I Possessed a Broken Academy Instructor

Chapter 27

Hiss, exhale—.

The heavy smoke of the cigar swirled in my mouth before finally being expelled.

The smoke, scattering into the air like a mirage, broke apart and danced, the gray tendrils reaching the ceiling of the conference room.

“Phew.”

Major Legchaf finally let out a sigh, as if he had just found a breath of life.

Then, with a jiggling of his ample flesh, he gestured with his chin.

“Sit. Care for a smoke?”

“Yes.”

“Then have one. Don’t hold back. There’s a saying: blood ties, academic ties, connections, and smoking—none of it is for nothing.”

“I won’t decline.”

It was a welcome invitation amidst the creeping shadows of military memories, where nicotine had become a desperate craving.

I shoved my hand into my pocket and pulled out the black cigarette I always smoked, placing it between my lips.

As I did, Major Legchaf, still holding the cigar, flashed a grin and added, “Black Star. It’s potent for the price, a bit of an acquired taste, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen one.”

There was something nagging at me since earlier.

Indeed, there was a strange familiarity in the sly tone of the major’s voice.

Just as Jin Crow was about to voice his thoughts on this peculiar sentiment, the major crushed the end of his cigar into the ashtray, as if signaling a shift to the main topic.

“This time, the order is to withdraw.”

“Excuse me?”

Yet, that statement was hard for Jin Crow to comprehend.

After all the struggles to reach this point, now he was being told to pull back?

Just as my expression was about to harden in disbelief—

“Oh, dear. Were you unaware?”

Legchaf tilted his head, observing my reaction, then chuckled softly as he continued.

“I’m also from Rosen.”

“……!”

A fleeting silence hovered between them.

But it was only for a moment, as Jin Crow slowly took a drag from his cigarette and lit it, then turned the question back to him.

“What’s the reason?”

It was a succinct inquiry.

There was no real reason for Rosen to withdraw from this affair.

His doubts were soon quelled by the explanation that followed from Major General Legchaf.

“We’re soothing the smaller factions. You know this, don’t you? A few years back, after the Galactic War ended and military budgets were slashed, it was the smaller factions that took the hardest hit.”

In truth, while they were called smaller factions, the larger factions wielded an abnormally great influence.

A ‘faction’ isn’t something that simply comes into being. There must be shared interests, and relationships that cannot be easily betrayed for it to function properly.

Naturally, the smaller factions were not insignificant forces, based on several planets.

Thus, even the larger factions had to concede when it came to negotiations, as long as they couldn’t eliminate them all at once.

That was the only way to maintain the balance of power.

“The planet Lemal is already on the brink of being irrecoverable. For us larger factions, it’s too ambiguous to consume and too precious to discard. Therefore, it’s only right to use it appropriately.”

For that reason, the larger factions, including Rosen and Kukenhausen, had to give when it was time to give.

The result was this.

To funnel the various manpower and resources from the byproducts of Lemal to the smaller factions, and once the distribution was complete, to withdraw cleanly.

“In other words…”

Having heard that much, Jin Crow flicked the half-burnt ash from his cigarette and looked at Major General Legchaf.

They were truly a bunch who couldn’t even fathom their own future.

“Politics.”

It was a single word, spat out while suppressing a surge of irritation, masked by an expressionless facade.

In response, Major General Legchaf nodded with a face that evoked the image of a well-fed pig, his demeanor unfazed.

“Exactly.”

At that moment, no further conversation was necessary.

*

Unlike the elite special officer academy, which maintained a total of about five to six thousand cadets, the planetary defense special officer academies had no specific quotas.

In fact, there was no real need for one.

They were always short on numbers.

It was almost a given.

Those with bright futures and talent had many options, but for those of ambiguous caliber, the more attractive choices lay in becoming freelance mercenaries or joining a PMC rather than serving a mandatory ten years as an officer.

Because of that, the number of cadets at the Planetary Defense Special Operations Academy rarely exceeds two thousand.

Is it thanks to that?

Or perhaps because of it?

