Chapter 5

And so, time flowed by.

By the time I turned twelve, my height had shot up and my build had become somewhat sturdy.

This was thanks to helping with the field work all this time. In truth, I could have made things much easier by using magic to enhance my physical strength, but my father had warned me, “It’s better not to take shortcuts with magic when it comes to manual labor, especially during a growth spurt.” So, I continued the farm work without relying on magic.

As a result, I managed to obtain a body that was quite robust for a twelve-year-old, at least by my original standards. I also liked to think my magic training and studies had reached a fairly impressive level.

I had even found a favorite book.

It was a thick volume my father had picked up for me in town. Between the leather cover and the sheer amount of information inside, it was clearly a high-end item titled “Fundamental Magic Research.” Apparently, after looking through various options, he chose this one because it was the thickest and most imposing of the lot.

I read that book so many times the leather on the cover began to fray. I read it, practiced the contents, and eventually mastered them.

True to its title, the book covered the very basics of magic. It examined things from the ground up, such as what kind of mental imagery was most advantageous when shaping magical power—a feature I hadn’t seen in any other books I’d read. When I asked my father, he said he had never read a book that went into such granular detail either.

Realizing I had found a diamond in the rough, I used it as my textbook and devoted myself to magical practice in between my chores in the fields. By now, I had almost the entire book memorized and could perform all the techniques within.

Above all else, I had found a purpose.

A goal for the future.

While researching this country, I felt a spark of genuine excitement. I had found what I wanted to become.

A detective.

In Shark, there was no such thing as a police organization that investigated crimes. Instead, the system utilized state-licensed detectives who investigated cases at the request of the government. In other words, detectives existed as public officials.

Surprisingly, this wasn’t unique to Shark; most other countries followed a similar system.

As for why things turned out this way, my personal analysis was that it was due to the existence of magic.

Magic was a subjective, sensory skill that varied greatly between individuals and couldn’t be quantified, yet it was a fundamental premise of society. Since magic was also used in crimes, it was likely difficult to identify a culprit based solely on the method of killing.

Consequently, the very idea of investigating crimes through a standardized, organizational method seemed to be an outlier in this world. There wasn’t even any discussion regarding the categorization of crimes or the systematization of investigative techniques.

The prevailing logic was that detectives should simply handle crimes on a case-by-case basis until they were solved.

From my perspective, nothing could be more wonderful.

It was exactly like the world of classic mystery novels.

Graduate from the military academy and become a great detective.

That became my goal.

And then, the day of my departure finally arrived.

“Here, take this.”

Before I set off, not only my parents and sister but even the villagers came to see me off.

As I was about to climb into the carriage—pulled by a six-legged horse, of course—my mother handed me a cloth bag.

“Hmm? What’s this?”

“A lunch box. Eat it while you’re in the carriage.”

“Ah, right. Got it. Thanks.”

With that, my belongings consisted of writing utensils, a change of clothes, my lunch, 1.8 million Gil—equivalent to half a year’s living expenses for the family that my parents had scraped together—and my now-tattered copy of “Fundamental Magic Research.”

“Van, there’s no need to worry. If things don’t work out, just come back home right away,” my father said with a worried expression.

“What are you talking about? Don’t jinx him!”

“Van is talented, unlike you. He’ll be fine.”

The local middle-aged men and women nearby immediately started badgering him.

“Bye-bye.”

Unlike the adults, Lina waved at me with a calm face.

“Yeah, bye-bye.”

I waved back.

She probably didn’t fully grasp that I was going somewhere far away yet. If so, that was fine.

Lina had turned eight.

She was growing into a beauty who took after our mother, with dazzling golden hair and a face that suggested a strong will. It was a shame I wouldn’t be able to see how my sister grew up for a while, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Well, I’m off then.”

With those words, I stepped into the carriage.

The carriage bound for the royal capital started to move.

“Hey, do your best!”

“Van, a kid like you could even become King!”

“May the blessings of Saint Fata be upon you!”

The villagers kept waving toward me the entire time.

I looked back at my family.

