Academy's Drunk Fighter-Chapter 13: Loser (3)

In the world behind my closed eyes, I was lying down, clutching my head.

The hospital room I knew all too well.

Drawn curtains and a flickering old light overhead.

Flicker.

Flicker.

Felt like I’d been in this «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» hospital for a long time.

“You...”

There was no one else.

Just a boy kneeling before me, head bowed low.

“......”

The moment I met his eyes, I heard the slight movement of his lips.

“■■■”

But I couldn’t hear a thing.

“■■■!!!”

His mouth moved like he was shouting—but the sound was sealed, and I couldn’t remember who the boy was.

And then—

.

.

.

.

“A strange ceiling...”

Ah, right. I’ve said that before.

But this time, it wasn’t unfamiliar.

The location was different, but the ceiling layout was exactly like the hospital room I’d been in after the entrance ceremony.

Even the same brand of hand sanitizer I drank last time was hanging in the usual spot.

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

“If I drink that again, they’ll probably scold me.”

Thankfully, I had a few liquor chocolates tucked in my pocket.

Crunch.

Some had cracked and soaked my pants a bit, but a few were intact, so I popped one into my mouth and savored the sweetness.

“Mmm...”

Since I could talk again, I figured the spell had been lifted. Now I was just a little curious about how it all ended.

I had pulled the trigger at the last second, but then I blacked out immediately after.

Chirp chirp!

I watched a bird grooming itself in a tree outside the window until the hospital door opened and a woman walked in.

“Yo, you’re up? Student?”

“Hello.”

Red hair tied back, a faint scent of sweat and heat like she’d just come from the gym.

Different color tracksuit than before, but the same style—I recognized her.

It was Professor Philia from the Physical Conditioning Department.

Hopefully, she wasn’t here to “cover things up” or anything.

I eyed her warily as she sat next to me and looked over my body with a sigh.

“Haaah... that crazy bastard did it again.”

“Um... by any chance...”

“Oh, no need to say anything. I’m just here on behalf of the Academy to explain what’s going on.”

“On behalf of the Academy...?”

What did that even mean?

“Well... to put it simply, Isaac—the guy who taught first period—is, uh... a little off in the head.”

Philia spun her finger in a circle next to her temple. The universal sign for “he’s fucking nuts.”

“Off in the head...?”

“He’s not like that all the time, but if there’s a bet involved or some kind of competition, he goes completely psycho.”

“Has he... done this before?”

“Oh yeah. Don’t know if I should say this, but that guy blew through all the money he made as a professor gambling. Even lost his kid and wife over it.”

“Oh...”

Not something I ever wanted to know in that much detail.

I shook my head and mentally deleted that information from my brain. Then asked something more relevant.

“So, this ‘on behalf’ thing...”

“Yeah, unfortunately, even if his brain’s fried, the guy’s still talented. So the Academy’s not going to hit him with any serious punishment. I’m just here to let you know that.”

Honestly, that part I’d already expected.

Even if the regular students didn’t get it, the professors and staff watching the match probably knew what went down.

But the [Silence] magic Isaac cast on me—it was just to stop me from forfeiting.

If I were a mage who needed to chant spells, the outcome might’ve been different. But I’m firmly in the physical category.

And it’s not like I was seriously injured either—just knocked out, thanks to all the built-in safety systems around us.

From a personal standpoint, yeah, I was pissed. But from a distance, it didn’t really qualify as “punishable.”

Even if a high-ranking professor at Central Academy throws a “minor” spell at a student, that doesn’t mean the place is going to jump to justice. It’s not that kind of school.

“Besides, sounds like he was desperate. Didn’t expect to lose everything.”

“I see.”

“Oh, by the way, did you say something to him before the fight?”

Something I said...?

“Ah.”

I suddenly remembered telling him I was planning to forfeit.

...Could that have been the trigger?

Still, no way in hell I’m blaming myself.

He’s the one who couldn’t keep his gambling addiction in check and shoved his own student into the pit. This is one hundred percent on him.

“Well, anyway, I’m here because the Academy wants to offer you a few options. They figured just sweeping this under the rug wouldn’t fly.”

I’d been feeling pretty miserable just moments ago, but the second I heard the word “offer,” my brain instantly cleared up.

“First option’s just money. You didn’t get seriously hurt, so the Academy’ll probably throw you about a hundred grand. Easiest choice, but honestly, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“What’s the other?”

