I Possessed a Broken Academy Instructor - Chapter 72



Chapter 72

Since ancient times, illegal entry has been conducted through various routes.

For crime, to infiltrate enemy nations with spies, or to earn money in a wealthier land, perhaps because one’s life is threatened in their own country, and so on.

Naturally, even in this age where humanity’s dominion has stretched into the galaxy, smuggling was hardly a unique crime.

No, it had rather become more intricate and active.

Those seeking to reach colonial planets, and those in opposition, or those lacking the qualifications to follow legitimate legal procedures, always sought the shadows.

“A fine business, indeed. For brokers like us.”

The reasons had not changed much from the past.

What had changed were the territories and the overwhelming increase in population.

Yet, even considering that, the recent weeks of smuggling had been a staggering volume, even for K, a seasoned broker.

“…Well, I never expected to fill a quarter’s worth of results in less than a month.”

Brokers were, by nature, more freelancers than members of organizations.

Of course, being part of an organization had its advantages.

One could scale their business larger, and the burden of constant grease payments would be lessened. Moreover, the freedom of movement would expand.

But in the Free Planet Alliance, that held no meaning.

To significantly grow one’s business was to invite absorption or elimination by the five major powers, and even if the costs of greasing the palms of the Public Security Bureau were reduced, if the tribute increased, it would all balance out in the end.

Freedom of movement?

There was hardly any dissatisfaction with that.

After all, brokers were busy with their work, and wasn’t Mercato the very place where criminals could easily hide?

‘Strange.’

But did that mean brokers were entirely independent?

Of course not.

Their ability to operate independently as freelancers was only possible due to the tacit approval of the five major powers, the de facto leaders of the Free Planet Alliance.

The price they paid for maintaining a certain boundary while providing services to the five powers was a modest tribute, or rather, donations and information.

‘Most of the smuggled are workers from factory planets. And only able-bodied men, without families… What is this?’

The act of snitching, the more frequent it occurred, often led one to be labeled as the boy who cried wolf, thus requiring even greater caution.

He began to sift through the list of those he had moved, hoping against hope that his worries were unfounded, including the list of his so-called apprentices, whom he could refer to as pups, and soon he could not help but realize the source of his unease.

‘…What is this?’

Those who tread in the shadows have a peculiar trait: they react with uncanny instinct to matters that threaten their lives.

And K soon realized, in a state of panic, that he had been blinded by greed and had made a grave mistake, rising abruptly from his seat.

‘Including myself, four brokers have moved 5,000 people over the past few weeks?’

Considering that the average was around 1,000, that was a staggering fivefold increase.

All men, or a scant few women, mercenaries.

It is by no means a common sight.

Why had he not realized it?

Well, when viewed individually, it was merely a slight uptick in workload compared to usual.

Something lurked. A dangerous something.

As this realization dawned, his course of action became all but inevitable.

‘Ah, I must inform them!’

He hurriedly gathered his documents, preparing to step outside.

At the same time, he swiftly began transferring the funds he had laundered for when he needed to hide, moving them to a proxy account.

There were no direct ties to the five major factions.

But he could always give a heads-up to the public security officer watching his back.

‘If it comes to it, I’ll hand over my disciples.’

After all, though they were called disciples, they were merely potential rivals who bowed to him for the sake of money.

If necessary, he could abandon family; surely he could part with mere disciples.

His judgment was swift, and his preparations even swifter.

Before three minutes had passed, he was ready to flee, grasping the doorknob to open it, while simultaneously dialing the public security officer.

Beep-beep.

A brief tone rang out, and soon a familiar voice brushed against his ear.

〔Hey, K. What’s going on?〕

A voice as curt as it was unyielding.

Yet, as K opened the door, he found himself unable to respond.

“P-please, save me—”

“……”

The moment the door swung open, a woman clad in a janitor’s uniform pressed a dagger to his throat, offering no reply to his plea. Instead, the blade sliced swiftly, timed perfectly with the flickering lights of the dim corridor.

〔Hello? Tch, what’s happening?〕

“G-gurgle…”

As the lights flickered back to life, the woman regarded the fallen K for a moment, then without hesitation turned her body and whispered softly into the watch on her wrist.

“I’ve taken care of all the brokers, boss.”

Behind her, K clutched his neatly severed throat, slowly, painfully succumbing to the darkness.

*

– Stero Mer is an immortal.

Jin Crow mulled over words he had once heard, capturing the unsettling energy that seeped through the car window.

Beside him sat Tita Zenolua, silently smoking a cigarette, waiting for the right moment, while the nameless mafia driver in the front seat gripped the steering wheel, wiping away the rain that dripped steadily, careful not to disturb their silence.

“Stero Mer will catch on right after the job begins.”

It was Tita Zenolua who broke the silence, her tone a mix of anxiety and calm as she lit another cigarette.

She watched the crowd gathering in the plaza, undeterred by the intensifying rain, her gaze fixed on the LED clock flashing from the towering spire.

