As soon as the notification popped up, I immediately cast telekinetic magic above my head.
Thud! Clatter clatter clatter.
A heavy cracking sound was followed by a shower of gravel-like debris.
The flowerpot that had fallen from the sky was about the size of a human head.
Had I not raised a barrier in time, my neck would’ve been broken.
“Who’s there?”
There was no way a flowerpot that size had jumped off on its own, so I looked up to find the culprit.
A window on the third floor was open, but there was no sign of anyone.
Did they already escape?
[Notification]
[You have cleared a death flag.]
[You have received achievement points as a reward.]
“……”
Was it too optimistic to think someone might’ve dropped it by accident…?
Maybe there were people inside this academy who wanted Winter Winslet dead.
Swallowing my unease, I entered the Magic Department.
At the very least, inside the building I wouldn’t have to worry about getting hit by falling flowerpots.
Near the staff-only entrance, there was a row of mailboxes, and several document envelopes were stuffed in the one labeled Winter Winslet.
Just as I reached out to grab them in passing—
[Warning]
[A death flag has been raised.]
Again?
I quickly looked left and right, but no one was around.
Above me was a solid ceiling.
But when I turned my eyes forward again, I saw the mailbox with its mouth gaping open, trying to bite my hand.
…The mailbox?
I instantly gathered magic into my right hand and struck downward.
Crunch.
Screech!
The mailbox—or rather, the mimic pretending to be a mailbox—let out a shriek and was flung away.
I was briefly speechless.
Why was a monster that should’ve been hiding in a dungeon pretending to be a mailbox at someone else’s academy?
[Notification]
[You have cleared a death flag.]
[You have received achievement points as a reward.]
When I pulled the mail out of the mimic’s mouth with its tongue still sticking out, the paper envelope was drenched in saliva.
I considered throwing it away on the spot, but thinking it might contain something important, I carried it back to the office.
Then I stared at it warily.
…Surely they hadn’t tampered with the documents too, right?
At a glance, it looked like an ordinary piece of mail.
But my sense of caution was sounding the alarm.
It told me not to open it carelessly.
Deciding I wouldn’t open it unless it was truly urgent and important, I scanned the titles written on the envelope.
<(Urgent) “Approval needed by morning.”>
<(Must Read) Regarding adjustment of first semester College of Magic instructional budget performance.>
<Royal Magical Crime Investigation Department. Request for witness attendance regarding suspicions of illegal production and distribution of regulated magical substances within the academy.>
<“Draft speech for entrance ceremony.”>
…Monsters in human skin.
Drawn in as if under a spell, I opened the envelope, and the moment I pulled the paper out, I felt a faint resistance.
The sensation was like tugging on a thin thread connected to a trap.
And, of course—
Whoosh!
The paper burst into flames.
The fire quickly consumed the sheet, leaving behind charred marks, which soon formed black lines that shaped an image.
A magic circle, completed in ash and flame.
In short, it was a primitive explosive scroll.
I knew it.
Boom!
[Warning]
[A death flag has been raised.]
This time, the explosion came even before the notification.
These lunatics…
***
They say curiosity killed the cat.
But Winter Winslet wasn’t a cat. He was a high-ranking mage who had reached 7th-class.
And a half-baked explosive scroll wasn’t enough to leave so much as a scratch on me.
Fsssssh…
What remained after the explosion was a thin cocoon of ice, hemispherical in shape, that had formed around me.
Someone like Winter Winslet who possessed an “S-Rank” level of “mana” and talent in the “ice” element could defend himself instinctively, even without casting a spell.
Though it wasn’t very mana-efficient.
[Notification]
[You have cleared a death flag.]
[You have received achievement points as a reward.]
Fwoosh.
As I burned the remaining unopened documents with a fire spell, I finally felt sure of it.
The Laurencia Royal Academy.
Someone within it was out to kill Winter Winslet.
Who could it be?
Who had gone out of their way to play such a wicked prank on me, on my very first day reporting in as Winter Winslet?
I would soon meet the line-up of suspects.
After a series of twists and turns, I finally arrived at the monthly faculty meeting.
The professors were seated around a rectangular table in a small conference room. They were chatting away about various topics, all fell silent the moment I opened the door and stepped inside. Almost as if it had been prearranged.
A brief silence.
“Oh, Professor Winslet is here too. What a surprise.”
Following the lead of the old man seated at the head of the table, pairs of eyes shot toward me.
There were two main kinds of gazes directed at me.
Wariness and hostility, or fear and avoidance.
The latter was far more common, but both shared one thing in common…
[Notification]
[A death flag for this character has been raised.]
I recalled something I had forgotten.
That one of Winter Winslet’s nicknames was “that infamous piece of trash of the Academy”.
I tried counting how many of the professors attending the meeting had raised a death flag for me. And sure enough,
It was all of them.
The entire world was a death flag.
***
The moment Professor Winslet entered with his long blond hair trailing behind him, the atmosphere in the meeting room sank into a chill.
Professor Breda who was seated closest to the entrance felt as though it wasn’t just a metaphor. The temperature seemed to have actually dropped by about three degrees Celsius, and she rubbed her forearms at the eerie sensation.
Now that she was seated and looking up, Professor Winslet appeared tall like a coat rack and inorganic like terracotta.
His cold and dry expression gave nothing away.
Only after he passed behind her and moved toward an empty seat did Professor Breda finally release the breath she had been holding.
She leaned over and whispered to the colleague sitting next to her.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Exactly. The guy never even shows his face normally…”
The one agreeing was Professor Charles, who taught basic magic spells.
