Academy (4)
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms as I stared at Evan. He stood in front of me, shifting uncomfortably, his nervous energy almost comical.
"Your little contraband business," I said slowly, keeping my tone casual but firm, "is mine now. But we're not running it like some cheap black-market hustle. We're turning it into something real."
Evan blinked. "Real?"
I smirked. "Yeah, real. We're starting a trading company. A legitimate one—or at least one that looks legitimate. We're calling it *The Golden Compass.*"
Evan scratched his head, clearly confused. "And… what exactly is this 'Golden Compass' supposed to do?"
"Transport and sell goods," I explained. "Luxury items, potions, enchanted trinkets, rare imports—you name it. With my *Subspace* skill, we'll be able to move products directly to customers without the need for warehouses, shipping, or any of the usual hassle. No delays, no overhead, no risk of theft. We'll dominate the market."
Evan looked skeptical, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. "That… sounds smart. But we don't have the money or resources for something like that. I mean, this—" he gestured vaguely around the room, "—is all we've got."
"Show me," I said.
---
Evan led me to a storage room tucked away in one of the academy's lesser-used wings. The place was cramped, the walls lined with shelves packed with dusty crates and boxes. It smelled faintly of damp wood and stale air.
"This is everything," he said, gesturing to the inventory like he was showing off treasure.
I walked through the room, picking through the stock. Most of it was low-tier contraband: smuggled liquor, cheap alchemical potions, some banned books with ridiculous titles like *Forbidden Lust* and *The Queen's Secret Heir.*
"This is your idea of a business?" I asked, holding up a particularly shabby bottle of whiskey.
Evan bristled. "Hey, it's not easy running this under the radar! Besides, we make around fifty gold a month."
"Fifty gold," I repeated flatly. "That's nothing."
"Well, yeah, but we're a small operation," he muttered defensively. "We can't expand without drawing attention."
"Then we won't expand—we'll replace," I said. "Here's the plan: for the next two weeks, we stockpile whatever we can. Then, we hit a trading caravan and take everything they've got."
Evan's jaw dropped. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," I said. "If we want this to work, we need real inventory. And to get that, we're going to take it."
---
The next two weeks were packed.
Evan kept the current operation running while I handled the planning. I spent hours pouring over maps of the surrounding area, identifying trade routes and tracking potential targets. Eventually, I found the perfect one: a small merchant guild that specialized in rare and expensive goods.
Their caravan's route took them through a narrow forest trail, an isolated spot where an ambush would be easy to set up. The plan came together piece by piece—where to block the road, how to neutralize the guards, how to make a clean getaway.
---
At the same time, I started laying the groundwork for *The Golden Compass.*
I forged a new identity: *Lucien Dross*, a fictional nobleman from a distant province. Using part of the money Evan's operation had earned, I paid for forged documents, including a title and trade permits. With these in hand, I officially registered *The Golden Compass* as a trading company specializing in "discreet, high-quality deliveries."
The genius of it was the separation between my two identities. Lucien Dross was an untouchable noble merchant, while Julius Vaelorian was just another academy student.
---
Finally, the night of the heist arrived.
I wore a black cloak and mask, my figure blending into the shadows as I waited in the forest. The air was cool, the faint rustle of leaves the only sound around me.
I didn't have to wait long. The caravan appeared right on schedule, the clatter of wheels and horses breaking the stillness.
---
The lead wagon slowed as it approached the fallen tree I'd placed across the trail.
"What's this?" one of the guards muttered, stepping forward to inspect it.
That was my moment.
I surged forward, my movements silent and precise. My first kick connected with the guard's ribs, sending him crashing into the wagon.
The second guard barely had time to react before I ducked under his swing and drove my elbow into his stomach, following up with a swift strike to his temple.
The remaining guards shouted in alarm, scrambling to draw their weapons.
"Hold the line!" one of them barked.
I smirked, my blood pumping with adrenaline. *Too slow.*
Activating *Aura,* I felt the rush of mana flood my body, enhancing my speed and strength. I darted between the guards, my strikes landing with brutal precision.
One guard swung his sword, but I sidestepped easily, countering with a spinning hook kick that knocked him unconscious. Another tried to flank me, but I caught him with a back kick to the chest, sending him flying into a tree.
Within minutes, all of them were down, their weapons scattered on the ground.
---
With the guards dealt with, I turned my attention to the wagons.
Activating *Subspace,* I began transferring the goods into my inventory. Crates of high-grade potions, enchanted jewelry, barrels of rare spices—everything the merchant guild had painstakingly gathered was now mine.
When the last item disappeared into *Subspace,* I melted back into the shadows, leaving the unconscious guards behind.
---
Back at the academy, I finalized the launch of *The Golden Compass.* Using my alias, Lucien Dross, I began reaching out to potential clients through Evan's network. I even sent letters to minor nobles, offering them exclusive deals on rare goods.
The response was immediate. Orders flooded in, and thanks to *Subspace,* deliveries were made quickly and discreetly.
It wasn't perfect yet, but it was a strong start.
---
Meanwhile, I continued my preparations for *The Demon's Seed.* Between managing the company, training, and scouting the academy for signs of the professor's influence, my schedule was packed.
The only thing that felt… normal was Yurei.
The shy, soft-spoken boy was slowly warming up to me. It was subtle—little smiles here, a quiet "thank you" there—but it was progress. He didn't know what I was planning—how I'd use him to bring down Arthur.
Not yet.