I Become a Secret Police Officer of The Imperial Academy

Chapter 5

I’ve come to a very clear realization — carrying around someone’s severed finger is far from a pleasant experience.

Even more so when you’re walking to school.

If I bump into one of those soldiers patrolling at night, it’s going to be a hassle. I’ll have to explain who I am, show my identification, and even give an account of where I’m going and why.

Dodging the beams of their flashlights, I managed to slip inside the school building.

I made my way underground.

The only light down here comes from man-made flames. Sunlight never reaches this place. If you black out a few times, you lose all sense of time — you can’t tell how many days have passed or even if it’s day or night.

That’s why I need to make sure I don’t show signs of exhaustion in front of Julius.

He probably thinks it’s nighttime.

I grunted as I heaved open the heavy iron door, stepping inside and flicking on the lights.

Zzzzt.

The sound of the flickering bulb echoed, and dim light gradually filled the room.

Julius was slumped forward, tied up and kneeling on the floor, fast asleep.

His wounds had healed. Either they brought in a priest or doused him with a potion.

These days, even healthy people have to wait in line for treatment. Surely, they didn’t actually bring in a priest for him, right?

“Wake up.”

He didn’t stir, even with the lights on and the noise around him. Must be in a pretty deep sleep.

Or maybe, in the meantime, he loosened the restraints around his wrists and ankles and was biding his time for an opportunity.

Sure enough, I pulled out my gun, aimed a sharp kick at his gut, and he shot up like a spring, grabbing my leg.

The moment he noticed the gun in my hand, his grip went slack.

“Even a rookie wouldn’t fall for that. Come on, no complaints — put the ankle cuffs back on yourself.”

Surprisingly, he followed my instructions obediently.

He slid his ankle into the restraint and pressed the locking mechanism.

Honestly, I didn’t expect him to listen.

Even if I had a gun, it wouldn’t mean much to someone like him.

How did he even get these off in the first place?

I took a closer look at the restraints. They had loosened to the point that a bit of effort could snap them.

He probably wouldn’t have made it far, but still.

“…Are you going to kill me?”

It’s probably because of his little sister, Ethel.

I didn’t think too hard about it.

“You just saved my life, didn’t you? So, I’m bringing you a gift in return.”

I pulled a handkerchief-wrapped item from my coat pocket and revealed the severed finger.

I shook it in front of his face for a moment before casually tossing it onto the floor.

If he stares too long, he might notice that it’s not quite what it seems.

“You’ve got guts, showing me something like this after catching me.”

“Then kill me if you’re so angry. I’m curious to see how far you’d get, Julius.”

His eyes darted wildly, his gaze trembling with madness.

Once someone’s expression crumbles like that, they’re already halfway broken.

Anyway, only eight left now.

This whole process is exhausting, you know.

Wouldn’t it be easier if you just talked?

Ethel might start saying I’m not even her friend anymore.

If I start shouting or making threats, people tend to steel their resolve instead. That’s why I keep quiet and just watch him.

Since it’s past midnight, I should flash him a cheerful smile. That way, I can check off another item on my to-do list.

When I glanced at my watch, I saw that I’d already spent ten minutes with this nonsense.

This was starting to get boring. And I should probably check on Ethel to make sure she isn’t left alone for too long.

I turned around, intending to wake her up, and began to push open the iron door again.

“…I’ll talk.”

The man’s voice echoed from behind me.

“Just spare her. Kill me if you want, but at least spare Ethel.”

I sighed and closed the heavy iron door behind me.

The soundproofing was good, but damn, this door was unnecessarily heavy.

“Why would I kill you? I’ll let you live too, Julius.”

“Besides, if you’d just told me from the start, your sister would still have all ten fingers.”

I reached into my coat pocket, searching for something, but I couldn’t find it.

Right, I’d quit smoking.

My sister used to nag me about it constantly.

“It’s bad for your health,” she’d say. “It stinks, and if you keep doing it, you’ll never get married.”

Back then, I’d laugh it off.

But after she died, I just couldn’t bring myself to smoke anymore.

I tried once. I bit down on a cigarette, lit it, and watched the smoke rise.

For a moment, I swore I saw her face glaring at me through the smoke.

She was always like that.

She made me clean up my act and then left me behind.

If she’d just stayed alive, I wouldn’t be stuck doing filthy work like this.

“…If you’re having a hard time talking, do you want me to bring you some paper and a pen? Although, with your nails ripped out and your joints broken, it might be hard to write.”

“…Forget Ethel. What happens if my parents are caught?”

“They’ll probably be dealt with on-site. If they surrender without a fight, they’ll be brought here. They’ll be released if they cough up enough money.”

“Don’t worry — I’ll make sure Ethel has enough money to keep attending the academy.”

