‘I’m not wrong.’

I was certain of it…

How do I exp—no, there’s no need to explain. I’m right and that’s all I need to think. That's all I needed to think.

So I replied.

“No problem.”

As for why she was thanking me, hell if I knew. I’d rather operate under a misconception than overthink my response.

“So it was you. Thank you!” She bowed now, having confirmed some deed I had done.

‘Was it because of the exam?’

No, that couldn't be it. She clearly said, “So it was you!”—meaning she was confirming something she was uncertain of… It was a roundabout way of asking indirect questions.

Like how it confirmed a certain truth for her, it confirmed a certain truth for me.

'She has a bad character.'

It was exactly this method of inquisition that confirmed it for me. As for what kind of crazy she was, that was still to be known. What I can say for sure is that I'm not wrong. I'm not.

“It’s fine,” I said, motioning for her to unbow herself.

So she got up.

As much as I didn’t want to think pessimistically, this action of bowing confirmed something else for me.

Bowing and smiles were mere pleasantries that held no meaning.

It was the same in this world.

‘But what would she thank me for?’

Thinking back, I specifically recalled her sense of urgency during the exam. This meant that it was likely for the two to be tied together. So what was her motive? Was it the combat squadron thing?

It had always been my presumption that the goal of the exam was related to physical combat. The deal with collecting coins was a front, or so I think.

Even so, she somehow lost the coins.

Thus it was unlikely that it had anything to do with my actions during the exam. That means the behavior to scrutinize would be after. So what did I do after the exam?

‘...’

Now that I think of it, absolutely nothing.

Unless I triggered some sort of event while reading that book, it was strange to be thanked for anything.

“I didn’t think you’d put in a word for me with the professor. Thank you.”

Again with the empty compliments.

The more she said them, the less value they had.

But what was this about the professor? Which professor? The only name I had committed to memory was Eigenvalue; did it have to do with him?

‘He’s the manager of the squadron, so it’s probably that.’

My next words tested that hypothesis.

“It’s good that we’re in this together now,” I said.

The meaning could be interpreted in multiple ways. But in context, there was only a single interpretation.

I didn’t like speaking in such a manner, but as the saying goes, “He who battles monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster.”—or something along those lines.

But sometimes, it was more efficient for monsters to defeat monsters.

“Yeah,” she said, putting on a smile. One not too small, and not too wide.

“Is that all?” I replied with the same old same old.

“That’s about… Oh right, have you seen Samantha lately?”

“Samantha?”

‘Who the hell is… Oh.’

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I almost forgot that that was Sam’s name…

‘Wait, didn’t Benni say something about her?’

“Did something happen?” I asked. I wouldn’t normally ask questions to these personalities, but my curiosity was larger than my disgust.

From an alternate perspective, it would feed into the misconception that I was promoting a possible friendship between us.

“I’m not sure. She wasn’t in class today and I haven’t seen her since last night.”

“I see.”

Since last night, huh? If she was with Melissa last night, did that mean she was actively avoiding me…

“I’m going to go eat quickly, classes are about to start soon.”

“Ah, of course! I’ll see you later.”

Later as in dinner time? Yeah. No. Fuck off.

“Yup,” I put my hand up as a sort of goodbye before heading back into the cafeteria.

Spotting Benni at a table, I went over and took a seat beside him.

His grim reaper look was misplaced in this educational institution. One might even wonder if someone died of food poisoning to prompt his appearance in the most random of places: the cafeteria.

And somehow, he had not drawn much attention to himself.

“You’re back.”

“...”

“What happened?”

I didn’t feel like explaining. Even though I trusted him more than most people, I doubt he’d understand my paranoia.

“Good things,” I said. Or something like that.

“Is that so.” He took that for what it was, knowing not to pry further.

“By the way, someone’s watching you.”

Hearing that, I looked him in the shadowy portion of his face where his eyes would have been.

“On that table with only a single person.”

With my peripheral vision, I made out the appearance of a white-haired kid… Did I know him?

“You sure?” I said in my normal voice. We both talked quietly not because we thought anyone would hear, but because that was how we normally spoke.

“Yeah. He’s using a Pseudo-domain to focus on our table.”

I gleaned another look at the kid from the side of my vision so I didn’t appear suspicious. And that white-haired student was sitting away from us; even with his back facing us.

But I trusted his judgment more than my senses.

“What’s a Pseudo-domain?”

“It’s an imitation of a Domain.”

“That doesn’t explain it,” I replied.

“I thought you’d know that jargon.”

“Just because I used to read all sorts of textbooks doesn’t mean I know everything.”

He always overestimated my knowledge.

“I figured you would have enjoyed studying magic textbooks.”

Magic textbooks? Sounds interesting… If I could read them.

“I figured you know I’m not a polyglot.”

“You’re not?” I could tell he had a surprised (Pikachu) face underneath that cloak.

“I didn’t even go to college and you expect me to be able to learn other languages?”

“You’re basically as knowledgeable as a physician so… Yeah…”

Okay.

“Say, what happened since I… I guess, how should I say it…”

“Died,” I said for him.

“Yeah…”

“...”

“Sung-in?”

“Well, Elon Musk established a colony on Mars.”

“What!?” He didn't seem to believe my words.

“String theory was disproved.”

“String—isn’t that the fancy physics thing?”

“Yeah,” I said, keeping a straight face.

“What else?”

“A virus that makes people cough a lot appeared.”

“Was it worse than Covid-19?”

“Not at first, but gradually, yeah.”.

“But how bad can coughing get?”

“Apparently zombies,” I blurted out.

He looked at me for a brief second. Of course, my face has always been unreadable.

“Do you mean it?”

“Yeah,” I reassured him.

“Zombie infections spread from coughing,” I continued with a straight face.

“...”

We both looked each other in the eye for a moment. He was trying to discern the truth from my words.

“You’re just plain lying.”

“Even if those were true, I’ve been living here for thousands of years already. Did you think I’d really ask to know about Earth?”

“I guess not.”

He figured it out pretty quickly.

“Spill the beans.”

“...”

“Tell me the juicy stuff—what happened after you got enlisted, man!”

“Enlisted?” Was I supposed to say something interesting?

“It was boring, I guess.”

I stared at my plate that I hadn’t touched yet. I ought to eat soon.

“Is that really all?”

“I also killed a lot of people if that’s what you want to know.”

He didn’t touch his food, committing all his attention to me.

“You say that as if killing is something just anyone can do.”

Contrary to my expectations, he wasn’t repulsed. Nor was he disappointed in me.

“That’s all it was.” I could tell that he had experienced his fair share of deaths too.

“Really?”

“It was fun,” I wanted to add. But I didn’t.

‘Why was it fun?’

If I were to reflect on anything, it should be that. But the idea never came up till now.

“I thought most soldiers don’t experience shooting people.”

“They don’t,” I answered. “It’s a lifestyle.”

“Did you have companions at least?”

“...”

“Nevermind that, we should eat first,” he corrected.

“Yes. We should…”