Chapter 778
It became known among the students that Simon had stepped down, not of his own will.
And this anger, burst forth from the very start of the joint opening ceremony.
Especially, when the third-year professors rose from their seats to offer greetings.
Woooooo–!
Boos erupted.
It was the first time that boos were directed at Professor Keyzen during an official event.
The third-year professors, who had been basking in victory, stretching their legs after raising Ballack to the position of president, froze stiff, unable to manage their expressions, while the professor acting as MC broke into a sweat trying to calm the heated students.
—Be quiet! Quiet!
Even after the troublesome and contentious opening ceremony ended, the anger continued.
Especially when Arthur, the Mercenary King, who was widely popular and well-respected among his peers, gathered his classmates.
“This is tyranny, and I call it thuggery!”
The first-year dormitory lounge swarmed with students. Arthur clenched his fist.
“Everyone knows what kind of person Senior Simon is, how much he did for us first-years! Are we just going to stay silent?”
The other first-years responded all at once. Let’s hold placards and protest. We should organize a demonstration. Amidst the buzzing voices being exchanged,
“That’s easy for you to say, since you’re Special Admission No. 2.”
A short-haired male student, slouched in his seat, tossed the words.
Everyone’s eyes turned toward him.
“It’s sad what happened to Senior Simon, but for us first-years, survival comes first. By the end of this semester, half of the people here will have to go home. Do we really have the luxury to go protest?”
At those words, some first-years fell into silence.
“Better to spend the time reading one more line of the textbook....”
“If you make excuses like that, it’ll never end.”
At that moment, a first-year girl stood up.
Heidi Ferris.
The very freshman Simon had saved during the entrance ceremony.
“As first-years, we can’t, because we have to survive. As second-years, we can’t, because we have to raise our ranks. As third-years, we can’t, because we have to find jobs. Then when are we supposed to step forward?”
“No, that’s not what I meant......!”
“First-years are always excluded from everything that happens on campus. We’re too busy surviving to raise our voices. I still don’t know why our year couldn’t participate in the Dark Emperor. If we don’t want to suffer unfairness like now, with Senior Simon being forced down, then we need to raise our voices too.”
She spread her arms.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re top-ranked or bottom-ranked. As current Keyzen students, we’re simply asserting our rightful claims!”
“That’s right!”
“Of course!”
The first-years resolved to rise up.
From the very first day of the new semester, ominous war clouds began to hang over the school.
* * *
That afternoon.
Student city, Rochest.
“Greetings, fellow students! This is Tae from the Newspaper Club!”
Tae, head of the Newspaper Club, raised both arms and shouted energetically.
In front of him stood a group of students holding either recorders with memorial crystals installed, or notebooks and memo pads.
They were all members of the Newspaper Club.
“I hope you all had a good vacation! For this coverage, my friend and vice-president of the Newspaper Club, Zilverberg, is with me!”
“Yup.”
A man peeked into the camera for a brief greeting, then stepped aside, out of frame again.
“I’m currently here in the student city, Rochest!”
The camera panned past Tae, showing the scenery.
Buildings of all sizes rose around the large square fountain at the center. Rochest, with the new semester beginning, was crowded with students buying textbooks, stationery, and various supplies for class.
Bustling voices and lively laughter filled the air.
Hoooh—ha!
As if savoring the vibrant atmosphere, Tae took a deep breath and spoke again.
“Yesterday and today, the school’s been turned upside down! The Student Council President has suddenly changed! From second-year Simon Follentia, to third-year Ballack! Let’s hear what our fellow Keyzen students think about this!”
As his gaze swept around, he spotted a blonde third-year girl fixing her makeup on a bench, and rushed over.
“Excuse me! May we have a quick interview......! Oh my, you’re a third-year!”
Tae and Zilverberg immediately bowed deeply. The other members also lowered their heads for a moment, making the camera bob up and down.
“What is it.”
The third-year, annoyed at being interrupted, frowned. When Zilverberg discreetly pointed at the camera with the memorial crystal, she cleared her throat, and then answered in a clear, ringing voice.
“Fine, go ahead.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, senior!”
At Tae’s urgent gestures, Zilverberg rushed over and carefully handed her the amplification crystal.
“What do you think about the recent issue of the Student Council President changing?”
“Ah, it was only natural. This should have happened sooner.”
The third-year girl with the amplification crystal shrugged her shoulders.
“Student Council President should be chosen based on performance and ability, right? Of course Ballack should be president. I’d say our school is finally back on a normal track.”
“But among underclassmen, many are unhappy with this! Some believe the departure of the former president was an act of tyranny. Any comments?”
“Crazy. No matter how much the professors coddle them, this year’s first-years are really......!”
She took a moment to spew out curses.
Zilverberg tactfully switched the memorial crystal off, then back on.
“Anyway, since Aizel left, his substitute should leave too. A more outstanding person becoming president is natural. How long are we supposed to keep being dragged around by that Phantasus guy? He left school ages ago.”
