I Became The Academy’s Narrow-Eyes - Chapter 93: A Fateful Encounter

Face Theft.

It was the specialty and secret technique of ‘Entangled Hair Munye,’ a direct master under Harashin.

It was the art of disguise.

A very unique kind of disguise.

Under ‘specific conditions,’ Munye could mimic the appearance of the desired target nearly perfectly.

Last night.

Munye had attacked Daltasian, a high-ranking adventurer.

Satisfying the specific conditions, she now possessed the appearance of Daltasian.

It was to hijack his social status.

Daltasian was currently a figure of respect within Arienne.

His social standing would be of great assistance for the mission Munye was tasked with by Harashin.

A person with power.

A person with wealth.

A person of high status.

This was in search of ‘a life of high value’ as spoken by The Right Arm, dedicated to The Eight Finger.

To begin her mission, Munye first headed to the adventurer’s guild building in District 3.

‘I should start by killing them first.’

According to Munye’s research, Daltasian was the perfect subject for her disguise technique.

He had no family, and he worked alone without comrades.

However, there had been a hitch in the plan as he had participated in a recent mission and made new companions.

While Munye’s disguising technique was perfect in physical appearance, it could not completely mimic the inner essence of the target.

If Daltasian’s colleagues, who had a deep mental rapport with him, noticed it would pose a significant problem.

To preemptively eliminate such risks, Munye decided to make Bolton and Elysia, Daltasian’s comrades, her first sacrifice.

“Ah! Le! Eh! Ack! Oo!-”

Just before entering the adventurer’s guild building in District 3.

Munye stepped into an alley and looked into a mirror, making strange noises.

She manipulated her facial expressions as if modeling clay.

Recalling the expressions and voice of Daltasian since her attack on him the night before.

Eventually.

The reflection in the mirror was no longer Munye with a resemblance to Daltasian.

It was Daltasian himself.

‘Perfect.’

Satisfied with her work, ‘Daltasian’ smiled and entered the adventurer’s guild building.

“Huh!? Daltasian!?”

“Hey, you!?”

The bald man and the woman wearing a hood, recognizing Munye as Daltasian, rushed over.

“Where on earth did you go without saying anything!?”

“Hey, dude! Do you know how worried Elysia was for you!?”

‘Daltasian’ took in the faces of his colleagues.

Their expressions.

Their voices.

Their actions.

The emotions within.

Clearly, they were emotions borne out of genuine belief that he was the real Daltasian.

‘Ah…’

Munye internally writhed with pleasure.

Stealing someone’s life and having her skill affirmed was a moment she cherished.

She loved this moment so much that it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she lived for it alone.

‘I wonder what faces you’ll make when Daltasian’s heart gets pierced.’

Barely suppressing the urge to overhear a hot sigh, Munye opened her mouth.

“Sorry, there were circumstances I couldn’t speak of.”

There was a gruff yet at the same time an awkwardly embarrassed apology in his voice.

“Really…”

“Ha, damn it. Talking about circumstances you can’t speak of.”

The two had no doubts that this was Daltasian’s voice.

Munye was bathed in their satisfying response when suddenly.

‘Huh…?’

A dopey-looking man with squinted eyes smiled at her as if grinning foolishly.

‘…!?’

Munye’s body twitched.

‘What’s this…?’

For a moment, she felt like this foolish-looking guy saw through her real appearance.

‘Surely not.’

It must be a misperception.

Her disguising technique couldn’t be seen through by such a nobody.

With that conclusion, Munye withdrew her attention from the man.

***

“Quite regrettable…”

“Ha… This damned Daltasian, what the hell is all this…”

Elysia and Bolton were drenched in sweat apologizing for the commotion caused by Daltasian’s disappearance.

“Seriously, the trouble you cause…”

“This damned thing—I should worry about you again, just wait.”

Their faces were twisted in dissatisfaction, but even so, joy and relief that couldn’t be fully hidden were present.

