WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Professor

Translator: Touch

Editor: Grass

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Chapter 46: [Main Story] No.1: Treason and Collapse (3)

Dante Hiakapo looked down from a rooftop.

There were a few infiltrators attempting to set fire to the armory. But when they opened the door, all they saw was a public bathroom, unaware it was merely an illusion.

“Seize them!”

At Dante’s command, the disciplinary enforcers stormed inside and apprehended them.

However, the strain of continuously casting illusions took its toll. Blood began to trickle from Dante’s still-unhealed eye.

This isn’t the place either.

He turned and dashed away, climbing to the top of the tallest Mana Transmission Tower. It could be targeted by enemy bombardment at any moment, but Dante had already taken that risk into account.

From the high vantage point, he scanned all of Zone 0. The names of enemy assassins came into view, highlighted by their nametags.

Reading through their thoughts via the textboxes, Dante searched for those targeting a specific cadet.

After silently skimming through the information…

Found them.

* * *

After parting ways with Professor Gula, the trio fled up the mountain ridge in haste.

All three ran as fast as they could, but one of them was falling behind.

That was Dominic.

The plump boy was lost in thought, distracted by confusion.

Earlier, Professor Gula had secretly handed him the key to the transfer port. And now, the key to the safe underground shelter was in Dominic’s possession.

The reason he received it... was probably that he was standing closest to the professor, right?

Why?

Professor Gula had done nothing but insult them this whole time. So why would he entrust this to them…?

As Dominic let his thoughts spiral, he began to lag behind. 

“Dominic! You gotta run faster!” Forte called out. 

“Sorry! I’ll pick up the pace.”

His belly jiggled with each step. The extra weight he had carried since childhood due to a chronic condition had never really held him back in life—until now.

Right now, it dragged him down like a ship dragging its anchor along the seafloor.

His breathing turned ragged, and his knees got weak.

But that was when Dominic noticed something—the other two had started slowing down to match his pace. 

“Faster, Dominic!”

“Y-Yeah, got it!”

“Watch your step…! There are lots of rocks around!”

“Got it!”

They each tossed him quick words of encouragement, pushing him forward. 

But little by little, Dominic began to fall further behind.

Hwaru and Forte exchanged glances—nervous ones—as if waiting for the other to decide whether to leave Dominic behind.

Or maybe... maybe that was Dominic’s own insecurity talking.

Nevertheless, the truth was that for a long time, Dominic had known deep down how people perceived him.

He knew all too well that he was different from the other two.

Even if they were all held back a year, Forte was a Moon Shadow cadet and the son of a prominent family from the White Path.

Hwaru was a sweet, cute, and popular girl.

And Dominic? He didn’t belong to either the White or Black Path. He had no impressive background and no particular talent. He was just there because of a special recommendation, merely a decorated citizen who had achieved something admirable once.

The fact that they hung out together at all felt strange.

One time, a cadet casually asked a friend, “Why do those two hang out with someone like him?” while walking past him, ensuring he overheard them.

And honestly, it was a great question.

Yeah, why do they?

“Dominic! Once we’re over that peak, it’ll all be downhill, so—”

“Hey.”

Dominic cut off Forte, panting and stopping in his tracks to catch his breath. 

“You two go ahead first.”

His two friends halted and glanced back, puzzled.

“What?!” Forte exclaimed.

“What are you talking about, Dominic?” Hwaru asked.

“I’m slowing you both down. So you guys go on ahead.”

“What kind of bullshit is that? Just run!” Forte snapped.

“Yeah, we don’t have time for this!” Hwaru added. 

Unable to argue further, Dominic clenched his teeth and forced himself to start running again. 

But maybe… just maybe… he saw something in their expressions. Something different than usual. 

And it wasn’t just his imagination.

But then—

BOOM!!

A massive explosion tore through the sentry post they had passed just a short while ago.

“Damn it, they’ve gotten this close?! Run faster, go!” Forte shouted.

“Yeah! Got it!” Hwaru responded.

As they sprinted forward, Dominic shouted out, “Shelter!”

“Huh?!”

“Let’s go to the transfer port for the shelter! It’s just a hundred meters away!”

“But the port key—!”

“I have it! I picked it up on the way here!”

“R-Really?!”

It didn’t really make sense, but the others didn’t have time to question him.

They changed direction and made a break for the transfer port.

Once again, Dominic felt a wave of confusion rise within him. The transfer port was much closer than he had anticipated.

So why didn’t Professor Gula just bring everyone here earlier?

If they’d come here sooner…

If they’d come yesterday…

Wouldn’t everyone have been safe already?

But as they reached the port, the trio came to a halt in front of a clear cylindrical case inscribed with magical circles.

That was when Dominic realized something. 

