Free Web NovelChapter 8: Academy
"A week has already passed since we spoke with the Princess—our first conversation, that is."
In that week, Ruthless hadn’t gathered as much intelligence as he had initially projected. The localized populace possessed a severely limited comprehension of their own world’s macro-structure, particularly the men. Almost the entire logistics of the central bazaar was managed exclusively by guys—extending even to the manufacturing and distribution of essential apparel for both genders.
’They handle the baseline labor while women handle the monopoly on violence,’ Ruthless calculated, pacing the confines of his temporary quarters.
He had also discovered that upon graduating from the academy, virtually all females were funneled directly into the continental defense grid, with the sole exceptions being institutional teachers and professors. Those who failed to secure academic enrollment were immediately integrated into the standing army as low-ranking foot soldiers.
Today was a targeted milestone: the entrance ceremony, marking his first operational day at the academy. The morning light barely pierced through the dim, grime-filmed glass of his temporary room, illuminating the modest, spartan surroundings. He understood with absolute clarity that his integration into the student body would be fraught with systemic friction. He fully anticipated targeted harassment, bullying, and institutional roadblocks.
’But the most statistically fascinating anomaly is the presence of "masculinism" in this societal framework,’ he mused. ’On Earth, the ideological pendulum was swung toward feminism. Here, it is completely inverted. Women possess a total monopoly on legal and physical rights, which, ironically, plays directly into my hands. A demographic conditioned to view men as inherently harmless will naturally lower its guard.’
A sharp, confident knock echoed through the half-empty room, abruptly cutting off his tactical assessment.
’Predictable. It’s Nora.’
Ruthless opened the door, immediately greeted by Nora’s standard, vibrant smile. He instantly altered his posture, dropping his shoulders and softening his eyes to project his usual, harmless persona.
"Hi, Ruthless! How are you holding up?" she asked, looking him over.
"Good, thank you. And you?" he replied, his voice a perfect facsimile of gentle innocence.
"I’m doing well too! Today’s the big day—you’re heading to the academy. Honestly, I didn’t even realize you were such a smart kid. You’re incredibly lucky."
’Luck is a statistical illusion relied upon by the structurally weak,’ Ruthless thought behind his passive expression. ’One simply needs to calculate every single variable to eliminate chance.’
"Yes, I suppose I am very fortunate," he lied smoothly.
"Anyway, look at this! I brought you your official academy uniform," Nora said proudly, pulling the garments from a reinforced wooden box.
The fabric was exceptionally thick, dyed a deep, majestic burgundy with intricate gold embroidery tracing the edges of the cuffs and the stiff stand-up collar. Stitched into the left breast with shimmering silk threads was the prestigious academy crest: a predatory griffin with spread wings, its talons locking onto a brilliantly polished crystal. The cut was strict, aggressive, and elegant—a clear material manifestation of the institution’s elite status.
"Thank you very much, Miss Nora," Ruthless said, carefully accepting the uniform with feigned reverence.
"Listen, I did some digging into this year’s roster," Nora lowered her voice, leaning against the wooden doorframe. "Some seriously high-profile personages are enrolling this semester, so you need to keep your head down. One of them is the younger brother of our continent’s ruling Queen. Even though he’s a guy, don’t underestimate him; he carries the genetic lineage of the royal family, so he’s not physically helpless."
’An exceptional variable,’ Ruthless’s mind spun, instantly categorizing the asset. ’He is a high-value bridge to the Queen. Securing his proximity is a priority. This isn’t luck; had he not been present, I simply would have engineered an alternative extraction vector. Whether a strategy requires one year or ten to mature is irrelevant, provided it yields the maximum probability of securing the seal.’
"I understand," Ruthless nodded submissively. "I’ll be very careful."
"Let me run you through the baseline regulatory codes of the campus," Nora continued, checking her fingers. "Smoking and physical violence are strictly prohibited. The violence clause, obviously, applies to girls targeting guys. Romantic courtship is permitted, provided everything operates under absolute mutual consent."
She paused, a smirk playing on her lips. "The academic structure is divided into tiers, from Class F up to Class S. F is the absolute baseline floor, and S is the pinnacle. And congratulations—you’ve been directly assigned to Class A."
Ruthless tilted his head slightly, his empty, reflectionless eyes locking onto hers for a fraction of a second. "I assume there are no other males in that tier?"
"Exactly," Nora validated, entirely oblivious to the chill in his gaze. "All the weak boys are packed into classes F, D, and C. In fact, classes F and D are exclusively male, and even then, it’s reserved only for the intellectually capable commoners. Never forget our Princess’s overwhelming generosity in placing you so high," she added, raising an index finger like an instructor.
’Did the Princess lack the political leverage to force me into Class S, or did she deliberately place me in Class A to monitor my trajectory and force me to rely on her backing?’ Ruthless calculated the chess placement.
"But you want to know the most insane part?" Nora leaned in closer, her eyes wide. "The younger sister of the Queen of a rival continent is also enrolling in our academy this term!"
Ruthless allowed his features to mimic a look of genuine, naive shock. "Didn’t you state previously that the continents were locked in an active state of war?"
"Yes, we are!" Nora laughed artificially, awkwardly shifting her weight from foot to foot on the threshold. "But I heard the high command negotiated a temporary mutual peace treaty or something along those lines. Honestly, that macro-political garbage is way over my head, haha!"
’Two high-tier assets positioned within a localized perimeter,’ Ruthless prioritized his objectives. ’They represent direct pipelines to the sovereign seals. I must minimize my profile and avoid drawing premature hostility. However, my placement in Class A as a commoner male has already established a disruptive baseline. If these two aristocrats harbor deep-seated geopolitical hostility toward one another, I will need to pivot my strategy and exploit their friction. A targeted alignment will be necessary, though it remains a high-risk vector.’
"Anyway, you’ll figure out the rest of the operational details once you’re inside," Nora concluded, waving a hand. "No point in overloading your brain with data. Better to observe than to lecture, right?"
’Primal Gaze!’
The cognitive interface instantly deployed, projecting the semi-transparent neon board across his field of vision.
[Current Stats of Inha Nora:]
Strength: 400
Speed: 400
Stamina: 350
Intelligence: 16
Primal Level: 1
Chosen Path: None
’An incremental shift,’ Ruthless observed, analyzing the data. ’Her intelligence parameter has escalated by exactly one point. That explains her marginal increase in vocabulary and structural awareness.’
"Alright, I’m heading out," Nora smiled, stepping back into the corridor. "Good luck in there. Try to become one of the top students on the charts—intellectually speaking, of course. Don’t even bother dreaming about matching them in physical strength, haha! See ya!"
The heavy door swung shut, and the dull, definitive click of the lock severed her laughter from the room.
"Don’t even dream..." Ruthless repeated the words aloud to the quiet, empty walls.
A cold, dead silence answered him.
’You are entirely correct, Nora. Dreaming is an inefficient allocation of cognitive resources. One only needs to execute.’
Ruthless systematically donned the deep burgundy uniform, fastening the stiff, gold-embroidered stand-up collar. He stepped out of his quarters and onto the concrete street, the morning sun washing over his form. A sharp gust of cool wind ruffled his short black hair.
His empty eyes, completely devoid of any human reflection, stared directly at the grand, towering silhouette of the academy campus looming over the horizon of Syoga.
’Well, let’s see what parameters you have established for me,’ he thought, addressing the unseen hand guiding this universe. ’I know you are actively monitoring my trajectory. I know you perceive my choices. But understand this: I will systematically dismantle your rules, and I will claim the seals. Now—show me the trial you have prepared.’
