Chapter 120

The one who raised the death flag on me was Dawson Carl Vigo, the head of the Warehouse Guild.

A man with an average-looking face, aside from being scrawny with protruding cheekbones.

At a glance, he didn’t give off any “this guy’s definitely a killer” kind of vibe… but then again, if you judged people by their faces, even Winter Winslet would seem pretty normal.

You really can’t tell what a person’s like just by their appearance.

I called out his name.

“Guildmaster Dawson.”

“Yes?”

“What’s with the way you’re looking at me?”

“……?”

Caught off guard, Dawson rolled his eyes in confusion and asked,

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No. But I don’t like your face.”

“I-I’ll fix it.”

And how exactly are you going to fix that?

I was trying to provoke a reaction and see if he’d slip up somehow but got nothing.

Dawson’s demeanor was that of a merchant sucking up to a successful noble.

Then what the hell is this guy doing raising a death flag on me?

“Guildmaster, do you know me?”

“Of course I do. You’re Professor Winslet, quite renowned at the Academy…”

“Have you ever seen me before?”

“This is my first time meeting you in person, Professor.”

Even someone seeing me for the first time today might want to kill me.

That’s the kind of man Winter Winslet is.

That’s who I am.

Of course, I wasn’t about to take the words of someone who raised a death flag at face value.

So I decided to keep Guildmaster Dawson under watch, right at the edge of suspicion.

No need to get worked up just yet.

After all, death flags are a regular part of life at the Academy.

Raising a death flag only means there’s a possibility he might try to kill me.

It doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to break into my room with a knife and slit my throat tonight.

“Well, I think that’s enough introductions. Isn’t it almost lunchtime? I know a good place. We could move there and continue our conversation.”

“Oh, that sounds great. Where would you like us to take you, Professor?”

“If the weather were nicer, I would’ve arranged a river cruise. But as you can see, the rain’s coming down hard. On days like this, it’s not a bad idea to have a drink indoors while watching some dancing girls.”

“Splendid idea. I’ve also heard Professor Winslet is quite… energetic, shall we say? Hehehe. We’ll be sure to take you somewhere refreshing.”

These three local big shots of Bluefields were the ones who’d contacted the Academy through the harbor supervisor to request volunteer support.

So it was only natural that they were now persistently encouraging me to slack off.

It could’ve been an attempt to build personal connections,

Or maybe a scheme to keep me away from the students.

With a big name like Winter Winslet supervising, they’d probably find it harder to exploit the students as they pleased.

“Supervising the volunteer work is something that could easily be delegated to subordinates. So then, Professor, shall we take it that you’ll be leaving the rest of this volunteer activity in our hands?”

“There’s no need for you to meddle in my work.”

I shut down Stanley, the harbor supervisor, before he could slyly extract a definitive yes.

The reason I came to Bluefields Harbor was to root out a cultist group.

But under the condition set by Keith d’Alembert, I couldn’t reveal that purpose.

So I’d taken on the role of overseeing the Academy students’ volunteer work as a cover.

If I slacked off, the alibi would fall apart.

So I needed to fulfill my supervisory role properly. At least as a performance.

“I’ll be patrolling the docks during the day to observe the students’ volunteer activities.”

The demon worshippers would start creeping out after nightfall.

Until then, I intended to monitor the students while surveying the area and preparing for battle.

If possible, I also wanted to locate the homeless shelters run by the ‘Guardians of the Night’, Keith d’Alembert’s underlings.

“Oh, truly a model educator! Then… would you at least consider joining us for lunch…?”

“I’d like to save time, so I’ll be having lunch with the students.”

“Huh? You mean… the same food as the students? That’s a bit…”

“Is there a problem?”

“It’s not a problem. It’s just… well, the meal was prepared with young students’ tastes in mind. I was worried it might not suit your palate, Professor. Haha…”

Stanley, the harbor supervisor, began sweating bullets.

His awkward response only raised my suspicions.

Could it be… they tampered with the food meant for the students?

Even if they’re only first-years, mages are still mages.

If 300 Academy students staged even a mildly polite show of force, this entire district would get a rather charming makeover.

Either these men had guts of steel…or no brains at all.

Of course, part of a supervisor’s role is to ensure things don’t escalate to that point.

But that doesn’t mean the students should be the ones to suffer in the meantime.

“I’ll have the same meal as the students. I’m quite looking forward to seeing what’s on the menu.”

At my words, the guildmasters’ faces visibly soured.

***

Lunchtime.

As students were served their meals at the Warehouse Guild’s hall, they were struck with horror.

“This is what they expect us to eat?”

“Look at that oil floating on top… and the stench! Ugh…”

“There are bones and fish scales in the porridge!”

