I Become a Secret Police Officer of The Imperial Academy

Chapter 7

I’m exhausted.

Not physically — mentally.

But it’s not as bad as it was before.

That suffocating sense of guilt didn’t rise up this time.

My heart just felt a little heavy, like an uncomfortable weight I could still carry.

It was as if all of this had never been a big deal to begin with.

And I hated that.

It felt like I had developed a new fear.

The fear of getting used to it.

The fear of becoming indifferent.

The first time you do something, it’s always a shock.

The first time I sat in a conversation room to “interview” a guest, or the first time I watched someone else do it, or the first time I witnessed a disposal — the shock of it didn’t fade for an entire week.

The second time, the same unease and trembling stuck around.

By the third time, I started getting used to it.

And after that… it was just routine.

That first “conversation” with Ethel had been a brutal shock.

After all, I’d never been assigned to handle someone I actually knew.

But now, even that feels mundane.

My head feels dizzy.

My hand is coated in crumbs from the cookies I was supposed to give to Ethel.

They were crushed to bits, probably when I pulled them out of my pocket.

My fingers felt sticky, so I shook them off.

That’s when Marco, with his usual nonchalance, struck up a conversation.

I had cookie crumbs on my hands, but Marco’s hands were covered in something red.

“Looks like I’m the one who’ll have to clean that up in the end, huh?”

Is today’s work already done?

Come to think of it, with my parents gone, Marco is the most skilled person left in the household.

He’s also the person who’s had the most “conversations.”

That’s why I decided to ask him something.

A question I probably shouldn’t ask.

“Hey, Marco, are you ever scared?”

Marco knew exactly what I meant, but he still gave me that “I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-this” look and tried to dodge the question.

“…Without context, that’s a hard question to answer, young lady.”

“Conversations, disposals, all that.”

The air grew quiet for a moment.

Marco scratched his chin, thinking it over.

“Yeah, I get scared.”

“Then how do you do it so easily, like it’s nothing?”

“Are you accusing me of being heartless, young lady?”

“No, I’m just curious.

Here I am, a pathetic girl trembling just because I splashed a little water on my friend’s face.”

“Young lady, how long have you been doing these ‘conversations’?”

“Since I was fifteen, so… two years.”

“Stick it out until you’re thirty, and you’ll be numb as stone.

That’s how it was for me.

Some people adapt in a day, though. There was this one guy who got used to it on his first day.”

Marco casually pulled a cigarette from his coat and lit it.

Knowing that I used to smoke too, he offered me one.

I shook my head.

“Look at the world, young lady.

How many people out there just refuse to be reasoned with?

There are still mages out there using human sacrifices for magic.

There are those filthy half-demons who eat human flesh.

And recently, demons have been setting off bombs and causing chaos in the streets.”

His face, which had been smiling as usual, settled into a cold, expressionless mask.

“Not all of them are like that, sure.

But the ones who get dragged in here? They’re always the bad ones.

If you don’t believe that, you won’t last long in this line of work.”

“Yeah, but how do you believe that?”

“You already know the answer, young lady.

You know there are demons out there who are perfectly normal.

If every demon on this continent went wild at once, we’d have ten times the number of dead bodies we do now.

But despite knowing that, you still treat every single demon like they’re…”

“Shut up. I get it.”

Marco shrugged, flashing me a look that could only be described as smug.

“Just following orders, young lady.”

I wanted to call him a bastard, but I held my tongue.

The question I asked had crossed the line to begin with.

So all I did was glare at him.

“I’m heading to the sorghum farm.”

“Take care, young lady.

Oh, by the way, there was no one under the church.”

“…And how do you know that?”

Marco didn’t answer.

“The family head heard about your work, young lady, and sent someone to investigate.

He also assigned a mage to accompany you to the sorghum farm.”

I had only mentioned wanting to send a person, but it turns out they even went to the underground crypt beneath the church.

It’s not a bad thing since it saves me some effort, but still.

I would’ve preferred to check it out myself, just for peace of mind.

“Well, that’s considerate of him.”

***

When I walked out of the basement, my subordinates were already waiting for me inside the building.

They must’ve come all the way in since there weren’t any students around.

“The sun hasn’t even set yet.

And this isn’t even the meeting spot.”

“The family head was concerned, so he told us to head over early.”

“What’s there to be concerned about?

If you get caught sneaking around, that’s when it becomes a problem.”

“…Didn’t think of that.”

This is why I hate working with guys from the front lines.

They follow orders like they’re battering rams with no brain to think for themselves.

My brother seems to like them that way, though.

“Five men sitting around in a café with one girl is just embarrassing.

Since you’re here, let’s head out now.”

I went back down to the basement and changed my clothes.

Wearing a white school uniform draws way too much attention.