It was clear how genuinely they treated Daltasian.

“…”

Grinning slightly.

Sensing this clearly, Munye began to restrain her words and actions.

The depth of their emotions toward Daltasian.

Considering this, she deduced that they were likely to sense a discord in her act and become suspicious.

‘I’ll have to kill them today without delay.’

As Munye made her decision and began to ponder on the method, it was at that moment.

“Ah, right! Daltasian. You know who came looking for you?”

Elysia, like a parent preparing a surprise gift for her child, broke the news.

“That person! That person!”

“That person?”

“The one we were talking about yesterday! He told me he has a commission for you!”

***

Ceylon approached Daltasian, and Mago clicked his tongue.

“Hey.”

Mago called Ceylon to a stop.

Knowing that Ceylon was a commoner, he no longer used formal speech or fawned over him.

However, his attitude carried a sincere respect that had not been present before.

“If things go south, come to me. I’m confident I can do better than Daltasian, that jerk.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mago.”

“…”

Mulling over those words, Mago nodded several times before departing.

Ceylon watched as he walked away.

‘Mago…?’

It sounded like a name he had heard somewhere before – he couldn’t quite recall.

‘Well, whatever.’

That wasn’t what he needed to focus on now.

His attention was required elsewhere.

Ceylon moved towards Elysia and Bolton, and ‘it’.

***

The story he heard surprised Daltasian.

‘This guy, the one- who outranked the monster Lebringer at the academy’s swordsmanship entrance exam and took the top spot?’

This dopey and dim-looking guy?

It was unimaginable even to a sage or a paragon without a trace of prejudice in dealing with people.

Regardless—

‘Such luck.’

Munye cheered internally.

The squint-eyed, dopey man before her had built an incredible standing by outperforming noble and highborn families with his commoner status at the academy’s entrance exams.

Moreover, being a commoner, he probably did not have a strong backing and was likely marginalized within the academy’s noble society.

What this meant.

For Munye, it was an irresistibly attractive ‘face theft’ target.

Munye considered stealing Daltasian’s face a lucky event.

But Daltasian’s face was nothing compared to that of the squint-eyed, dopey man.

By stealing the man’s face, she could easily infiltrate the academy.

And, by using the entrance exam topper’s status, easily come into contact with lives of high value.

‘I should be able to finish this damned job quickly and return.’

Munye did not believe in The Eight Finger, however, she was pleased at the prospect of offering quality sacrifices.

By offering quality sacrifices to The Eight Finger, surely The Eight Finger, The Right Arm he serves, would be satisfied.

And in return, a corresponding reward shall be granted.

“So, as I was saying—”

At that moment, the squint-eyed dopey man—Ceylon began to speak.

“Mr. Daltasian. As I have mentioned, I have a request I would like to entrust to Mr. Daltasian and your colleagues. May we discuss it?”

“Is there even a question about it!? Right, Daltasian!?”

Elysia exclaimed with excitement.

Munye reacted with a pleased smile as if charmed by her cuteness.

“That’s right, Ceylon. We usually go to this tavern. Let’s head there right now and talk—”

“Excuse me—”

Ceylon politely interrupted Elysia, who was eagerly advancing the conversation.

“Eh? Oh! My apologies. I got too carried away, didn’t I?”

“Why are you so excited? Calm down.”

Bolton chuckled bitterly as he tried to calm Elysia down.

“What are we going to do if Mr. Ceylon feels burdened, huh?”

Bolton too appeared quite excited.

“Oh dear, Mr. Ceylon. I apologize for our rude colleague.”

“What? Rude? And you treated Ceylon like a child just earlier!”

“I didn’t know it’s him! Would I have done that if I knew?”

“It’s quite a boast.”

Ceylon wore a somewhat bitter smile watching them.

“I’m sorry to say, but I would prefer to discuss this matter alone with Mr. Daltasian. Is that alright?”

“Eh? Oh, yes. I’m fine with it.”