My mother, who was usually so stout-hearted, was trembling and weeping. My father was comforting her even as he watched me go. Lina was looking back and forth between her parents’ faces with a puzzled expression, seemingly unsure of what was happening.

To my father, my mother, my sister, and everyone in the village—I kept waving back from the carriage until they were out of sight.

Even after their figures shrunk and disappeared, I continued to wave for a while.

I have to become someone great.

The thought drifted through my mind.

I have to become successful, earn lots of money, and give back to my family and the village. They gave me a debt of gratitude that no amount of money could ever truly repay.

The carriage reached the royal capital after half a day.

After finishing the lunch my mother gave me, I thanked the driver and stepped down from the carriage.

I had heard stories, but this was the first time I had seen the capital with my own eyes.

Rows of stone buildings, painted in brilliant white, stretched out before me.

The main thoroughfares were broad and well-maintained, teeming with such a crush of people that numerous bazaars had squeezed into every available inch of space.

Even from a distance, several massive structures dominated the center of the city.

That imposing, rectangular block over there was likely the courthouse; I’d seen it in books. Further away stood the Royal Castle. It looked exactly like the “castles” I used to see in video games. And over that way was the military academy where I’d be taking my entrance exam.

Normally, someone coming to the Royal Capital from the countryside for the first time would be overwhelmed by this sight.

However, in my case, I possessed memories of my previous world. Compared to the sensation of looking at clusters of skyscrapers or massive domes, this wasn’t enough to actually rattle me.

That said, seeing rows of books lined up at the bazaars did make my heart skip a beat.

But no, I couldn’t.

Every bit of this money was for my living expenses after enrollment. I couldn’t afford to waste a single coin.

And so, I chanted “Form is emptiness, emptiness is form” to myself as I made my way down the street.

Since I only had to follow the main road to reach the military academy, I arrived without getting lost.

Hmph.

Up close, the exterior of the military academy was even more intimidating.

Contrary to the image of a “school,” it reminded me more of a prison.

For starters, the grounds were enclosed by high brick walls, and atop those walls ran pointed iron fences, seemingly designed to impale anyone who dared try to climb over.

There appeared to be only one entrance: a massive metal gate. Standing before it were five men who looked like sturdy gatekeepers, busy processing applicants.

It seemed most of the applicants were nobles; many of the boys and girls were dressed in flamboyant outfits made of high-quality crimson and gold fabric.

In the midst of that, my appearance—simple linen trousers and a shirt—stood out quite a bit.

But well, what did I care?

“Here you go,” I said, handing my examination slip to one of the gatekeepers while feeling a spark of nerves.

The gatekeeper, a rugged-looking man, took the slip in silence. He scrutinized me from head to toe with a sharp glare before handing the slip back.

I took that as a sign I could proceed.

I tentatively passed through the gates.

Sensing a gaze, I glanced back to see other applicants watching me with curiosity. It probably felt strange to them that someone who was clearly neither a noble nor wealthy was taking the exam.

Once past the gates, I saw a vast schoolyard and a school building that—once again—looked like a prison.

While the construction was solid and the white plaster made it look clean, the shape was a stark, flavorless rectangle. To top it off, every single window was barred.

Was it to prevent escapes? Regardless, it felt incredibly grim.

Still, I couldn’t just stand around observing. I hurried toward the exam venue.

As I rushed down a clean but cold white corridor, I heard voices.

“Still the same as ever, I see. You’re disgusting.”

“Heh, is this guy really like that?”

“I can’t believe it.”

I heard several remarks thick with derision.

What was that?

The exam hall was straight ahead, but it sounded like some trouble was brewing just past the right turn. I still had time before the exam started, so I decided to check it out.

Driven by pure curiosity, I turned right and immediately spotted a group of people who looked like fellow applicants huddled at the end of the hallway.

Who were those guys?

Rather than just “huddled,” it looked more like three people were surrounding one.

Judging by their clothes, the three doing the surrounding appeared to be high-ranking nobles. A group of slightly chubby boys who looked like typical spoiled brats were crowding someone.

