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It turned out that all the cracks and distortions in the space of the room were because of "Mr. Investigator."
He possessed an ability called Mirage—or something like that—and had used it on both the room and himself before Casper and Harold arrived.
That's why both he and the room had looked so strange. But now, everything had been restored to its original state.
Also, the investigator's name was "Leon," while the man in the shadows was called "Brian."
Both claimed to be instructors at the academy—or at least, that's how they introduced themselves.
They didn't share anything beyond that. Their fields of expertise, positions, or ranks at the academy were left completely unmentioned.
Naturally, Casper didn't care about any of that. All he wanted was to get this nonsense over with, return to his room, and sleep for an entire week.
"Ahem."
Casper cleared his throat, clasped his hands together, and rested them on the table.
He looked toward Brian and Leon, who were now much clearer to see since the dark room—lit only by an oil lamp—had vanished. Then he spoke:
"So, sir, we're here to give our testimonies about the assassination attempt that happened today—June sixth—during the weekly virtual dungeon test.
This was the result of the academy's negligence, which almost got Harold Wellington killed and dragged me, Casper Allen, a first-year student, into it. Right??"
Everyone in the room just stared blankly at Casper, who delivered his bizarre statement with a calm smile.
For some reason, Harold felt uneasy about that calm smile Casper was wearing.
"Ahem… that's a strange way to describe the incident, but yes, you're correct," Brian said, recovering from his surprise faster than the other three present.
"Mhm."
Casper smiled and nodded quietly.
After that, not much happened. Casper and Harold both gave their statements about the incident.
Naturally, Casper left out the part about his pathetic failed arrow shot—or the ridiculous way he ran from the fight, discarding his weapon, and ended up grappling with the assassin barehanded.
Of course, Harold made sure to include all of that, even mentioning the pitiful way Casper ran away "twice," and how stupid he was for wandering the dungeon alone without a weapon.
Despite Casper's constant protests, insisting it had all been part of his plan and that he hadn't been trying to run away, everyone ignored him and treated him like a whining child talking nonsense.
"Well."
Brian stood up and headed toward the door.
Click.
A soft sound came from the door as he opened it.
"Haah…"
Casper exhaled in relief. Finally, it was over. He could go back to his room.
Even though they hadn't given him a proper apology, he was satisfied with the thought of returning to his room and resting.
But Brian's next words shattered that happy thought like mist in the sun.
"Mr. Wellington can return to rest now. As for Casper, we'll continue the investigation with him."
Hearing this, Casper's expression froze—unlike Harold, who simply nodded, pushed his chair back, and was about to leave… when a hand grabbed his sleeve tightly, stopping him.
"What do you mean let Har—… I mean, Mr. Wellington leave, but not me?!"
Casper clung to Harold's clothes to keep him from going.
"You bastard, let go!!"
Harold tried to shake him off, but Casper clung like a cockroach, refusing to let go.
The two pulled in opposite directions until—
Riiip—
Both froze.
Silence.
Heavy, suffocating silence filled the room as everyone stared at the same thing: Harold's torn sleeve, now in Casper's hands.
"Pfft—!"
Leon tried—and failed—to stifle his laugh.
"You—!!"
"Hey!! Don't blame me!! The fabric of your clothes is garbage, okay?!"
Of course, that was a lie. There was no way the heir of such a prestigious noble family as Harold's would wear low-quality clothing.
Fire blazed in Harold's eyes—this was a direct insult.
"Urk—"
Casper let out a strangled sound as Harold suddenly grabbed him by the collar.
Harold said nothing, but the cold gleam in his eyes and the pressure of his presence were enough to make Casper stay completely silent.
He was certain that if he uttered even one word, Harold wouldn't hesitate to kill him right there in front of the instructors.
Haaah…
Both of them turned instinctively toward the sigh that broke the tension.
Brian ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.
"I'm not here to listen to children fight, got it?"
He walked toward them. With each step, Casper felt the air grow heavier, as if someone were freezing it solid, making it harder to breathe than Harold's grip ever had.
Neither moved under the crushing pressure until a hand appeared out of nowhere and pushed them apart.
"Now… behave like good children, understood?"