Philia held up two fingers.

“Second, you get bonus points on your midterms based on your ranking.”

“Hmmm...”

“There’s also the possibility of moving you to better dorms or facilities, but those two are the main ones.”

Logically and long-term, the second option was clearly better, just like she said.

But—

“I’ll take the money.”

“...Really?”

“Yes.”

Philia’s tied-up ponytail swayed gently as her eyes settled on me.

Her pupils were a bit catlike, and staring at them for too long was kind of unsettling.

“Uhh... you’re starting to freak me out.”

“Pfft...”

“?”

“Ahahaha! Yeah, you’re definitely the simple type. Smart choice, honestly. Thinking too hard just gives you a headache anyway.”

The truth was, I only picked the money because I had nothing to live on right now—but she seemed to have misunderstood.

Still, seeing her smiling face, I didn’t feel like correcting her.

“Ah... well, yeah. But shouldn’t the person responsible be the one coming here to talk about all this in the first place?”

“Oh? You wanted to hear about that?”

She grinned like she'd been waiting for me to bring it up.

“Actually, right after your duel ended, I was supposed to be teaching your class for the next period.”

“...?”

“But I was waiting around, and then they told me you passed out mid-fight.”

I could already see where this was going in my head.

“You probably didn’t know, but I’ve been interested in you since the entrance ceremony, you know? And then he went and treated you like that? I decked him right then and there.”

“And...?”

“He’s unconscious now. Couldn't make it.”

Wow.

She said that like it was the most casual thing in the world.

And she was laughing while saying it, too.

“Better yet, he didn’t even put up a barrier—like he never thought I’d actually hit him. Flew off like a ragdoll! Ahahaha!!”

“Um... isn’t that kind of a big deal?”

“Oh? Are you worried about him?”

“Not exactly...”

If anything, I’d be more worried about her than that professor.

But honestly, it felt cathartic.

“Ah... no, I actually feel kinda great.”

“When something’s broken, you fix it by smacking it. That’s just how it works.”

Maybe this professor was a better person than I thought.

And just like that, the conversation flowed easily between us.

“So, what happened in the end?”

“Oh, right. You fought the top-ranked guy, didn’t you? I came in late, so I didn’t see it all—but I think you probably lost.”

“I see...”

I’d kinda hoped otherwise. Bit of a letdown.

“Yeah. That sword strike of his really was something.”

She drifted into thought, recalling the moment.

“But even so, it doesn’t look like you just rolled over. From the traces left behind, it seems like you dodged the slash itself—probably just passed out from the impact.”

“So I... did do something?”

“Hell yeah! We checked later—turns out he had a bullet graze mark on him.”

A graze, huh...

You could say that meant I hit him, but on the flip side, it also meant I didn’t cause any real damage.

“Too bad.”

If I’d had a stronger drink—or if my brain could’ve handled more—I might’ve gotten a better result.

It was a fight I never wanted, forced on me from the start...

But I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed at the end.

“By the way, how the hell do you move like that with a body this small?”

Tap.

Her hand touched me.

She lifted my arm and started inspecting it, turning it this way and that.

Her eyes studying me like she was analyzing muscle mass and body structure.

“Uh...”

“Hmm... to grow this body, I’d need to revise your diet...”

“Excuse me...?”

“First I’d have to get you to gain weight, then build muscle over that...”

She kept muttering, completely ignoring my voice, hands fiddling with my body like she was under some kind of possession.

And some of the things she was saying were so horrifying I felt a mild case of trauma coming on.

“If I raise you later, you’ll definitely taste bett—”

“Um—um, I’m not feeling so well all of a sudden. I’d really appreciate it if you left now.”

“Huh? But I was just about to—wait, no, I didn’t mean it like—!”

She panicked, but I politely issued a firm verbal eviction notice and physically pushed the professor out of the room.

“Aw, but I wanted to see more!!”

“Please just—leave!!”

“Wait a sec, is it just me or do I smell chocolate in here? You know, stuff like that goes straight to body fat—!”

Slam.

I still have no clue how she could smell chocolate that was sealed in packaging.

Chilled to the bone by the way she kept staring at me with those longing eyes, I lay back in bed, popped another bonbon in my mouth, and looked out at the slowly setting sun.

“It’s already evening?”

And just like that, my first day at the Academy came to a very anticlimactic end.