her hand in greeting and I hesitated to accept it. And that hesitance was clear as day apparently, even through the small camera embedded in the rim of the glasses. Because a message from Mika then popped up.

  [Geez, don't overthink it]

  [I never said you can't have any friends, just don't get caught up in their little groups and their petty drama]

  [Sides, you need to learn the "unwritten" rules of this school one way or another]

  With my worries out of the way, I firmly gripped her hand and lightly shook it. I told her my full name and we then agree to ditch the formalities and refer to one another on a first-name basis.

  "Umm... You mentioned giving a tour earlier?"

  "Oh, that was just a lie that I came up with on the spot. But I don't mind giving you one if you're willing?"

  "I'd appreciate that, yeah."

  We had a limited set of time before our next class started, so she only gave me a brief run down of the main campus where most of the theoretical classes took place. There wasn't much to be seen, only a handful of lecture theaters, the auditorium, and small private rooms that were free to be booked.

  "But good luck finding an open one hour slot. Usually, they're immediately taken for the entire week by the smaller, more obscure clubs."

  And sure enough, they had even put up plaques by the door to unofficially stake their claims on the room. And it wasn't simply one or two clubs that had done it, out of the 10 private rooms we passed by on the third floor, 7 doors had a some sort of sign near them.

  [Don't even think about it]

  Mika suddenly messaged as I stared at the "Occult Research" sign for a few seconds longer than it takes to read it.

  "Don't worry," I wanted to say. A passing curiosity was all it was.

  The tour resumed for just a while before it ended, but I still walked alongside Abby as we passed the time until our next class.

  She was a natural chatter. Carrying the brunt of the conversation while my mind was pre-occupied with making mental notes about point of interests that I wanted to check out later on. Occasionally, she would ask a question and was happy enough to be given a simple yes or no for an answer.

  "A sizeable number of demi-humans attends this academy as well, huh?" I asked as I spotted a few groups consisting of students of different races. "They all seem to get along."

  Harmony between the races was considered to be impossible back in Mistveil. And while they learned not to encroach on each other's territory or business, it was simply a legality, and one built on histories of bloodshed. And though the killings might have lessened to an extent, the scar and hatred was commonly thought to be irreversible.

  "They sure do..."

  I could hear how her voice grew uncharacteristically quieter, with a melancholic undertone. The corner of her lips trembled as she tried to keep up her smile. Those were usually the telltale signs attributed to an emotion I was acutely familiar with: regret.

  "Hey..."

  I wanted to reach out—like I had to that salaryman ghost—but this was different. She was here, tangible, and was still able to affect the world around her. She wasn't desperate for any help, so I wouldn't force it out of her.

  "I-it's nothing, don't sweat it. What were you about to say again?"

  Though it wasn't immediate, her mood improved until she returned to her talkative, cheery self.

  "You're definitely going to be pestered to death about this eventually, but I am curious about which club you're going to join."

  "It's not mandatory here, is it?"

  "Not formally, no. But it's recommended you choose one. We can only leave campus on weekends after all, and it's a great way to spend your time. Though this year it has stray away from simply being a fun leisure to something a bit more political."

  From her expression alone—scrunched up from embarrassment—it sounded like something I shouldn't, and personally didn't want to get involved with. But wasn't this what Mika sent me here to do? To understand the nuances surrounding school?

  I might steer clear away from them, but who's to say they wouldn't find some way to roped me in? Or worse, Zefer? At the very least, if I do have to cross that bridge someday, I need to have everything that is to know about this whole mess.

  "Can you elaborate more on that?"

  "Ah, you're a foreigner, so you might've not noticed the crown prince enrolling in the same program as us. We even got assigned to the same classes."

  So there's more to him than the briefing suggested. The crown prince of Feuille, Vincent III; Mika only told me to stay clear of the guy and his cronies. Pretty self explanatory and I didn't think much of it after that. Working on the assumption that these guys were a set aiming for a shared goal.

  But the way she described the situation left an unsettling feeling in my stomach, as if there was a hidden bout beneath all the smiles and laughter.

  "As a foreigner, it shouldn't concern you really. But I'd still suggest the utmost caution. The leader themselves may be uninterested, but their followers are rabid and would go to any lengths to garner even one more support for their factions."

  "So try to avoid certain clubs or..." I looked back to the many wooden plaques we passed by. "Find a legitimate excuse to reject their offer."

  Abby nodded at my assumption.

  "a couple of seniors from the Merchant's Hub that I am acquainted with had moved to smaller clubs after it started leaning more into this whole faction war thing. It used to be a club dedicated on bringing in goods from outside campus until Marco showed up. His father is the guild master of the Feuille's Traders' Guild you see."

  "Any other clubs I should steer clear of?"

  "The Student Press, Swordbearers' Oath and Playwright's Retreat. Though I should also mention that the latter two's influence have begun to bleed into other combat or art related clubs respectively. And... Oh! Especially avoid the Fraternity of Mystic Arts. That's the one the crown prince had dug his nails into."

  The safest bet was probably to join some small club that cared very little about attendance. There should be an abundant of those, but Mika had a different idea.

  [Don't make any hasty decisions]

  [Just put a pin in it for now]

  [Who knows, we might be able to use them to our advantage later on]