“Thank you for your words!”
Tae quickly moved on to find the next subject.
He needed to include opinions from as many grades as possible in the paper.
“Any first-years around?”
“First-years will definitely be against it.”
“That one looks good.”
A girl wearing thick round glasses appeared.
Her hair was braided into two long twists, her face full of freckles. At first glance, she looked like the typical model student who cared only for studying.
“Excuse me, junior!”
Tae and the others swarmed around her. As they suddenly pushed a camera in her face, she blushed and flustered, bowing her head.
“Ah, h-hello.......”
“We’re from the Newspaper Club. Could we ask you for a short interview?”
“Ah, would that be alright? Um, I’ve never done anything like an interview before.......”
“Just answer comfortably in your own words. Okay?”
Receiving the amplification crystal politely from Zilverberg, she looked at Tae with a frozen face.
“Relax, relax. Here comes the question! What do you think about the recent issue of the Student Council President changing?”
In that instant.
The dazed-looking first-year girl’s eyes suddenly lit up. She shot to her feet and shouted.
“It was absolutely unjust! A most unfair decision!”
Oh no, wrong pick.
Thinking that, Tae broke into a nervous sweat.
“Uh, why do you think so.......”
“Unless the former president had done something wrong, which he hadn’t! Senior Simon led both the student council and the school well, even amidst the sudden vacancy of the presidency! But now, for the third-year faculty and adults to interfere, and put their favored choice in as president? That’s trampling on everyone’s hearts! The Student Council President should be the representative of us students!”
The first-year launched into a long, impassioned speech.
As Zilverberg gestured desperately to cut it short, Tae snapped back to his senses.
“But junior, some say that Senior Ballack is more talented than Student Simon Follentia, so this was only a natural change.......”
“That’s their way of thinking.”
The first-year girl ground her teeth.
“What students truly want in a president is not someone with high grades, not someone useful for outside events, not someone obedient to adults. It’s someone who can represent student interests, and move for the students! Just like Senior Simon Follentia, who risked his life to save our classmates at the entrance ceremony!”
She glared at the camera.
“On the other hand, I don’t know what Ballack has ever done for the school. Ability, of course it’s important. But those with great ability already enjoy plenty of merit and benefits, by becoming department reps in the Top10 or earning scholarships.”
“Ah, I see! That’s enough, thank you for the interview!”
“I’m not finished yet! Saying that a second-year can’t be president is prejudice! And saying that it must always be a third-year is narrow-minded......!”
Barely tearing themselves away from the fiery first-year, Tae and the Newspaper Club continued to interview passersby.
Opinions split completely by grade.
Third-years mostly supported Ballack’s presidency, calling it a return to normalcy.
But first-years who liked Simon were furious, and one after another cried that it was unjust. Like people living only for today, they said anything in the interviews, regardless of consequences.
Compared to the first-years, the second-years, busy with department life, seemed a little more cautious, more hesitant to speak, yet overall, they too appeared dissatisfied with the matter.
“Damn it, there’s too much here we can’t use.”
Tae frowned as he flipped through the notebook filled with interview notes.
The truth was, during Simon’s student council, the Newspaper Club had been one of the major victims of the club budget reforms, and so they supported the new Ballack council.
Of course, someone from Ballack’s side had even approached them, offering to raise their second-semester budget if they would write favorable articles.
“Tae, the interviews with the ‘Sihilmo’ kids are ready.”
Zilverberg came up to report. Tae, who had been scowling as he skimmed the notes, finally cracked a smile.
“As expected of my vice-president! You’re too good at your job, that’s the problem.”
Sihilmo. Short for “the group of people who hate Simon”, a name the Newspaper Club had made up. They had investigated students who were thought to hold grudges against Simon and arranged interviews with them.
The Newspaper Club even prepared compensation, offering them “paid interviews”. Since it had been hard to secure their time, Tae headed to the meeting place with anticipation.
—Then let’s begin!
Without further ado, they started the interviews with the students selected by the Newspaper Club.
The first subject, Raheim Northfold, second-year, Lord of Snowfield Castle.
A special-admission student last year, famous for being smitten with Maelyn of the Ivory Tower. He had challenged Simon during the first-year BMAT exam over Maelyn, only to be utterly crushed.
Since he’d lost the girl he liked, they expected bitter, emotional words.
—What do I think? Ah, I sure hate Joomon Volendis, but, having the student council changed from above like that, nah, that’s not right.
—……Who’s Joomon Volendis? It’s Simon Follentia.
—Yeah! Jemon Volento, whatever!
This guy was hopeless.
They moved immediately to the second subject, Jessica Kananor.
Jessica had suffered a humiliating defeat to Simon during the first-year duel evaluation. In the recent duel evaluation, she had even pulled out a “chemical factory” but was once again completely defeated by Simon.
Accordingly, they expected jealous, biting remarks.
