Academy’s Undercover Professor-Chapter 256: Headmaster Gord (1)

By the time Ludger finished dealing with the War Mage, the situation had already come to an end.

Now, the tables had turned—the captured prisoners were gathered in the middle of the wide square, and the former mining slaves were aiming gun barrels at them, radiating murderous intent.

As soon as Ludger appeared, the slaves bowed their heads in gratitude.

They all knew full well that everything had been possible thanks to him.

Some even held feelings of reverence beyond simple gratitude—word had quickly spread that Ludger himself had taken care of the War Mage.

Had the War Mage remained, the rebellion would surely have failed.

Therefore, everyone present owed their lives to Ludger.

But the real question was—how did the press find out?

“Brother. What will you do now?”

Ludger realized this was Hans’ doing but chose to ignore it.

“This place is cleared. Once we collapse the mine shaft, no one will be able to extract rare metals from here again.”

“What about these guys?”

Hans gestured toward the prisoners.

They were already beaten black and blue, bruises covering them. Upon hearing Hans’ question, they quickly raised their heads, trying to speak to Ludger.

“Mmff! Mmm!”

But with gags in their mouths, only rough groans emerged.

Ludger looked down at them with a cold gaze.

“Even if we let them live, would they really go on to live decent lives outside?”

“No way. Just being here means they were likely considered irredeemable by society.”

These were people who had enslaved others underground and armed themselves with guns.

From the start, they were engaged in illegal, shameful activities.

“But still, they should be given a choice.”

Saying so, Ludger turned his gaze to the surrounding slaves.

“You were the ones wronged. Handle them as you see fit.”

The “choice” Ludger offered was not for the prisoners.

It was for those who had suffered—those who had endured years of humiliation and pain.

Ludger turned his back.

No sooner had the two of them left than countless gunshots rang out behind them.

* * *

The Delica Kingdom was thrown into turmoil.

Beastkin—claiming to have been enslaved—rushed in and filed reports en masse.

If it had only been a few, the kingdom might have brushed it off as a scam targeting travelers.

But the problem was the sheer number—hundreds.

The bodies of the beastkin, unwashed and haggard, bore clear marks of abuse and overwork. That alone served as undeniable evidence.

The atmosphere in the Delica Kingdom had already been tense, and reporters, hungry for a scoop, didn’t miss this opportunity.

Slavery had been abolished over a hundred years ago, following the colonial wars.

Yet now, hundreds of beastkin had been enslaved and forced to labor in mines. The news spread like wildfire.

Delica’s government, flustered, publicly announced that it would conduct a full-scale investigation.

Ludger read the front-page article that covered the scandal in bold, then folded the paper neatly and set it aside.

There was already a pile of other newspapers from various outlets reporting the same story.

“Just as you ordered, I fed the intel to every paper I could find.”

“Well done. This should throw the higher-ups into chaos.”

With the slaves having escaped and the existence of the underground mine exposed, Delica wouldn’t dare make a move against them.

“Do you think the freed slaves will be okay?”

“They’ll be fine. No one’s dumb enough to try to eliminate them now, not when the whole world is watching.”

In fact, those in power would likely go out of their way to treat them well, just to prove they weren’t to blame.

“Wasn’t the whole kingdom rotten?”

“Though this operation may have had national backing, that doesn’t mean all of Delica was involved.”

“But some high-ranking officials clearly were.”

“Exactly. There was a War Mage on-site. Someone in the military must’ve secretly orchestrated this.”

“If the military’s involved, then it must be at least someone of general rank.”

“And such a general wouldn’t act alone. They must’ve been backed by corporations or nobles with deep pockets.”

The two continued piecing together the information as they talked.

Nearby, Seridan, who had been fiddling with some machinery, suddenly threw up both arms.

“All done!”

What Seridan had made was a gauntlet that could be worn on the forearm.

Instead of metal, she had used leather to make it more comfortable—but that wasn’t the important part.

Protruding from the wrist of the gauntlet was a wire launcher that could fire a grappling hook.

“Just like you said, my lord! With this design, there’s no need to pull anything out separately—it’s perfect!”

Seridan handed the gauntlet to Ludger.

