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HEL SCANS
[Translator – Angel Dust]
[Proofreader – Prototype]
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Chapter 29
Inside a dimly lit cave, beyond flickering torches, a woman is flipping through documents.
Rustle― Rustle―
Languid glances, gestures that seem annoyed, even the tapping of her foot appears indifferent.
To an outsider, it would seem as though a stunning beauty is being burdened by her tasks.
“Sigh… What a disappointment. All of you. What is this? Nothing useful.”
Indeed, she is occupied with her work. She is indeed a stunning beauty.
But if one were to glimpse beyond that, into the hellish tableau unfolding, witnessing the scattered corpses behind her, they would quickly abandon such thoughts.
“This is fake. That’s fake too. This one seems real, but it’s essentially useless.”
Having confirmed everything written on the papers, Eloise lets out a long sigh.
Based on information obtained from the Imperial Special Forces, she had been relentlessly active for days.
As a result, she managed to uncover a few hideouts of the rogues involved in the recent imperial terrorism.
Having found them, there was only one task left befitting the title ‘Extermination’.
Yet, despite dealing with them quite efficiently, they were merely at an intermediate stage.
There was no one significant enough to call the shots. Not a single clue pointing to the leadership.
It felt like pulling out weeds without extracting the roots.
Sighing once again, Eloise stood up from her seat.
Her white feet shone brightly. She was indeed barefoot.
Originally, she had sandals on, but they fell off during the resistance from the rogues.
That was it. That was all the damage they had done to her.
Walking slowly, she poked one of the corpses with her white toes.
“Well, I expected this. It’s strange to precisely know the leaders when the ones captured are just foot soldiers. They wouldn’t treat individuals of such importance as disposable commodities.”
Despite this, Eloise’s reason for personally taking action was simple.
Because she was ordered to. It’s a hassle, but what can one do? When ordered, one must comply.
‘Wouldn’t it be better to find a man quickly, get pregnant, and retire for childcare?’
And I’d much rather have a human man than a narrow-minded, self-centered elf.
Scratching her flabby belly, Eloise was lost in thought.
‘In the end, we didn’t catch any heads… it’s not like there hasn’t been any harvest.’
Despite thoroughly combing through, not a single leader emerged.
They were all mid-level operatives following orders from above.
Even though we’ve found every possible hiding spot for the remnants of Luzernes within elven territory!
It’s not overestimating to say that our Extermination Unit’s search capabilities are exceptional.
But despite our thorough efforts, why aren’t they showing up? The only conclusion to draw is…
“So, you lot… aren’t quite abundant on our turf, huh?”
A seductive smile curls on Eloise’s lips.
It seems another trip to the Empire is in order.
* * *
“A festival?”
What’s with this sudden interruption?
“Oh. Karl. You didn’t know?”
“Hey, Shulifen. You’re stating the obvious again. Of course, Karl wouldn’t know. He hasn’t been at the Academy for a while. Are you really suffering from youth dementia, Karl?”
“Ah, right. Sorry, Karl. You’ve never seen the autumn festival.”
“….”
Assholes… Stop hitting me with facts like that…
Making fun of me for joining the military a month after entering the Academy, seriously?
“There’s a festival held at the Academy every autumn.”
“From freshmen to seniors. It’s a day enjoyed by professors and other Academy affiliates.”
“It lasts as short as 2 nights and 3 days, or as long as 4 nights and 5 days.”
“In recent years, due to the Luzernes War, we haven’t been able to celebrate as grandly as before. Even if it was a bit long, it was only two days. We can’t be too carefree when there’s a war going on in the south.”
“But now that the war is over, this year’s festival will be grand again, right?”
The four nodded in agreement to my question.
A festival. The Academy’s autumn festival. It’s good. It’s a good thing.
Even when I try to recall my past life, doesn’t the word “festival” conjure up some decent memories?
Given that the Academy serves as the equivalent of a university here, it would be odd if there weren’t any.
However, there’s one issue here.
“Hey, you guys.”
“Huh?”
“What is it, Karl?”
“I’m a freshman, so I can enjoy the festival without any problems. But you guys in the senior class, shouldn’t you be working on graduation assignments even during the festival period? Surely you’re not thinking of just goofing off because of the festival?”
You could be put on academic probation, they say.
Yet you seem too nonchalant about it. If it were me, I’d be gnashing my teeth, saying, ‘I absolutely refuse to fail!’
…Ah, damn. Suddenly, a nightmare from bootcamp comes to mind.
During rifle training, I couldn’t hit a single target, and the instructor was really furious.
He said I was wasting precious gunpowder and bullets, just scattering them into the air.
I get it. I do. Gunpowder isn’t cheap, I knew that too.
But damn it! How do you do something that doesn’t work? I’m sure I aimed and fired!
Instructor! I did everything right, the targets were clean and I almost went crazy!
“Trainee Karl!! Are you kidding me right now?! Why are there more bullet holes in the target next to yours?!”
“I’m sorryyy!”
“How is it that you can’t hit a single target?! You won’t graduate from basic training until you pass the shooting test! You better prepare for academic probation!!”
Even now, I really don’t know how I managed to get through rifle training.
