(Arin's POV)
My private laboratory in the back warehouse now smelled like a fireworks shop that had just burned to the ground.
The air in the narrow room felt dry, suffocating, and charged with static electricity that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up. On the workbench, whose surface was scorched in several spots, only the dim light of a magic lamp illuminated the chaos of experiments there. No large oxygen tanks taking up space, no complicated gas masks with dangling hoses, and no exorbitantly priced magic diving equipment.
There was only a row of small, marble-sized pellets glistening deep red, arranged neatly on a silver tray.
"Boyle's and Gay-Lussac's Law," I muttered softly, my voice sounding hoarse from inhaling too much sulfur smoke. My right hand, wrapped in a leather glove, picked up one of the pellets with iron tweezers. "If the gas volume is reduced extremely and the temperature is raised suddenly, then the pressure will spike toward infinity."
The inspiration from Erika's boiled egg exploding yesterday afternoon had truly opened my eyes wide. I realized I didn't need larger lungs to suck the thin air inside the Dungeon. I only needed a smart way to trigger an oxygen explosion from within myself.
I compressed Potassium Chlorate powder and mixed it with Manganese Dioxide catalyst and Breathweed root extract which had natural air-binding properties.
The key was in the coating shell.
Very carefully, I coated the volatile mixture with a layer of hard sugar mixed with Ironbark sap. This shell was specially designed with dual specifications: strong enough to withstand increasing internal pressure, yet brittle enough to crack instantly if exposed to the amylase enzyme in saliva and the pressure of a molar bite.
"This is not sweet candy for children," I analyzed coldly, staring at the red pellet under the lamp light. "This is a micro oxygen grenade."
The mechanism was simple yet brutal. When the shell broke inside the mouth, an exothermic chemical reaction or heat-producing reaction would occur instantly. That heat explosion would trigger the release of pure oxygen in massive compressed volume.
Because the mouth was tightly closed, the pressure would not explode outward, but force the oxygen gas to penetrate the oral mucosa, hit the throat walls, and perform forced diffusion directly into the carotid artery bloodstream heading to the brain and heart.
"Only one small problem remains," I whispered doubtfully to myself. "Is my esophagus strong enough to withstand that explosion?"
There was only one way to find out.
My fingers picked up one red capsule. The capsule felt warm at the fingertips, as if a fire were sleeping soundly inside, waiting to be awakened and burn everything.
I put it into my mouth with a quick movement.
The first second, it tasted sweet. The sugar layer began to melt slowly exposed to saliva. I positioned the pellet between the back right molars, finding the right biting position.
CRACK.
I bit down hard.
HISS-BOOM!
No explosion sound was heard outside, because the explosion happened muffled inside my skull cavity.
It felt like swallowing a small sun.
Searing heat exploded instantly in my oral cavity. High-pressure steam hit the roof of my mouth, forcing its way into the throat, nose, and pressing on my eardrums from the inside.
"GKKHH!"
I fell to my knees, clutching my own neck with both hands as if being strangled.
Pain! It truly hurt so much! My tongue felt scalded by boiling water. The gas pressure sought an exit wildly, forcing its way into the blood vessels in the neck which immediately bulged thick like steel cables carrying high-voltage electricity.
Piston Heart responded instantly to this surge of fuel.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
The sudden supply of pure oxygen flooding the blood made my heart beat with double the force of usual. No more tightness in the chest. No more urgent need to inhale. My lungs felt full, dense, and ready to explode with excess energy.
My vision sharpened instantly, catching every detail of dust in the air. The world became slow.
I opened my mouth slightly to release excess pressure before my eardrums burst permanently.
FSHHHHHH...
A sharp hissing sound was heard loudly. Thick white steam from the chemical combustion reaction sprayed out from between my teeth like smoke.
I stood up slowly, feeling overflowing energy in every muscle fiber.
Eyes stared at the cracked mirror in the corner of the room. My reflection there looked terrifying. My eyes glowed red due to drastically rising blood pressure, neck veins bulged purple, and every time I opened my mouth, white smoke billowed out.
"It hurts..." I hissed softly, hot steam coming out with my words, making my voice sound like a metallic monster. "But... very effective."
With this, Vesper could close all the vents in this world as he pleased, and I would still keep running after him.
(The Next Night - Third Floor Library Archive Room)
Fine dust floated under the dim oil lamp light. This old archive room was quiet, hidden safely behind forbidden history bookshelves never touched by ordinary students for decades. The smell of decaying paper and dried ink filled the air, creating a thick atmosphere of conspiracy.
