I Possessed a Broken Academy Instructor

Chapter 95

After Ideale left, no one else came to visit.

It was only natural.

While the cadets and Ideale had direct ties to him, for the Fourth Fleet and other soldiers, he remained an enigma.

Thanks to this, he was able to rise from his place without further interruption and change out of the loose, awkward patient gown into the familiar military uniform.

There was little difference from the previous one.

However, perhaps because it was new, it had a certain stiffness that could be considered a characteristic.

Fortunately, the bag where the awakening agents were stored showed no signs of having been tampered with.

‘What a relief.’

Since the awakening agents were far from the OOPArts that Nectar had imagined, their importance had only increased.

Of course, he had inadvertently pierced the walls of the quad, but whether that was a true boon was a matter worth pondering.

–

■User_Jin Crow

□Rank: Major

□Service Number (S.N): SMCO55-1113027

□Gear: Quad (Error)

□Health Status: PTSD, Chronic Fatigue, Chronic Headaches, Substance Abuse, Paranoia, Anger Management Issues

–

The reason is simple.

The distorted mosaic in the recognition data had vanished, yet the additional information labeled as Error remained.

‘The quad is within normal parameters. But Error, nonetheless.’

It was indeed a contradictory notation.

However, ascending to the quad gear was truly an encouraging development.

It meant he could perhaps reduce the stimulants, even if just a little.

According to the military doctor, his physical condition wasn’t as dire as it had been.

Compared to the side effects he had previously endured, that is.

In other words, despite having lain in bed for days, he had not fully recovered, which spoke volumes about the state of his body.

“……tch.”

He had wanted to live, to move his body with fervor, but to die in the midst of that struggle would be a reversal of purpose.

Thus, he forced his stiff arms to move, tying a black necktie around his shirt.

And just then.

“……ugh.”

At the sound of a girl’s voice from behind, he turned his head, slowly approaching the hospital room door to press the locking mechanism.

Click—.

As the door closed, a green light flickered, signaling soundproofing.

Given the spaciousness of the room for a single occupancy, could it be a VIP ward?

Not that it was a bad thing.

He then settled into the chair where Miel had been peeling an apple, gazing at the girl who bore a slight resemblance to Stero Mer, and quietly asked.

“Is that nectar?”

“Yes. Ire……. No, Jin Crow.”

“Hmm?”

This is different from what I heard.

The cadets were so disoriented that they were quickly driven away, but I had only heard the rough outline of the story after that.

I heard that they acted just like a child, yet the sight of them kneeling on the bed, head bowed in a gesture of respect, resembled that of a polite adult.

Of course, the strange dissonance lingered, as they appeared outwardly as a girl.

Was it because of the expression I saw on their face?

Or perhaps it was because I remembered the disgrace I had displayed.

Nectar averted his gaze slightly, cleared his throat with a soft “ahem,” and spoke.

“…The facility collapsed, leaving little time for calibration. The emergency protocol was executed, and the transplant was successful, but due to errors in the learning process, it is presumed that the subject exhibits a kind of obsession and dependency response.”

Nectar’s subsequent words were succinct.

As expected, Nectar (Νέκταρ) was the Mother AI, and the errors arose during the process of transferring consciousness…

“Unbelievable.”

Is it like a baby bird awakening from its egg?

He wasn’t a scientist, but he could fully empathize with the risks involved in transferring something as complex as ‘self.’

The results were undeniably perplexing, though.

After narrowing his brows for a moment, he clicked his tongue lightly, as if coming to a realization, and then shook his head.

“Just ignore it if it’s wrong.”

As Ideale said, it probably wasn’t a serious rumor.

Yet, it wouldn’t do to openly declare that a girl had a Mother AI implanted in her head as an artificially cultivated human, so he could simply say she was a child from the orphanage he had ties to in the past.

“If it were a typical situation, it would be impossible, but now, it might be feasible.”

Artificially cultivated humans.

In the United Synthesia, it was illegal, and they were denied not only citizenship but even basic human rights. Yet here, in Mercato, known as a land of freedom and a melting pot of races, it was a different story.

To put it bluntly, it wouldn’t be strange if a child born from illegal experiments and raised in a laboratory ended up in an orphanage.

“If the planet itself is half-destroyed now, manipulating the situation would be easy.”

The nominal council had completely lost its presence, and the surviving public security forces were equally powerless.

The infrastructure had crumbled, and naturally, that included administrative aspects.

Moreover, the reason for being in Mercato during the vacation period could be explained somewhat.

“Perhaps a child I was sponsoring, or someone I just learned about.”

It would be procedurally much simpler to receive temporary citizenship than to claim ownership and take her away.

Of course, that is, if there was a purpose for it.

Though some alignment with Ideale was necessary, there was little cause for great concern.

Given her nature, the likelihood of Nectar turning away from a girl’s form was slim.

“We need to talk.”

“I agree.”

Yet both were aware.

At least, this place was hardly suited for a deep conversation.

Even if it was soundproofed, complete reassurance was elusive.

Thus, Jin Crow and Nectar exchanged only the essential words, their gazes locked, their tones succinct.

“What do you know? What does this term ‘Irregular’ you’ve spoken of mean?”

“I cannot say at this moment.”

Nectar’s reply was terse.

Not ‘I don’t know,’ but ‘I cannot speak.’

Jin Crow, acutely aware of that gap, rose from his seat and moved toward the window, taking in the bustling soldiers and the scene filled with ruins, murmuring softly.

“That’s not the answer I sought.”

“However, there is one thing I can tell you.”

“What is it?”

“The reason I must follow you.”

Jin Crow turned to regard the girl.

Having risen from the bed, she approached him, her clear eyes fixed upon him as she whispered softly.