This transfer port…

“…is single-use.”

“Yeah…”

“And…”

It was built for two people only.

Dominic stared blankly at the key in his hand for a moment.

Then he looked up. Two pairs of eyes, one auburn, the other maroon, were staring at him, and only him. 

…Ah.

Dominic finally understood something.

Why did they hang out with someone like him?

That, he still didn’t know the answer to.

However, there was one thing he now knew—that someone like him still had something to offer.

He made up his mind.

“Take this. I’ll stay behi—”

Before he could finish his sentence, a hand suddenly grabbed him by the collar and yanked him into the port.

At the same time, Hwaru was shoved inside as well. 

As Dominic and Hwaru both took a moment to regain their senses, they quickly grasped the situation.

Forte stood outside the cylinder, on the other side of the glass. 

Immediately, the port’s magical barrier activated.

“No, wait—! Forte!!!” Hwaru screamed.

“Forte! What are you doing?!”

But it was too late. The transfer to the underground bunker had already begun.

Mana enveloped their bodies as the platform beneath their feet suddenly fell.

The light of day and their friend quickly receded as they descended the tunnel.

Eventually, only Forte remained.

He stood silently with his back against the now-inactive shelter port.

As soon as he learned that Kreutz had dispatched assassins to the academy, he anticipated this possibility.

After all, his family—House Asimov—was Kreutz’s greatest enemy.

Fifteen years ago, during the Second Great Assassination War, his father had operated as a White Path assassin to protect the kingdom and its people. 

When he returned home from the war, he often told his young son,

“Forte, an assassin is someone who saves lives. You mustn’t become an assassin with the intent to kill.”

“What do you mean?” the young Forte had asked. 

He had never understood his father’s words back then. 

Assassins were killers, weren’t they? Their job was to kill in the first place. 

How could they possibly save anyone?

Saving people was the job of doctors or firefighters, not them...

But now that he was older, he finally understood.

If five people lived in this world, it would only produce enough to feed four. 

From the beginning, humanity has put all its effort into killing each other to survive.

Someone, somewhere, would always be trying to kill your family or friends.

So to survive, you had to kill first. 

Even if they had already struck—you still had to kill.

And if it were too late…  

If you were destined to die…  

Then the least you could do was save someone else.

…Because that’s what assassins do, isn’t it, Father?

He had protected the other two. 

This meant he had followed his father’s teachings and upheld the name of House Asimov. 

Gunshots and explosions echoed louder now, the murderous aura in the area growing thick.

Forte’s legs trembled. Something, or someone, overwhelming was approaching fast.

That… was the right thing to do. Right, Father?

Soon afterward, the Kreutz assassins appeared from the mountain forest.

Was it really the right thing to do?

Forte asked himself the question once more.

“Target located. The Asimov brat. Sending coordinates.”

One of the assassins sent a transmission, and moments later, four or five more appeared.

Forte struggled to breathe but raised his sniper rifle and aimed at his enemies. But…

Thunk—!!

A throwing knife suddenly embedded itself in his rifle’s barrel.

He didn’t even see who had thrown it. 

The blade nearly split the barrel of the rifle in half before ricocheting and slicing across his forehead, the tip scraping along his skull and leaving a deep gash. 

“Ghk!”

Forte staggered from the pain, blood pouring from the gash. 

At a mid-range distance, a Projectile specialist could easily overwhelm both Combat and Sniping assassins, even if they were equally skilled, since the latter two specialized more in close-range and long-range combat, respectively.

Worse still, his opponents were far stronger than he was. 

“You’re Asimov, aren’t you?” one of the masked assassins asked.

Forte didn’t respond. 

“Many of us went through hell just to find and kill you.”

Still, Forte said nothing. 

“Now then. It’s time for you to die.”

Clink—!

The assassin drew a knife from a hidden slot on his wrist and stepped forward, calm and composed. 

Thud—

Forte’s damaged sniper rifle dropped to the ground. 

He then drew his own dagger and shouted, “Come on, then, you fuckers! Come fight me, cowards—!!”

Needless to say, his bravado had no effect on them.

Eventually, the assassin drew closer as sparks of mana flared from him.

Bzzzt—!

In that moment, Forte inadvertently squeezed his eyes shut.

There was nothing more he could do but hope that he had become a true assassin today…

But suddenly, in the next instant...

Forte experienced something incredible.

The world lit up.

Even with his eyes closed, he could feel it. Not just the light—blinding brilliance, as if he were caught in the divine blessing of an angel.

The light swept through the world in an instant. Forte’s eyes stung painfully, as if he were about to go blind even through his eyelids.

Several seconds passed silently. He hesitated to open his eyes until a voice echoed clearly in the silence. 