Instead, I put on a dull brown dress — the kind a girl from a modest but respectable household might wear — and tied my hair back with a ribbon.

I tucked a mask into my coat.

It’s too conspicuous to wear it on the street, but I’ll have it ready.

The mask had a crow design painted on it.

Just like Julius knows my face, Ethel’s parents probably know my face too.

I can only hope they don’t recognize my voice.

If they realize it’s me, they’ll start whining about their sob stories, begging me to show mercy.

It’d be better if they surrendered quietly when we found them.

Of course, any demons they’re sheltering will be handed over immediately.

If we search both locations and find nothing, that’s not too bad either.

I’ll just erase the whole ordeal from my memory and move on like nothing happened.

There will always be more demons to hunt.

I led the group as we walked, letting my mind wander.

At some point, the sun set, and we were surrounded by the vast expanse of farmland.

I pulled the mask out of my coat, put it on, and asked my subordinates a question.

“Think anyone we know would recognize me like this?”

“…Are we heading to someone you know, young lady?”

“Yeah, it’s a friend’s parents.

So, what’s it to you?”

“They won’t recognize you.

At least, I hope they won’t.”

“Good.”

There were no demons working in the sorghum fields, just a sea of withered stalks.

The labor force to harvest them was gone, and even the burned parts of the field were left untouched.

Off in the distance, a small house stood at the edge of the fields.

That’s probably where the entrance to the underground tunnel is.

“Anyone here been to the church basement?”

The mage raised his hand.

“Marco said there was nothing down there, but did you notice anything unusual?”

“It was just a regular underground crypt.

Bones scattered all over, covered in dust.

Doesn’t look like anyone’s been down there in a long time.”

“Then let’s hope this is the spot.”

If not, everything I’ve done so far will have been for nothing.

I went through all that with Ethel — the crying, the shouting, even the water games — and if we don’t find anything, it’ll all be pointless.

A patch of wildflowers bloomed by the roadside, their yellow petals bright against the evening sky.

By the time we reached the little house, night had fully fallen.

I took a deep breath and pulled out my pistol.

There’s probably no one inside, but just in case.

In a confined space like this, long weapons like swords or rifles are more of a liability.

That’s why one of the subordinates who knew magic wasn’t carrying a long sword but a shorter one, about one meter in length.

Three others carried pistols like mine.

Even if their sword skills aren’t as good as a mage’s magic, at least they can deflect arrows or bullets in a pinch.

That’s why I had one of them lead the charge.

We don’t need overwhelming force to drag people out of hiding.

Back in the day, people like him were called “knights.”

But if you don’t ride a horse, how can you call yourself a knight?

“Just a swordsman,” I muttered to myself.

I knocked on the door and spoke softly.

“Is anyone home?”

No response.

I stepped back, and the swordsman kicked the door in.

As expected, there was no one inside.

Now, we needed to find the entrance to the underground passage.

But there was no need for us to knock on the floors or scour the place inch by inch.

A single spell from the mage would reveal it in seconds.

Sure enough, the mage quietly muttered a spell, and moments later, he nodded and signaled to us with his eyes.

The swordsman swallowed hard, nodded back, and stomped on the spot.

CRACK!

The floorboards splintered with a loud, echoing snap.

From beneath the floor, we heard the faint, ragged sound of breathing.

They must think they’re being clever, holding their breath and hiding down there.

Pathetic.

We stepped onto the stairs and slowly descended into the underground chamber.

It was warm.

They must have just turned off the lights.

“Turn on the lights,” I said to the mage.

In an instant, the dark basement lit up.

They’d gone through a lot of effort.

The brick walls had been sealed tight.

A thick mat was spread across the floor.

Though covered with a sheet, I could see a pillow and a blanket crammed in the corner.

There were plates with fruit, potatoes, and corn scattered on a small table.

Until just moments ago, someone had been sitting here.

“Come on out.

We already know you’re here.

This is the Imperial Security Bureau.”

Silence.

I fired my pistol into the air.

The sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the cramped underground space.

The powder ignited, filling the air with smoke and the acrid smell of gunpowder.

If they weren’t scared before, they were now.

I scanned the surroundings.

There were tiny air holes drilled into the walls for ventilation, but none of them were large enough for a person to fit through.

No escape routes.

They couldn’t have run away.

“Rosenberg.

We know everything.

Your son was so moved by our sincerity that he told us everything.”

Still no answer.

This was the most dangerous moment.

Even a cornered rat will bite a cat when it has no way out.

If they’re a demon, they could burst out of nowhere.

They could pop out of the floor if they wanted to.

If I can see them, it’s not a problem.

But unseen threats are the worst.

“If you don’t come out right now, I’m going to fill this place with firewood and light it up.”

Finally, someone emerged.

“…Please, spare the children.”