“Bolton, are you alright with it?”

“Bolton…?”

“Pff.”

“Ah, did I say something wrong—”

“No, no. Well. Yeah. If Mr. Ceylon calls you Bolton, then let it be Bolton. Yeah, I’m fine with it. Hey—Daltasian. You’re obviously fine with it, right?”

Was that supposed to be a conversation?

Watching the turn of events, Munye wondered.

Should things be going this smoothly?

She had been racking her brain about how to seize the opportunity to steal the face of this dopey-eyed man with those two fools in tow, and here they were offering her the chance.

‘Maybe, The Eight Finger is truly watching over me.’

Munye took this moment of grace to reflect on her forced faith adopted for the sake of learning assassination techniques.

***

Soon after.

Munye followed Ceylon out of the Adventurer’s Guild to find a suitable place for their discussion.

The venue they arrived at was—

An inn in ‘The Back Alleys’ of District 2.

By now, Munye could only feel affection for this squint-eyed, dopey man.

He voluntarily walked into such a secluded place on his own.

To Munye, Ceylon now seemed like a pig that had willingly cooked itself and laid down as a sacrifice.

‘What a pity. Truly a pity.’

Munye wanted to repay this admirable fellow for his kindness.

She wanted to grant him a painless death.

But that was impossible due to the nature of the ‘face theft.’

All Munye could do was hope that this pathetic creature’s own ‘The Eight Finger’ would take him in well.

Following Ceylon through the tavern on the first floor, Munye entered a guest room on the second floor.

Sitting across Ceylon with a desk between them.

‘Well then—’

Perhaps it was time to begin.

That was the moment Munye thought to herself.

“Before we start, may I ask you one thing?”

Munye nodded willingly.

Since she couldn’t grant this naive and foolish person a comfortable death, the least she could do was dispel any of his doubts before dying.

‘Ah.’

But upon further thought, even that seemed difficult.

Of course, it would be since.

‘The question this guy is asking is directed at Daltasian—’

“What did you do to Daltasian?”

…

…

…

“What?”

Munye, forgetting she was impersonating Daltasian, slid back into her original expression and voice as she replied.

“I’m asking what you did with Daltasian, whom you are currently impersonating.”

“… I have no clue what you are talking about.”

Munye decided to feign ignorance for the moment.

Her cover being blown by him? It didn’t matter.

Whether or not the fool knew her identity, she could just kill him, and that would be the end of it.

But then.

That this fool, unbeknownst to himself, had noticed her true identity.

That he had seen through her face theft.

That was unacceptable.

For someone not associated with Daltasian to have identified Munye’s face theft meant that they had recognized a flaw in the technique itself, not just in her performance.

That’s why Munye insisted.

She acted.

Pretending to be Daltasian.

“Is this some sort of joke of yours?”

Munye spoke with Daltasian’s characteristic blunt yet playful tone.

Then Ceylon smiled faintly.

“A joke is what you are playing right now, isn’t it? Since you plan to keep on joking, shall we begin by taking that off?”

“What are you—”

That was the moment.

[Dispeller of the False]

Even Munye, a master directly under Harashin, proficient in the mysteries of ‘Negation,’ experienced a type of negation she had never encountered before.

That negation obliterated the ‘face theft’ Munye had on.

The false form of Daltasian Munye was portraying began to crumble.

-Pluck

Munye’s true face was revealed.

Sections of flesh that had been attached to Munye’s face lost their adhesion and dropped onto the table.

“Ha…”

Ceylon let out a somber sigh as he looked at what fell onto the table.

It was a mask.

Ceylon could easily guess what the material of that mask was.

“What, what is this! What have you done to me!”

Now it was Munye sitting there, not Daltasian anymore.

Munye, with a physique like a child’s, making it seem as though no clothing or mask could conceal it, and an indistinguishable face that made it hard to tell if Munye was male or female, adult or child.

Pieces of the ‘clothing’ Munye wore until moments ago were scattered around the room.