“You can open your eyes now.”

The moment he heard that all-too-familiar voice, Forte opened his eyes without even realizing it.

As they slowly adjusted to the contrast, goosebumps rose across his skin.

Every single one of the enemy assassins lay on the ground, slaughtered to death.

And it all happened in a matter of seconds. 

Faced with this unbelievable scene, Forte shuddered in awe.

“You did well holding out for so long.”

A man approached from the center of the carnage, blood dripping from his left eye. He placed a gentle hand on Forte’s head, and the weight of that hand sent a shudder of relief through his entire body. 

It was someone he never imagined seeing here.

It was Professor Dante Hiakapo.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Dante asked. 

“N-No, sir…”

“You sure ran a long way. It was a hassle to get here.”

“Th-Thank you for—”

“No need.” Dante interrupted. “If you can walk, let’s head down right away. It’s dangerous to stay here.”

Forte’s heart pounded incessantly. He tried to move but paused.

“Ah… Um, I… Uh…”

“What’s wrong?”

“My legs… They gave out. I’m sorry… I was really terrified just now…”

Forte confessed his feelings honestly, despite the embarrassment. In response, Dante displayed a total lack of emotion.

“You chose to stay behind and send the others to safety, but got scared?”

“Y-Yes… I couldn’t help but get scared… It’s pathetic, really…”

“Is that so.”

The professor gave a brief reply.

“It’s good to be honest.”

Strangely enough, those words stirred something deep within Forte’s heart.

And after a few seconds, strength returned to his legs.

“I can walk now.”

“Then let’s go.”

As they descended the mountain together, Forte mulled over his thoughts. 

His father’s words rang in his mind once again.

Assassins were indeed people who saved lives—just like the professor before him.

After leading Forte to the Moon Shadow Dormitory, I climbed the mountain trail again.

Along the way, a strange feeling welled up inside me.

The Kingdom of Hiaka was just a story setting in a video game.

I’d only been a professor here for a month and a half.

There was no reason for me to be emotionally invested in any of this.

And yet…

Perhaps it was due to Dante’s emotions, which I had synchronized with. He was born in Hiaka and had willingly applied to become a professor at this academy.

So perhaps Dante genuinely found this situation sorrowful and agonizing.

The problem was that I was now Dante.

And these emotions didn’t feel very nice.

They weren’t as bad as the day I first faced a demon, but still... there was a filthy, heavy weight in my heart.

Watching my student bleed…

Watching the academy I belong to crumble…

It all left a bad taste in my mouth.

…Sentimental nonsense.

I had no reason to get absorbed in Dante’s emotions, so I shook off the thoughts.

I was a player first and a professor second—the only one aware of this world’s impending doom and the only one who could prevent its collapse.

I couldn’t let the present affect me. I had to look toward the future and think further ahead.

Clatter—

Right now, 「Liberator ⁺₊⋆」 was screaming in my hands.

Despite being merely a rifle, the damage it inflicted was comparable to that of a cannon, at the cost of each shot significantly decreasing the weapon’s durability.

It was now nearing its breaking point. And as a stigma weapon, it couldn’t even be repaired.

…A dozen more shots at best.

If I let my emotions get the better of me here, I’d waste what few shots I had left.

And I couldn’t let that happen.

I would protect the academy as much as necessary, but I also had to secure what I needed for my long-term survival.

First, I returned to the location where the Kreutz special task force had ambushed Forte.

The corpses of the assassins were already starting to vanish.

They were still here, but their bodies were stained purple and were slowly fading into nothingness.

They were cast with the 『Curse of Erasure』—a safeguard for those with too much to lose if captured alive or identified after death.

However, their equipment didn’t vanish. 

All of it stayed intact on their fading bodies, and I gathered it all.

These were assassins sent by the Kreutz royal family, driven by a blood vendetta, so the quality of their gear was exceptional.

Most were Rare-grade, several were Heroic, and one was even a Legendary Ⅰ-grade accessory.

I didn’t have to pick them up individually or carry them.

The dead could no longer claim ownership of an item.

So once a piece of gear lost its owner, I could absorb it into my inventory simply by touching it.

I walked up to the fading bodies and collected every piece of gear they had, leaving nothing behind—just like any assassin would.

But as I reached out to touch an open locket, I noticed a family photo inside.

That was when I realized something.

This was my first kill.

My first human kill.

My first murder.

There are things you only notice once you're already deep in the river, following the flow of the stream.

My hair had grown long enough that it needed to be cut for the first time in this world. 

My nails needed clipping again.

I had to empty and sort the growing stack of faded receipts in my wallet.

These little signs were proof that I’d lived here for quite some time already.

And only now did the reality of my new life hit me.

I was a man who taught others how to murder.

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