“What are you planning to do during the break?”
Ran answered my question.
“Am I supposed to do something?”
“Wouldn’t you get bored just sitting around?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, I’m not fine.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m suffering while you’re just goofing off.”
“......”
It was a petty jab, and Ran gave me a sulky look.
Still, as a research assistant, she did have to do research eventually.
“In that case... may I try writing a thesis?”
“A thesis?”
“Yes. I’ve recently been browsing the ‘Black ArXiv,’ and I noticed there isn’t a single paper on demons. I’d like to be the first to write one.”
Black ArXiv was an academic archive for assassin-related papers.
Fair enough. Once the demon invasion begins, the academic world’s interest in them is going to explode. And since Ran belongs to the Dante research team and is affiliated with Hiaka, it’d be great if she got recognized as a pioneer in the field.
“Would it be alright? My thesis, I mean.”
“Sure. But—”
I decided to give her a bit of practice while we were at it.
“Why is it your thesis?”
A rather sudden question.
Ran tilted her head.
“I wrote it. Isn’t it mine?”
“...It is yours.”
“Then why did you say that?”
“...It was a joke.”
Honestly, it wasn’t something I should’ve said, even as a joke.
How did that fat old pig say it so casually?
Betting Table, "Dungeon of Competition↑" (1)
In the rearview mirror, Rebecca was staring out the window.
At the wheel, Shadow Guard operative Layme glanced nervously at the princess.
‘......’
They were on their way back from the royal palace.
The scornful glares from elders and ministers were nothing new, but today, even her quarterly meeting with the king had been canceled—he’d been called away for urgent business regarding the Hiaka Academy department expansion.
The only reason Rebecca could endure everyone’s hatred and cling to the royal family was because the king favored her. That’s why, during the once-per-quarter meetings, she had to extract something from him.
But it had been for nothing. Delayed by the Empire’s demands for institutional access.
She had prepared his gift for weeks, prayed all night yesterday, and gotten up at dawn to dress in her finest.
‘...How do I even comfort her.’
Layme hesitated before speaking.
“Um... Your Highness. Still—”
“Sir Layme.”
The exhausted voice immediately shut her up.
“A-ah. Y-Your Highness...”
“Just drive.”
“Y-yes... I’m sorry...”
And yet, the princess’s trials were not over—her next appointment was a social gathering of the capital’s noble ladies.
‘God help us.’
It was the setting Rebecca hated most. She had nothing in common with the other girls.
Publicly, she lived behind the mask of a saint. But that had become her poison. Thanks to her low-born origins, the noble ladies saw her as an easy target. They picked fights, tried to act like equals, inflated by the idea they could match royalty.
Every time she left one of those gatherings, Rebecca’s mood would be absolutely foul.
But today... the mood was different.
“Princess, princess—this time it’s the real deal!”
“Seriously, I didn’t expect it. You’re usually kinda clumsy, but damn, when it counts?”
“I was shook, seriously!”
Amid the flood of praise, Rebecca smiled and asked,
“...Huh? What’s this all about?”
The noble ladies chattered excitedly.
“That assassin paper shoot with Gray! You were the one who made it happen, right?”
“Ah... mm.”
“For real? OMG. How’d you even come up with that? My family’s got kids in the Warrior Department, and they’re losing it. Everyone’s saying the Empire’s gonna open up study abroad routes.”
“Our family’s mage professors too! It’s basically a festival.”
“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but our dumb little princess really came through. That was impressive.”
Ohoho, kyaa, the laughter spilled on.
Rebecca smiled with her lips and eyes in kind.
“...Thank you, everyone.”
Then, after leaving the gathering, she began to quietly vent her fury in the car.
“Sir Layme. I want to kill that bitch. What do you think?”
“P-Pardon, Your Highness...?”
Layme’s eyes went wide.
“Yes or no. Just answer. I’m talking about Countess Ludwig’s daughter.”
Layme’s heart sank. It was the first time Rebecca had ever said she wanted to kill a noble.
She usually judged people by their usefulness, and the nobles directly appointed by the king all did their jobs well.
“...If possible, I think it would be best if that didn’t happen...”
“Convince me.”
“...I’m sorry, but as you know, Count Ludwig is currently entangled in a major trade deal with Hitahita. We’re talking tens of billions of Hika here, and it could open a vital market for Hiaka, whose manufacturing is weak...”
Layme tried her hardest to persuade her, but the princess’s breathing only grew more ragged.
“So. I shouldn’t?”
“...It would be in {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} Hiaka’s best interest if you refrained.”
“......”
Rebecca closed her eyes and bowed her head deeply. Then a quiet murmur escaped.
