### Chapter 516 – Room 207, The Gate Room – The Fourth Trial ‘The Fallen King’ (2)
—
— Trainee Agent, Kim Mina
I am Kim Mina, a trainee agent in the Demon Disaster Response Team under the Inquisition of the Vatican.
Just saying the words ‘Vatican’, ‘Inquisition’, ‘Demon Disaster’, and ‘Agent’ sounds majestic, doesn’t it?
It’s a pity that I’ve never had the chance to use such impressive terms when introducing myself.
In the past, I mostly just touted titles like ‘library part-timer’, ‘Happy Happy convenience store part-timer’, and ‘Star Cafe part-timer’.
Given the secretive tasks carried out behind the scenes of the world, I guess it’s necessary to keep my identity hidden, but it still feels regretful.
Sharp-eyed folks might have realized that my primary role is that of a ‘part-timer’, and the reason is simple.
I’m incredibly youthful—supernaturally youthful, even!
When I put on my school uniform, everyone mistakes me for a high school student!
“Minah, good morning!”
“Good morning!”
*
Whether school days are happy or bittersweet varies from person to person, but my stance is clear.
If you don’t care about test scores, high school is actually a pretty fun place.
Having spent eight years at Hotel High School and experienced graduation twice, this opinion of a so-called ‘high school expert’ deserves respect.
How did I end up in this strange school called ‘Hotel High’ for eight years?
In the past, I sighed in confusion, but now I have a vague understanding.
I heard the secret rumors circulating among veteran agents.
According to the rumors, there’s a ‘being who can see the future’ among the Vatican’s high-ranking officials.
The ‘Prophet’ has lived for an incredibly long time and has grown stronger over the years.
It’s clear the Prophet foresaw a terrible demon disaster occurring at this very school someday!
However, since they didn’t know the exact timing, they just casually placed a trainee agent here.
…
Thinking about it this way calms my heart.
It makes me feel like I’m not just wasting time uselessly, but rather doing a great service for humanity.
Yay!
So, should I enjoy another day of endless school life full of energy?
“Haaaawn~!”
— Thud!
“Who’s yawning during class?!”
“… I’m sorry.”
“Keep your hand up!”
*
As the tedious fourth-period Korean History class was winding down, I struggled to keep my heavy eyelids open, glancing around.
Sure enough, the boys were already half out of their seats, ready to bolt as soon as the bell rang.
— Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong!
“Waaaaah!”
How do these high schoolers consistently act the same way after eight years?
Is the school lunch really that delicious?
Of course, I had no intention of running around like a fool.
Even if I go slowly, there’s bound to be enough side dishes left—
— Crash!
“Ow!”
“Uugh! I-I’m sorry!”
“…”
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were there! I mean—”
“It’s fine, just go eat.”
A clueless guy bumped into me while running from behind.
Looking at his face, I realized it was the nerdy kid I had categorized as a ‘nerd’ at the start of the semester.
What’s with the sudden sprinting, then?
After a deep sigh, as I leisurely made my way to the dining hall, the first ‘strange occurrence’ took place.
“Uwaaaah! Hot, hot!”
“It’s hot!”
“…”
It seemed the cafeteria lady had spilled hot soup while serving.
Clearly, it was a considerable spill since one student was glaring with irritation.
Oh, I remember him now—he’s the kid I labeled a ‘bully’ at the semester’s start.
Well, given that the lady serves thousands of meals, she’s bound to make mistakes.
A simple apology should settle it, right?
Though since it’s a bully, it might get a little loud?
“Th—”
“Hey lady, my clothing is soaked—”
“You, insolent brat! Did your mother not teach you manners?”
For a moment, silence fell over the cafeteria.
The complaining bully was frozen in shock, and even the students who were snickering nearby were staring wide-eyed.
“I’ll pull out your intestines and fry them! You worthless piece of trash! I’ll pour boiling oil down your throat—”
Apparently, words weren’t enough, as the lady actually plunged her ladle into the frying pot where she was preparing pork cutlets!
“Uwaaaah!”
“W-What’s happening all of a sudden?!”
“Are you crazy?!”
Filled with rage, the lady turned red-hot, about to pour boiling oil!
At this rate, even gangsters would think twice and take a step back.
Naturally, the startled students scrambled to get out of the way, and other cafeteria ladies and teachers started rushing in to break it up.
Did it really need to escalate this far?
I could have sworn a simple “I’m sorry, I made a mistake!” would’ve had the students grumbling for a bit before rushing off to lunch…
Everyone was eating half-heartedly as lunch hour came to an end.
*
Was it an illusion?
It seemed excessive for just a momentary burst of anger; it looked almost premeditated.
If it wasn’t an illusion…
*
In fifth-period English class.
As soon as the teacher walked in, the rowdy boys started with “Do you have a boyfriend?” and other embarrassingly inappropriate questions that I would never say out loud.
“Guys, quiet down! This part is definitely going to be on the midterm!”
Seeing the flustered English teacher made me sigh.
It’s a real cliché thing to say, but—honestly, I am a cliché—it appears that some discipline is needed; calm talking won’t cut it.
What? On the midterm?
These fools could care less about their midterms~!
— Tap! Tap!
“Hey, hey! Sangmin! The teacher is getting mad!”
“Wha-?! Hehe! Sorry, teacher!”
“What’s this? Wow! Are you going to hit me, teacher?”
“Child abuse! Child abuse!”
If the teacher could swing a stick, they should exert dominance through sheer force, but sadly, that’s not something just anyone can pull off.
