I Possessed a Broken Academy Instructor

Chapter 58

“Failed, did you?”

“Yes. Miller claims the traitor has been dealt with, but it seems she found a skilled mercenary.”

The man in the suit stammered excuses, desperately trying to mask his incompetence, but for Lucky Anubis, the word ‘failure’ echoed relentlessly in his mind.

“Useless fools.”

“I’m sorry.”

“…Enough. Get out.”

Instead of the towering skyscrapers, Lucky Anubis’s cold voice resonated within the vast, nostalgic study of an old mansion, steeped in memories of the past.

The Caporegime, who reported the situation, retreated cautiously, wary of any backlash, and in doing so, his actions proved quite wise.

—aaahhh!

No sooner had he closed the door than a sound of shattering echoed, followed by Lucky Anubis’s furious roar.

‘Ignorant fool.’

Though he cursed inwardly, he could never betray Lucky Anubis.

What he had been given was too sweet, and no matter how he thought about it, Tita Genolua seemed to have no chance of winning.

It wasn’t that he overestimated Lucky Anubis.

What he believed in was the decision made by Stero Mer, who led the committee commonly referred to as the Owner’s Meeting.

“If that person has raised Lucky’s hand, then of course I must stay here. The real problem was that the Godfather had a falling out with that person in the first place.”

He shook off the lingering anxiety and guilt within him and quickly moved away from the increasingly loud shouts behind him.

“Gah, gah—.”

Meanwhile, in the study, Lucky Anubis, having half-tipped over the desk, gasped for breath as he walked to the wall and poured himself a glass of whiskey on display, slamming it down his throat.

A bottle worth at least a thousand dollars, but right now, he desperately needed something to calm the boiling rage within him more than any amount of money.

Yet, even downing that drink, one that others could hardly imagine, he found no relief from this wretched discomfort.

“Tita Genolua. That fool….”

All she had was the surname Genolua.

Yet, she had instantly secured the position of consigliere.

He had devoted his entire life to the family and had not gained it, while the Godfather, who always treated him like a son, was now planning to hand the family over to that brat.

Inferiority, defeat, jealousy.

To say he felt none would be a lie.

“I tried to endure.”

He believed that was the last courtesy owed to a benefactor.

His reflection in the mirror showed a face in disarray.

The pomaded hair had long since come undone, and his eyes were bloodshot, looking anything but presentable.

But what mattered now was not his appearance.

“Not yet, not yet can it be salvaged.”

Even if he knew something, it was still a game that ended once Tita Genolua was captured, wasn’t it?

The murder company. Those butchers could not move.

They must not move. They were always neutral.

In frustration, he shook his head, then roughly sank into the sofa that had belonged to the old man until recently.

He gazed intently at the photo of the former Godfather, still not put away for the sake of legitimacy, and murmured.

“…It is lonely. Were you ever like this?”

Did he not realize that even those who followed him merely sought the power and money before their eyes?

Yet, he faced the truth.

Sterro Mer.

What that wretched creature had prepared with a lifetime of scheming, and how it was already too late to stop it.

Trembling fingertips anxiously traced the contours of a face.

Then, soon, they absorbed the contents of the document that had come to him, only to close his eyes in resignation.

“…There’s not much time left. Please.”

It was a voice quaking with fear.

*

Leaving behind the antics of Tita Genolua, Jin Crow made his way directly to the hotel.

He worried about the possibility of an ambush along the way, but what mattered now was the awakening agent he had left behind at the hotel, far more than the risk of an attack.

“Did you pack everything?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

After gathering his belongings, Tita Genolua gripped the steering wheel with a voice that had grown cold, swiftly veering into the outskirts.

‘…Was I too much?’

Jin Crow was not entirely oblivious.

Was he so blind that he couldn’t see her interest in him?

Of course, the pace of it all had been alarmingly fast, but then again, foreign lands were known for their openness.

He gazed out at the juxtaposition of the dazzling city and the slums reflected in the window, mulling it over.

‘It would be a lie to say she lacks charm.’

Perhaps it was the world of a novel.

Or maybe, with the advancement of science, genetics had simply become superior.

Finding a woman among those he encountered who was less than attractive was a challenge, and being a man, he occasionally found his gaze wandering.

Yet, a heavier weight pressed down upon his shoulders.

‘Bai Huiying not fully accepting Miel’s heart must be all because of this.’

There were no grand ideals, no vows to lead a clean life.

He had already taken lives—more than a few.

But one thing was certain.

He had no time to waste on trivial matters like romance or love.

This wasn’t merely about Tita Genolua.

It was an unfortunate reality, but what could be done?

Still, having already dipped his toes into this murky water, he needed to ease the awkward tension, if only to obtain the money and information he had yet to receive.

“Do not misunderstand.”

“…….”

“It’s not that you lack charm. And, you’re still young…”

“Old fogey.”

“……I’m not an old fogey. You’re just too young to understand.”

“Just smoke a cigarette or pour yourself a drink. Don’t annoy me.”

“Alright then.”

Jin Crow silently took a cigarette, not feeling the need to add anything more.

Deep down, he sensed that something was going awry, even as he spoke.

How long did that silence stretch on?

She passed the road marked 19th District and halted the car at a shabby factory site, lighting a cigarette before stepping out.

“……How much?”

Her voice had turned even more dry, stripped of the emotions she had previously shown, now thoroughly rational. Thanks to that, Jin Crow could respond without hesitation.

