I Possessed a Broken Academy Instructor

chapter 23



Chapter 23

“Ah, you’ve awakened?”

The first face Jin Crow saw upon opening his eyes was that of an unknown officer clad in a deep blue uniform.

‘A lieutenant. The uniform is navy. An ordinary officer of the Federal Army, perhaps.’

Instinctively grasping the situation, he belatedly realized he was lying on a bed in the infirmary and sat up.

At that moment, the lieutenant standing before him spoke.

“You’ve been unconscious for two days, Instructor.”

“Who are you?”

It was not an irrelevant or rude question.

Indeed, he had never encountered this officer even once aboard the ship.

As if anticipating his reaction, the lieutenant cleared his throat and replied.

“I am Lieutenant Antonio, of the Federal Army’s 17th Fleet.”

“Oh, I see.”

He nodded in acknowledgment.

If that were the case, it was only natural he had never seen him before.

The 17th Fleet of the Federal Army was none other than the fleet stationed at the Atlas Colony, their intended destination.

“Then this place is…”

And as that thought crossed his mind, he could surmise enough about the situation at hand.

Sure enough.

Antonio nodded and began to briefly brief him on the current circumstances.

“The remnants of the Red Hand that boarded the ship were mostly killed on the spot or committed suicide, but we managed to capture a few. However, the damage to the transport ship is so severe that we’ve evacuated everyone to our vessel for the time being.”

An assault that had taken place in hyperspace.

Naturally, the contamination in the hangar after their boarding was beyond imagination, and the internal damage from the battles that erupted throughout the ship was considerable.

“So, has the ship been abandoned?”

“Most likely, they are in the process of retrieving the Mother AI.”

To retrieve the Mother AI was akin to saying it would be decommissioned.

It was far more cost-effective to detach the main system and reconstruct it than to tow away an entire ship that was rotting from the inside.

Yet, a question lingered.

No matter how severe the damage to the hangar, it shouldn’t have been enough to abandon the ship.

“Ah, well, you see…”

As if reading his thoughts, Antonio immediately added.

“Colonel Obia has nearly blown the bridge to pieces…”

“Then it’s best to discard it.”

Obia Timist, the colonel. Just her name was enough for Jin Crow to instinctively tuck his hands into his pockets.

Yet, there was no way a cigarette would be found at the tips of his fingers clad in a patient’s gown, and just as he awkwardly began to lower his hands again—

Antonio, as if he had been waiting for this moment, pulled out a cigarette and politely offered it to him.

Sizzle, hiss—

Accepting it, he found it lit for him as well.

…Excessively polite, with an air of decorum.

As he narrowed his brows at the dissonance, Antonio rolled his eyes and cautiously spoke.

“By the way… congratulations.”

“…?”

“Liberato. You’ve slain that infamous fugitive, haven’t you?”

For a fleeting moment, he mulled over the words.

But soon, Jin Crow grasped the weight of a second-degree fugitive and understood why Lieutenant Antonio, a stranger from a different affiliation, was treating him with such deference.

‘The fleet that clashes most often with the Red Hand. The 17th Fleet.’

He suspected there might be some personal grudge lurking beneath the surface.

If not that, perhaps it was a small token of gratitude for having killed an enemy they would eventually face.

Regardless, as he settled into the thought that this was enough to cover the cost of the cigarette, the door to the infirmary creaked open, shattering the stillness with a voice.

“Instructor~!”

“…Hah.”

He couldn’t help but exhale a sigh along with the smoke.

“Loyalty!”

“At ease!”

“Yes, sir!”

In contrast, Lieutenant Antonio gazed back and forth between the two with a sparkling expression, as if witnessing two heroes, before suddenly adopting a look of realization.

“I’ll take my leave now. Have a good time.”

Though he meant it as a courtesy, to Jin Crow, it resembled the figure of a deserter abandoning his post.

And so, through the haze of smoke, Obia entered the infirmary, her characteristic carefree expression lighting up as she trotted over to sit beside him.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“It’s merely fatigue.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for a nap?”

Casting a sidelong glance at her playful expression, Jin Crow took a drag from his half-burnt cigarette and then spat out his words with a gruffness that matched his mood.

“…Yeah. Whatever.”

Was it his demeanor that displeased her?

Or perhaps she simply craved to toy with him once more.

Obia pouted her lips exaggeratedly, and then, with a flash of her crimson eyes, she broke into her signature mischievous smile.

“By the way, it seems you were quite fatigued? Lying down for nearly three days, after all.”

“Obia Timist.”

“Hmm?”

He turned his head to look at her.

Her face wore that same foolish grin as always, but to Jin Crow, who had grown somewhat accustomed to her antics, it was merely a mask of absurdity.

Swoosh—.

Rising from his seat, he moved toward the neatly hung military coat on one wall, retrieving his portable ashtray to extinguish his cigarette.

“Don’t test me. Haven’t you already felt it?”

Then, he took out his favored black cigarette and placed it between his lips, adding to her.

“The drugs they injected. They’re not your ordinary stimulants. For a fleeting moment, they shattered the hardened ranks.”

“…What are you talking about?”

“Ha.”

This was why conversations with Obia were exhausting.

If one party wasn’t straightforward, the dialogue would merely spiral in endless circles.

It was tiresome.

