Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

Chapter 178 - 178: The Nine Hands [V]

Two days passed.

As expected, Rexerd's disappearance did not go unnoticed.

Some of his so-called 'favorite' students seemed almost relieved by it, while others — the ones who only knew him as the charming young professor — appeared genuinely concerned for him.

The Academy, on the other hand, was confused.

Leaving the barrier surrounding the Ascent Isles wasn't something you could do casually. It required formal permission — an application submitted to the Grandmasters, followed by verification, approval, and the usual bureaucratic delay.

Of course, professors, instructors, and Aces were exempt from that process. They could come and go as they pleased.

But even they were tracked.

Every time they left or entered the Ascent Isles, it was logged in the security database.

And according to those logs, Rexerd had never left.

Granted, he was a B-rank genius alchemist. If he really wanted to disappear without a trace, he could probably find a way. But to the public eye, he had no reason to do so.

He wasn't involved in any scandals, had no known enemies, and hadn't issued any vague goodbyes.

So where did he go?

Why did he disappear?

No one had answers.

But the questions were loud enough. A formal investigation was already being discussed among the faculty.

And if that happened — if they started digging deep enough — things could get… messy. For me.

So I gave Juliana a simple instruction. She was going to send everything she had on Rexerd to the Academy. Every dirty secret, every blackmail file, all of it — anonymously.

It would shift their focus.

Instead of

Juliana lingered for a second, then rolled her eyes. "I still don't know why you needed me for that."

I threw up my arms. "Because I've never discarded a dead body before! There's no manual for this!"

She gave me a once-over before letting out a humorless snort like I'd made a bad joke. "Yeah, sure."

I placed a hand to my heart, pretending to be deeply wounded. "Excuse you. I may be morally flexible, but I'm not a serial killer."

Juliana paused in her tracks, then looked at me with a frown as if suddenly realizing I wasn't lying. "Wait. You're serious?"

Now I was actually offended. "What do you mean I'm serious? What exactly do you think my kill count is? I'm not showing it, but I'm still slightly shaken from killing him, you know?!"

She gave me a long, unreadable look. Then finally scoffed. "Huh. So you do have a conscience. That's... unexpected."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair. "Glad my emotional breakdown is such a pleasant surprise to you."

She ignored me, already unzipping the duffle bag and pulling out several folded plastic sheets, rolls of duct tape, and — concerningly — three different kinds of saw blades.

"...What are you planning to do?" I asked warily.

"Dismantle the body, submerge it in a highly potent alchemical acid, let it dissolve over a few days, then drain the slurry," she replied, completely nonchalant like this was a daily occurrence for her.

I stared at her. "Juli... why do you sound so experienced at this?"

She shot me a sideways glance but said nothing.

I started sweating.

"Welp!" I spun on my heel and marched toward the next pile of journals. "I'll, uh, leave you to it. Have fun!"