I couldn’t see who was being cornered, but the tone of their voices was nasty, and three-on-one was never a good sign.

I decided to watch a little longer.

“Listen well, there isn’t a single place in this country for someone like—”

The boy who seemed to be the leader cut himself off as he noticed me. The other two followed his gaze.

The leader was short and pudgy, draped in flamboyant clothes. He had a round face with narrow, distorted eyes and a mouth that practically oozed a twisted personality. His hair was red and curly.

He seems to have inherited quite a few Dwarf traits, I analyzed.

“What do you want?” the boy asked, staring me down with an attitude he didn’t even bother to hide.

“Did you get lost? Get lost, commoner.”

He had clearly judged by my clothes that I wasn’t a noble or a man of means, spitting the words out with pure loathing.

Wow. He was like a textbook example of a nasty noble brat. I was more impressed than angry.

“No, I mean, what are you guys doing?” I asked.

“Didn’t you hear me?” The leader’s face flushed red. “I am Meijin. Bob Meijin. Haven’t you heard of me?”

I knew the name Meijin.

“The Meijin family… the high nobles who rule half of Shark’s port towns?”

“Hmph, so you do know.” Bob puffed out his chest proudly.

“So, what are you doing?”

When I asked again, Bob turned bright red with rage and lost his words.

“What’s with this guy? He’s crazy,” one of the lackeys grumbled.

“How dare you speak to Lord Bob like that?” the second one added.

“What? You got a problem?”

I immediately rolled up my sleeves. I had no intention of losing a fight to kids my own age—especially not guys like these.

“What is up with this guy…”

Just as one of the lackeys flinched and stepped back, seeing me move into a combat stance—

“Gwah!”

The other lackey collapsed, clutching his stomach.

Wait, what? I hadn’t even released a shockwave or anything.

I realized what had happened instantly.

The person who had been surrounded by the three of them—that person had delivered a powerful kick straight into the lackey’s gut.

“You!” Bob shouted.

“Shut up, you bastards…”

The person spoke in a high-pitched voice, sounding as though they were desperately holding back an explosion. Bob fell silent, seemingly intimidated.

“H-Hey, Lord Bob…”

“Tch… Let’s go.”

The lackey clutching his stomach, the uninjured one, and Bob all retreated, casting hateful glares back at me and the other person as they left.

Only I and that person remained.

Compared to the three who had left, this person’s clothes were slightly less flashy but still high-quality in a subtle way. They looked appropriate for the child of a mid-tier noble.

He was a slender, beautiful boy with shoulder-length hair. However, despite his beauty, his eyes were as sharp as a stray dog’s. His hair and eyes were as black as a wet crow’s feathers.

He wore slim pumps and a shirt and jacket that clung tightly to his frame. While the outfit looked easy to move in, it also looked as if it were constricting his body.

“Thank you.”

The boy thanked me in a high voice, though the sharpness in his eyes didn’t soften for a second.

Even though he was saying thanks, I had the fleeting illusion that he might bite me. The bloodlust he radiated made me shiver.

Perhaps my thought about his clothes being constricting was correct—maybe he wore them to keep his own violent impulses under control.

“Ah, no, it was nothing.”

“No, you helped. Are you an applicant?”

“Yeah.”

“Kirio.”

“Huh?”

“Kirio Rahura. Of the Rahura family—a minor noble house that could be blown away by a stiff breeze.”

Ah, his name.

“Van. Just Van, a commoner.”

“Van. Thank you.”

Kirio gave a slight nod without ever suppressing that killing intent and walked away.

“Ah, wait a second—”

I tried to stop him to ask what that was all about, but—

“What?”

Kirio looked back, and the sharpness in his bloodshot eyes and the near-exploding bloodlust stopped me cold.

“Uh… n-nothing.”

Crap.

I was completely intimidated and froze up, only able to manage that much.

Kirio glared at my frozen form for a moment, then eventually walked away as if nothing had happened.

I stayed there, unable to move as if paralyzed, until Kirio had completely disappeared from sight.

What the hell… that guy is way too scary.