“...This is so fucking annoying.”
Layme thought to herself:
The same girl who always treated Rebecca lightly, Countess Ludwig, had, for the first time ever, praised her today.
And yet Rebecca’s anger was far worse than usual.
Because to her, the Academy’s department expansion meant the Empire’s interference—and ultimately, Hiaka becoming a puppet on their strings.
It wasn’t anger, exactly.
It was fear.
Rebecca feared the world spinning out of her control.
“Pull over.”
“Yes, ma’am... Um, where’s the shoulder...”
“Screw the shoulder. Stop the car. Now.”
“Y-yes!”
The vehicle screeched to a halt in the middle of the road. Rebecca told Layme not to follow her and stormed off down a side alley.
Her hands trembling, she lit a cheap clove cigarette and began puffing like a chimney.
Her own method of calming down.
But after the fourth stick, her stomach churned. She braced herself against a wall and vomited.
After throwing up repeatedly, she pulled a water bottle from her subspace pouch, rinsed her mouth, and lit another smoke.
But maybe the scent attracted something—a filthy little rat scurried up, twitching madly.
It was strange. The rat shook like it had rabies and didn’t avoid people. It rushed straight at Rebecca, and when she kicked, it didn’t back down. With a shrill SKEEE, it lunged and bit her exposed toe.
A sting of pain—skin ripped clean off her toe.
And still, the rat reared its head proudly.
Until it slammed to the ground.
CRUNCH!
Rebecca stomped hard.
Then she twisted her ankle left and right until the damn thing was a crushed mess.
She stayed like that for a while.
Only then did the chaos in her head settle slightly.
“Y-Your Highness! Your foot—!”
Layme had parked and come running, only to find blood pouring from Rebecca’s toe.
Her once-white, floral sandals now soaked red.
Even then, Rebecca stood blankly, smoking. Then she looked down at her foot—
And seared the wound shut with her cigarette.
Sssssss, the sizzle of flesh.
Even Layme, who had undergone torture-resistance training, was silently horrified.
Rebecca approached, still trembling, and spoke:
“Professor Dante...”
“Yes?”
“Call Professor Dante. To the Academy building. My quarters.”
So Layme called him.
He was already at the Academy.
They had to speed on the way back.
***
The location was the Cain Building’s indoor gymnasium.
Ran and I stood ready to greet the assassin cadets.
Ten minutes early, Elize skipped in waving her hand.
Right on the dot, Kendreik and Balmung entered as a pair, heads bowed. Gray arrived three minutes late.
Today’s gathering was to explain the Dante Team’s operational structure and do some basic training.
“Ran.”
“Yes. Dante Assassination Cadets, you’ve each received a gift. Please open it now.”
Ran held out four boxes.
“A gift? Wow!”
“Thank you, Professor!”
Three opened theirs. Kendreik tore his open.
“Uh... a harness...?”
Correct.
These were Dante Team–exclusive assassin harnesses.
Far superior to the standard cadet gear. Enhanced with 『Custom Fit』 magic. Each pouch was lined with [Subspace], capable of holding items as large as a full backpack.
These were [Hero]-grade gear. I bought them by absolutely draining my finances.
FYI, the tourist revenue from Zone 9’s Cain Tree hasn’t come in yet. Still in operation. So yes, I’m broke.
“Whoa. This thing is tight and super comfy, Professor.”
“I’m honored. This will become a treasured heirloom of the Nibelung family...”
“Ughh.”
The four admired their harnesses with satisfaction. Then Gray asked:
“What’s this on the shoulder?”
It was like an armband. She strapped it around her left forearm out of instinct, but was curious.
“That’s our assassination team’s reward system.”
“Reward system?”
It was an idea I’d been pondering for a long time.
If I ever had my own team, how could I raise them with maximum efficiency?
The White Saber’s ‘favoritism’ method wasn’t efficient. Despite their numbers, they were on par with Black Abyss.
Black Abyss’s ‘whip’ strategy was shortsighted. Kids forced to study by their parents rarely grow up happy.
Then it hit me. What do people work hardest at?
Games.
People play games hard for many reasons, but the biggest is: rewards. Transparent rewards for growth, achievements, and effort.
I took that idea and thought of military patches.
Why do soldiers jump out of planes? To grow as combat units? For national pride?
No.
They want the Airborne patch.
Because it looks cool.
I’m that type too.
“Hey, muscle boy.”
“Ugh.”
“Come here.”
I held up Kendreik’s massive arm for everyone to see.
“These armbands have Velcro. You can stick and peel patches off.”
“Ugh.”
“When you train, take missions, or follow my orders faithfully, I’ll give you patches.”