Because of this, he spoke even more bluntly.

He even unconsciously cast aside the formalities he had previously maintained.

“No matter how unruly you are, you wouldn’t push a ship to the brink of destruction without cause. The special officers of the Red Hand stormed the bridge. They were all half out of their minds, weren’t they?”

“…”

Instead of responding immediately, Obia raised her lips into an even clearer smile, gazing at him intently.

Yet her eyes remained chillingly cold, as if he had struck a nerve.

‘A Quad Gear special officer couldn’t handle a few superhumans of Triple Gear and blew the bridge to pieces? What a laugh.’

If it had been a battle between Dual Gear and Triple Gear, it would have been more understandable.

But the momentary firepower of Triple Gear against Quad Gear was not merely a step up; it was an overwhelming difference.

Yet, the fact that she could not control her strength was proof enough of how arduous the battle had been.

“I’ll give you a warning, Major.”

“…….”

“I have no interest in what twisted personality you possess or what past haunts you. I only hope we can maintain a line between us.”

He chewed on the half-burned cigarette, his nervous fingers unbuttoning the patient gown as he added.

“Will you be staying, Major?”

“Of course not, Instructor.”

Obia Timist smiled faintly, offering no further words as she stepped out of the infirmary.

And the moment she heard the sound of her footsteps fading beyond the corridor, Jin Crow reached once more into the depths of his uniform.

‘There it is.’

He felt the familiar touch of the syringe rolling beneath his hip flask, his brow furrowing.

‘Pentacle.’

He knew what this substance was.

One of the few combat stimulants that worked on superhumans, it had been mentioned a handful of times.

Especially, the syringe described in the narrative was solely for injecting Pentacle into the nape of the neck.

Yet, the questions lingered: the source of Pentacle, and how the red hand had acquired it.

……And one more thing.

‘What was I back then?’

To speak plainly, his battle with Liberto had been an overwhelming defeat.

No matter how much his body remembered the art of swordsmanship, no matter how many times he had slashed creatures in the simulation room, facing a true special operations officer left him utterly defenseless.

As a result, he had lost consciousness in the end.

‘But when I regained my senses, my body was already moving on its own.’

At first, he thought it was merely a fleeting vision or a delusion.

Yet, as the pain coursed through him and his awareness sharpened, he realized he was indeed fighting Liberto.

The problem, however, was that it was not by his own will.

Ultimately, the only conclusion he could draw was one.

“……I’m going mad.”

It seemed that Jin Crow’s past was far more extravagant than he had imagined.

*

Space Colony.

Between two celestial bodies, a kind of cosmic island is constructed at a Lagrange point, where gravity is neutralized and no influence is felt.

“There! Go check the external armor at Hangar 145!”

“Where is the Lieutenant Colonel?”

“Head to Hangar 121.”

Originally designed as a contingency for the growing population or for the colonization of space, the concept of supply depots and garrisons was added after the war with the Empire.

Thanks to this, the scale of the platforms and hangars where ships come and go could rival that of a considerable metropolis, so chaos was only to be expected.

“Move it, move it!”

“When is the carbine alloy flooring arriving?”

“I’ll find out!”

However, the current congestion of the Atla Colony was beyond anything usual.

It was only natural.

In the midst of their journey to the Atla Colony, instructors from the central, eastern, western, and northern regions were all ambushed by the Red Hand during the hyperspace leap.

A truly unprecedented crisis.

As a result, the 17th Fleet stationed at the Atla Colony was immediately reinforcing defenses in the surrounding areas while also preparing for potential unrest within the colony, moving like a cat hunting mice.

—If there are any suspicious individuals, capture and detain them all. I will take full responsibility.

It was no wonder that the orders from above were quite extreme.

Indeed, it was an artificially created structure, regardless of its scale.

The moment a large-scale terror attack occurred, not only the stationed soldiers but also innocent civilians would perish.

And the high command could never escape that responsibility.

“Wow, everyone’s busy.”

“Serves them right.”

Meanwhile, at that moment on the platform.

Amidst the bustling soldiers, a man in a black uniform chuckled softly, while behind him, two women with cold expressions followed, leading a pair of military police.

“What do you mean, serves them right? Everyone’s struggling here. Philya, you’re too rigid.”

“…I will correct it.”

“What do you mean, correct it?”

Their personalities were truly at opposite ends of the spectrum.

At that moment, a soldier in dark blue uniform approached them and saluted.

“Loyalty! I am Lieutenant Hana of the 17th Fleet. Is Instructor Hughes from the Eastern Special Officer Academy here? And is Captain Philya of the Military Police present?”

Hughes responded with a warm smile, noting the tension radiating from her, which was almost palpable.

“Ah, Lieutenant Lee Hana, good to see you.”

“Y-yes, good to see you too!”

“Mind your manners, Lieutenant.”

Of course, unlike him, Philia wore a face that suggested she was not particularly pleased.

“I apologize. Philia tends to be a bit inflexible. So, have the other instructors arrived? I heard we weren’t the only ones to suffer. Surely…?”

“Oh, no. Fortunately, I’ve heard that the other instructors have all safely emerged from the hyperspace and are en route to the Atlas Colony.”

“Is that so? They all have long lives ahead of them. For no good reason.”

“Pardon?”

In that moment, it was a remark that made one doubt their ears.


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