I Possessed a Broken Academy Instructor

Chapter 18

Miel Anber’s expression brightened for a fleeting moment, only to be replaced by confusion at Jin Crow’s subsequent words.

“Well, the reason is…”

“You may sit.”

He seemed worried that he might receive a penalty, much like Dokoran, for failing to articulate the reason, yet Jin Crow nodded with a face that bore satisfaction.

“The creatures were not first observed on Aurum. There have been consistent mentions of their dangers in certain circles. Dr. Lee Su-jong, an authority on the matter, is no exception.”

The very reason Dr. Lee Su-jong was treated as a half-heretic in academia stemmed from his obsession with these creatures.

Colonial planets often suffer from poor security, or if the conditions are better, the indigenous populations are frequently hostile towards the representatives of the Human Synthesis Nation.

Yet, for the past decade, he had tirelessly traversed these colonial worlds, gathering information with relentless fervor.

This raises an immediate question.

“Why has humanity only now realized the dangers posed by these creatures?”

Behind his indifferent gaze lay a hint of disdain.

“Humanity was complacent, and they were meticulous.”

Jin Crow unfurled a galactic map, detailing the colonial planets beyond the defense line, just behind the sect.

He pointed to a planet neither too far nor too close from the defense line and continued.

“This is a colonial planet known as Area 72. According to reports submitted by the governor’s office over the past decade, it has endured a total of twelve invasions.”

At this, the cadets could not help but recall the situations on Aurum and Lemal, their faces betraying their confusion.

“A colonial planet with twelve invasions endured?”

“Is that even possible? How?”

What is a colonial planet?

As Hino Kanae had mentioned earlier, it is a place where those deemed unfit to be part of the Human Synthesis Nation—be they other races or criminals—live under the protection and guidance of the governor’s office.

Whether this is right or wrong is a matter of much debate within the Synthesis Nation, but their civilization and technological level, at best, could be likened to that of Earth in the 21st century.

However, Jin Crow seemed entirely unconcerned with the cadets’ reactions, calmly manipulating the hologram before him.

“And the damage, at most, amounted to parts of a city being lost. Of course, this is a disaster for the inhabitants of the colonial planet, but from the military’s perspective, receiving reports from within the defense line, it would simply be classified as ‘minor damage.'”

By this point, the cadets could hardly contain their curiosity about what would follow.

And as if to answer their unspoken questions, Jin Crow spoke succinctly.

“In simple terms, it is ‘a difference in purpose,’ as Dr. Lee Su-jong explained.”

“A difference in purpose?”

“The clusters of creatures observed on Aurum number at least one hundred million. If we include yet-to-be-defined biological weapons or higher species, that number could increase by tens of thousands. In contrast…”

With a beep, a summary of the invasion records floated in the air beside Area 72.

“In Area 72, the observed entities number at most in the tens of thousands, and even those are mostly inferior consumables, lesser than mass-produced variants.”

And the cadets, upon witnessing this, could only swallow their silence, finally grasping the weight of his words.

Jin Crow nodded at their expressions, adding, “Dr. Lee Su-jong, along with the researchers collaborating with the military, share a common view: the sporadic creature disturbances we’ve encountered thus far are merely ‘reconnaissance’ or perhaps ‘pheromone marking.’”

In truth, it was not mere speculation; it was the reality.

“The initial discovery site of these creatures was Area 121, now a forsaken planet due to resource depletion and aging.”

Indeed, the creatures had approached slowly from distant colonial worlds, their presence a vague and cautious threat, just enough to stir humanity’s wariness.

“Thus, to continue, we speculate that within the creatures, there exists a higher entity, akin to a queen bee or other social insects, responsible for command…”

How much time had passed since then?

“…This concludes the brief overview of the creatures’ discovery and the principles of their behavior studied to date.”

Whether shocked by the lecture or dismissively uninterested, Jin Crow pressed on, delivering his prepared content until the time to conclude the lecture arrived. He lightly tapped the podium and declared, “The assignment from the last practical session should be submitted to Assistant Instructor Gi Natio. That will be all.”

As was his custom, he stepped out of the classroom the moment the lecture ended.

Yet, the instant he opened the door to the classroom—

“Instructor Jin Crow.”

As if waiting, a fellow instructor standing just outside called out to him.

“Headmaster Ideale is looking for you.”

“…Hmm.”

Jin Crow, with an inscrutable gesture, tugged slightly at the black tie around his neck and replied, “I’ll go now.”

*

The headmaster’s office mirrored the essence of Ideale itself—immaculate and devoid of unnecessary luxuries, filled only with papers piled high upon the desk.

She sat there, biting her lip, perhaps due to the furrowed brow that marred her features.

“…Huh.”

The glasses she wore solely for work trembled slightly, and soon she removed them, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…It’s become a headache.”

But then, upon hearing the sharp, agitated footsteps echoing in the hallway, Ideale sank into her chair, a look of resignation settling upon her face.

Knock, knock.

A brief rap sounded at the door.

“Come in.”

With a creak, the door swung open, revealing none other than Jin Crow.

He made no effort to tidy his disheveled attire, striding confidently toward her as he closed the door behind him, his voice steady as he asked, “I heard you called for me.”

Instead of answering, she turned the official document she had been staring at, presenting it for him to see.

“Hmm?”

