Chapter 411: Homecoming... To No Home? [II]

After exiting Vereshia’s office, I had to search for a while before finally finding Michael arguing with a staff member near the teachers’ lounge.

Juliana was there too. While she seemed completely aloof and impassive like she usually did, I could clearly tell she was trying to restrain herself from going on a murder spree.

I decided I had to go over there and hold her back.

Because I was the most emotionally mature among all of us, the responsibility of making those kids behave naturally fell onto me.

Oh, and luckily, only Cadet Council members, a handful of second- and third-years, the three Aces, and teachers were allowed on this floor.

So the likelihood of us getting swarmed by our new

fans

was low.

"I already told you, the room assignments are non-negotiable!" the staff member was practically screeching, tightly clutching a tablet to his chest. "You were declared dead! Your old dormitory slots have been reassigned to the elite transfer Cadets! I can’t just evict someone because you decided to stop being a corpse!"

"I didn’t

decide

to stop being a corpse, I was never one to begin with!" Michael shot back, his voice hitting that specific pitch of frantic frustration that made it indistinguishable whether he was about to cry or get angry. "And I’m not asking to evict anyone, I’m asking where the hell my stuff is! My books, my lucky socks, my—"

"Likely moved to the deep storage in the lower wards," the staffer cut the black-haired boy off. "Standard protocol for deceased Cadets without immediate next-of-kin claims. But good luck finding anything there. The rumor is that the deep storage floors are so vast that entire Spirit Beasts have snuck in there and made sprawling colonies. It’s a dungeon now."

Michael looked like he was about to implode.

Next to him, Juliana’s left hand was resting on the hilt of what I assumed was a kunai hidden beneath the strap of her belt.

She wasn’t even looking at the staff member. She was looking at his carotid artery with the interest of a butcher looking at a pig.

I stepped in before the hallway became a crime scene. "Is there a problem here?"

Juliana stopped being all murder-y and stepped closer to me. "This desk guy said he threw out my luggage."

"Th-That’s not what I said at all!" the staffer stammered, hurriedly looking down at his tablet and scrolling through some records. "You are Juliana Vox Blade, right? There was nothing filled under the next-of-kin section on your admission form. So we had to shift your belongings."

Juliana tugged at my sleeve twice to grab my attention like a child complaining to her parent. "He’s lying. I saw the transfer list. My room was given to some commoner girl. She’s probably using all my lush-edition pillows right about now."

In panic, the staffer’s eyes widened so much they practically took over the top half of his pale face. "I’m not lying! Why would I lie?!"

Juliana continued, "He also said he won’t give us any rooms."

The staffer was all but crying now. "Oh, Monarchs! I didn’t say that either! I said there are no rooms

available

!"

I scowled at the man. "Wait, what?"

"...Lord Samael, look," he said, showing me some data sheets on his tablet, "the influx of transfers was unprecedented. We’re at

one hundred and twelve

percent capacity! Even the overpriced lavish suites on

Alaron

and

Kallith

Streets have been double-booked."

My scowl deepened. "So... where are we supposed to sleep? On the road?"

The man stared at me. I stared back.

He blinked. I blinked back.

There was a long stretch of silence so taut it seemed it was itself scared to break, as if fearing it would unleash a dreadful storm.

"You’re joking," I said, managing to keep calm. Because I was still willing to act emotionally mature. "You are honestly standing in front of a High Noble... and you’re asking him to go find a nice patch of grass in the Sky Gardens?"

"I-I’m not!" the staffer squeaked, quickly and very cleverly backpedaling. "I can... arrange some shared housing units on Zephyros Street."

...Wow.

Zephyros

Street?

I don’t know if you remember, but I had stayed there for a while when I came to the Ascent Isles. The rooms there were already the size of matchboxes and the food was worse than what I would find scavenging trash.

And this guy was telling me I had to share even

that

luxury?

I ran a hand down my face. "You want us, the kids who just spent weeks sleeping in a realm of literal nightmares, to now go stay cooped up in a place that reeks worse than a shithouse, where the wallpaper is held up by hopes and the tears of impoverished children?"

"...Y-Yes," the staffer nodded hesitantly, as if not sure if he was making the right choice. He wasn’t, by the way.