Without a word, Ludger accepted it and examined it with admiration.

‘I only tossed out the idea, just in case it might be doable...’

Thinking something would be nice to have and actually making it were two completely different things.

But Seridan must have drawn inspiration from his words—after leaving the mine, she’d neither eaten nor bathed, devoting herself solely to its creation.

And remarkably, she’d succeeded in building exactly what Ludger had described.

He strapped the gauntlet onto his forearm and aimed it at the ceiling.

They were in an abandoned factory—no one came here. The grappling hook fired and latched onto the factory’s steel beams with a clank.

He pulled the wire to test its tension. It could definitely support the weight of one person.

“To think she could really make this...”

Ludger thought.

Seridan’s inventing skills were truly extraordinary.

No, beyond extraordinary—they bordered on unnatural.

“It makes me proud to hear you say that! I’m dead tired, so I’ll be sleeping now!”

Seridan barely finished her sentence before collapsing on the floor and falling asleep, limbs splayed.

She even snored like a cat.

Hans watched her with a look of disapproval.

“Making bombs on the spot, building bizarre gadgets in a flash... and now clinging to you even when everyone else is running for it. That dwarf is seriously strange.”

“And you’re in no position to talk—you grow fur and fangs when a dog bites you.”

“Aw, c’mon, boss. That’s my constitution. Hers is a personality issue. Not the same thing at all.”

“Let’s call it even, then.”

“Ugh. So unfair I could scream. Anyway, boss. What’s our next move? You got a plan?”

“I do.”

Ludger opened another newspaper.

It also covered the beastkin slave incident—but something else caught the eye even more.

Casey Selmore’s report denouncing James Moriarty for his crimes.

Hans glanced at it from the side and muttered with concern. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

“...You all right? Boss, you’re officially a wanted criminal in this country now.”

“Which is why we’re hiding in an abandoned factory.”

But the infamy of James Moriarty hadn’t spread as widely as expected.

This incident had been so massive that it overshadowed the rest.

Still, it wasn’t like Ludger could stroll around in broad daylight.

Hans picked up another paper and read a related article, then let out a long sigh.

[The Vicious Criminal: The Hidden Face of James Moriarty.]

He immediately crumpled the newspaper and threw it on the floor.

“Damn it. No matter how I think about it, this is wrong.”

“Hans.”

“Think about it! They experimented on kids, enslaved beastkin—and those bastards are the ones who did it! Why are you the one getting blamed?!”

If anything, Ludger was a hero who exposed their crimes.

He saved the enslaved beastkin, destroyed the labs.

But public rumor had painted James Moriarty in a completely different light.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, boss.”

If anything, Ludger was the victim.

He couldn’t even protect a child he treated like his own.

He was just a single, solitary victim.

“Hans. Just like you said, I could have stayed a victim.”

Ludger had that choice.

He could have claimed he was just a victim. That the real villains were others.

“But if I chose that path—do you think the ones who orchestrated all this would ever pay the price?”

“...I suppose not.”

“They’d hide. Cut ties. Pretend they had nothing to do with it.”

Ludger had seen it all before.

History had always proven it.

“Hans. Sometimes, just appealing to others isn’t enough.”

People might sympathize when they hear your plea.

They might mourn the victims’ pain and rage at the villains.

But what happens after that?

Eventually, people forget.

And the true culprits go on, living well, never held accountable.

The sorrow of the victims is eternal.

And cries for justice are no more than fleeting gusts of wind.

“Someone has to be willing to dirty their hands and act.”

There was no intention to listen to the voices of the grieving.

Nodding in sympathy at the victims' words was nothing more than a hollow gesture—a superficial comfort.

“That’s your definition of justice, boss? Throwing yourself away for the sake of others?”

“Hans. This isn’t about justice. And it’s not self-sacrifice either.”

Even if he was cursed, ridiculed.

Even if the filth of the world splattered onto him.

It was simply—

That he couldn’t turn a blind eye to the evil before his eyes.

That was all.

“At the very least, doing so might serve as some consolation to those who’ve died.”

“Boss, you sound like you regret your choices.”

“Regret?”

At Hans’ pointed remark, Ludger gave a self-deprecating smile.

