I Become a Secret Police Officer of The Imperial Academy

Chapter 35

“Ethel, it’s about time you gave me back my gun.”

I brought it up on the way back to the mansion.

There was no one else around—probably because the mansion was in such a secluded place.

“…No.”

Holding a cup of tea with a lemon slice in it as I walked wasn’t a bad feeling.

I had insisted I didn’t need it, repeatedly declining her offer, but Ethel had seemed bothered by the thought that my cheap coffee had dampened the mood at the café. Eventually, she went down to the first floor and ordered a drink for me.

“At least give me a reason why you won’t.”

I might have liked the tea, but I certainly didn’t enjoy this conversation.

“…….”

“So, are you really planning to keep me by your side forever?”

It wasn’t as if I hadn’t realized this wasn’t a joke.

That much had been clear the moment she brought me my uniform in the morning.

“…Yes.”

What is Ethel thinking?

Why does she insist on keeping me close?

What’s the issue here?

Just because I lost my family? No, that’s not it.

I don’t know… It’s just… a little sad.

“Yesterday, I had plenty of chances to leave the mansion.

But I didn’t. So, can’t you just give it back to me now?”

“I already told you, no!

A normal student wouldn’t even carry a gun in the first place!

You’re not taking any special classes like Theo-senpai, either!”

“It’s just… I’m carrying it to protect myself.”

“…How can you say that so confidently?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Ethel stopped mid-walk and sat on a bench by the roadside.

She glanced down at the ground before letting out a dry laugh, as if finding her own words ridiculous.

“The noose I found in your desk drawer—what was that for?

…If you can give me an explanation I can accept, I’ll give the gun back immediately.”

Does she think I’d shoot myself in the head if I got the gun back?

I suppose it wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption.

Right before Diana hit me with her spell, I’d been ready to shoot myself rather than let them take me alive.

At the time, I really thought they had figured me out.

“The only thing you’d use a noose for is hanging yourself.

I’m not exactly a shepherd herding cows, am I?”

At that, Ethel stood and pointed her finger at me, raising her voice.

“How can you say that so casually? So, you really were planning to die!”

This isn’t the kind of argument I want to have.

I don’t want to be treated like someone who was brought here just because they seemed suicidal.

“Yeah, so what? I don’t see what’s so wrong about that.

If you lost your brother and your parents because of me, would you want to keep living?

That little kid had her side torn open and eaten alive. Right in front of me.

And my parents—they burned alive.”

But Ethel had always treated me sincerely.

I didn’t want to hide behind mockery, sarcasm, or lies.

That’s the kind of thing a hero does, not me.

Still, if I laid everything bare, Ethel would hate me—or worse, try to stop me.

I wouldn’t tolerate anyone standing in my way.

This is just about killing demons. It doesn’t have to come to killing Ethel.

At least, I hope it doesn’t.

How am I supposed to deal with Ethel?

A light argument could help vent some pent-up tension. It’s not the worst approach.

“So, yeah. I joined forces with my living brother, put all our resources into it, and tried to wipe out every disgusting creature in this world.

Didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, though.”

That was probably the most intense period of my life.

Every moment, I put all my energy into killing even one more demon.

“Your brother died because he tried to take out the Hanton couple and all those demons!

To me, he’s practically my enemy!

He killed Allet, Hanton, Mitch, Grandpa Gonzal, Neme, Aunt Lilven—do I need to keep going?”

If she’d thrown in a curse word or two, it might have made her rant feel less flat.

Anyway, Ethel started listing the names of demons I had probably killed.

None of them stuck in my memory.

I didn’t bother remembering them, and they weren’t worth remembering.

It’s like someone else naming their dog “Spot”—why would I care to remember that?

“If killing those beasts was wrong, then just kill me.”

Ethel began crying.

At first, she tried to hold back her sobs, but eventually, tears began falling. She wiped them away with her palm.

“Kill you? What nonsense… I brought you here to save you, you idiot. You’re my friend.”

She was probably about to call me a “bad woman,” but it came out softer than she intended.

I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket, wiped her tears, and handed it to her.

It wasn’t much use to me—I hardly ever cried.

Alicia had told me not to cry, so I didn’t.

It’s just… how it was.

She said to live, so I lived.

She said to get along with friends, so I did my best to get along.

The men I used to care about don’t occupy my thoughts anymore.

I hadn’t seen one of their faces in ages—maybe they were just busy.

Alicia hadn’t said caring about someone meant romantic love, so I figured it didn’t matter.

After crying for a while, Ethel’s emotions seemed to calm down, and she said something weak.