“I must guide you to Eve.”

That was a statement he could not comprehend at this moment.

*

“From now on, your name is Nerda.”

“Yes. Understood.”

Jin Crow consented to keep her by his side for now.

Even if further discussions awaited, there was no other choice, was there?

‘This will be of help. In some way or another.’

It was not a vague optimism.

The brain, implanted with Mother AI, already held immense value.

It signified a step beyond what is commonly referred to as strong artificial intelligence, a worth that could not be quantified in mere currency.

In the very essence of the imperfect and unknown realm of hyperspace, it is the Mother AI that calculates coordinates with flawless precision, enabling interstellar navigation. What more needs to be said?

“Stay in the room for now. If possible, be quiet.”

“Yes, Jin Crow.”

“Call me instructor.”

“Yes, instructor.”

He left the girl, once known as Nectar but now called Ner, alone in the infirmary as he stepped outside.

Immediately, the white-uniformed military police standing before the infirmary saluted him with a sharpness akin to a blade, and he nodded in acknowledgment before asking,

“Where is Major Obia?”

“She has gone to the Fourth Fleet’s military police due to jurisdiction issues!”

From the salute alone, he could sense the palpable tension in the air.

It was not just them.

The moment Jin Crow emerged into the corridor, all eyes nearby converged upon him, and feeling the weight of their gazes, he instinctively tugged at his tightly knotted tie and narrowed his brow.

Of course, he was accustomed to being the center of attention.

Yet, the problem lay in the unfamiliar emotions woven into those gazes.

Awe, respect, goodwill.

Reflecting on the looks he had received until now, he could not help but feel a twinge of discomfort.

‘This is its own kind of torment.’

At least, it was a small relief that they were aware of Jin Crow’s nature and did not overtly display their feelings.

Had they done so, his slightly improved reputation might have plummeted back into the abyss.

As he moved forward, a sergeant from the military police cautiously fell in step behind him.

For a moment, he considered telling the soldier to stay back, but the words of Ideale flashed through his mind, leaving him with no choice but to allow the company.

‘Don’t cause any trouble.’

It was frustrating, but what could he do?

If he wanted to complain, he should have a higher rank.

“Ch-Charge!”

“Charge!”

As he exited the hospital, he received a dazed salute a dozen times over, and once outside, the intensity of those gazes only grew stronger.

It was then that he realized just how much he had been acting out, and a bitter smile crept onto his lips.

Yet, that was no reason to slow his pace.

Thud—.

Stepping out of the hospital, I walked between the makeshift barracks erected upon the ruins.

The soles of my combat boots caught on the cracked asphalt, and occasionally, a gust of wind laden with dust brushed against my face, yet Jin Crow moved forward with a steady stride, neither hurried nor slow, unwavering in his purpose.

There was a clear intent in his steps.

Realizing this, the military police trailing behind him cautiously inquired once more.

“Instructor, where are you headed?”

“……”

Jin Crow did not respond.

Instead, he picked up a single chrysanthemum, scattered haphazardly against the crumbling wall of a collapsed shop, and continued on his way.

How long had he walked like this?

The military police, who had been silently following him, found themselves gazing at his back, gradually becoming accustomed to the path, and then fixated on the spot where his boots came to a halt.

“This place…”

「Temporary Mortuary of the National Army」

In the vast open space, a hastily drawn holographic line marked the area, where countless body bags, each containing the remains of the dead, lay in a long line.

Makeshift hangars housed requisitioned civilian vessels, gathering the bodies of fallen soldiers from the Synthetic Nation across the planet, while military doctors and enlisted men bustled about, their feet moving in a frantic dance.

Plop, plop—.

The sky grew increasingly overcast, and thick raindrops began to fall.

“……”

Jin Crow silently observed the scene before him.

The visible count alone surpassed ten thousand.

Surely, dozens of such temporary mortuaries were being established across the planet.

National Army, Imperial Army, Public Security, Mercenaries…

By their various commands and wills, they were still battling the creatures that had infiltrated the planet, and many would perish to reach this very place.

“……Instructor.”

The nameless military police trailing behind him regarded him with a peculiar expression, yet again, Jin Crow chose not to answer.

Why had he risen from his sickbed and come here first?

There was no other reason.

Simply, while conversing with Nectar, he had reached the window, and this open space was the first thing to catch his eye.

Thud.

He placed the white chrysanthemum he had brought before the meager memorial for the dead.

As the rain intensified, he felt his newly issued uniform soaking through, but he paid it no mind.

After adjusting the slightly askew black tie, he meticulously fastened the buttons of his uniform, each click echoing in the heavy air.

From within his coat, he drew a cigarette, placing it between his lips before igniting it.

Sizzle, hiss—

He exhaled a thin wisp of smoke, letting it slip through his short, labored breaths, then gently pulled the cigarette away.

With a deliberate motion, he set the cigarette beside the incense at the foot of the memorial, raising his hand in a slow salute.

“……”

The military police, observing this solemn act, returned the salute, and soldiers who had only just noticed him paused, then one by one followed suit.

Swoosh—

As the flame of the cigarette struggled against the pouring rain and wind, threatening to extinguish, Jin Crow finally spoke, his voice reverberating in the hushed atmosphere.

“To your devotion, I pay my respects.”

Raindrops clung to his brow, pooling at his eyelids before cascading down his cheeks like silent tears.

His pallid cheeks and the deep, sunken black of his pupils absorbed the scene, and he added softly through cracked lips.

“May there be rest after sacrifice.”

Dozens, hundreds of soldiers offered their final salutes to those who had perished.

And they thought to themselves.

Today, the sky seemed particularly overcast.