He pressed down lightly on their heads, speaking with a gentle smile—or at least, that's how it looked to everyone else. To Casper and Harold, that smile felt like another kind of hell.
Silence.
The entire room went quiet. Four people sat around the same table, unmoving.
The presence of the fourth man weighed heavily on everyone—especially on the first and second.
Tap… tap…
The fourth man set his hand on the table and began tapping his fingers against it.
Tap… tap…
It lasted less than a minute before the third man broke in, sounding oddly cheerful.
"Heh, I like this!"
"Be quiet."
The fourth gave him a sharp look.
"Tsk, Brian… you're boring!"
Yes, indeed—these four were Harold and Casper (the first and second), and Leon and Brian (the third and fourth).
Brian turned his gaze to Casper, who—for some reason—was sitting unusually still.
Casper flinched when their eyes met.
Brian smiled, but his eyes didn't laugh. It was the kind of smile that looked like it had crawled straight out of hell.
"Casper Allen, I didn't want to bring this matter up in front of Mr. Wellington—so there wouldn't be any misunderstanding that could drag you and your acquaintances into ruin just over suspicions—but since you insist on having Mr. Wellington present, I have no choice.
Still, I'll ask you one last time: do you agree to him being here?"
Casper swallowed dryly.
He didn't fully understand what Brian meant by "drag you and your acquaintances into ruin," but he could sense a very real danger to his life.
Even so, he still wanted Harold here. After Brian's words, there was no point in backing down—better to clear any misunderstanding here and now.
"Yes, I still insist on his presence."
"Alright. Then I'll be blunt. You're under suspicion of being one of the criminals sent here."
Brian's words were calm—so calm they sounded like the absolute truth of the world. He didn't hesitate for a second in saying them.
Surprisingly, Harold's reaction was composed, as if he'd expected this all along.
Casper, on the other hand, was left stunned and speechless, just staring blankly at Brian.
"I know this is a shock for you, and yes, it's quick to suspect you.
But judging by young Master Wellington's calm reaction, it seems he, too, suspected you.
So now, I want to replace all these suspicions… with certainty."
Casper still couldn't process the nonsense Brian was throwing at him.
Replace suspicion with certainty?
What did that even mean? He already suspected me?! Would he even believe me if I denied it?
"Do you have any proof to accuse me? You have no right to point a finger at me without evidence. Or did you forget I was the victim here?"
Even with his mind a mess after being labeled a criminal, Casper was sure of one thing—there was no solid evidence against him.
After all, everything that had happened to him was pure coincidence. He had never tried to harm Harold, much less get close to him on purpose.
He knew himself better than anyone—he wasn't the criminal.
…Or at least, that's what he believed, until Brian's next words shattered that confidence.
"You say I have no evidence, right? Fine, then listen to this—Casper Allen, the boy who skipped his entire first week at the academy, only to show up on the day of the dungeon test.
Coincidentally, he was late that day as well, and so was added to Harold Wellington's team—the only person to form a team with Harold—where Harold was then lured into an assassin's trap."
"Wow, what a string of coincidences!"
Leon's voice was unusually cheerful. Brian ignored him and went on.
"And not only that… shall we talk about your attempt to flee, leaving Harold behind? Or that pathetic arrow shot that didn't even reach the assassin? Oh, right! We can't forget how you used another weapon to kill the criminal with a single swing of your sword when he tried to attack you.
Which is strange—if you were strong enough to kill a rank-E assassin with one strike, why run in the first place?"
"You've got nothing to say, right? Then I'll continue. According to your report, you barely made it into the academy—your scores in every test are roughly half the passing grade, which I personally find suspicious.
So please, explain to me how an ordinary student ranked at G+ could defeat a trained assassin at rank E with a single swing of his sword. Are you even aware of the power gap between those ranks? Or will you insist it was just another coincidence?"
Casper felt lost. Everything was stacked against him. Even he was starting to doubt himself.
Could all of this really be coincidence?
He was also surprised by how quickly they'd gathered all this information.
"If you can get information this fast, then why did you let the criminals into the academy in the first place?"
He muttered under his breath.
He couldn't do much but grumble and sigh internally.
To outsiders, all of this was far too much to be coincidence.
