1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

106. Henderson Aola (2)

The old professor summoned him early in the morning.

The place was a quiet outskirts.

Though summer was soon to arrive, each breath released a white mist into the air.

In contrast, only gray smoke billowed from Henderson’s mouth.

“Huuh—”

Henderson stood, clad in a thick coat, watching the sky brighten slowly.

Each time he brought the pipe to his lips, the chains of the nightmare horse jingled softly.

He had never attended a class to the end, so he didn’t know the deadline.

But seeing the small freedoms granted to him, he sensed that today was the last day.

“Ah, you’ve come?”

I approached Henderson, who waved awkwardly, responding as usual.

“You seem to enjoy that dreary thing quite well.”

—

“Looks expensive, doesn’t it? They say it’s grown in the mage fields. Unless the old man is pulling a fast one, that is. Right?”

Professor No cleared his throat.

Henderson, perhaps sensing my grimace, thrust his pipe toward me.

“Care to give it a try?”

“No thanks, just makes me cough.”

Here we were, not even in the Age of Exploration, and yet someone had hastily discovered tobacco leaves, leaving only the poor non-smokers to suffer…

“The outside air is nice, so why not just take a walk?”

Henderson seemed eager for a stroll, his body moving with a slight bounce.

Crunch—

The snow beneath our feet was thin.

It was snow blown down from the mountain peaks, hardly accumulating at all.

“I’ve heard the tales. They say you were flying around during some exam or another?”

With a sheepish grin, Henderson spoke, and I narrowed my eyes in response.

“…It just happened that way, that’s all.”

In this mage field practice, I had no grand designs.

My aim was simply to gather some useful herbs and perhaps unearth a relic or two.

I was merely a distant observer of the squabbles between the young vagabonds and the instructors.

But Henderson, perhaps thinking I was being modest, chuckled to himself.

“They say all the little ones who came in this time are orphans? What’s the point of picking them up if there’s nothing to gain?”

I answered honestly once more.

“Because there’s a place for them, I suppose? In time, they’ll all pay back in taxes, won’t they?”

Especially Melin, a talent too precious to overlook.

“They’re surprisingly well-trained for their age, good for hard labor. They’ll work without complaint, I reckon.”

I revealed that it was all a calculated decision.

Yet Henderson, lost in some absurd thought, stopped in his tracks, eyes wide with surprise.

“Are you saying you plan to grant them imperial citizenship?”

“…To collect taxes, that’s how it must be.”

The law demands it.

“Well, that’s something the family will handle. It just so happens that it turned out this way, so no need to make a fuss.”

“Oh, I see, I see. You’re casually dispatching instructors and casually rescuing children. Quite the remarkable coincidence, isn’t it?”

Henderson furrowed his brow, a playful smirk curling his lips like a mischievous five-year-old.

His narrow, squinting smile was so infuriating that I found myself clenching my fists without realizing it.

“If you’re going to keep teasing, I’ll take my leave.”

“Tch, fine.”

Once he conceded, the conversation devolved into trivial exchanges.

“Did you hear? Madame Tear’s place is just enchanting, they say.”

Which city is nice, how the red-light district is, which gambling den is the least corrupt—these were all tales far removed from my world.

“Topics I have no interest in. A virtuous person like me wouldn’t step foot in such places.”

“Cut the crap. You look like you belong to that crowd.”

“Ugh, think what you want.”

Before long, we had walked and rested enough that three hours had slipped by.

Now, we were discussing food.

“You crave something that makes your tongue tingle? Then you should try Melvana. It’s my hometown in the south, famous for its strong spices in all sorts of dishes.”

“No wonder you devour ginger cookies like there’s no tomorrow. But the spice I’m after isn’t that kind.”

…Something like the spiciness of stir-fried pork?

“Hmm, still, I think there might be something. Should we give it a try?”

The topic of conversation had run dry.

Only the sound of our footsteps echoed in the air.

Perhaps we were both holding back, wary of broaching heavier subjects.

Henderson seemed to dislike such an atmosphere, and I was subtly attuned to his wishes.

As silence stretched on, Henderson rubbed his belly, signaling his hunger.

“I’m starving; shall we head in soon?”

“Then tell my maid to bring us something to eat on the way.”

Celly is on leave today.

Naturally, I had to make things a bit more complicated.

“Oh, right. Since we mentioned ginger cookies earlier, bring some of those too. What else was there? Peaches? That would be nice if you can find them.”

As Henderson licked his lips at the thought, Professor No shot him a sharp glare.

“…You little brat, Henderson. You know I’m allergic to peaches, and yet you say that?”

“What’s it to you? That’s why I want them even more.”

“Ugh, just a whiff of the fuzz and I break out in hives.”

Thus, the walk came to an end.

On the way, I stopped by to give Selly some tasks or perhaps a gift, and then I arrived at the classroom.

* * *

Seated in my chair, I half-listened to Henderson’s ramblings.

In the meantime, perhaps he had filled his bundle with conversation, for the stories showed no sign of ending.