The cadets of the Lemaal Planet were able to escape to the Atla Colony relatively quickly after the incident unfolded.

However, that did not mean it only had a positive impact on the cadets.

“…….”

“…….”

In the military district of Atla Colony.

The atmosphere in the building where the cadets stayed during their training was nothing short of tumultuous.

It was hardly surprising.

The number of Lemaal refugees who died or went missing in this crisis was beyond counting.

Counting the survivors would be a quicker task.

“……It must be nice. We’ve lost our families and are being dragged off to another planet.”

“Hey, keep your voice down.”

“What? Am I wrong?”

Yet, that was not the only reason.

“What did you just say, senior?”

“What, you want to fight?”

The mood among the cadets was equally grim.

They were not fools.

While the refugees outside clung to the thread of hope for planetary restoration, it was already evident that such a thing was practically impossible.

If that was the case, the future of the cadets would be starkly divided.

They could either go to a higher special operations academy.

Or scatter to nearby planets alongside the refugees.

“Hey, you guys are lucky. Right? I heard the instructors from the higher special ops academy have arrived. Go on, eat well and live well!”

It could be said that conflict was almost inevitable.

It was not just a simple affection for their planet; the existing feelings of inferiority and victimhood intertwined, naturally dividing them into factions.

“Ugh, why are you acting like this? Seriously!”

“Stop! I said stop!”

The already tense atmosphere solidified in an instant, and soon several cadets were grabbing each other by the collars.

The instructors are not absent.

Yet even those instructors nearby could not easily dissuade the cadets.

…How could one not understand that feeling?

Moreover, the instructors themselves were equally drained.

Most of the instructors from the Combat Department had gone to support the defense forces to ensure the cadets’ complete escape, and few remained who could return.

Beep! Bzzzz!

In the end, it fell to the defense forces, who arrived a step too late, to manage the situation.

“What in the world are you doing!”

“Disperse! Disperse!”

As some special duty officers in black uniforms shouted among the brown-clad defense forces, the atmosphere of the cadets, which had nearly escalated into a brawl, calmed considerably.

Thud, thud—.

At last, heavy boot steps echoed in the now-silent dining hall, and soon a woman entered, scanning the cadets.

“Loyalty. You have arrived, Captain.”

All the defense forces intervening with her saluted in unison to the woman clad in black.

She accepted it with a natural grace, then surveyed the cadets, letting out a small sigh.

“…What a mess.”

The emotion contained in that softly murmured phrase was nothing short of disdain, yet none present dared to contradict her.

It was only natural.

Before their eyes stood none other than ‘Captain Satra.’

“Lieutenant Rotten.”

“…Yes, Captain.”

Satra called upon the highest-ranking instructor.

Immediately, Lieutenant Rotten approached her, bowing his head in apology.

In truth, it was absurd.

A mere special duty captain reprimanding an instructor of the special officer academy, who was commissioned from the rank of major, was no small matter.

“The atmosphere is already tense. Control the cadets.”

“I am deeply sorry.”

Even the cadets, witnessing this bizarre scene, might have felt compelled to voice their discomfort, yet they too remained indifferent.

It was only natural.

She had the ‘right’ to do so.

Right then.

“Captain.”

The sergeant standing behind glanced back and whispered something into Captain Satra’s ear.

“…I shall take my leave now. Very well.”

She turned her body, as if to avoid an awkward encounter, and stepped out of the dining hall.

But perhaps it was later than she thought.

Or maybe the others were simply walking a bit faster.

As the defense forces led by Captain Satra stepped outside, they found themselves face to face with a group approaching them.

“Oh? What’s this atmosphere?”

The faces before them were quite striking.

No, it would be more accurate to say they were unusual.

“What are you doing blocking the way?”

Three men clad in black uniforms stood there.

One wore a smiling face, another a gruff expression, and the last was utterly expressionless, with a girl who looked no older than an elementary school student caught among them.

Moreover, all those following were military police.

The only one in the navy uniform denoting the federal army was Lieutenant Lee Hana, who stood frozen, her eyes darting about.

