“Welcome to history class! My name is Professor Androv, and I will be your professor for your first year.”

She spoke with a casual confidence, hands clasped behind her back as she paced up and down the lecture hall. Tapping a ruler against the chalkboard, she explained the history behind the summoning of otherworlders. A massive magical projection shifted through many images of gruesome fights against them.

“Lately, the intervals between summonings have been increasing,” she continued. “These outsiders bring with them strange powers… And curses.”

One such curse : Mana Disease.

A sickness introduced by otherworlders centuries back. Currently incurable, this disease most commonly affects newborns. Where once nearly everybody had the ability to manipulate mana, now an unfortunately few were born with their mana organs crippled, unable to cast magic. Children have been disowned for getting this disease, as it blocks you from using the many skills that require mana.

“Typically, the more mana one possesses, the longer your lifespan,” she continued. “Even the weakest mages far outlive the common person, with archwizards living for centuries. Indeed, those who are afflicted with mana disease are bound to a tragic fate : significantly reduced lifespans.”

As the lecture neared its end, it shifted towards a more practical warning.

“If you wish to live a long life, never travel alone! I cannot stress this enough. Outside of designated safe zones, you are prone to ambushes and assassinations. If you die, that’s on you for being unprepared. You don’t get a second chance out in the real world.”

I stifled a laugh. ‘Ironic, huh?’

The class erupted into murmurs. Some students gripped their weapons tighter, while others looked around with an amused smirk. I already knew the rules—or rather, the lack thereof.

There is scarce prey to hunt for experience atop these mountains. What is a quick, convenient source of experience? That’s right—other students. I’ve found that the bathroom is a treasure trove of experience—nobody expects to be caught with their pants down—literally. Imagine dying while taking a shit. Cause of death : Shat without a lookout. If I died like that, I would totally come back as a ghost to haunt my killer.

Lucky for me, I don’t have such weaknesses. My body doesn’t require sustenance—I can perfectly extract every ounce of nutrients from food, even from inorganic material. I’ve gotten several weird looks for eating oranges whole.

Suspending from the ceiling, I wait for my prey. The academy demands that at least 5% of students per year get…. Demonitized. Simple as that. The strong live and the weak die.

“If you die, it is better to be a stepping stone for a fellow student than a monster.”

Outside of class, the campus is deathly quiet. Those who wander alone are either foolhardy or those confident in their skills. Occasionally, someone bumps into the wrong person and a bloodbath ensues.

The cafeteria isn’t much safer. Gourmet meals free of charge, buffet-style. But food poisoning is just another part of the curriculum. You never know if your next meal is laced with paralytics, a deadly toxin, or… Cough. A laxative. First year students constantly badger the administration for change.

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The response? A rough dwarven bureaucrat shrugged, picking his nose. “You should be grateful you are still alive to complain. Be glad that you live to see another day.”

That incident may or may not be my fault.

…

All part of my master plan. After all, what better way is there to lure people into the bathroom?

Early next morning, I peeked into the stalls from last night’s massacre.

I wrinkled my nose from the rancid smell. Blood and feces smeared everywhere. Clearly somebody didn’t make it. The janitors really have their work cut out for them.

“This is a health hazard,” I muttered.

So far, surprisingly, only around 2% of the first year students died. People were being too cautious, staying in the dorms all day. I’ve concluded that the pope candidate must be hiding somewhere in the dorms.

After the initial chaos, the students split into two factions—nobles and merchants.

The nobles as future leaders of their respective countries are protected by their family’s political influence. Attacking one might spark a war or a massive manhunt after your graduation.

The merchants are ruthless opportunists, drawn by the scent of gold. They profit from escort services, weapon deals, and assassinations for hire.

Both factions aim to recruit Yuki. After all, they have a common goal—to build connections. As the future crown princess, she was a valuable asset. However, she refused them both.

Good for me—I also remained unaffiliated in this way, allowing me to hunt whoever I pleased.

But my freedom wouldn’t last for much longer.

Students are becoming more proficient in detection and defensive skills, making it that much harder to ambush them.

Slamming my pencil down in frustration, I swore that I’m going to kill the teacher next.

‘This is so fucking boring.’

The ranking battles are over. At least that was something fun to look forward to. We all received a pendant that increased experience gain, which I’m itching to use.

Professor Androv began to hand out flyers as the end bell rang. The classroom filled with hushed whispers.

“We are introducing a bounty system as part of your semester finals,” she announced. “Failure means expulsion. This semester has been too passive, never in my–”

My eyes narrowed as I read the flyers.

RULES :

EVERY STUDENT STARTS WITH 100 POINTS

KILLING ANOTHER STUDENT STEALS ALL OF THEIR POINTS

EVERYDAY, YOU LOSE 20 POINTS

REACHING 0 POINTS = EXPULSION

STUDENTS ARE ENCOURAGED TO PLACE GOLD BOUNTIES

The monolith will display your bounties and rankings.*

A murmur spread throughout the classroom.

I glanced at my badge—murky black, while other students have badge colors ranging from white to gray.

“The badges indicate your general ranking, the darker, the higher! Good luck!!” shouted Professor Androv.

At the colosseum, I felt several pairs of eyes on me, causing the hair on the back of my neck to prick.

“That’s her right there! After her!!” someone shouted, pointing.

Several students pulled out their swords, imbuing them with aura. A couple of mages began to chant spells, filling the air with a kaleidoscope of colors.

I sighed, chucking a smoke bomb at the ground.

A murky white mist erupted, swallowing me whole.

“Quick!! Cast wind magic to disperse the smoke!”

The haze cleared, revealing something unsightly—a giant, bloodsucking midge, its mandibles clacking as saliva dripped down on the floor.

Screams of terror filled the arena. The headmaster visibly panicked and the smell of piss wafted up into the air.

“SCREEEEE!!”

Immediately, several people dropped to the ground, eardrums ruptured and bleeding.

The problem? The concealment spell normally enveloping the academy shattered with a crack. A swarm of midges blotted out the sky, with their heads and claws twisting erratically, searching for prey.

The midges darting and dancing around in chaotic motions descended, their chitinous shells clanking as the students fought back in vain. Blood spattered and bones cracked. The lucky ones were granted a quick death, while the others were lifted away, disappearing into the swarm.

What made the problem worse is that the entomology department was coincidentally on a field trip, studying the midges.

An alarm sounded across the academy.

The professors? Completely overwhelmed.

“Head to the entomology labs for insecticide!” Odgezar barked, trying to regain control.

Meanwhile, I disappeared into the fray, reverting back to my humanoid form.

The next morning, a silent vigil was held for the dead. Over a hundred casualties sustained, with two professors missing or dead. The headmaster looked furious, veins popping on his face. But the best part? Today was a grace period to honor the dead—fighting was banned.

A well-deserved break.

And thanks to last night? I’ve obtained more points than ever.