Chapter 51: Lancelot? Jeanne Alter!
"Alright, let's welcome Lancelot-kun to join our Britain class."
Finn-sensei's gaze swept around the classroom; the only empty seat was next to Eikou.
"So Lancelot-kun will sit next to Eikou-kun, no objections, right?"
Lancelot didn't answer, but Eikou raised his hand.
"Sensei, I have an objection."
"What is it?"
"It's hard to say… but I'd prefer my deskmate to be someone like Minamoto no Raikou or Ibuki Douji." Eikou spoke seriously.
"If it's hard to say, then don't say it in front of the whole class. Just keep making eyes at Tristan-kun and you'll be fine. Lancelot-kun, that seat next to him is yours."
"Arrrr."
A heavy, Lancelot-esque response came from inside the helmet, and he pointed with his sharp gauntlet toward the hallway leading to the restroom.
"Oh, you mean you want to go to the restroom? Go quickly and come back, don't delay everyone's learning progress." Finn nodded.
The black-armored knight immediately left.
...
Lancelot walked heavily toward the restroom down the hall. Instinctively, he started to turn into the girls' restroom, but quickly stopped and turned instead into the men's restroom next door.
The knight randomly chose a stall in the men's restroom, locked the door, sat down on the toilet lid, and let out a relieved sigh.
"Phew, this helmet is seriously suffocating…"
From inside the knight's helmet came a woman's voice.
"Tch, why do I have to do such a ridiculous thing, this is a terrible humiliation…!"
The round table knight slowly removed the helmet, revealing a fair and beautiful face with a cold expression, neat white hair cascading down over the black armor.
The one hiding inside this armor was not Lancelot.
It was the infamous bad girl of the France United class—the renowned dragon witch, Jeanne d'Arc Alter!
In short: Jeanne Alter, or Black Jeanne.
"Damn that Napoléon, how could he come up with such a rotten idea, making me infiltrate the Britain class—I'm totally unsuited for this!"
She complained inside the empty restroom.
Bang!
Next, she punched the stall door hard, trying to vent all the frustration inside.
She—Black Jeanne—was a spy disguised as Lancelot.
Since the two classes were about to go to war, to ensure victory, Black Jeanne had infiltrated the enemy camp.
With her personality, she obviously couldn't have come up with this plan herself; it was concocted by the France class leader—Napoléon.
Since Homeroom Teacher Finn had been trying every possible way to recruit Lancelot, they decided to take advantage of the situation and send someone to impersonate Lancelot Berserker and infiltrate the Britain class!
The spy would sabotage tomorrow's inter-class competition and then suddenly betray them at a critical moment, helping the France class win the final victory.
As for the real Lancelot, he was currently being held by the France class in some dark room.
Disguising as Lancelot, deeply infiltrating the enemy's rear to cause chaos… this extremely secret and arduous mission ultimately fell on Black Jeanne—whose credit points were in a critically dangerous state, leaving her no right to refuse.
"Pretending to be Lancelot isn't that hard, since it's the Berserker class, basically no need to talk to anyone… Plus, as long as I keep the helmet on and use a synthesized voice to go 'arrrrtthuuuurrr,' no one will notice…"
"But seriously, this is such a pain, why does this exhausting job have to be mine…"
Black Jeanne rolled her eyes.
But she understood that there weren't many usable people in her class anyway: Astolfo was an idiot without any sense, Gilles de Rais was a lunatic, and there was no way they'd make that pure white Jeanne do such a dirty job—not to mention acting, she wouldn't even accept it morally.
So in the end, it still had to be her.
"Seriously…"
Though she kept complaining nonstop, she still put the knight's helmet back on.
As long as she pretended to be Lancelot for one day, the mission would go smoothly.
Today, she would endure with all her might!
After all, she was the dragon witch—there was nothing she couldn't do! So what if she was in someone else's class? She wasn't some timid little girl afraid of strangers!
She took stiff, tense steps full of nerves and walked into the Britain class.
Then, Black Jeanne walked straight to her seat.
Which was right next to Mochizuki Eikou.
"..."
She glanced at her deskmate through the slit in her helmet.
Judging by appearance alone, he looked rather calm and composed, with bangs slightly covering his eyes, a face with neutral features—like a cold and handsome young man, exuding an air of arrogance.
Oh oh, this guy… Black Jeanne still had some impression of him!
A few days ago, she had come across a very popular short video—a certain idiot in a haunted house tried to protect his girlfriend, but ended up turning around and leading the ghost away instead…
It had to be this guy, no one else!
Unlike his quiet appearance, he seemed like a first-rate idiot.
…Whatever, it has nothing to do with me anyway.
She didn't say a single word, sat down at the desk next to him, turned her head to look at the blackboard, not giving him even a glance.
However, Mochizuki Eikou took the initiative to strike up a conversation: "Yo, nice to meet you, Lancelot-san."
"..."
Black Jeanne thought: Could you just not talk to me?
"Didn't expect to see the Berserker version of you, huh. We might not be able to chat much, but with that kind of Spirit Origin you must be pretty fast, right? After all, you're a Bersercar, a ha ha ha ha ha ha."
"..."
Inside, she was completely speechless.
Oh god, what a terrible pun!
The moment he opened his mouth it was an unbelievably stupid line—truly an incurable idiot.
"..."
Black Jeanne stayed silent, turning her head away, firmly deciding to ignore him.
Seeing that she didn't react, Eikou repeated the same line:
"Didn't expect to see the Berserker version of you, huh. We might not be able to chat much, but with that kind of Spirit Origin you must be pretty fast, right? After all, you're a Bersercar, a ha ha ha ha ha ha."
"..."
Do you think I didn't hear it the first time so you had to repeat it?
Idiot, I heard you loud and clear earlier—I just didn't want to respond! No matter how many times you repeat it, I'm still not going to acknowledge you!
Even if the real Lancelot were here, hearing your spine-chillingly lame joke, all he could do is roll his eyes! There's no idiot in this world who'd laugh at such an ice-cold joke of yours!
Black Jeanne cursed silently in her heart.
"Ha ha ha ha ha!"
From behind came the laughter of two Round Table Knights sitting in the back row.
Unbelievable—idiots like this actually exist, and there are two of them!
"As expected of Sir Eikou, being able to come up with such an outstanding double entendre. So subtle, yet so skillfully guided—it truly carries the essence of British humor." Tristan said.
"I told you, Sir Eikou is a man with an innate sense of humor." Gawain also agreed wholeheartedly.
What the hell is so funny about that? Where's the punchline?
The only reason you can relate to his pathetic jokes isn't because of something called British humor—it's because you're all on the same wavelength… the wavelength of mentally challenged idiots, isn't it!