Chapter 173: The Anti-Columnist (Part 2)  

[Exclusive] Crossing the Line: ‘Night Hound’ / Views: 3,872

-Night Hound has gone too far. He has wronged many innocent people with crimes that have reached the heavens. Soon, the instruments of justice, such as spears, swords, arrows, and magic, will be transformed into retributive tools to bring him to the judgment seat… I, who witnessed Night Hound’s rampage at the Indulgentia Orphanage that night, can confidently assert that now is your last chance to make peace by going to the prison yourself and die peacefully!

<comment: 173=""></comment:>

ㅇㅇ (1st Year, Hot Department): Venetior is in chaos.

ㅇㅇ (1st Year, Cold Department): Seriously, they need to arrest ‘Night Hound.’ What is the royal family doing? LOL.

ㅇㅇ (2nd Year, Cold Department): Do you think they aren’t busy? Is the royal family your friend’s house, or what? These kids nowadays, tsk tsk.

Advertising

ㅇㅇ (4th Year, Hot Department): Our fellow students, we all hate ‘Night Hound’!! That’s for sure!

ㅇㅇ (4th Year, Cold Department): You’re absolutely right! ^^*

ㅇㅇ (1st Year, Hot Department): Ugh, this comment section smells like old people.

ㅇㅇ (3rd Year, Cold Department): Good article, share it! Always stay happy, hehe.

ㅇㅇ (1st Year, Hot Department): But who wrote this column? Did they really see ‘Night Hound’?

*****

Advertising

Vikir was a little surprised when he read the morning newspaper today.

‘I didn’t think that my column would get published.’

He had carefully selected words that would be well-received when he wrote it, and it seemed to have worked. The views were surprisingly high, and the comments were quite lively.

“Is the fear of the Night Hound spreading widely?”

Lately, in Venetior, parents often told crying children, “If you keep crying, the Night Hound will come for you!” It seemed like he had firmly established himself as the villain that struck fear into the Empire.

“I need to be more careful when I go demon hunting in the future.”

Advertising

If he bumped into the Venetior Knights while wandering outside the academy, it would become a nuisance.

As Vikir contemplated his future plans, a cold voice reached his ears.

“Vikir.”

Banshee Morg, the professor, spoke with a chilling tone, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to follow Vikir closely.

“Have you been lost in thought again today, with your eyes closed? That’s not like you.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“You’re still as bold as ever. I’ll have to see if you have the necessary skills.”

Banshee Morg had always disliked Vikir. To make things difficult for him, he frequently gave him tricky puzzles that he couldn’t solve or extremely difficult problems that even graduate students couldn’t answer.

“Due to the massive appearance of giant arachnids, the Imperial Army is struggling on the western front. Distinguish between small creatures of less than one meter in length and large creatures of more than ten meters in length, and explain your approach for each.”

“Goblins are causing increasing harm to travelers. Goblins are small and weak monsters, but they threaten those who do not know how to use mana because they gather in hordes. Discuss practical measures to prevent goblin attacks on travelers leaving Venetior through the gate.”

“We don’t have much time, so answer quickly. Yes or no. The creatures causing the most damage to the knights and wizards guarding the Plateau Fortress are not Wyverns, although that’s not entirely false. What do you think?”

…The problem was that Vikir had never answered any of these questions incorrectly.

“For small creatures with a body length of less than 1 meter, a simple solution is to sprinkle salt, sugar, or soda on them to inflict lethal damage. As for large creatures, they can be easily repelled by shooting copper-tipped arrows.”“Goblins have a sensitive sense of smell and are averse to foul odors. If there are fallen fruits from the caca trees lining the road, instead of discarding them, it would be beneficial to gather them and provide travelers leaving Venetior with a bag of them. When encountering goblins, throwing caca tree fruits at them will cause most of them to flee due to the foul odor.”

“Yes.”

Vikir answered Banshee Morg’s aggressive questions with composure. The reason for this was twofold. First, Banshee Morg’s specialized courses always revolved around practical monster strategies, which had been Vikir’s specialty for decades, making it impossible for him to make mistakes.

Second, Banshee Morg’s questioning style was unique. Given Vikir’s personality of not wanting to attract attention, he would have preferred to answer the questions incorrectly as Morg wanted, but Banshee Morg would deduct attitude points from the entire Cold Department if any student answered incorrectly, which made it necessary for Vikir to fend off his attacks.

Vikir thought that it was better to receive extra points for correctly solving problems and receive less attention from other students, as people tend to remember grievances for a long time but quickly forget the benefits received through others.

On the other hand.

“…”

Banshee Morg couldn’t express his anger even though all his attack questions had been answered. Vikir’s answers were the kind that could only be given by someone with decades of experience on the battlefield, which made it impossible for him to point out any mistakes.

Even the academy’s professors, including himself, had only encountered these practical aspects as theoretical knowledge at their desks. How could an 18-year-old freshman know about these matters?

And he’s so knowledgeable about it, too. Moreover, among the answers Vikir just gave, some included strategies and theories that have never been discovered up to this point. So, Professor Banshee could only wear a more suspicious expression.

“Oh… It reminds me of the Venompion incident from before.”