Only imposing male teachers or those with years of experience have that ability; it’s impossible for a cute teacher in her mid-twenties.
The English teacher was destined to suffer for many years—
— Whoosh!
“Uh, wha—”
“Kyah!”
“Are you insane?! Miss, miss! Are you crazy—”
— Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab!
“Kyah!”
Is she out of her mind?
Did she just stab a student ten times with a pen?!
“Get him out of here!”
“Get the language teacher from the other class!”
“Uwaaaah!”
“Take Sangmin to the nurse’s office!”
Finally, as the students and the brawny language teacher from the adjacent class managed to restrain the English teacher and pull her out, Sangmin was left covered in blood from the waist up.
…
By the time the police arrived, the English teacher was wearing a blank stare.
It was as if she had no idea what she’d just done.
“Minah… Is it just me, or is today really strange at school? Should I go home early?”
“… If you can.”
“Hehe, just kidding. Why would I—”
“No, seriously, do it if you can.”
“Uh?”
The first time was doubt, but the second was certainty.
Something strange was definitely happening at this school!
*
The abrupt and terrifying outburst from the cafeteria lady.
The unseen violent tendencies of the English teacher.
Neither of them acted on their own.
Someone is certainly using the ‘grimoire.’
I never expected that “Retrieve the grimoire” would imply such things!
*
Soon enough, the students began to believe that the events of the day were merely a bizarre accident.
Isn’t that the truth?
This world was originally full of the absurdity of violence.
Once, when I caught a crazed guy on the subway wielding a knife, when I asked why, he answered something along the lines of, “Life just sucks today.”
Compared to that, the cafeteria lady getting slighted by a student or the English teacher experiencing verbal abuse could be seen as somewhat justified rage.
As regular classes wrapped up, the students seemed to have forgotten the bloody chaos of hours earlier and started chattering away.
Nighttime self-study began in this atmosphere.
— Bang!
“Everyone, sit down!”
The huge hulking figure slammed a baseball bat on the podium, glaring fiercely.
It’s the gym teacher, who apparently was a pro baseball player before becoming a teacher.
Even if he spent years floating around as a minor leaguer, he’s got the build of a former athlete—extraordinary, to say the least.
But seriously… what’s with the baseball bat?
In a flash, the overwhelmed students squeaked and plopped down into their seats.
Realizing something weird, the class president raised his hand.
“Uh… Teacher, why did you bring the bat?”
When the gym teacher didn’t answer, the class president frowned and stood up.
“Hey! Why do you have the bat in class—”
“You rotten little punks! Can’t you sit down?!”
“No, what the—”
“Class president! If you don’t sit down right now, I swear I’ll knock your head off!”
The class president isn’t the smallest guy either; generally pretty stout and tough, but even he couldn’t handle this kind of unhinged pressure, stuttering as he sat down.
What the heck is happening?!
Surveys of the classroom revealed the hulking teacher switched gears and started lecturing.
“Have you thought about how much the English teacher has been hurt because of your rotten behavior? Class president!”
“Yes, yes!”
“Answer me!”
The class president had regained his composure and replied calmly.
“Uh, we apologize. There are a lot of silly kids, so the English teacher must have had a hard time. I will—uh, as class president, I’ll do my best to prevent this from happening again—”
“Who did it?”
“Huh?”
“Which brat started the trouble, you dolt!”
As the president fumbled, the gym teacher swung the bat, aiming for a desk at the back of the classroom.
— Crack!
“You little brat! I’m going to make you an absolute mess today!”
The baseball bat came swinging down on one of the boys’ heads!
What followed looked like a scene from a B-grade horror movie.
The shock to the skull caused the student’s eyeballs to pop out, rolling across the floor, while teeth went flying everywhere.
…
When I snapped back to reality, the classroom was truly chaotic.
Unfathomable terror spread rapidly, filling the classroom with screams, and a few students even wet themselves in fright.
I bolted out of the classroom!
*
Strange and brutal.
It seems someone lucky got their hands on the grimoire and is using that power to harm the students, but for what purpose?
Revenge for the English teacher’s suffering?
That doesn’t make sense; thanks to the violent outburst the English teacher unleashed, her entire teaching career just hit a wall.
*
Gasping for breath as I dashed through the hallway, the school had officially lost its marbles.
The announcement in my ear sounded more like a lunatic’s ramblings!
“Ah! Ah! This is a mic check. Attention, Hotel High students, every English word you memorize today will reshape the face of your future spouse. Ever heard that saying?”
“By the way, did you know the second part of that sentence was omitted?”
“Not only will your spouse’s face change, but yours will too!”
“Uwaaaaaah—!”
— Click! Click!
“Why of all days… why….”
Who on Earth is doing this?!
I’m an agent.
I have weapons that can protect me in emergencies.
I was trained on when and how to use those weapons.
But at this moment, I couldn’t tell who the enemy was!
— Ding! Ding!
Fortunately, someone from the Korean branch of the Inquisition picked up the phone.
I thought magical phenomena might block communication, but this is the phone created by the Vatican!
“Agent, Agent Kim Mina speaking. Currently at Hotel High—”
— Click!
It was cut off.
It wasn’t that the call didn’t go through; someone surely picked up on the Korean side but—
Someone intentionally cut the connection.
As if they left me stranded here in this dreadful school without a paddle.
*
Who could the culprit be?
Who’s carrying out these cruel acts due to the hotel’s mishaps with the grimoire?
It’s tough to discern right now.
There are just too many people.
If there were fewer people, I might be able to narrow it down—
One thing is for sure.
The influence of the grimoire isn’t that widespread.
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