I Become a Secret Police Officer of The Imperial Academy

Chapter 17

As expected, they were suspicious of me.

Considering the traces of magic left around the mansion, signs of outsiders entering, and the mud that had been smeared all over the staircase the other day, even a child could tell someone was investigating this place.

So, who could it be that suspects me?

Ethel didn’t seem like she had told anyone about her experiences.

Theo wouldn’t have sat idly by if he had heard those stories—he’s not that kind of person.

Isabel?

Maybe. It’s possible she found my frequent disappearances in the mornings, even while still attending the academy, suspicious.

With her holy power and some knowledge of magic, she might’ve been the one who investigated the mansion.

Or perhaps it was one of the few noble families still capable of maintaining their influence, who had previously had a lengthy discussion with us.

Honestly, that seemed like the most reasonable explanation.

Except, of course, for the fact that this world has a “protagonist.”

A villain who seeks to massacre abused demons—what a perfect one-time episode plotline.

No matter who it was, I had to muddle through and keep my secrets hidden.

What I was doing.

How I was wringing out every ounce of this family’s power to carry out such an unproductive task.

It wasn’t normal to bring in stray demons or those considered private property on such a large scale and forcibly subdue them.

The idiotic emperor had decreed that demons should be dealt with appropriately, punishing those who did wrong.

Dragging them all here, putting magic seals on their necks, and killing the disobedient ones—while not technically disobedience to the emperor’s words—could easily be seen as overstepping my bounds.

In a case this big, even with my esteemed parents gone, it wouldn’t be impossible, though difficult, to topple my brother, who had just seized power.

These thoughts lingered as I bid farewell to the children.

Ethel stepped forward from Theo’s side, standing in front of me again, while Theo and Isabel, slightly startled, waved goodbye.

“Ellen, can I stay the night?”

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll give up and leave. What else could I do?”

“Come in. You seem to have a lot to talk about.”

I led Ethel to the guest room and then went to the bathroom to wash up.

Was it because I’d done so much today? My body felt heavy and sluggish.

At first, the showerhead only spouted hot water, but after a while, it balanced into a comfortable temperature.

By the way, would Ethel even know how to use this?

Well, she’ll figure it out.

I called a passing servant and told them to bring tea to the guest room in case Ethel got thirsty while we talked. Then, I headed back.

After quickly washing up, drying my hair, and changing into a simple gown, I went to the room I’d assigned to Ethel and knocked.

She opened the door with a slightly stiff expression.

As I stepped inside, I heard the sound of running water.

“Did you leave the faucet on in the bathroom?”

At my question, Ethel’s tense face turned a little red.

“I didn’t know how to turn it off…”

I walked into the bathroom and turned off the faucet. Dragging a chair to the center of the room, I sat down and propped my legs on the table.

“So, what made you want to stay the night? I can’t imagine our talk in the parlor was pleasant enough to relive.”

“…It still haunts me when I try to sleep.”

That was a rather troubling answer. It wasn’t something I could smile about.

“Judging by Theo’s demeanor, you didn’t tell him about it. Why not?”

“If I did, do you think Theo would’ve let you off the hook?”

No, he wouldn’t have.

But that would’ve been it.

“He might’ve tried to do something, but it wouldn’t have worked. He wouldn’t even be able to force a tough conversation with me.”

Unless he put a blade to my throat, I wouldn’t stop.

“In the end, nothing would be resolved.”

As I pondered what to say next, someone knocked on the door.

A servant brought in a tea set with ice floating in the tea. I took it from them and resumed my conversation with Ethel.

“Where were we?”

I took a sip of the tea and frowned. It was horribly bitter and astringent.

The servant who usually made tea this bad must’ve died.

They’d probably poured boiling water straight in and left it steeping too long.

“Oh, right. Even if Theo knew, nothing would get resolved.”

“That’s why… I thought I’d try begging you instead.”

“Begging me? That’s unexpected. I thought you’d resort to threats.”

I had imagined her clinging to Theo, crying about how difficult it was in the underground, shedding tears to sway him.

He’s altruistic enough to save a halfwit getting mugged on the street.

“Threats? You’re the one who threatened me, Ellen. Don’t you remember?”

“Threatened? All we had were trivial conversations.”

Ethel bit her lip and stared at me.

Well, I could at least listen to her story—as long as it wasn’t too troublesome.

“Just so you know, I can’t help with anything too problematic.”

“The kids. Just tell me where they are, what happened to them.”