Beyond him sat Professor Corrigan, who had started hiccuping pitifully.
She taught transformation magic and had a timid personality.
“Hic!”
“Careful. If you make eye contact again, who knows what kind of crazy shit he’ll pull.”
It wasn’t just the trio. The entire meeting room was on edge at the appearance of Professor Winslet.
As the room filled with nothing but the sound of dry gulps, Professor Winslet cast a brief glance around before finally speaking.
“How long are you all planning to sit there with your mouths shut? The meeting?”
“Ahem, hrmph!”
The old man at the head of the table cleared his throat with clear reluctance and began the meeting.
“Since everyone is present, we’ll begin the fifth faculty meeting of the year. I’m Kimberly Kelly, Dean of the Second Magic Department. As the position of Dean of the First Department is currently vacant, I’ll be acting in that capacity to preside over this meeting.”
The former dean who was supposed to be sitting in that chair had made the mistake of crossing Professor Winslet last winter—
And lost his head for it.
It was the reason Dean Kelly kept glancing nervously at Professor Winslet while speaking.
“First, please check the monthly work plans that were distributed to each of your seats. The first agenda item is a directive from the Academic Affairs Department.”
Even though the meeting had officially begun, most eyes still hadn’t left Professor Winslet.
He held the sheet of paper in front of him at an angle and skimmed it with his eyes. His profile, as he read, gave off the impression that he was handling something unfamiliar.
Professor Breda who was stealing glances at him scoffed inwardly.
Of course. He’s probably never bothered to read one before.
Dean Kelly continued with the meeting.
“There’s a report that some faculty members at the First Magic Department have not completed the mandatory ethics training. Those individuals must attend the supplementary session this weekend to avoid any penalties. The report mentions non-attendance for the anti-corruption training and the conflict-of-interest law seminar… um, Professor Winslet?”
Flinch.
Dean Kelly flinched the moment he finished speaking.
Everyone except Professor Winslet was now staring directly at him.
“Uh… did I say something wrong?”
“Dean Kelly!”
Someone suddenly raised their hand and spoke up.
“Go ahead, Professor Corrigan.”
It was unexpected for Professor Corrigan who was normally a reserved type to raise her hand in the middle of the meeting.
But what she said next was even more unexpected.
“Our dear Professor Winslet doesn’t do things like that!”
“…Huh?”
The dean grew dumbfounded and asked for clarification, and Professor Corrigan nervously fumbled her words. Her voice was uneven with tension.
“Professor Winslet does not do things like that! Dean Kelly, you must be new around here and just don’t know how things work yet, right? Haha…”
It sounded like nonsense, but Dean Kelly swallowed the words that had risen to his throat.
Something about Professor Corrigan’s tone and behavior felt strangely off.
The exaggerated cheerfulness, the desperate look in her eyes. It all seemed… unnatural. As if someone were threatening her with a knife just out of view.
Could she be trying to send some kind of signal?
Sensing that something was amiss, the dean decided to let it go for now.
It took a few awkward coughs before he could fully regain his composure.
“Ahem. Moving on to the next item. Professors who’ve applied to open courses for the spring semester must submit a syllabus to ensure students’ right to learn. However, it seems some of you have yet to do so. Um, let’s see…”
Adjusting his glasses, the dean read the name directly off the paper.
“Again, Professor Winslet?”
As his gaze shifted naturally toward him, he locked eyes with Professor Winslet…and felt a chill run down his spine.
The handsome man with golden hair gave no reply.
He simply stared at the dean with a cold expressionless face.
His cold eyes seemed to say: “Go ahead. Say one more word.”
Once again, it was Professor Corrigan who stepped in to save him.
“Dean!”
“Yes?”
“Professor Winslet doesn’t do things like that!”
“….…”
The dean wiped away the cold sweat on his forehead.
Only then did he finally understand.
It hadn’t been Professor Corrigan’s intention to disrupt the meeting. She was merely trying to protect him from provoking Professor Winslet’s wrath.
The dean gave her a small, grateful glance.
“W-Well then, let’s move on from this item. Next is the issue of last semester’s missing course evaluations…”
Dean Kelly trailed off mid-sentence.
Because once again, the person in question was Professor Winslet.
He glanced subtly at Professor Corrigan. Just as he expected, she was shaking her head at him.
As if to say: “Don’t go there.”
“Hmm.”
The dean picked up his pen and drew lines through every agenda item that had anything to do with Professor Winslet.
That left exactly two items.
“……”
In any case, the meeting had to end if he wanted to escape this tense atmosphere, so the dean reluctantly continued.
“This one is a request from the Student Affairs Office. They’d like to run a half-price meal plan for current students when the spring semester begins. However, due to budget limitations, they plan to prioritize institutions or departments willing to contribute partial funding.”
Dean Kelly let out a sigh of relief, finally feeling like they were having a proper meeting.
“I looked into it yesterday, and it seems the budget for the First Magic Department has some room. Especially with a sizable amount carried over from last year. I’d like to propose we cover the support funds from there. Does anyone have any objections?”
Skreeeek!
The sound of Professor Corrigan shoving back her chair as she stood up.
Seeing the solemn expression on her face, the dean could already picture what was about to unfold.
“Deaaan!”
“No, don’t tell me…”
“That money…. that’s Professor Winslet’s emergency fund!”
“No way.”
The dean barely managed to shut his gaping mouth.
What kind of place even is this?
It was utter chaos.
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