Chapter Thirty-Five: A Special Mission-The Roaming Homebody(Just a lolicon.)

"Um..." A girl in a kimono stepped out from the backseat of the sedan, and in that instant, the colors of the world seemed to pale around her. Yet, a certain shameless fellow remained perfectly unmoved, offering only a formulaic, "Welcome to our school. I’m responsible for taking you to your dormitory; your roommate will explain everything else." His tone was cold, but his demeanor did not make one feel unwelcome. For even as he spoke, he muttered under his breath, "Damn it, Golden Lion." At first, the girl was intrigued—after all, it was not every day that someone so blatantly ignored her status just to play games. But seeing him dismiss her entirely, anger began to simmer beneath her composed exterior.

"Excuse me, sir..." The man standing beside the girl, obviously her attendant, noticed the subtle change in his mistress’s mood and was about to step forward to remind Lancer of himself.

In a blink, the right hand that had been holding his PSP appeared beneath the attendant’s throat.

"Your people have explained the rules to you, haven’t they..." Lancer’s lazy air vanished, replaced by a chilling ruthlessness. "Only those with permission may enter here. Anyone else faces one outcome—death." Though society was ruled by law, some places—like the school behind Lancer—had their own peculiarities.

The attendant had never expected that the apparently deadbeat Lancer would suddenly transform into a cold-blooded butcher. The sensation was like standing before a block of ice, his blood threatening to freeze at any moment.

"Could you let him go, sir?" For the sake of a girl—a particularly adorable one—Lancer decided to show mercy.

"Everyone gets only one chance. Next time, it won’t be so simple." He knew the other party was anti-war back in District Eleven, but no soldier could be expected to like people from District Eleven without reason.

Even after he withdrew, the baleful aura Lancer exuded from slaughtering demons startled both of them. "So this is the place the master found for her? Incredible—even the teacher leading us is this formidable," the bodyguard thought, finally understanding why his boss had warned him not to act rashly here, lest he die without even knowing how.

"Miss, let’s go." At her signal, the bodyguard bowed and left in the car.

"Keep them under surveillance. If they make any suspicious moves, eliminate them." Once the car had driven off, Lancer’s expression changed, as if caught in some inner struggle, and then, with no attempt to hide it from Keiko, he spoke these words to the empty air.

"You...!" Keiko was furious, but recalled her mother’s teachings as a Yamato Nadeshiko and refrained from saying anything unseemly. Her puffed cheeks, however, betrayed her annoyance.

Lancer, standing just within her line of sight, allowed a faint smile to appear before turning away.

"Kidding," he said, and then flashed a brilliant, almost infuriating grin—so dazzling it made one want to punch him.

"You...!" Her cheeks swelled even more, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Don’t mind me, just a joke. Welcome to Seaside Academy." Now, Lancer smiled in a completely different way, ruffling her hair gently. Gone was the icy coldness; in its place was a ray of warmth.

"This person is so strange," she thought, as her tears, unbidden, faded away.

"Let’s go. It’s your first day here. Since it’s the opening ceremony, no one will be around for another two hours. I’ll give you a tour." Now, Lancer seemed less like a reclusive teacher and more like a sunny, reliable older brother.

"Mm~" Completely thrown off by his abrupt changes, Keiko could only follow along without another word.

"This is..., and here..., and here..." Lancer dutifully led the way, introducing the sights.

Meanwhile, elsewhere...

Surveillance Headquarters—

"Ugh!" "What the hell!" "Screwed!" "My eyes!" People collapsed onto the floor or slumped over their desks.

"What happened here?" Cicada, assigned as the girl’s personal guard, had no mission at the moment and thus stopped by the surveillance room—a decision he’d never admit was to avoid that muscleman and his Spartan declarations.

But as he opened the door, he found everyone inside sprawled out as if dead. His first thought was an intruder, but there were no signs at the entrance, and the collapse was too spontaneous to be staged. No infiltration, no enemy within—he couldn’t imagine what had happened until he saw the monitor: Lancer, beaming as he guided the girl, making her laugh behind her hand. At that, Cicada nearly coughed up blood. He immediately hit the record button.

"I’ll die with a smile on my face!" And, succumbing like the others, he joined them on the floor.

When the opening ceremony ended, Lancer’s duties as a guide concluded as well. With a wave and a smile, he left, and the others gradually rose to resume their work.

After the crowd had dispersed, Cicada gathered everyone in the meeting room. Each person maintained their own unique pose of “death” until the recording finished.

"I think our outstanding operative ‘Viper’ might have been taken out," the muscleman said, sitting in the center with his head in his hands.

"Seconded!"

...

In an instant, almost everyone voted in favor.

"Do you all find this amusing?" a voice suddenly rang out.

"Captain!" Instantly, everyone stood at attention as a stern-faced middle-aged man appeared on the screen where the video had just played.

"Enough with the games. Who here could take out Viper without anyone noticing? And didn’t any of you see that boy’s smile?" A shiver ran through the room.

"Someone’s in for trouble!" The same thought flashed through everyone’s mind. The man continued, "To think you called a satellite just for this... you..." Even he was speechless, though after watching the video, he’d shredded his cleaning cloth in irritation before realizing the truth.

Meanwhile, far from them, Lancer stroked his ring and whispered, in a voice only he could hear, "I accept your challenge!"