“I always regret things. From the moment I was born into this world. Every single action I’ve taken.”

“......”

“But do I even have the right to dwell on what I failed to save?”

Perhaps he had become too rusted to mourn such things.

Even his tears had dried up. Even his laughter was gone.

“Why go that far?”

“You ask why?”

There was only one reason he didn’t look away from the truth and chose to act with his own hands.

“Because I live in this world.”

* * *

Nightfall.

Despite the late hour, the lights in the headmaster’s office at Ordo University remained on.

Headmaster Gord Himbel rubbed his weary eyes as he pored over books and research papers.

There had been plenty of loud scandals lately, but as a scholar, he had little to do with them.

Surely, everything would quiet down again with time.

Clatter!

Suddenly, the office window flung wide open.

Even though there was no storm outside, a fierce gust of wind blew in, scattering papers across the room.

Gord Himbel’s eyes widened.

Someone stood at the open window.

“Wh-Who are you?”

His voice trembled as he spoke.

The figure was cloaked in darkness, blending into the shadows of the night, their identity concealed.

All that could be discerned was a black cloak and a crow-shaped mask.

From beneath the mask, crimson eyes gleamed ominously.

“Headmaster Gord Himbel.”

The voice was unaltered, unmodulated—causing Gord’s eyes to widen even further.

“That voice... Professor James Moriarty?”

Gord couldn’t understand what was happening.

Why was James Moriarty here?

More importantly, how had the man, now a fugitive, managed to appear in this very office?

Steadying his breath, Gord forced himself to remain composed and faced the visitor with a calmer gaze.

“...Since you’ve come this far, I won’t turn you away.”

At that, Ludger stepped down from the window frame and entered the office.

With complete ease, he walked in and dropped into a seat on one of the couches.

Gord Himbel swallowed hard.

“I’ve heard the rumors about you.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“...Haven’t they been all over the papers? That Professor James Moriarty orchestrated heinous crimes from behind the scenes.”

“Do you believe that, Headmaster?”

At that question, Gord fell silent.

Then, regaining his composure, he slowly shook his head.

“I don’t know. But the man I’ve seen until now... you were...”

“Yes?”

“You were a truly excellent professor. A brilliant scholar. No one at Ordo University would deny that.”

And yet now, that same man was being called a criminal.

It was difficult for Gord to wrap his head around it.

“Are you confused?”

“To be honest... yes. And I find it strange. Why have you come to see me, all of a sudden?”

“You were the one who helped me get a position at Ordo University.”

“...Yes, I did. Though I never imagined you’d be this kind of person.”

“That’s not your fault, Headmaster. I was simply... too exceptional.”

Gord stared at him warily, uncertain what this man intended.

“Headmaster Gord. Aren’t you curious?”

“...About what?”

“Why I did what I did. And why I came to see you.”

Still seated on the couch, Ludger interlocked his fingers and looked directly at Gord.

“So I’ll give you a chance.”

“A chance? What kind of chance?”

“Ask me any question. I’ll answer it.”

“That’s all?”

“There’s a condition, of course. For every question you ask me, I’ll ask you one in return. And you must answer truthfully as well.”

“A mutual Q&A, is it.”

“Yes. Think of it less as a chance, more as a game. You get the first question, Headmaster.”

Gord inhaled slowly, then asked Ludger:

“What on earth happened? Why would a brilliant professor like you suddenly become entangled in crime?”

“There was an unfortunate incident. I had nothing to do with it at first, but I ended up getting dragged into the mud.”

“That’s your answer? Can you be more specific?”

“I discovered a laboratory. One used for human experimentation. They were kidnapping children to harvest their souls.”

Gord’s eyes shot wide open.

“Good heavens. They were doing something that twisted?”

“I witnessed it. And when I tried to expose the lab’s secrets, the blame was shifted onto me. That’s how I ended up like this.”

Gord fell silent.

He seemed to be weighing whether or not to believe what he’d just heard.

“Headmaster. It’s [N O V E L I G H T] my turn to ask a question now.”

“...Go ahead. What do you want to know?”

From behind the mask, Ludger stared directly into Gord’s eyes and asked:

“Headmaster. Why did you do it?”