“The key is how quickly we can sever his Achilles’ heel.”

Jin Crow responded, his voice steady.

The plan was simple.

Eliminate or incapacitate Lucky Anubis, Jimmy Silver, and Fatal, who followed Stero Mer, then converge in Sector One. Strike at Stero Mer.

For that, the most crucial factor was how swiftly they could cut through them.

[22:00]

At last, the LED atop the spire indicated ten o’clock in the evening.

The driver, having confirmed the time, started the engine that had been turned off, while Jin Crow opened his hip flask, taking a swig, and Tita Zenolua tore her gaze from the gathering citizens to speak.

“Let’s become Paris’s poisoned arrow, striking Achilles’ heel, mercenary Jin.”

“Indeed, we must.”

The vehicle carrying the two slipped quietly away from the plaza, just as a massive blackout struck Sector Eleven.

“I can’t live like this!”

“Zenolua, you b*stards! Stop the racial discrimination!”

“Uwaaah! Burn it all down!”

In Sector Eleven, the ‘unidentified rioters’ immediately erupted into chaos, brandishing historic Molotov cocktails, firebombs, and makeshift clubs as if they had been waiting for this moment.

“What, what’s happening?”

“A protest, no, a riot! Contact Anubis, now!”

“Request support from the Public Security Bureau!”

“B-but, the blackout is disrupting communications…!”

“What? Damn it! What does a streetlight going out have to do with communications…!”

Naturally, the public security forces, who were nominally responsible for maintaining order in the Free Planet Alliance, attempted to intervene, but they were ill-equipped to contain a riot that swelled to the thousands in the blink of an eye.

To make matters worse, for reasons unknown, communications were down.

Even those in the Public Security Bureau who managed to break away from the chaos to make contact could only doubt their own ears.

“What, what did you say?”

[It’s not just District 11! District 5 and District 7 are the same!]

Only then did the public security officers, overwhelmed by a profound sense of dissonance, come to a singular realization.

…Something is happening.

And it is not something to be taken lightly; it is a natural disaster in its own right.

“W-what should we do, sir?”

“What do you mean, what should we do? Damn it.”

The officer, referred to as senior, took a drag from his cigarette, watching from a distance as the rioters gleefully hurled Molotov cocktails and shattered the shop windows.

One thing was certain…

“Got any popcorn?”

What the public security could do was nothing at all.

On this planet, their role was merely to remain silent; that was all.

*

Scattered riots erupted, yet the atmosphere of the Mer Corporation remained largely unchanged.

No, in fact, it was rather pleasant.

The reason was simple.

The man who claimed to be the master of the planet beyond this company. Stero Mer was in a good mood.

“Let them handle the riots. The last faction to normalize will face consequences.”

That was all he had to say.

Worker uprisings were a common occurrence.

There was a sense of unease regarding the overlapping power outages, but just because a fire broke out, it didn’t mean that a few thousand or tens of thousands of rioters would suddenly become a special forces unit.

Beep-.

He left his secretary behind and stepped into the private elevator, a privilege granted only to him, pressing the button marked with nothing but a blank space.

Soon, the elevator began its swift descent into the underground, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself facing a floor marked with an N and doors that opened smoothly.

“Welcome, Chairman.”

A woman in a white coat approached him, bowing her head, appearing outwardly like a child.

However, the oddly seamless joints made it clear that she was not human, but an android.

And she was not the only one.

The entire research staff of this vast underground facility was composed solely of androids, all loyal only to him.

“What about the next body?”

“All compatibility tests have already been completed and are waiting. However, given the specifications you desire, I believe we should conduct one more examination.”

Steromere nodded calmly at her words.

Despite his infamy, he tended to respect the voices of the field. Of course, if it crossed a line, he would cut it off without hesitation, but she, the head of this underground laboratory, had always been faithful.

“I wish to verify something.”

“Of course, Chairman.”

The place she led him to was filled with massive, aquarium-like circular tanks, brimming with everything from fetal forms to something the size of a small boy.

She stopped in front of the tank marked No.74 and succinctly explained to Steromere, who was gazing at the boy contained within.

“I have implemented the desired pentagear-level output, but the limit is a maximum of one hour.”

“Is that so.”

It would be a lie to say he felt no disappointment, yet he refrained from uttering words like a cruel employer demanding more output from her.

If this was the current limit, it must be accepted.

Her abilities were one thing, but the line drawn by the Mother AI overseeing all of this was another.

Steromere briefly gazed at No.74, hairless yet perfectly resembling himself, before turning away without hesitation.

Then, as he boarded the elevator, which opened quietly and smoothly as it had upon his arrival, he spoke to the bowing laboratory director.

“Mother AI, feel free to push the nectar to its limits; achieve the utmost advancement.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

In that moment, the emotion reflected in his eyes was simple.

Desire, pure and unadulterated.