I made one. Jet-black background. Shimmering dark B insignia.
Patch grades: D, C, B, A, S.
“These can be turned in or kept on payday. Depending on grade, they boost your revenue share by 1%, 3%, 9%, 27%, or 81%.”
“Wha??”
“Wait! Are you serious?”
“Eighty-one percent...?”
The baby assassins’ eyes nearly popped out.
Of course, the team would share profits.
Currently, they get 5%.
The industry minimum!
Kind of like minimum wage. The standard rookie contract starts at 5%.
“I have a question, Professor! If I collect S-rank patches and turn them in, I get 86%?”
“Correct.”
Balmung’s eyes widened.
“What if I go over 100%?”
“Then I cover it from my own funds.”
“...Ugh.”
All four of them suddenly got greedy.
As expected of assassins.
And understandably so.
All of them had been cut off from their families. They barely scraped by thanks to dignity stipends Rebecca provided.
Kendreik had been rich, but his company collapsed. No more allowance.
Bluntly put, they were all broke.
“Also, A- and S-rank patches come with ‘Dante’s Gift’ and ‘Dante’s Wish Ticket.’”
That made them all tense up.
I was suddenly aware that I was, in fact, a very respected professor.
“What do we get with the gift?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Um... the wish ticket. Can we ask for anything?”
“As long as it’s reasonable.”
“Um... what if I asked you to find my father?”
“I’ll find him. With everything I’ve got.”
“Ugh?”
“That’s right.”
As the conversation went on, their expressions grew more intense. Even the 【Script】 flagged this reward system as highly engaging. Especially the A- and S-rank items. They created powerful desire.
The semi-permanent [patches] could be made with [Illusion], so it wasn’t even much effort for me.
“But, uh, how do we determine patch ranks?”
Balmung asked.
Ran answered.
“I decide.”
Ran and Balmung locked eyes.
Machine vs Doberman.
Their equally jet-black eyes glared.
I had previously told them Ran was our new assistant and enjoyed putting things on her head.
“What criteria do you use, Assistant?”
“I have a calculator.”
Ran pulled a toy calculator from her pocket and placed it on her head.
Balmung tested her.
“Then... let’s say I completed a 2 million Hika mission but got Kendreik the idiot injured and bedridden for three weeks. What then?”
Ran tapped her temple. Her eyes flickered: ‘loading.’
“...Shop D. You get a D-rank patch.”
“What’s the calculation formula?”
“Trade secret.”
Elize jumped in.
“Okay then, what about me being the model for Assassin Daily?”
“...Shop A.”
“Wow, really?!”
Everyone turned to look at Gray.
Gray blinked.
“Eh.”
Then—somewhat dumbfounded—she looked at me and held out her hand.
“...Gimme.”
She wasn’t even sure herself.
But like I’d give it up so easily.
“This system goes into effect now.”
“Whaaat? That’s not fair...”
“It is. And any patch you earn can be revoked if you get penalized, so follow my rules.”
Still, the system felt vague to them.
They were intrigued but uncertain.
Freshly implemented, not yet real.
So I’d prepared a little demo.
“Let’s award the first patch. Ran.”
“Yes. Cadet Elize, for arriving early, receives a D-rank patch.”
“Huh? Me?”
Ran placed the [D] patch on Elize’s armband.
Balmung panicked.
“W-wait! What about me!? I arrived right at two o’clock—”
“You were two seconds late.”
“Excuse me!?”
“The professor specified arrival at the Cain Building by 2:00 PM sharp. That means before 2:01:00. You entered at 2:01:02 with Cadet Kendreik.”
“Wha... No way...”
Balmung fell silent.
Elize grinned, admiring her patch.
“Professor. This patch is so cute.”
I did put effort into it.
But that wasn’t all.
“Come here for a sec.”
“Huh?”
I modified the [Form] of the patch slightly.
Added a bone-shaped engraving.
“Whoa, it’s a bone~♬”
At the same time, Balmung’s eye twitched.
First patch: complete.
【Elize: ‘What a happy life♡’】
The golden patch shone proudly on her armband.
The other three’s bands were blank.
As expected, their expressions changed.
【Gray: ‘What is that? So childish.’】
【Gray: ‘Honestly.’】
【Gray: ‘Who would even want that thing?’】
Gray frowned, glancing sideways—
【Gray: ‘......’】
Balmung, especially, looked furious.
【Balmung: ‘I’m so fucking pissed KenDREIK you piece of SHIT if I’d just worn my SHOES faster I’d have one too fucking HELL—’】
Even Kendreik 2.0 had a troubled look.
【Kendreik: ‘Ugh!!’】
Though... did he even get what he was mad about?