“Have you ever been to a foreign land by boat? I was so hungry I picked up some bread, but a seagull swooped down and snatched it away. At that moment, Melisa, who was beside me, gasped and shouted like this.”

Melisa seemed to be the name of the woman who had left this man behind.

“You fool! You should have caught it! Why are you just staring blankly, lying there? she said. So I asked her why, and she said she wanted to try frying it. Anyway, she was a woman with an absurdly resourceful spirit. Well, that was back when we traveled without a single coin to our names.”

“…Frying a seagull?”

Henderson looked particularly happy when he spoke of Melisa.

“Even living without much, those days were good. Melisa’s skin was always so plump. Even after ten years, not a single wrinkle had etched itself upon her.”

Perhaps that ease came from the thought of soon meeting Melisa again.

At that moment, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

It seemed Selly had arrived.

Creak—

The door swung open, and Selly entered the classroom, her arms laden with a basket.

As expected, her expression was as sour as when I had assigned her tasks.

I spoke with a hint of sarcasm.

“Look at that face.”

Selly clenched her teeth and whispered softly.

“…Please don’t make me do this on my day off, just a little.”

“I let you rest all this time while I went to take my exam.”

“There was also the café work, you know?”

“I know all about your days off.”

Selly grumbled as she placed the basket on the desk.

Then she glanced at Henderson, and it was clear from her look that he bore the mark of a criminal; his complexion was far from pleasant.

“Well then, I’ll be off.”

“Alright, take care.”

As Selly left, Henderson rummaged through the basket and said,

“You really do get along comfortably with your servant, don’t you?”

“It’s just that he’s not well-versed in manners. A broad-minded person like me is letting it slide.”

“Hmm, ah. Found it.”

As Henderson pulled out a peach, the old professor gasped in horror.

“Yikes, ugh, put that away. If you’re going to eat, turn your head and do it.”

“If you don’t like it, then leave.”

“It’s my duty to keep an eye on you! What nonsense is that!”

Henderson grinned mischievously, rolling the peach between his fingers.

Then he took a big bite, the flesh bursting with juice, dripping down his chin.

The old professor, perhaps dying from the mere scent, coughed and teared up.

“Cough, cough, hack.”

It was a moment where I wondered if I should test whether recovery magic worked on allergies.

Henderson lowered his smirk, leaning in with a serious expression.

His voice whispered softly in my ear.

“Go back and check.”

A piece of paper slipped between my coat and shirt.

“Ugh, Henderson, you little rascal!!”

“Sorry, old man. I wonder why the juice splattered there of all places.”

While Henderson feigned innocence, I carefully tucked the paper into my pocket.

“Ah, that’s enough. You can go now. Shall we have a little chat, just the two of us?”

“Cough, you and I?”

“Why not? You must have heard plenty while keeping watch, so let’s catch up.”

As Henderson gave me a knowing look, I rose from my seat.

He seemed eager to send me off, as if it was something urgent.

I couldn’t help but think it was something significant.

What would be a fitting farewell…?

After a moment of contemplation, I opened my mouth.

“Thank you, Henderson. And, it was nice to meet you.”

I wanted to say something more profound, but my lack of sentimentality led only to ordinary words spilling out.

I stood there, thinking this might be the last time, waiting for him to mock me.

But contrary to my expectations, Henderson let out a deep breath, beaming widely and waving his hands dismissively.

“Indeed, it was a pleasure to meet you as well.”

Thus, I bid farewell to my master, once a condemned man.

* * *

As soon as I returned to the room, I pulled out the folded paper.

It seemed Donathan had taken a liking to him, for he uttered words uncharacteristic of his usual demeanor.

“His death feels quite tragic, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm?”

“He was a villain, yet he bore no semblance of one. At heart, he was not a bad man.”

I sat down in a chair, unfolding the paper as I spoke.

“True enough. Had he not fallen into the shadows, he might have lived a rather decent life.”

“That’s uncertain. I have seen countless cases where exceptional talent was thwarted by one’s station in life.”

I let Donathan’s words drift past me as I began to read the first page.

In an instant, my eyes widened.

I allowed the cold sweat to trickle down my forehead as I responded to his words.

“…If that talent overflows beyond expectation, it’s a different matter altogether.”

“What do you mean?”

“Henderson, that b*stard… He might be a genius unmatched in scholarly talent.”

What was inscribed on the paper might seem trivial, as it appears in many games, easily dismissed.

Yet in a world where such a thing does not exist, one could hardly grasp the magnitude of this discovery.

Inventory.

A magic that allows one to place items into a pocket dimension and retrieve them, preserving them in pristine condition.

Rustle.

As I turned the page, words came into view.

[I’ll pose a riddle for you. When you turn the page, there will be a blank space. I’ve left hints there, and if you put in the effort to seek them out, you’ll be able to fill it. You’re clever, so perhaps you could solve it in ten years?]

Below it was a complex array of symbols, drawn in the form of a riddle, so intricate that it was nearly indecipherable.