—It was wrong. They should’ve settled it with a duel at the opening ceremony. Forcibly pulling Simon Follentia down is bound to stir trouble. Ah, but, has Simon ever said anything about me?
She brushed her hair back, cheeks flushed. Rather than resentment, it seemed she’d developed a soft spot for Simon after their recent duel. Hopeless.
Straight to the third.
“White.”
Second-year in Summonology.
A transfer student from Moyran, one of the three great necromancer schools. Rumor had it that Simon was wary of him, and the two had often clashed.
However—
—.......
—Uh, we asked what you think?
—.......
White just stared blankly at the birds flying in the sky.
Unable to communicate, the interview was a failure.
“We’re screwed.”
Tae slumped against a wall in the streets of Rochest.
They needed to write an article that would support Ballack’s student council, but aside from the third-years, the first- and second-years offered almost no supportive opinions.
Vice-president Zilverberg spoke.
“I didn’t expect public opinion toward Simon Follentia to be this favorable.”
Clicking his tongue, Tae replied,
“He was never one for scandals, and his image was always good. Now, he’s even gained a powerful enemy in Ballack. The unfortunate figure who had no choice but to step down under faculty tyranny. Sympathy works in his favor. People tend to over-identify with the losing side.”
But even in such a difficult situation, wasn’t it the journalist’s duty to squeeze out an article to suit the customer’s taste?
Tae looked into his notebook.
“No helping it. We’ll use the third-year interviews as they are, and for the first- and second-years, we’ll write ‘anonymous students strongly requesting anonymity’, then fill in supportive opinions for Ballack’s council ourselves....”
“Uh, over there.”
Zilverberg pointed forward.
“Isn’t that Hector?”
“What?”
Tae’s head snapped up.
The very core of “Sihilmo”. From the very first day, the rival and nemesis of Simon Follentia, constantly clashing and fighting.
Hector Moore, second-year, representative of Summonology.
They had sent several letters requesting interviews, but never received a reply. A big shot.
“Everyone, follow me!”
With the Newspaper Club members in tow, Tae rushed toward Hector. Hector, apparently in Rochest to buy supplies, was walking with his entourage.
“Hector! Wait a second!”
Tae called out, but Hector ignored him. Desperate, Tae dashed ahead and blocked his path.
“I’m Tae from the Newspaper Club! Two minutes! Just two minutes, that’s all! Give us a moment!”
Zilverberg followed with the camera, and the rest of the members swarmed around. Hector’s expression twisted into a deadly scowl.
“Get lost.”
He turned to take a side street.
“Simon Follentia!”
Hector stopped in his tracks.
A smile spread over Tae’s lips, having caught his attention.
“Simon Follentia stepped down as president, and Senior Ballack has taken the seat! Don’t you have anything to say about this?”
“.......”
“Rumor has it you accepted the second-year representative position to keep Simon in check when he became president. Don’t you think this situation—ugh!”
The Newspaper Club gasped in shock.
Hector had suddenly spun and grabbed Tae by the throat.
“You worm.”
With one hand, he lifted Tae into the air.
“What are you, to dare speak to me?”
“Gahh! Kkhh!”
One of Hector’s pupils had already shifted into a dragon’s slit.
“W-wait! Khhh! I can’t breathe......!”
Hector swung Tae up and hurled him into a nearby stall. Crash! The stall collapsed, sauces and sugar splattering over Tae’s face and uniform.
“Tae-senior!”
“What the hell......!”
Hector swung his arm. Tsspak! Dragon scales shot out like shuriken, embedding themselves into the memorial crystal lodged in the magic camera.
He then made a pulling motion, and the crystal tore free, landing in his hand.
“I’ve no time to waste on trash scribbling worthless articles.”
Crunch!
With just his grip, he crushed the memorial crystal. Sparks of mana fizzed and a smoky haze spilled out.
“See me again, and I’ll kill you for real.”
Unwittingly, a wave of Dragon Fear seeped out, sending the first-year members stumbling back with pale faces.
Clicking his tongue, Hector tossed a bundle of money to the stall owner, then turned and walked off.
“Let’s go.”
His faction followed, laughing.
“You gotta know when to quit. They picked the worst time to bother him.”
“Newspaper Club, don’t get cocky. We’re watching.”
As Hector’s group departed, Tae, covered in sticky sauce, crawled out from the wreckage.
“......Haa, tch.”
Feeling wretched, he sighed deeply and muttered under his breath.
“You should’ve been happy your rival fell, so why the hell are you taking it out on me.”
* * *
Murmur murmur!
Outside was unusually noisy. Simon, seated in a small cafe in Rochest, looked out the window.
“Something happening?”
“Not sure.”
Sipping elegantly at a strawberry drink, a black-haired girl opened her eyes, smiling brightly.
“Did you spend your vacation well, Simon?”
Just a few meters away, the two of them were having a quiet conversation.
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