The perfect place to plan a coup.
I sat at the end of a long table made of black Oak. My tongue still felt numb, and there were faint chemical burn marks at the corner of my lips. Every time I exhaled a long breath, thin steam was still slightly visible, a side effect of chemical residues not yet fully gone from my blood.
Around me sat my allies. A strange team, yet deadly if combined.
On my left, Erika sat restlessly in her chair. She kept playing with the tip of her new magic staff, tapping it on the floor gently. Her eyes glanced toward the bookshelf shadows warily, as if afraid a librarian ghost would appear and scold her.
"This place... scary..." whispered Erika, her delay acting up again. Even so, she was getting better.
On my right, Rose Carlos was cleaning her nails with the tip of a sharp dagger. She looked bored to death, her legs placed on the empty chair beside her in a position very impolite for a Marquis's daughter.
And at the opposite end of the table, sat Elena Rhyms. She wore a simple yet elegant dark blue evening gown, sitting upright with a thick noble aura. In her hand, she held a thick document containing the results of the private investigation she gathered all day.
In the middle of the table lay a crumpled napkin full of ink scribbles. The napkin given by Tom Garius to me at The Golden Swan restaurant.
"So," Rose broke the boring silence, stabbing her knife into the old wooden table with a loud thud. She pointed at the name circled in red ink on the napkin. "Our target is not Karl Benzzi the Ape, but this guard dog? Vesper?"
"Vesper is not a guard dog, Rose," corrected Elena coldly without lifting her face from her document. "He is the wallet. And a wallet is more important than a sword for people like Karl."
"Explain to me," asked Erika confusedly, finally stopping playing with her staff. "He is just a quiet student with glasses, right? I rarely see him speak in class. He looks... harmless. More like a bookworm."
I sighed a long breath. Thin white steam hissed out of my mouth, making Erika stare at me in horror and back away slightly.
"That is his mask, Erika. Tom told me everything," I explained, my voice slightly hoarse. "Vesper is the Shadow Treasurer of the Benzzi Faction. He is not a front-line fighter."
I leaned forward, looking at them one by one to ensure they understood how dangerous this person was.
"But he has something more dangerous in this Academy, namely Calculation Magic and absolute Control over Karl's Faction Logistics."
Elena nodded in agreement. She opened the document in her hand, then placed several sheets of paper containing complex numbers in the middle of the table.
"Arin is right. This is data obtained from my spies in the administration section," said Elena while pointing at the numbers. "Vesper manages three pillars of the underground economy in this academy that are untouchable by law."
Elena pointed to the first point on the paper.
"One: Illegal betting market. Every time there is a duel exam or tournament, Vesper is the bookie. He circulates the pocket money of young nobles, makes them addicted to gambling, then traps them with mounting debt."
"Two: Goods smuggling," continued Elena, her finger shifting to the next point. "Cigarettes, alcohol, unregistered stimulant potions, even forbidden artifacts. All items that cannot be obtained through official channels, Vesper provides through Lianne's network and black market traders."
"And three... Loan Shark," concluded Elena with a tone of thick disgust. "He gives high-interest loans to noble students bankrupt due to lavish lifestyles. Once they are trapped in debt, Vesper uses them as political slaves for Karl Benzzi. He holds their necks."
Rose clicked her tongue in annoyance, her expression turning disgusted. "So he finances all Karl's expensive toys? Magic scrolls, enchanted armor, and their lavish parties? No wonder Karl always has good stuff."
"Exactly," I answered while tapping the table with my index finger. "Karl Benzzi has military strength and influence, but Vesper is the heart pumping his blood. If we bring down Vesper, we cut off Karl's fund flow. Without money and logistics, Karl's troops in Class B will disperse because no one pays them."
"The problem is," interrupted Erika, looking at us doubtfully. "How? We cannot challenge him to a duel because he will surely refuse. He is the cowardly type who hides behind others."
"We beat him up in a quiet alley?" suggested Rose casually, twirling her knife again. "I can make him 'trip' down the stairs and break his neck. Accidents happen every day, right?"
"Cannot, Rose," I refuted grimly. "He is always guarded by at least two people. And worse... we cannot report him to the Academy officially."
"Why not?" asked Erika innocently. "Aren't gambling and loan sharking illegal? Grandma Selena will surely fire him."