“What kids?”

“The ones you took with my parents. You know who I mean.”

“Oh, those?”

Ethel ground her teeth audibly.

“I don’t care if you call them beasts or demons. But to me, they were childhood friends—kids I played with before I even entered the academy.

And that couple you said you killed? They were people who welcomed me into their home and shared meals with me.”

The bitterness of the tea mirrored the weight of the story.

“Are they alive? Or are they dead?

To you, it might just be a grim story, but to me—and to the Rosenberg family—they were like family.”

Perhaps to the Rosenbergs, they were people—neighbors who were truly close.

Considering how non-authoritarian and approachable the Rosenberg family was, it wouldn’t be surprising.

Then what does that make my actions?

What does it mean for everything I’ve done up until now?

And what about what happened to me and my family?

Instinctively, warnings flashed in my head.

Don’t even think about entertaining such foolish thoughts.

“E-Ellen…?”

When I didn’t respond for a long time, Ethel called my name hesitantly.

Grasping my trembling lips with my left hand, I bit down hard.

The sharp pain of my canines digging into my lips, and the warm trickle of blood down my chin, brought me back to focus.

“Who cares.”

Living with pets that mimicked humans perfectly—what a lovely little story that would make.

But how would I know what happens to a dog after it bites a person?

I slammed the teacup I was holding against the table.

The cup shattered, shards scattering everywhere, and the vile tea spilled all over my clothes.

“Kyah!”

At least the scent was pleasant. I could pretend it was perfume.

Clenching a piece of the broken cup in my right hand, I squeezed it tightly.

As the pain registered, the trembling in my lips and the corner of my eyes began to subside, replaced by a sense of clarity.

“Ethel, when you throw trash into the garbage bin, do you bother remembering where it goes?”

Trash goes to the incinerator, or maybe it’s locked away in a cage somewhere underground. Who cares where it ends up?

“Ellen, wait—your hand is…”

“They’re probably still alive for now.”

Even as I released my grip, the shards of glass clung stubbornly to my hand, embedded too deeply. 

The trembling in my lips had stopped, so I used my left hand to pull out the pieces stuck in my right.

“You’re bleeding! Let me—let me heal it—”

“Shut up!”

As I yanked the glass free, sticky sounds accompanied the drops of blood falling to the floor. Ethel gulped and instinctively stepped closer to me.

Pathetic insects, all of them.

Even now, Ethel cared more about whether I was hurt than whether they were alive or dead.

Yet I couldn’t suppress a flicker of anger.

I wasn’t even sure why I was so mad.

Still, I smeared the blood on my hand across Ethel’s face.

“Go wash this off in the shower. Oh, and while you’re at it, figure out how to turn off the water you left running earlier.”

My gaze fell to the floor. Glass shards were strewn across the room.

Leaving a guest in such a messy space wouldn’t do, so my petty act of revenge was already a failure.

I went to the bathroom, dampened a towel, and handed it to her.

When she didn’t take it, I wiped her face myself.

Finally, she pushed the towel away and spoke. Her face, now clean of blood, returned to its usual pretty appearance.

This habit of lashing out physically when I’m angry… I really needed to fix it.

“This isn’t the time for this!” she shouted.

If she meant I should rush down to the basement to look for those vermin she mistook for family, then yes, this was precisely the time for it.

Wiping the blood off her face took precedence over their survival.

“Want to take a fresh shower instead? The family just made a new batch of soap—it lathers really…”

“This isn’t the time to be saying stuff like that! Look at your hand—it’s injured!”

“Oh, right. The room’s a mess. I’ll send someone to clean it up and change the room for you.”

“You need treatment first—”

“It’s nothing serious—AAAGH!”

I slammed my fist onto the desk, shouting in frustration.

Ethel stared at me, her eyes wide with confusion, disbelief, and perhaps even a hint of fear.

Maybe she thought I was insane.

I hoped she did.

“Ethel, I’ll never understand you. Not because I can’t, but because I won’t.”

She didn’t respond.

“Get some rest. I’ll send someone to wake you for breakfast tomorrow. Enjoy your meal before you leave.”

I quickly left the room, closing the door behind me.

Then, I slumped down in front of it.

As I placed my hands on the floor to steady myself, the sharp pain in my palm surged again.

My vision blurred on one side, and for a moment, the world seemed to spin.

A nosebleed started.

I felt dizzy.

It hurt.

“Damn it.”

I muttered softly to myself.