Was it me shooting, or did a fellow trainee from the adjacent row help out?
…Come to think of it, the guys on the left and right seemed to miss a few shots more than usual, didn’t they?
“Hey, Karl. What do you think we are? We’re doing well on our graduation assignments, and our exam scores aren’t bad.”
“Right. We’re all in the top ranks, Karl.”
“But still, you say we could be put on academic probation. What’s that all about?”
“It’s just for not getting enough points in your classes.”
“So, even if we study instead of enjoying ourselves during the festival period, it won’t make much of a difference.”
I’ve never really worried about others while living my life. ‘Worry about yourself instead of others,’ was the motto of my past life.
But right at this moment, I’m worried about the futures of two dukedoms and the future of the Empire.
I’m not exactly normal either, but… at least I’m not a parasite on society, am I?
On the contrary, those guys are all heirs. They’re the heirs of noble families. The future lords!
Those guys are really something. Dukes… Imperial Lords…! How could this be!!
“So, here’s the thing, Karl. We have something planned.”
“Just don’t. Please. Just don’t do anything and quietly stay in the library. That’s what seniors do.”
“Haha! It’s already too late! We’ve already applied for a place and prepared the tents!”
Why are they so action-oriented? Don’t they ever think before they act…!
“Hehehe… So, what do you want to do?”
“It’s nothing special. What we have in mind is this!”
What they handed me… were nothing other than several cookbooks.
“Wait, are you planning to set up a cooking booth?”
“That’s right. It’s the heartfelt cooking seniors prepare for their juniors! How about it, Karl? Doesn’t just hearing about it warm your heart?”
I feel like my head is spinning, and once I start eating, the fatal disease, ‘academic probation,’ might come over me.
With a wry smile, I took the cookbook Joachim offered. I roughly looked through its contents…
“Just a moment. Are you guys… really capable of making all of this?”
“We’ve practiced several times already. Don’t worry.”
“No, damn it. Practice isn’t the point. Can you make it at a level that people can actually eat?”
The cookbooks they handed me weren’t just recipes for simple snacks. They were full-course meals.
It’s something you’d expect to eat at a luxurious restaurant. I don’t know about anything else, but one thing was certain: it wouldn’t be easy to pull off at the festival.
At first, I tried to understand. Yeah, those guys were always used to eating delicious food.
They’re not ordinary nobles, they’re from distinguished families recognized by the Empire, both dukes and imperial lords.
It’s not unreasonable for them to engage in such nonsense even in a spirited place like a festival. But still…
“…Damn it! You Lunatics! Do you even have a brain!? Setting up a temporary business by borrowing tents, what’s that? And now, you want to do fancy cooking?”
“Why, why! Karl! We’ve got to do this much…!”
“That’s what you guys can afford? You’ve only practiced cooking a few times, how the hell are you going to do what’s in that cookbook over there!”
Are these bastards really the ones who experienced the Academy’s autumn festival three years before me?
Is there some rule about operating such booths at the Academy festival that I’m unaware of?
Unable to bear it any longer, I went straight to see Senior Marcus.
The guy who used to say weird things like how busy the teaching assistant duties are, how sad the graduate students are.
Although he was a strange senior, soon after my question, he sighed and held his forehead.
“Karl.”
“Yes, Senior.”
“Go and stop those kids.”
“I was planning to do that anyway. If they don’t stop, I’ll knock them out and hang them on the drying line during the festival to dry them out properly.”
“Don’t go that far.”
The next day. I grabbed the four protagonists and went into urgent discussions.
“…Got it? Cancel the fancy cooking. The turnover rate is ridiculous, and considering the ingredients, preparation time, and labor costs… that’s settled. Anyway, it’s too much of a loss when you consider all those factors.”
“Karl. Do we really need to nitpick when our purpose isn’t necessarily about making money?”
“It’s not about money, Alexander.”
It’s for you juniors, and for my reputation. I don’t want to hear people saying that although my classmates look fine on the surface, they’re idiots on the inside.
And then, I might end up getting that kind of evaluation too!
“Anyway. Those are the items you’ll be selling during the festival.”
“We’re selling stuff?”
I handed out roughly scribbled guidebook pamphlets to the guys.
The four of them, passing the pamphlet back and forth, started scratching their heads.
“What’s this, Karl? It’s supposed to be fish, why use flour?”
“What’s this round thing? And what’s inside… sugar? Can we make this with just that?”
“You mean to tell me that we’ll only start after dinner? Oh, you mean we’re supposed to enjoy the festivities until then, Karl?”
Those guys muttering about why it starts in the evening and whether this would attract attention or not.
‘To be honest, I don’t know. I’m not interested. Whether you succeed with the food booth or not, this is just me doing it to satisfy myself a hundred percent.’
During my time in the military, I can’t tell you how cold it was during the winter. I thought I was going to die for real.
Every time, memories of fish-shaped buns and hot pot from my past life became so vivid that I thought I was going to die.
I missed those times when we used to laugh and shout like crazy!
‘So, you guys make it. I’ll eat it.’
Considering how much trouble I’ve had with these guys lately, it should be okay to indulge legally! Hehehe!
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HEL SCANS
[Translator – Angel Dust]
[Proofreader – Prototype]
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