"Because he is protected," answered Elena bitterly. Her golden eyes flashed angrily. "The system protects him."
"Protected by whom?"
"By the system itself," explained Elena in a frustrated tone. "The Benzzi and Delphine families have seats on the Honorary Council. Every time there is a report about Vesper's illegal activities, evidence disappears, witnesses are silenced or vanish, and reports 'accidentally' burn in the administration room."
Elena closed the document roughly until it made a slap sound.
"Vesper is a valuable asset to them. He makes money not just for Karl, but probably also bribes some corrupt instructors to keep quiet."
Heavy silence fell on the room. Dust floated under the lamp light, as if mocking our helplessness against a corrupt system.
I leaned back against the hard wooden chair, staring at the dark ceiling. It felt like hitting a concrete wall ten meters thick.
Vesper designed a trap in the Dungeon to kill me physically with hypoxia. But in the real world, he was protected by an invisible web of politics and money.
I could kill a bear with bare hands. I could concoct medicine from monster mushrooms. But fighting a corrupt bureaucracy supported by two Duke families? That was a different level.
"We are stuck," I mumbled, thin smoke coming out of my mouth again as I exhaled. "I can survive in the Dungeon later thanks to my new capsules. But that will only make him retreat temporarily. He will continue attacking with his unlimited resources. As long as Vesper holds the money, he can buy a thousand more assassins like the one who attacked me in the swamp."
Frustration began to creep into my chest, burning hotter than that oxygen capsule. I felt small again. I was just a commoner trying to fight a giant.
"There is no way to touch him legally... and illegal ways are too risky because he is protected by many eyes," said Rose, voicing our despair. She stabbed her knife into the table again in annoyance, frustrated because there was no neck to cut to solve this problem quickly.
The atmosphere became gloomy and desperate. Erika looked down, playing with the hem of her new robe sadly. I clenched my still-bandaged hand, feeling familiar helplessness.
However, amidst that suffocating silence, suddenly a small laugh was heard.
Smooth, elegant, yet containing deadly poison.
We all turned toward the end of the table.
Elena Rhyms was smiling.
But it was not the sweet smile she usually gave me at dinner, or the sincere smile when I cured her of illness. The corners of her lips lifted forming a thin smirk that was cold and calculative. Her golden eyes flashed with a light that made my goosebumps rise. That flash looked the same as her father, Duke Edwin, when destroying his rival's business in the study.
She closed the document in front of her slowly.
Slap.
"You think like soldiers," said Elena softly, her voice smooth like silk wrapping around a neck. "You think the way to defeat him is by hitting him physically or reporting him to the teacher like model students."
Elena looked at me, her smirk widening. Her beautiful face now looked like a Demon Queen plotting the apocalypse.
"Arin... Vesper is protected by the Benzzi and Delphine Families, correct? They protect him because he is useful. Vesper makes money and does not cause trouble that inconveniences his masters."
Elena leaned forward, looking at us one by one. The lamp light made the shadows on her face look sharper and more mysterious.
"But what if we do not attack Vesper? What if we make Vesper make a mistake so fatal... so embarrassing and dangerous... that even Karl Benzzi himself will beg the Academy to fire him to save face?"
"You mean?" I asked, transfixed seeing this new dark side of Elena. The cold-blooded politician side that had been asleep all this time.
"We will not catch him, Arin, but trap him," whispered Elena full of intrigue. "We will lure him to commit an unforgivable crime. A crime that violates the greatest taboo in this Academy."
"And what is that?" asked Rose curiously, her eyes starting to sparkle with interest. "Killing the Headmistress?"
Elena shook her head, then smirked wider.
"Terrorism against Nobles."
"In the Dungeon later... we won't just survive Vesper's gas," continued Elena, her eyes flashing evilly. "We will lure him to use strictly forbidden weapons, then make him do something that should be strictly forbidden. We will give him a rope... and let him hang himself in front of the entire Academy Council."
I stared at Elena with horror mixed with awe.
I was reminded again that behind her beautiful face, Elena was a pure noble raised amidst court intrigue. She was Selena Rhyms' granddaughter. Manipulator blood flowed strongly in her veins.
She was no longer a weak girl needing saving. Tonight, in this dusty archive room, she was a predator who had just found her prey off guard.
"Here is the plan," whispered Elena, signaling us to lean closer to the table.
And under the light of the oil lamp swaying in the night wind, the conspiracy to bring down the Shadow Treasurer began.