But for him—"Raelin," who had taken over Casper's body about a week ago and suddenly found himself inside the world of a novel—everything really was coincidence.
Of course, he understood that it would be hard for anyone to believe such a claim. He wouldn't believe it himself if someone else said it.
He also knew nothing about the "original owner" of this body—who he was, whether he really was a criminal sent to assassinate Harold, why he was so strong, or who killed him and why.
There were too many unanswered questions, so he chose to remain silent and sigh.
Still, he knew one thing: nothing Brian had said so far was solid enough evidence to pin the crime on him.
If there were real proof, they wouldn't be interrogating him quietly like this.
"Despite everything you've said, you still have no concrete evidence to justify interrogating me like this, right?"
Well, well… quick on the uptake, aren't you?
Brian forced a smile at Casper's words, especially after the boy had managed to remain calm and speak so casually despite Brian's cold, intimidating aura—the kind that could scare a sixteen-year-old into confessing to a crime he didn't commit.
Of course, while Casper seemed calm on the outside, inside was a storm of tangled thoughts.
But he kept them to himself. The first step to solving a problem was staying composed, and that's exactly what he tried to do.
Finally, after a long silence, Brian spoke—saying something that made the corners of Casper's mouth twitch upward involuntarily.
"That's right. I have no evidence."
"…Or rather… not yet."
"…?!"
What did he mean, "not yet"? He'd just admitted he had nothing!
"Would you please show us your status screen?"
"….!"
"….!"
This time, it was Harold's turn to look shocked—just like Casper—at Brian's strange request.
In this world, you could show or hide your status screen from whomever you wished.
It contained all your strengths and weaknesses; showing it to someone was like digging your own grave.
Forcing someone to reveal it was forbidden by law—it could only be done with both parties' consent.
In Casper's case, it was impossible to show it to anyone.
He still didn't know why the body's original owner had hidden his strength and claimed to be rank G+ when he was actually E-, but he had no intention of exposing it now.
"Oh, don't get me wrong—I'm only asking because it's the only proof that could confirm or clear your innocence.
If we check it, we'll know whether you're truly an ordinary rank-G student… or hiding something else."
"I'm afraid I can't."
Casper's voice was firm.
"What you're asking is too much. You don't even have legal authority to investigate me.
I'm certain this whole incident has been kept quiet to protect the academy's reputation."
And yes, that much he was sure of—the academy had definitely covered up the assassination attempt and was handling it internally, without notifying the police.
After all, imagine if the first assassination attempt in the supposedly safest place after the Imperial Palace—Elias Academy, home to the future heroes—became public knowledge.
And the victim wasn't just anyone, but Harold Wellington, humanity's only hope for peace against the Vilains!
The academy's reputation would be ruined.
Brian only smiled at Casper's bold statement, then after a pause, spoke again:
"Then I'll just have to force you to show it."
By the creator of hell… how much confidence does this man have, to threaten something illegal so casually?!
Casper couldn't help but marvel at his shamelessness.
Casper sighed.
"I hadn't planned to use this method, but you left me no choice."
…A lie. He'd planned it from the start.
"…."
Brian raised an eyebrow at the strange comment.
Tap… tap… tap… tap…
Casper tapped on his watch until a 3D holographic screen appeared, displaying images of several people.
There was a faint static sound as a video began to play on the 3D display.
"So, sir, we're here to give our testimonies about the assassination attempt that happened today—June sixth—during the virtual dungeon test… shhhhhh… Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm only saying this because it's the only proof that could confirm or clear your innocence… shhhhhh… I'm afraid I'll have to force you to show it… shhhhhh…"
Tap.
Casper closed the video, and the holographic screen vanished.
Silence fell over the room. Everyone looked shocked—except for Casper, who wore a slightly forced smile.
Yes. From the very start, Casper had been recording everything that happened in the room.
That's the expression I wanted to see from you, Mr. Brian.
"You—!!"
"Shhh!!"
Casper cut Brian off, pressing his index finger to his lips and smiling awkwardly.
He crossed one leg over the other, leaned forward slightly, and smiled.
Though his eyes curved like a gentle crescent moon, everyone knew it was nothing but a devil's grin.
"Now… shall we discuss the price?"
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