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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Vine
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“You’re going to attack the newspaper club?! No way! Do you know what that means?!”
River grabbed my wrist, a rare display of physical restraint. She had misunderstood my “one-star review.” She hadn’t reacted this strongly during the duel or the hallway brawl.
“It’s just an expression. I’m just going to complain.”
But even I knew causing a scene at the newspaper club wouldn’t be beneficial. A peaceful approach was best. The newspaper club was a silent power within the Academy, not to be trifled with. In the original story, they played a crucial role in foreshadowing major events. They reported on Hayden Parker’s antics, but they never published fabricated stories like this. Someone had interfered.
Few had the influence to manipulate the newspaper club. Royalty, the Five Pillars, some professors… but the professors rarely intervened, respecting the Headmaster’s authority over the editor-in-chief’s appointment.
“Do you think the newspaper club listens to complaints?”
“They will.”
“Look at that ‘I’ll make them listen’ look in your eyes!”
“The newspaper club is dangerous…!”
River and Amy tried to dissuade me, but I was going. I had a plan. If the newspaper club cooperated, there wouldn’t be any trouble.
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The newspaper’s impact was undeniable.
“Is that him? The cheater?”
“What a sneaky-looking guy.”
“I would have withdrawn out of shame.”
“Little people are shameless.”
Whispers and insults followed me as I walked towards the newspaper club’s office. Being short was just as conspicuous as being tall. A surge of anger, barely contained, threatened to erupt. I was glad I came alone. I must have looked terrifying.
The newspaper club had two offices: the main office, where articles were written and edited, and the printing press in a separate building. I headed to the main office, where the editor-in-chief’s office was located.
“Hello?”
I was here for a conversation, not a fight. I calmed myself, composing my features. I knocked politely. A moment later, the door opened, revealing a tired-looking man.
“Who are you? Hmm… you’re a freshman?”
He was clean-shaven but looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. He must have had a sleepless night. I noticed his gaze shift downwards after initially looking at my face. It was a small gesture, but it irritated me. It wasn’t his fault, but the accumulated stress made every little thing annoying.
“Are you here to join the club? Wait until week three. We’re a bit busy now.”
He mistook me for a prospective member, judging by my brooch. The newspaper club was popular, but that wasn’t my goal.
“Is the editor-in-chief here?”
“Why do you want to see him?”
He sounded annoyed. I gestured towards the large door behind him. His expression soured.
“I have some business with him. Could you just let him know I’m here?”
“He’s not available. Go back.”
“I know he’s in there. I’ll leave if he says so himself.”
“He’s not going to see you.”
He pushed my forehead. He would have pushed my shoulder if I were taller, but my height made my forehead an easier target.
My blood boiled. But I held back. I wasn’t here to fight. I took a deep breath and spoke calmly.
“Go away. The editor-in-chief doesn’t have time for you.”
“Senior, I’m being respectful. We’ve just met. Isn’t that a bit rude?”
“Look at this little guy, talking back to his senior.”
He pushed my forehead again. My head snapped back, then forward. I’d let it slide one last time.
“What did you say? Rude? Which class are you in? Or are you from some prestigious family?”
He pushed my forehead again.
Nothing happened.
My hand, pressed against his forehead, didn’t budge. He looked confused. The atmosphere grew heavy. I’d heard humor was a good way to diffuse tension.
“Senior, do you know what you call a broken branch?”
“What nonsense are you—”
-Crack.
His arm, resting on my forehead, snapped like a twig.
“Huh?”
His arm, bent at an unnatural angle, dangled uselessly. Not just a fracture, but a clean break.
“Wh-what…?! My… arm?!”
He stared at his arm, then at me, bewildered. The tension remained. More humor then.
“Senior, do you know what the funniest tooth is?”
“My… my arm… my arm… I don’t… I don’t know!”
-BAM!
His body flew backwards, crashing into a desk. Silence descended upon the office. The other members stared at the wreckage, then at me.
“A punchline.”
My attempt at humor fell flat. This world had no such concept.
“Well, that’s normal.”
It wasn’t meant to be funny anyway.
“We’re under attack!”
“Defensive positions!”
The newspaper club members finally reacted, scrambling to their feet, grabbing hidden weapons, using desks as shields. Four members, however, wearing short cloaks, remained seated, observing the situation.
“You… do you know where you are?!”
“I have no business with you. I just need to see the editor-in-chief. Understood?”
“The editor-in-chief?! You’re after him?!”
“I just want to talk.”
The highest-ranking member among them stepped forward.
“You… Attacking the newspaper club… you’ll pay for this!”
“The newspaper club attacked me first.”
“What? Ah, I see. You’re the little person they’re talking about. You should be packing your bags…”
He gestured, and the four cloaked figures stood up. They all carried heavy objects at their hips.
“They’re from the Swordsmanship Research Club! You won’t leave here in one piece!”
“Attacking the newspaper club alone… you’ve got guts… Want to join the Swordsmanship Research Club?”
“Report to your leader! Stop talking nonsense!”
They seemed amused by my audacity.
“Don’t kill him. Broken limbs are fine.”
“Alright, let’s make this quick.”
The Swordsmanship Research Club members finally moved, closing in from four directions, their movements trained and coordinated, aiming for a swift takedown. Being surrounded was disadvantageous. I scanned them, my gaze settling on one particular member.
That sword looks nice.
I made the first move.
“Huh?!”
He was startled by my sudden appearance. He reacted too late.
-BAM!
My uppercut, powered by a solid stance, sent him flying backwards, crashing into the wall.
“The little person has a sword!”
The other members shouted nervously. I held a longsword, snatched from the unconscious student’s hip during my attack. I had chosen him because his longsword seemed like a good fit. I’d use a sword against fellow swordsmen.
I assumed a familiar stance: the Serpent Stance, sword lowered.
“Get the editor-in-chief out here! You think you can get away with publishing this trash?!”
“Haaaah!”
The remaining three charged simultaneously, aiming for my exposed back. A rookie mistake. I had to break through their encirclement.
-Slice!
“Agh!”
I sidestepped the first attacker’s thrust, slicing his supporting ankle with my longsword. One down, in a single, fluid motion. They seemed inexperienced in fighting someone my size. Their lower center of gravity made their techniques clumsy. It was a common mistake among freshmen. It was insulting, but advantageous. I’d exploit it.
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