“…I see.”

He slumped forward as if his strength had left him.

“So, where are your parents hiding?”

“There’s an underground tunnel beneath the family’s sorghum farm, and a large underground crypt beneath the church our family sponsors.”

“…And if they’re not there?”

“Then I don’t know.”

“Alright, let’s do this. We’ll spend three full days scouring both places, using our time and manpower just for you. If they’re not there, I’ll toss Ethel in this room with you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, without any food. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have plenty of water.

I’m curious to see how many days it takes before one of you eats the other.”

I’m not a psycho. I wouldn’t actually do that.

If I were going to kill them, I’d just use poison and make it quick.

This is Marco’s preferred way of “persuading” people.

Besides, that finger wasn’t even Ethel’s.

In a little while, I’ll knock him out, grab the finger, and put it back on the librarian girl.

If the potion doesn’t work, I’ll just call in a priest.

“Those two places are the only ones. So please… spare Ethel.”

“I already told Ethel this, but people are very angry right now.

Of course, I’m not a demon, but I’m pretty angry too.

What do you expect? The entire country is in a frenzy, calling to kill every last demon on this land — and even cross the sea to kill the Demon King on the eastern continent.”

I have a feeling I’ll spend my whole life hunting demons.

People need a reason to live.

Sure, most of the time, people can live just fine without one. But as soon as something bad happens — depression, misfortune — they give up on life far too easily.

Before she died, my sister told me to live a long, healthy life.

And to do that, I needed something to focus on.

I’m lucky that I’ve got the perfect target for my rage and grief.

“Are you sure there’s nowhere else they might be hiding?”

“You’ve already searched the entire mansion, haven’t you?

There’s a hidden room behind one of the bookshelves.

If you missed it, check again.”

The idiots downstairs better not have missed something so obvious.

If they did, the one in charge of the search is getting their pay docked.

“Looks like we’ve run out of things to talk about, Julius.

I wish you the best of luck. Oh, I’ll even get you a bed and proper meals, so rest easy.”

He gritted his teeth hard enough to make a scraping sound.

If it were anyone but me, they’d probably string him up by his ankles and pour boiling water mixed with chili powder and spices straight up his nose.

Marco would probably love to do it himself.

“Fine.”

I unlocked the restraints on Julius’s legs, his wrists, and even his chains.

Sure, I had a gun in my hand, but I knew it wouldn’t matter.

This man could shatter my skull way faster than I could pull the trigger.

That’s what it means to face a skilled ability user.

I reached into the cold drawer and pulled out a vial and a syringe.

“Hold out your wrist.”

He complied without a word, holding his arm out.

After pushing the needle in, I slowly pressed the plunger, injecting the drug into his veins.

His eyelids grew heavier with every second.

“Did Ethel ever tell you what you look like right now?”

“Don’t care.”

“You look like a devil wearing human skin. Acting like everything’s fine while doing things like this…”

He trailed off as he fell asleep.

It’s the first time I’ve seen someone fall asleep mid-sentence.

For a moment, I considered moving him onto the cushioned floor, but since he just insulted me, I decided against it.

Let him wake up with his back and neck all cramped.

“A devil, huh.”

Hearing that from someone is a little painful when you’re a frail girl like me.

Anyway, I took the chance to grab the finger I’d tossed onto the floor and wrapped it back in the handkerchief.

Even if it starts rotting, you can still reattach it with magic.

That’s probably why no one cares much when they lose a limb anymore.

I’ll tell Marco tomorrow morning to bring in a bed and some proper food for Julius.

He’ll handle it.

I left the stifling, foul-smelling conversation room and made my way back to the surface.

It’s ironic.

We claim to be “hunting demons,” but in the end, we’re the ones torturing ordinary people.

I wonder what I was going to say just now.

Acting like it’s nothing, huh.

I don’t like this job either.

But who gets to choose their job, anyway?

If you’re born as the son of a baker, you’ll probably end up running a bakery.

If you’re born to a farmer, you become a farmer.

Sure, if you’re talented, you might get a little leeway.

I did think about doing something different.

But my parents didn’t want that.

The only exception was my little sister.

She had this… pure, bright energy that didn’t feel tainted by the eerie, ominous atmosphere of our family.

Our whole family adored her.

Me, my brother, and even our parents.

We would have supported her no matter what she wanted to do — as long as she didn’t end up with some no-good man.

Heavy footsteps echoed as I trudged my way home.

I was planning to wake Ethel up just to mess with her sense of time.

But I forgot.

Was it guilt? Or had I just become stupid?

Feeling the heat rise to my face, I rubbed my eyes.

I guess I’ll just mark off my to-do list with some lies.

I need to do what needs to be done.

Whether it’s right or wrong.

Whether it’s fun or miserable.