A bowl of so-called porridge, allegedly made with fish broth, and a chunk of bread.

That was the meal provided to students volunteering their time and labor.

The bread, supposedly for dipping, was so rock-hard it made a clinking sound when tapped.

Startled and disgusted, students began voicing complaints only to be met with curt replies.

“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it. What, you think this is a restaurant?”

“Oh dear, we eat this every day. I guess it doesn’t suit the refined palates of Academy students.”

“Seriously. Complaining about a free meal. What more do they want?”

With the guild members in charge of serving food turning the blame on the students, there was no point in arguing with them.

Just as a tense air began to settle among the students, and signs of unrest began to appear—

Bang!

The hall’s main doors burst open, and a frail old man came running in.

It was Dawson, the guildmaster and owner of the hall.

He rushed over to a guild member stirring the watery porridge with a ladle and shouted urgently.

“Get rid of this! Clear it out, now!”

“Huh? Get rid of what?”

Before Dawson could respond, the students’ attention turned once more to the front doors.

Someone else had entered.

It was Professor Winslet.

A flicker of joy crossed the students’ faces only to quickly fade.

“Of all people, it had to be Professor Winslet.”

“Hey, you go talk to him.”

“Talk to him about what? He’ll probably just tell us to eat it and stop whining.”

Among the first-years, that was the general impression of Professor Winslet.

Not quite the sociopath the upperclassmen claimed he was…but certainly not someone known for his kindness, either.

“Um, Professor…?”

One brave student finally stepped forward, but Professor Winslet raised a hand to stop them.

He glanced around the hall, and it seemed he had already grasped the situation in full.

“Guildmaster Dawson, what’s on the menu today?”

“Huh? Ah, well… the thing is… actually, the food hasn’t arrived yet. We’ve been short on hands, so we didn’t have time to prepare lunch ourselves. That’s why we placed an order with a nearby restaurant. It should be here any minute now.”

“Then what exactly is that the students are holding right now?”

“Oh dear me! What’s that doing here? That’s a special dish some of the guild members occasionally make for themselves. I guess someone took it upon themselves to serve it, thinking the students might be hungry. Really…acting without orders!”

“A special dish, is it? Then I’d love to see your guild members enjoying that so-called special meal.”

“Wh-What? That’s a bit…”

“You didn’t lie to me, did you?”

“You there. I want you to finish that bowl of porridge right now. Every last drop. And with a big smile on your face!”

“Huh? Guildmaster, what the hell are you saying? Have you lost your mind?”

“Ha! Looks like our friend here just isn’t that hungry at the moment. But I’m sure a good beating will work up his appetite in no time.”

Even though Dawson knew full well that Professor Winslet had already figured out what had been happening in the hall, he still couldn’t stop making excuses to avoid taking responsibility.

And Winslet, knowing that too, continued pressing him even harder.

“Guildmaster Dawson.”

“Y-Yes?”

“If any student so much as took a bite of that stuff, I’ll make sure you eat the same amount yourself.”

“……”

The one who saved Dawson who looked ready to drown in his own cold sweat was a subordinate he had sent to the restaurant.

“Oh! At last, the food we ordered from the restaurant has arrived. Quickly now! Get rid of that cursed porridge and start serving the students a proper meal!”

Wrapped bundles of food were handed out to the students.

Between the soft wheat bread lay grilled fish fillet, pickled onions, chopped tomatoes, and fresh cilantro. It was a sandwich.

It wasn’t exactly a feast, but the students’ sense of satisfaction made it taste all the better.

They eagerly bit into their bread, and among them was Jacqueline.

“Oh, this is really good.”

“Compared to that awful porridge earlier, anything would taste great.”

“I’m just glad it turned out to be a misunderstanding. Still, how do you even confuse pig slop with food for people?”

“Well… was it really a misunderstanding?”

Rita pushed up her glasses, casting doubt on the explanation.

Jacqueline just shrugged.

“Anyway, Shannon…why are you picking the bread apart and eating it separately?”

“The greens smell weird. I can’t eat them.”

“What? That’s the best part…”

Around the time most of the students had finished eating and were resting, Professor Winslet, who had gone to inspect the other buildings, returned to the Warehouse Guild’s hall.

He glanced around, then began walking straight toward the three girls.

Huh? Does he need something from me?

Jacqueline swallowed nervously at the thought only for the professor to point directly at the girl sitting next to her.

“Shannon Quinlivan. Come with me for a moment.”

“Yes.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Shannon stood up and followed.

Left behind, Jacqueline and Rita exchanged glances, then rose from their seats.

And, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, they began to trail behind Professor Winslet, intent on eavesdropping.