I Possessed a Broken Academy Instructor

chapter 93



Chapter 93

KWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!

The sight of that immense blade embedding itself in the ground was nothing less than a reckoning.

Truly, the earth trembled.

The ground split apart, and the aftermath sent air swirling chaotically, debris flying in all directions.

“Grrrgh!”

“Get down!”

In the wake of the thunderous roar, a thick cloud of dust enveloped the area, a chaotic mess of dirt and despair.

Jin Crow pinned the Queen down and promptly lost consciousness.

It was only natural.

No matter how much of a hammer he played, the existence of a queen was beyond the comprehension of most.

“Get the instructor stabilized!”

“Y-Yes, understood!”

Ideale bit her lip hard, shouting to the soldiers.

Yet her body moved toward the front lines.

The battle was far from over.

Though her heart yearned to rush forward, she had to hold back the creatures surging from behind.

However, when they reached the very center of the maelstrom, what lay before them was not just the bodies of Jin Crow and the Queen.

“…Uh, a child?”

“It’s a girl, isn’t it?”

The Queen’s body was a sight of utter devastation.

Her form was shattered, and Jin Crow lay atop her, half-submerged in a pool of blood.

Yet, standing right beside him was a strange girl, struggling to pull Jin Crow’s head from the crimson puddle.

“Who are you?”

“…Step back.”

At first, the soldiers were merely bewildered by the girl’s presence, but soon their expressions turned wary, as they noted how she bore a resemblance to Stero Mer.

“Do not let your guard down.”

Just moments ago, the Stero Mer, which had soared through the skies delivering despair, was no larger than a child.

To put it bluntly, if that were the true Queen emerging from her shell, and if she were to erode Jin Crow in some way, a calamity would surely unfold.

“Jin Crow becoming the enemy?”

Considering the sheer force he had displayed alone, it was a thought too dreadful to even entertain.

Perhaps that was why.

The soldiers, each with faces taut with rising tension, surrounded the girl and Jin Crow, while Baek Hwi-young and Dokgo Ran, who had followed, narrowed their brows, realizing that the situation had taken a turn for the worse.

“That child is…”

Only Baek Hwi-young, gazing at the girl with golden hair fluttering in the wind, seemed to sense something, his ashen pupils flickering with insight. But just then.

“Ugh.”

Feeling the full weight of their enemy’s malice and vigilance, the girl who had pulled Jin Crow from the filthy mire glanced around for a moment, then lightly scratched her cheek before speaking to the fallen Jin Crow.

“Papa, wake up. Are you hurt?”

“…Papa?”

It was a day when yet another misunderstanding arose unbeknownst to Jin Crow.

*

“The tragic news from the Free Planet Alliance.”

Or perhaps, a calamity.

It spread through the galaxy with a speed that rendered the vastness of space insignificant, becoming a hot potato that captured the attention of all media.

Aurum Planet, Lemal Planet, Atlacolony…

For those who had no prior interest, it was hard to tell whether these were imperial territories or synthetic nation realms.

But Mercato was different.

It was well-known enough to be proudly listed as the only existing neutral capital in the textbooks of both the Empire and the Synthetic Nations.

Thus, the tragic news from Mercato could not help but send shockwaves of a different magnitude.

“Some may wonder.”

The catastrophic scale of damage caused by creatures was not a first, so why was this incident receiving such attention?

The officially tallied death toll had already surpassed six billion, and if one included the injured, it would easily exceed ten billion.

Estimated property damage? Calculating it was a daunting thought.

Yet, why did the entrenched powers of various nations continue to procrastinate in their response to the creatures, while citizens and soldiers alike regarded the situation with cynicism, sometimes even with a dismissive eye?

“It’s a simple truth.”

For most, it was a matter that bore no relation to their own lives.

And in this galaxy, the lives of ten billion are far too common.

During the Third Galactic War, the governor, eager to be seen at the center, indulged in corruption and tyranny.

Truly, a harsh reign ensued, resulting in a coup supported overwhelmingly by the natives, who slaughtered them all and sparked a rebellion against the Synth Empire.

It was indeed a colossal uprising.

Other colonial planets responded, and four governors of the Synth Empire lost their lives.

And at that moment, the toll on the Synth Empire and its colonies would surely exceed ten billion. It could be even more.

‘After all, it is a nation of fifteen trillion in population.’

Calculating only the officially tallied figures yields that much, and if we include illegal immigrants, colonists, and those overstaying their visas, it might approach twenty trillion.

For the vast majority, the loss of a few planets would hardly resonate.

Unless they were from the same planetary system or nearby.

If the technology for hyperspace jumps had never been invented, empathizing with the misfortune of those who lived in such overwhelming distances—perhaps for a lifetime, or even for generations—would be nearly impossible.

‘Let’s think about it simply.’

There’s no need to go far.

Would a person living their daily life in South Korea tremble in fear and call for military buildup because dozens of people were killed by lions on the opposite side of the Earth, in Africa?

If they did, they would surely be mad.

It’s the same context.

Unfortunately, the creature is just like a lion.

We know it to be fierce and brutal, yet it remains a distant cause of misfortune that we will never witness firsthand.

“[Breaking News] Countdown to the fall of Mercato… Will the paradise of the materialists crumble?”