A scorpion-like monster that lived in the desert. Who could have known that it had a hidden second venomous stinger?

In the past, Professor Banshee had sent a sample of the “Venompion” to the Royal Demon Research Institute to confirm whether Vikir’s claims were true or not, and in the end, everything was proven to be true, gaining attention from the academic community.

When interview requests flooded in, he waved them off, saying, “I didn’t research this; it was my student. Hmph!”

Since then, Professor Banshee had been watching Vikir with great interest (or so he claimed).

Ultimately, this time as well, Professor Banshee had no choice but to acknowledge Vikir’s expertise.

“You are truly extraordinary, quite exceptional.” In theory, you could even teach your classmates, or rather, your seniors, here…maybe even me.”

“It’s not to that extent.”

At Vikir’s brief response, Professor Banshee’s expression contorted once more.

Finally, he said with a growl, “I hope you’ll consider enrolling to graduate school in the future. And make sure you come under my guidance….”

For the first time, Vikir felt a sense of foreboding. The graduate school at the academy was notorious for its intensity. There were even tales of war captives from other countries who had become slaves, treating graduate students at the academy as pitiful beings. But the first-year newcomers who were still unaware of this fact stared at Vikir with wide-open eyes, their curiosity shining brightly.

* * *

After the class ended, Vikir joined the crowd of students, all preparing for their next class or heading back to the dormitory. Among them, Banshee Morg, Joint teacher for ecology and culture of monsters and savages, was blocking Vikir’s path.

“Vikir.”

He called Vikir with a stern voice, slightly tinged with displeasure.

As Vikir turned his head, Banshee approached him with a slightly twisted smile on his face and asked, “About your column from last time, the one published in the newspaper. Did you really see Night Hound during your volunteer work?”

“I told you last time, it was as I mentioned. I merely happened to come across them briefly while walking in the corridor at night.”

“…Is that so? You didn’t recognize their face or voice?”

“No.”

“Alright then, that’s enough.”

Banshee muttered to himself, “These annoying little things keep buzzing around,” as he wrinkled his brow.

Afterward, he turned to Vikir and said, “If any bothersome external reporters are asking for interviews, tell me. I will protect the students in the Academy newspaper club.”“Understood.”

Vikir responded briefly, and Banshee nodded.

“…Oh, wait.”

Just as he was about to turn away, Banshee suddenly seemed to recall something and turned back.

“On the last day of volunteer work, there’s a tradition for male and female students to gather and have a drinking party. I know about that, but I don’t have an obligation to turn a blind eye to it, right?”

“Is that so?”

Banshee made a sharp gesture with his hand, deducting one point from Vikir’s attitude score.

“…Don’t wander around at night from now on.”

Vikir nodded nonchalantly, and Banshee snorted before leaving.

Finally, Vikir’s friends, who had been watching from a distance, approached.

First was Figgy.

“Vikir! Your attitude score just got deducted, why?”

“He said I violated the nighttime restriction rules on the last day of volunteer work.”

“Oh! Are you crazy? Did you tell the truth? Please don’t lie! If you get more demerits here, you’ll have to go back for volunteer work again! This time, it may only be within the Academy, but…”

Lately, due to the peculiar state of affairs in the country, the academy’s policy was to refrain from sending students for off-campus volunteer work. Instead, they might end up doing on-campus volunteer work during the golden festival period after the midterms.

That’s why Figgy was upset.

And following Figgy, Tudor and Sancho were there.

“Hey, Vikir! What did Banshee say?”

“He gave me a lecture.”

They were fellow members of the newspaper club and were already aware that Vikir was the author of the column.

Tudor broke the silence. “Hey, Vikir. Did you really see Night Hound back then?”

“Yes.”

“Damn, man! Why didn’t you say so?! That’s why you seemed so serious when you came back that day.”

Tudor approached Vikir with a serious expression, patting his shoulder. “Meeting that vicious villain must have been terrifying. I thought you were lost in thought because of that urinating incident.”

“Should you face something like that again, talk to us about your worries,” Sancho added, standing by Vikir’s side and nodding.

Meanwhile, their friends asked Vikir about the appearance and terror of Night Hound. He responded casually, “Night Hound is tall and well-built, seemed quite old. Wore a mask on their face, and covered their whole body with a black cloak. The voice felt hoarse and distant; it was hard to hear from afar.”

Upon hearing this, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy reacted with a shiver, making comments about how terrifying the experience must have been. They praised Vikir’s courage, mentioning that Night Hound was likely at least a mid-tier Graduator and wondered if the night hound could outmatch their professors.

The group of freshmen, once full of themselves, planning to capture Night Hound, now appeared fluffy and harmless.

Vikir found their reaction somewhat adorable.

Just then, another fluffy puppy stood in Vikir’s way. This time, it was a handsome young man with dark hair and a cold expression beneath his fluffy appearance, with a small badge shaped like a snake on his chest.

As Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy saw his face, their expressions slightly stiffened.

“…Granola.”

Granola De Reviadon.

From one of the seven noble families representing the Empire, the venomous Reviadon (Leviathon in manhwa) family.

He was one of the top students in the freshman class, as well as its arrogant representative – the arrival of the first-year cohort’s leading figure.