“W-well, that is…”

Of course, she too was stammering in embarrassment, offering little help.

A silence hung heavily between them.

At last, it was Captain Satra who broke the stillness.

“Are you instructors from the Upper Special Officer Academy?”

“Just looking at you, I can’t—. Ugh!”

“I apologize! I apologize!”

John, the military police from the Western Special Officer Academy, hurriedly clamped a hand over the free-spirited Miller’s mouth.

Naturally, the expressions of the defense forces standing behind Captain Satra twisted in an instant, but as the instructor Hughes from the Eastern Special Officer Academy opened his mouth, the worst was averted.

“I’m sorry. Ever since the ambush in hyperspace, I’ve been afflicted with a long-standing ailment—rabies, you see. But who might you be?”

“How unfortunate. I am Captain Satra, a special officer of the Lemal Planet Defense Forces.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of you.”

From behind, Miller’s voice could be faintly heard, his eyes rolling as he shouted, “Who’s got rabies?!” But with John already accustomed to the chaos of insubordination, no one paid him any mind.

“Anyway, Captain Satra, I apologize for the disturbance. Ha ha.”

“I understand. Then.”

Thanks to this, Instructor Hughes and Captain Satra were able to conclude their conversation after a brief exchange of pleasantries, maintaining an appropriate distance.

Instructor Hughes stepped aside slightly, as if to say, “Go on,” and Captain Satra saluted before quickly moving away.

“Did he leave?”

“He has.”

Only then did John and the other military police of the Western Special Officer Academy release the weight of Instructor Miller, who had been pressing down on them with an expression of exhaustion.

“Those b*stards…!”

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Hey!”

As expected, Miller squawked loudly as he always did, but unfortunately, no one paid him any mind.

Especially Jin Crow, who narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace.

It was the noise that had driven him.

Thus, under the guise of indifference, they made their way into the dining hall, with the now-cooling Miller grumbling as he followed behind them.

“Hmm.”

“…Here comes what was bound to come.”

Naturally, the cadets had also observed the earlier situation from a distance, so there was no way they wouldn’t recognize who they were.

“Alright, cadets, nice to meet you.”

Did he anticipate their reaction?

Or perhaps he simply enjoyed being the center of attention.

Hughes casually scanned the cadets before speaking in a light, buoyant tone.

“I am Instructor Hughes Chaint from the Eastern Special Officer Academy.”

Having introduced himself briefly, he immediately turned to look at Miller.

Miller, perhaps feeling embarrassed to act out in front of the cadets, cleared his throat with a loud cough before opening his mouth.

“I am Instructor Miller Kamp from the Western Special Officer Academy. This instructor…”

“From the North. Judith.”

But before he could finish his introduction, a yawn-laden voice from Judith interrupted him, sounding as if she found it all a bother.

For a moment, Miller appeared to bristle, but he held his tongue, as if he couldn’t dare to be angry with Judith.

No, perhaps it would be more accurate to say he simply couldn’t afford to be angry.

Yet, thanks to that, the atmosphere lightened a bit, and all remaining eyes turned to the last man standing.

“……”

Disheveled black hair, eyes of a dull, dark hue.

Pale skin shadowed by deep-set dark circles.

Standing over 180 centimeters tall, a gaunt and sharp visage, yet beneath the coat, a body that felt solid and unyielding.

And finally, despite the considerable distance, the heavy scent of unrefined tobacco and a faint whiff of alcohol lingered in the air.

“Instructor of the Central Special Operations Academy.”

He seemed indifferent to the gazes directed his way, casting a brief glance over the cadets before parting his cracked lips.

“Jin Crow.”

At the sound of that name, the cadets recalled a certain rumor that had been circulating within the defense forces.

“Jin Crow?”

“If it’s Jin Crow….”

The special operations officer of the Quad Gear, marked by the crimson hand.

Moreover, one of the most notorious criminals in the nearby planetary system, a Class 2 wanted fugitive, Liberto.

…The man who had killed him stood before them.