“Imperial Parliament spokesperson… ‘We will never abandon our citizens.’ Concerns over armed conflict!”

“Synth Empire Federal Government spokesperson… ‘We will strive for humanitarian aid.’”

But with this incident, everything has turned upside down.

To speak coldly, the planets that had fallen to the creature until now lacked impact.

For those who had seen photos or videos, it was enough to instill fear and a visceral sense of disgust or dread, but that was all.

It was merely gossip.

But Mercato is different.

It cannot be brushed aside so easily.

The Free Planet Alliance serves as a bridge and buffer zone between the Empire and the Synth Empire, projecting an economic influence so immense that it is hard to compare even with all the planets sacrificed thus far.

Yet, Mercato has fallen.

Nearly half of its sectors have crumbled, and the headquarters of the Mercato Corporation, a landmark in its own right, has become a grotesque mass entangled in horrific flesh.

Is that all?

The void’s crack closed with the death of the King and Queen, yet the surviving creatures scattered across the planet, destined to become a persistent headache for ages to come.

“[Breaking News] Estimated casualties in Mercato: approximately 2.9 billion! Where were the Empire and the Synth States?”

Even the citizens of the Empire and the Synth States were caught in the turmoil.

Analyses sporadically emerged, declaring that Mercato had effectively descended into anarchy.

Naturally, the Empire and the Synth States had no choice but to scream and throw all their efforts into managing the aftermath.

Though they were enemies, they had long recognized each other, and their economies were already intertwined.

Mercato had served as a neutral bridge for that trade.

But now, all of it had come to a halt, and as soon as the stock markets of the Synth States and the Empire opened, they began to plummet into the abyss.

“Ugh, aaah!”

“No! Heave-ho! Heave-ho!”

“Heave-ho or whatever, I think I’m screwed.”

Calls flooded into the stock offices of various nations, and dozens of small to mid-sized brokerages collapsed under the pressure.

Perhaps the majority of citizens feared the economic fallout more than the creatures’ attacks; this upheaval was no small matter.

Yet the rulers faced the truth with clarity.

‘Creatures.’

‘This is not a threat to be taken lightly.’

‘…I’m already exhausted from fighting those mad feudalists, and now I have to deal with beasts too. What a spectacle.’

All hypotheses regarding the creatures were tossed into the trash, and support for Professor Lee Soo-jong only grew stronger.

After secretly reviewing the footage from Mercato provided by the Ministry of Defense, Lee Soo-jong, cigarette in mouth and brow furrowed, turned to a woman who was diligently recording something.

“I need to go on a business trip.”

“Where to?”

At her response, devoid of the usual android seams, Lee Soo-jong extinguished his half-burnt cigarette in the ashtray and donned a brown coat and fedora.

“Central Special Officer Academy.”

Even as he spoke, his gaze remained fixed on the screen, where he was intently watching a man.

‘Instructor Jin Crow. I must meet him at least once.’

What he was observing was none other than Jin Crow, with his pale face, ending the life of the Queen.

*

“Holy Galactic Empire”

A feudal state ruled by an emperor in an absolute monarchy.

Some may scoff at them, declaring them “neither sacred nor a territory of the galaxy, nor an empire,” yet they remain a colossal empire that divides the Synthesized States and the stars.

An estimated population of around 20 trillion.

When one adds the subjects of the territories they have claimed as protectorates, scholars suggest it surpasses 30 trillion—what more needs to be said?

Questions arise.

With such an overwhelming population, why can they not punish the Synthesized States?

The answer is simple.

—The empire is fractured.

In the capital star, Essentia.

She walked through the imperial halls, her face taut with anxiety.

Occasionally, those she passed recognized her and offered their respects, but she paid them no mind, hastening her steps.

There was little time left before the imperial council commenced.

If she were to meet the Emperor, it had to be now.

How long had she traversed the marble floors and golden columns of the palace? Soon, she neared her destination—the Emperor’s office—and the Holy Guard, having recognized her, silently stood at attention and opened the door.

Others might not even dare to imagine it, but she was different.

She was the sword that protected the empire, a bloodline of the royal family. Doubt itself was treason.

Click, click—.

As she entered the office, the sound of parchment rustling filled the air, and she knelt on one knee, bowing her head, speaking in a voice that was not loud but heavy with gravity.

“I, the Fourth Commander of the Holy Guard, humbly present myself before Your Majesty.”

“……What is it?”

The Emperor’s voice lacked vitality, and though she felt a pang of sorrow at this, she had no choice but to convey the grim tidings she had just received.

“It is a message from Mercato. The operation has failed. It is suspected that there was interference from Rosen.”

“Rosen. Rosen, you say.”

The Emperor set down the documents he had been reading, soon placing a thick, rolled cigar made of blue leaves between his lips, murmuring as if in deep contemplation.

“What is the basis for that judgment?”

“……The information sent by the Thirteenth Nation was succinct.”

She gazed at the Emperor through the haze of smoke that swirled like a mirage, relaying the words of the empire’s most formidable shadow, the Thirteenth Nation.

“The evidence of Rosen’s involvement is clear. They have deployed the ‘Hound.’”

Hound.

Upon hearing that name, the Emperor’s expression shifted.

Crack—.

I accidentally let the cigarette slip from my fingers.


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