“Let’s just forget about everything that happened before….”

“How could I forget, Ethel?”

There’s no way I could.

If I tried, the leader of those demons would probably appear in my dreams, muttering resentful nonsense.

Trying to forget only leads to guilt.

And that guilt drives you insane.

That’s what happened to most people who returned from the battlefield.

So I have to face the truth as it is.

Of course, I’d tweak the facts a little to suit my narrative.

“You and Theo came and killed my brother.

How could I forget scraping pieces of corpses off the walls?”

Sticky. It was disgusting.

The smell—don’t even get me started.

Maybe that’s why my negative thoughts about Julian had grown stronger.

I felt like I was about to lose control, so I steadied myself, speaking to Ethel in a way that sounded like I was comforting her—but in truth, I was trying to comfort myself.

“You asked me about the noose, didn’t you?

The day after I cleaned up what was left of Julian, I woke up in an empty mansion, and the thought hit me.

Empty halls, dust floating in the sunlight, the faint metallic smell of blood… and a sense of emptiness.

I wanted to die.

So, I went back to my room, made a noose, and hung it from the ceiling.”

In truth, I’d even put my neck in it.

I felt the rope press against my throat but pulled my head out immediately after.

“And then, Ethel, here’s the funny part.

I got scared. Really, absolutely terrified.

I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wondered if giving up everything and dying like that was the right thing to do.”

I’d sat on the floor for a long time, staring at the rope.

If I’d been a little braver—or more despairing—I would’ve stood up and hung myself then and there.

But I couldn’t.

I had demons to kill.

Maybe that thought came to me because I wanted to live.

Otherwise, I had no reason to stay alive.

What a pathetic, miserable human being I am.

It’s utterly disgusting.

“…Ellen.”

“After that, I just went about my work.

I didn’t have to worry about starving. If it got that bad, I could just sell one of the family’s buildings.”

At those words, Ethel hugged me tightly.

“…Don’t go. Not to the back alleys, especially not at night.

You don’t need to work.

I’ll give you food, a place to sleep, whatever you need while you’re at the academy. So please…”

I could feel Ethel trembling slightly as she sobbed, her body shaking against mine.

There was a faint salty smell—maybe from all the tears she’d shed, or maybe someone had scattered salt nearby.

Her hair smelled like the same soap I’d used, as did her uniform.

Yet her scent was different from mine.

How could someone smell like flowers or fruit?

Maybe that’s why I felt drawn to her scent.

Holding Ethel close, letting her bury her face into my chest, I stared into the void and replied softly,

“Alright.”

Of course, it was a lie.

“…Don’t die. Don’t even dream of suicide.”

“Alright.”

That, at least, was the truth.

I had no intention of dying.

“…And don’t hate the demons too much, okay?”

“Alright.”

That was a lie.

“I think I like you too much, Ellen.

If you disappeared, I’d be devastated.”

If she hadn’t been crying and whining with her face buried in my chest, I might have fallen for her then.

But instead, I simply patted her soft hair.

“And more than just being alive, I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. Good food and a friend to be with—that’s enough.”

Ethel seemed to have an odd fixation on the word friend.

When I said it, she stopped sniffling, pulled away from my embrace, wiped her eyes, and smiled bashfully.

Her face, illuminated by the setting sun, was red—so much so that you wouldn’t even know she’d been crying moments ago.

“But eventually, I’ll leave.

Don’t get the wrong idea, Ethel. I’m just humoring you for now.

You know I can leave anytime I want, right?”

“…Yeah.”

“The gun—I won’t need it for a while.

I’m not living alone, after all.”

“Yeah!”

After we returned to Ethel’s mansion, I went into the bathroom to wash up.

This time, I intended to wait until Ethel was done, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me inside with her.

Her hands trembled slightly, though she seemed to be trying hard to suppress it.

We washed silently—Ethel poured warm water over my hair, scrubbed every corner of my body with soap, and rinsed me off.

Afterward, we sat together in the tub for a long while without saying a word.

At one point, my gaze briefly drifted toward her slightly rounded chest, but I quickly looked away, feeling like it was something I shouldn’t stare at.

As the awkward silence stretched on, making me uncomfortable, Ethel broke it by speaking up.

“…Ellen.”

“Yeah?”

“We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. That’s a relief.”

“Yeah.”

I wonder what’s so relieving about it.

Even though I answered, I didn’t understand.

It felt like I was brushing a problem to the side again, as always.

That kind of stuffy, uncomfortable feeling where you pretend everything’s fine and force a smile.