Juliana stepped closer still, bringing her lips to my ear, whispering sweet temptations to me. "Punch his stupid face. It would feel so good, I promise. Punch it."

I’m not proud of what I did next.

I jumped at him.

Juliana took the chance to

immediately

do the same.

Fuck emotional maturity!

The staffer didn’t even have time to scream.

One second he was a bureaucratic filth hiding behind a digital tablet, and the next, he was the filling in a violence sandwich.

I tackled him around the midsection, while Juliana blurred under me.

Her knee connected with his stomach, and as he doubled over, I accidentally-on-purpose rose up and let my elbow find the bridge of his nose.

—Thwack!

"My!"

Crunch

. "Lush!"

Thack

. "Edition!"

Biff

. "Pillows!" Juliana punctuated every syllable with a precise strike to his ribs.

"STOP! PLEASE! OH MY GAWD STAPH!" the man wailed, violently squirming on the floor. "I’M JUST A MID-LEVEL ADMINISTRATOR! I HAVE A MORTGAGE!"

"And I have back problems from sleeping on the ground!" I roared, grabbing him by the lapels and shaking him until his teeth rattled. "Give. Us. A. Proper. Room. Or I will turn this teachers’ lounge into a funeral parlor!"

Poor Michael had to play the role of the reluctant peacekeeper, rushing over to pry my fingers off the man’s throat while at the same time trying to keep Juliana from delivering a finishing blow to the guy’s shins.

"Sam! Julia! Stop!" Michael shouted, straining against my arm while his other hand desperately tried to catch Juliana’s wrist mid-swing. "We’re literally in front of the teachers’ lounge! If a Professor walks out, being homeless would be the least of our worries!"

I finally let go of the staffer’s collar, allowing his head to bounce off the floor.

He let out a wheezing groan and pathetically curled into a fetal position, still clutching his now cracked tablet.

Juliana stood over him, her breathing not even slightly elevated, adjusting her bun while still staring at the man’s shins.

"I feel better," she announced. Her voice was flat, but there was a tiny, microscopic sparkle in her eyes that hadn’t been there ten minutes ago. "My stress levels have decreased by

one hundred and twelve

percent."

I straightened my clothes and tried to look like the dignified young nobleman I was before gazing down at the whimpering heap of a man at my feet.

"Now," I said. "About that patch of grass in the Sky Gardens. Do you want to reconsider, or should I let Juli here find out if her stress levels can decrease even further?"

"Wait! Wait!" the man croaked, holding up one trembling hand. He fumbled with his tablet, the screen spider-webbed with cracks. "There’s... there’s a villa. In a township in Sector C-4 on

Alaron

Street. It was... it was under renovation for the visiting dignitaries from the East, but they canceled their trip due to the ongoing global conflict."

"Sector C-4?" Michael’s ears perked up a bit. "Wait, I’ve been there. Isn’t that the district where only the high-ranking faculty and elite third-years live? I remember because I wasn’t allowed entry inside the township’s gates."

The staffer nodded desperately, actual tears streaming down his face. "Yes! The very same! The building I’m talking about is a two-story mansion with five bedrooms, a reinforced training basement, a heated pool, a fully stocked smart kitchen, and... and the pillows there are premium quality — the very best our Academy has to offer!"

Juliana and I shared a look.

"Premium pillows," she murmured.

"A fully stocked smart kitchen," I nodded back.

Seeing our interest piqued, the man held up the tablet with both hands, presenting it to us like a divine relic. "That area is inaccessible to anyone not in their third-year, but if you all promise never to tell anyone I was the one who authorized it—"

"Deal," I said, snatching the tablet from his hand. I filled out the authorization form and inserted my Cadet ID number before he could change his mind.

Immediately, a notification popped up on my phone.

[Housing Assignment

: Alaron Street, Sector C, District 4, Villa 13/21 —

Authorized

.

]

I smiled and tossed the tablet back onto his chest, turning to my friends. "See? A little communication, a little compromise, and a moderate amount of physical assault. That’s how you solve problems. Truly, I’ve grown so emotionally mature, haven’t I?"

As we walked away, Michael kept wearily glancing back at the man, who was now weeping and crawling toward the safety of the lounge door. "We’re definitely the villains of this story, aren’t we?"