“Hmph, hmph. Totally stunned by my handsomeness, aren’t they?”

Beneath the dormitory building, under the spotlight, Muen Campbell remained atop the slain monster’s massive corpse, still striking that cool, pensive pose like The Thinker.

He could feel the gazes from the surrounding students—filled with shock, admiration, and a trace of something undefined—and it filled him with immense satisfaction.

Because of the original body’s misdeeds, and compounded by the News Club’s rumors, he’d been suffering under layers of bias for a while now.

But now, he’d finally gotten a chance to pull off something cool. Even if it couldn’t instantly erase all the prejudice, at least—it could change how people saw him. Even just a little.

At the very least, they could know—

I,

Muen Campbell,

am not some two-timing bastard who steps on thirteen boats at once.

And I’m not some pervert whose brain is only filled with sleazy pickup schemes.

I’m a badass who can step up during a crisis!

Rayne, are you seeing this?!

Right now, all those adorable underclassman girls are definitely looking at me with adoration in their eyes.

Wahaha! The day has come when I, Muen Campbell, finally become popular with the ladies—

“But...”

“Why isn’t he wearing any clothes?”

At that moment, a voice as innocent as a child’s rang out.

Like the little girl in a fairy tale—the one who boldly tells the truth that no one else dares to say.

...Huh?

Muen froze.

Not wearing clothes?

Who isn’t wearing clothes?

The chill of early autumn, combined with that innocent little girl’s voice, made Muen reflexively look down—and then—

Sure enough, he saw that one body part which, if exposed in public, would instantly get him arrested for indecent exposure or worse.

“...No way.”

Muen’s triumphant smirk froze solid.

His mind scrambled back through his memories, rewinding at lightning speed to that moment when he took off his clothes and drank the potion given by that upperclassman.

Like a mental tape rewinding scene by scene...

From then... to now.

Half of that entire time—he had been searching for clothes to wear.

Did he ever put anything on?

...No.

He forgot.

Caught up in the heated battle with Rayne, he had completely forgotten.

That he had, in fact, been fighting the whole time—butt-naked.

“AAAAHHHH!! Rayne, you bastard! You’ve screwed me over!”

Not only did he forget something so crucial—why the hell didn’t Rayne remind him?!

And to make it worse, he had jumped down here like this?!

In front of hundreds of people?!

Oh my god. Just kill me now!

Click—

Right as Muen was drowning in humiliation, he heard it.

That sound.

Thanks to the original owner’s memories, he immediately recognized it.

That was the activation sound of a special type of magic—Snapshot Magic.

Because of strict imperial laws, the standard version of Snapshot Magic had to emit a “click” noise when used.

And so, in the dead of night...

Click.

Click.

Click.

A chorus of clicks filled the air.

“Y-You guys... Please stop taking pictures! This could really damage Muen Campbell’s reputation!”

As the student council secretary, Veil couldn’t allow this kind of illegal behavior to go unchecked. Her face bright red, she tried to stop everyone—but at the same time, magical energy surged in her hand, and the rapid-fire clicking from her own spell could only be heard as a ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) smooth: clickclickclickclickclickclickclick—

“......”

Muen was numb.

His eyes were dead, like a lifeless fish.

Dear heavens, please... just send someone to strangle me now.

I can’t take it anymore. If this keeps going, even a manly man like me will—

“Bwaaaahhh...”

Yes. Even I’ll end up crying like this.

...Hm?

Wait, no.

That wasn’t me crying.

But why not? I’m the one being publicly executed here—why is someone else crying?

Muen instinctively followed the sound... and discovered the sobbing wasn’t coming from the students.

It was coming from... the Doctrine Book he had stabbed earlier?

What the hell? That broken-ass book can cry?

“This is—”

A sudden wave of chilling dread crawled up Veil’s spine.

Her flushed cheeks turned ghostly pale. That ominous feeling she’d had ever since the book appeared... hadn’t gone away.

Now, it hit her like a hammer to the chest.

No hesitation.

“Muen Campbell, run!”

“...Huh?”

Muen blinked, dazed—but then he immediately snapped to his senses. He didn’t even care that his butt was still hanging out, and bolted like his life depended on it.

I mean... it’s already been seen by everyone—why worry now?

Staying alive was more important!

“Woooooo...”

Just as Muen turned around, the Doctrine Book’s sobs grew louder, more despairing—like some ghostly wind wailing through the night, sending chills down everyone’s spine.

Glorp, glorp...

Muen felt the blood and flesh beneath his feet—the stuff that should’ve been dead—begin to wriggle again.

Like a swarm of ants drawn to honey, they surged toward the now-tattered book.

The crying halted briefly.

And the sound of flesh being devoured came from within.

“Don’t tell me...”

Watching the scene unfold, Veil’s mind felt clearer than ever.

She finally realized what had been wrong all along.

That monster earlier... had shown up far too conveniently.

A beautiful hostage used to provoke hatred. Ambushed. Overwhelmed. Corrupted. Transformed into a monster. Attacked again.

Everything had flowed too perfectly.

But the one thing that didn’t make sense—was their stated objective. They had claimed to be after Muen Campbell.

And yet, none of it... had truly been aimed at him.

As if the zealots’ real goal had never been Muen in the first place.

It was... to be attacked.

To be bombarded by hundreds of magical spells.

To absorb massive amounts of magic power.

And now—it had worked.

As the magic-infused blood and flesh was consumed by the Doctrine Book, the heavy tome slowly floated upward. Its pages began to turn, one by one, like a door swinging open.

And then—from the deep darkness between those pages—faint footsteps began to echo out.

Something... was coming.

“Don’t just stand there! Attack it with magic, now! Hurry!”

Veil shouted desperately to the paralyzed crowd. Even if the blood and flesh couldn’t be damaged by magic, the book itself had dodged attacks before.

Which meant—it could be harmed.

They had to destroy it before whatever was inside... came out.

In the next moment, hundreds of dazzling spells burst forth. Even Veil began chanting her strongest spell, unleashing it with all her might at the Doctrine Book.

But it was already too late.

Or perhaps—it had been too late the moment that flesh reached a critical magical threshold.

A hand reached out first.

A long, pale, slender hand.

Its five fingers spread open... and aimed at the flood of incoming spells.

And gently closed.

A sharp, tearing sound like fabric being ripped cut through the air.

The howling night wind abruptly stilled.

As if even space itself had frozen before that seemingly delicate hand.

All the dazzling magic streams were crushed by an invisible force, compacted, compressed, shrunken—smaller, smaller—

Until, like a handful of candy drops a child might enjoy, they were tossed into the darkness of the book’s open pages.

Gulp.

The sound of swallowing echoed.

So thoroughly satisfied.