Startled by the breakdown of her face theft, Munye shouted out.

At the same time, she released her full might.

A master with the prowess of seven stars—realm of the heroes.

Munye, as a direct master of Harashin with the nickname ‘Entangled Hair,’ summoned numerous spikes of negation aimed at Ceylon.

The moment they would have surged forward, it happened.

“Ah.”

Munye’s body tilted.

As if the wall she had been pushing against with all her might had suddenly crumbled.

The mana making up Munye’s assassination techniques dispersed so futilely, a phenomenon she had never before experienced in her life.

It was an overwhelming force of the unknown.

“You, what are you—…!”

Munye trembled with fear.

The squint-eyed man was no longer present.

Instead, Ceylon, now with his eyes wide open and the golden sharp irises that had been hidden behind his eyelids exposed, said.

“I am the true Harashin—…”

He seemed to speak with a heavy tone but then let out a sigh filled with self-disgust.

“What’s the use of all this now… None of it matters. Tell me. What have you done with Daltasian.”

***

“Ah…”

In a chamber within a mansion located in District 3, Ceylon arrived at the location Munye had mentioned and soon found Daltasian.

Fortunately.

He was alive.

No. Could that even be rightfully considered alive?

He was in a forcibly preserved state.

It was for the sake of enhancing the quality of her performance that Munye did this.

Currently, Daltasian was not allowed to see, to walk, or to touch.

The only things that were permitted to him were to speak and to listen.

Just those two things.

Sensing Ceylon’s presence, Daltasian’s body trembled and he began to repeat the same phrase over and over again.

In the face of his terror, Ceylon reached into his embrace and drew out a necklace, placing it around Daltasian’s neck.

And he asked:

Are you sincere?

Then he uttered words that meant the complete opposite of what he was repeating just moments ago.

***

It was cold.

His body bare, his spirit utterly crushed, within the darkness where nothing could be seen, the steely gaze of death appeared vividly.

All of it brought about an intensely bitter cold like none he had ever experienced in life.

But then.

Suddenly, warmth returned.

The moment a necklace was placed around his neck, his thoroughly crushed spirit seemed to knit back together.

Warmth was once again draped over his stripped body.

The specter of death that had been staring him down from a sniffing distance now turned its back and receded.

And then light came.

Light returned.

“Uh…”

Daltasian looked at his own body in the light he had regained.

The warmth he had been deprived of was once again returning to his body.

Daltasian moved his hands to feel his face.

“What in the world…”

He lifted his head, looking dazed as if lost in a dreamlike stupor, and gazed forward.

From the eyes of the mask, darkness flowed out like smoke.

The robe he wore seemed to have been torn right from the darkness and draped upon him.

A towering stranger wearing an unusual mask stood there.

***

What should I say?

For starters.

I had succeeded in rescuing our dungeon guide.

In a double sense of the word.

But there was one problem.

The method I had employed to save him was dark magic.

‘Undead…?’

Suddenly, that negative word came to mind.

Undead.

The term used to describe beings resurrected by dark magic.

I had brought our dungeon guide back to life using dark magic.

So does that mean our guide has become undead?

‘No, that can’t be it. Undead?

I shook my head.

I recalled a debate that has raged on uninterruptedly since ancient times.

Where does the human soul reside?

Some argue that the human soul dwells within the heart.

Others assert that the soul resides in the brain.

‘But our dungeon guide, both were perfectly intact, weren’t they?’

To begin with.

It’s nothing more than gathering the parts that fell off the body and reattaching them.

Fundamentally, it’s not much different from medicine.

It’s utterly different from the unethical act of rudely waking our teachers resting in their graves to exploit them again.

Therefore.

Our dungeon guide is not undead.

‘Argument settled.’

It was then, as I was about to speak to the ‘human’ Daltasian.

“Oh God above…!”

‘What.’

Daltasian, the human, suddenly bent his head to me.