“Money is as you can spare. But there’s some information I’d like you to look into.”

“……Was it 400 million dollars I received?”

She seemed to ponder for a moment, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel before finally speaking.

“600 million dollars. That’s the limit of what I can give you right now. And about the information… you’ve been talking about it since earlier, what exactly do you want to know?”

He hesitated at her question.

Could he really tell her?

In that brief moment, there was no way a deep bond or trust could have formed.

If he wanted to leave, he could have done so from the start.

No matter how powerful the mafia claimed to be, could they really retaliate if he returned to the Synthesized Nation?

‘But…’

In the original story, it was Lucky Anubis who led the Zenolua family.

Naturally, the name Tita Zenolua was nowhere to be found.

However, Baek Hwi-young’s journey to the Free Planet Alliance was years away, and by then, the Zenolua family would surely have declined to the point of being effectively ousted from the committee.

‘Perhaps, this is an opportunity to mix in a useful card for the committee.’

When he first heard the dying words of the Zenolua family mafia in the alley, it was a possibility; when he heard Tita Zenolua’s proposal, it became certainty.

……The Synthesized Nation alone cannot stop the Creatures.

It was a cold assessment, neither lacking in confidence nor unnecessarily pessimistic.

‘A war that does not end with just a planet or two.’

The moment the higher beasts appear, and the lord-class beings reach beyond the void, calamity shall begin.

To prepare for that time, I believed without doubt that it was right to do everything possible.

“That’s for later. Don’t ask until it’s all over.”

“…So be it.”

Jin Crow left her with a sliver of space as he stepped out of the car, and Tita Zenolua nodded, as if she had expected this, before following suit.

The factory was eerily quiet.

No matter how one looked at it, it bore the appearance of a place long abandoned by human footsteps, yet Tita Zenolua paid it no mind. She covered the car with a cloth and led him down the back stairs that connected to the wall.

“Ugh.”

Then, she cleared away the thick layer of dust from a desk and a cabinet, naturally staining her black suit with gray dust.

Just as he was about to question her actions, Jin Crow understood why she had come to this factory upon seeing the revealed wardrobe.

“…Is hiding behind a wardrobe in vogue?”

“Hmm?”

“No.”

Inside the cleverly concealed furniture was an old wardrobe that looked as if it hadn’t been touched in ages, and when she opened it, a metallic door, seemingly made of carbine alloy, revealed itself.

She turned to respond to Jin Crow’s muttering but shrugged it off, opening the door with her fingerprint.

Whirring—

The door opened as if it had been waiting, and she stepped inside, saying, “Come in.”

“Won’t the door be revealed if we enter like this?”

“Ah.”

Tita Zenolua chuckled softly, grasped his wrist, and pulled him inside. Once they were in the corridor, she pressed a protruding button on one wall.

Whirring—

Then, the furniture that had seemed haphazardly moved slowly returned to its place, and instead of water, dust sprayed from the sprinklers on the ceiling.

“Ha.”

“Could it be that they weren’t prepared for even this much?”

Tita Zenolua murmured, gazing at Jin Crow’s black eyes, which looked at her in disbelief, and walked deeper into the corridor.

However, her steps gradually slowed.

She brushed off the dust from her shoulders, and the calmness she had maintained until now began to fade.

Perhaps it was because of the atmosphere she sensed.

Tita Genolua spoke softly, instead of looking at him.

“From now on, do not mistake my condescension for disrespect. We have our own rules, you see.”

The lightness she had shown until now vanished, her smile—once lingering at the corners of her mouth—erased as she moved forward.

At last, after traversing a corridor not too long, she reached what seemed to be the factory’s underground, grasping the doorknob as she spoke.

“Welcome. You have arrived at the true Genolua family.”

Creeeak, the door swung open.

Instantly, the voices that had been faintly echoing within fell silent, and the scene that met her eyes was striking.

“Greetings, Consigliere.”

“Greetings, Consigliere.”

In a rather sparsely decorated room stood dozens of men and women in suits, bowing their heads in unison, offering their respects.

“…Grrk. Cough! Hack.”

Alongside them, a man hung upside down, blood trickling from his body.

And there, calmly seated, was a man who handed her a revolver, speaking with a steady voice.

“Your betrayal cost Lorenzo and Paul their lives. Michele.”

“W-wait… I had no choice… Cons… Consigliere… please…”

Michele, appearing as if he had endured unspeakable torment, pleaded for mercy with trembling eyes, stammering out his excuses.

But what rang out in that moment was not the whisper of merciful forgiveness.

Click—

As the barrel was aimed, a chill brushed against his heart.

“Blood is washed away with blood.”

She murmured expressionlessly, pulling the trigger.

Bang!

A sharp gunshot echoed, and the man, who had been writhing in agony, slumped down, reduced to a mere hunk of flesh.

“Well then, shall we discuss business? Just as you wished, Jin.”

With blood splattered and under the dim light, she turned her head, her face devoid of emotion as she murmured.

*

And at that moment.

“We have arrived!”

“…I’m tired.”

“Miel, I heard there’s a department store nearby.”

“Yeah. Let’s go. Kanae.”

Baek Hwi-young glanced at his unnecessarily cheerful friends, forcing himself to endure the throbbing headache that gnawed at his temples.

‘…It’s fine. Since we’re here, I might as well look for the nectar too.’