As Henderson had said, there was indeed a blank space, and judging by the characteristics written there, it seemed to suggest that I should investigate and gather information to fill it in.

Otherwise, it would remain unsolvable.

This was a matter of completing the riddle itself.

[If you solve it, the answer will emerge. Use it to acquire hundreds of gold. Then, the inventory magic will be yours. Ah, and don’t teach it to anyone else. Unless you wish to live a tiresome life.]

“…Hundreds of gold?”

No, does it even matter?

If it’s going to take ten years, then it’s better not to learn at all.

I don’t have that kind of time to spare…

Yet, the moment I turned the page, a chuckle escaped my lips.

“Heh.”

Anyway, that Henderson b*stard really loves to toy with people.

[But just in case, write it down. Maybe I’ve taken a liking to you and have already taught you. Anyway, the answer is a name. The name of the woman I loved.]

‘Hussel, wasn’t that the name he mentioned?’

“Yeah, he did. No wonder I’ve been muttering that name all day.”

I etched the name ‘Melissa’ into the air with a flourish of my hand.

When there was no response, I drew the gold back into my body, and that’s when it happened.

The room was drenched in darkness.

All that was visible was a canvas the size of a door.

There, vast shapes were densely inscribed.

* * *

With a click, the magic lamp flickered to life.

My hands and feet were bound to the bed.

Henderson stared blankly at the light above his face, then turned his head.

Shuffling footsteps.

Rockefeller approached, drying his hands with a towel.

“It’s been a while, Henderson Aola.”

“…You disgusting traitor.”

“A traitor, huh? Heh. That foolish perspective of yours hasn’t changed. I merely did what I had to do. If you’re going to blame someone, blame your own incompetence for not realizing I was a spy. Isn’t that right?”

At his sneer, Henderson gritted his teeth and shouted.

“Though it was annoying, I once thought of you as a comrade. Why, after knowing the truth of the Empire, did you betray us!!”

“Well, the Empire granted me a title and helped me reach this position.”

Rockefeller picked up an ink-stained pen and drew a dotted line on Henderson’s forehead.

With each sharp prick, Henderson grimaced.

“Heh heh heh. So you once thought of me as a comrade? How amusing. I’ve always regarded you as nothing more than a pest. An authority in the field of sadomasochism, boasting to others with nothing but hot air. There wasn’t a single thing I liked about you.”

As Rockefeller continued his monologue, he set down the syringe.

Henderson felt his consciousness fading and closed his eyes.

Thud!

The knife pierced the skin of Henderson’s forehead.

Rockefeller wiped the blood from his cheek and moved his hands with a rustling sound.

* * *

In the lobby of the Shulafe Hall, Atra whispered to the Rix group.

“You’ll be having a party soon.”

“A party, you say?”

“Yeah, a party. Normally, when we return from the practical magic training, the professors prepare a little something to celebrate. That’s when we can drink to our heart’s content, right? So don’t forget to sneak me a bottle too.”

At the mention of alcohol, the sound of swallowed saliva echoed from various corners.

In Frost Heart, they do not sell alcohol to students.

Thus, it is exceedingly precious.

“And go get some new clothes for the club. You must have earned quite a bit during this practical, so it shouldn’t be hard, right? Next time… Ah, right. I heard you caught the leader? Then you’ll be getting a reward, won’t you?”

Rix asked, puzzled.

“Do they really give out rewards?”

“Of course. A worthy contributor gets their due recognition. You caught Limberton too, right? Wow, with two coming out of Shulafe Hall, Adel Hall will surely be in an uproar.”

Atra’s expression was nothing but delight as he spoke.

“But what about Hessel…”

“Oh, Hessel? Well, who knows? Hmm, has there ever been a student who caught an instructor? I doubt they’ll create a new award for him, and besides, would that even matter to him?”

Rix nodded.

Hessel was set to receive a medal.

One that would come not just from the academy, but from the Pathfinder headquarters and the royal family, surpassing all standards.

“Still, the professors will feel obliged to give him something. Anyway, I’ve told you everything, right? Pass it on to the others too.”

Atra shrugged off the responsibility with a hint of annoyance and turned sharply.

Then, in a voice as sultry as a noblewoman’s, she murmured, “Melin? This mother longs for a meal. Would you be so kind as to prepare my coat? I’m curious about the texture of the new fabric I bought.”

Melin turned to Rix, her voice barely a whisper, pleading for rescue.

“…That woman is strange. Can we change guardians?”

“Just hold on a little longer. It’s only a few days left.”

“Damn it.”

As Atra clapped her hands, Merin clicked her tongue and trailed behind her like a shadow.

“Is it just me, or does Atra seem to have a certain elegance these days?” Klave asked cautiously.

“That outfit looks brand new, doesn’t it?”

“I’ve heard rumors that she’s been raking in coins while we were away. Seems there’s some truth to that…”

“Why is Merin even bothering? She’s not in need.”

“Perhaps she’s trying to take her on as a handmaiden.”

—