Jin Crow’s brow furrowed slightly at her sudden action, but soon he grasped the reason behind the troubled expression that marred her features.

“This is…”

“A directive to send Instructor Jin Crow as the admissions auditor. It arrived under the name of the Ministry of Defense.”

Admissions auditor. The mere mention of those words caused Jin Crow’s expression to stiffen oddly.

Watching him, Ideale couldn’t help but think, ‘Of course.’

‘It’s a position most instructors avoid.’

The Central Special Officer Academy produces about one to two thousand special officers each year.

Yet, the official population of the United Synthesis Nation hovers around ten trillion. If one were to include the inhabitants of colonial planets and those without citizenship, the number would easily surpass twelve trillion.

…It’s unmanageable.

Moreover, in the ongoing Third Galactic War, the number of special officers is a direct factor in determining the outcome of battles. Naturally, the Central Special Officer Academy is not the only institution producing these officers.

“What about the Atlas Colony?”

At Jin Crow’s words, Ideale nodded, taking a sip of the now lukewarm black tea resting on the table before responding.

“It’s a colony with a command center that houses refugees from the Lemal planet and directs the front lines. The mission is to scout for talented individuals among the cadets of the Lemal Planet Defense Academy.”

On the surface, the task seemed absurdly simple.

Yet, why is it so avoided?

The answer is equally straightforward.

There are five academies in total that train special officers for the federal army, including the Central Special Officer Academy.

In other words, it means they must compete with those institutions.

“Are all the other academies sending representatives as well?”

“Except for the Southern Special Officer Academy. Probably. They’re likely overwhelmed due to a recent internal audit.”

Fortunately, one competitor was eliminated, but that didn’t make the task any easier.

In the end, Jin Crow narrowed his eyes at Ideale, silently seeking her understanding. When she nodded, albeit rarely, he immediately lit a cigarette.

Sizzle, hiss—

A thick, gray smoke billowed from his lips, and soon he uttered a single word.

“It is a matter hard to comprehend.”

“…I share that sentiment.”

It was not merely that the higher-ups had ‘designated’ the entrance examination inspector; such orders were unheard of.

Beyond being simply outrageous or unprecedented, it was an act without precedent.

Perhaps that was the reason.

Though neither spoke it aloud, both harbored the same thought.

‘It must be the doing of Rosen…’

‘Or perhaps, Kukenhausen.’

Whichever it was, the discomfort remained the same.

Yet the crux of the matter lay in the fact that this command had come under the name of the ‘Ministry of Defense.’

For that reason, Ideale let out a sigh as she gazed at Jin Crow, who was smoking with a stern expression.

“If you wish, I can raise an objection to the higher-ups. However, whether it will be accepted…”

This too was the utmost consideration possible, given that there was a precedent for such a claim.

At least, it meant she was willing to shoulder the risk of being deemed ‘insubordinate’ since there was a justification.

But in that moment, Jin Crow furrowed his brow as if pondering something, then asked her.

“Atlas Colony. No, which nation borders the Lemal planet?”

“The Free Planet Alliance, I suppose.”

And at that moment, Ideale felt it.

The inexplicable sense of unease she had been receiving from Jin Crow lately.

“Is that so.”

With a swift motion, he extinguished the half-burnt cigarette in the portable ashtray.

Then, as if he had gathered his thoughts, he swept back his slightly disheveled bangs and spoke.

“The objection has been filed. Then.”

“What?”

He offered a brief nod to the questioning Ideale before departing.

The fact that he had bowed instead of saluting was astonishing, yet she found herself troubled by something far more pressing than his demeanor.

“The Free Planet Alliance? What business do they have?”

It was a series of events that made no sense at all.

*

‘Atlas Colony. I thought that name sounded familiar.’

Most of the early refugees of the planet Lermal were rescued by the Red Hand.

Yet, could the Federal Army of the United Human Synthesis Republic simply stand by and watch?

Naturally, forces drawn from the nearby stationed 17th Fleet and various planetary defense forces were swiftly dispatched, and the Red Hand had no choice but to retreat in the end.

‘But whatever the justification, a terrorist organization would not back down so easily.’

If my memory serves me right, or hasn’t changed, it was certain that something would erupt in the Atla Colony.

The problem, however, was that even in the original account, the exact nature of that event was never revealed.

‘It could be terrorism, or perhaps my own fears.’

Personally, I hoped for the latter.

After all, it wasn’t something I could refuse, but I didn’t want to gamble with my life just yet.

Moreover, the true purpose was not some noble desire to resolve the incidents occurring in the Atla Colony, but rather something profoundly personal.

‘Once the matter is settled, I can stop by on my way back.’

The Free Planet Alliance, how should I put it?

It serves as a neutral ground amidst the struggle for supremacy between the Synthesis Republic and the Empire, while also acting as a hub where all the wealth and goods of the universe converge, functioning as a tourist destination.

In other words, even if he were to make a brief visit after finishing his task, it wouldn’t raise much suspicion externally.

“Hehe.”

“……”

Lost in thought, Jin Crow instinctively reached for his hip flask at the sound of a carefree giggle cutting through his musings.

“Yap, yap yap. Open your eyes, Instructor!”

But with superhuman patience, he opened his eyes to see a red-haired woman sitting before him, waving her palm in front of his face, and quietly asked,

“So, really, why did you follow me, Major Obia?”

It was a remark laced with feigned weariness.