Iron Blooded Hound

With all the midterms over, it's time for a little break at Colosseo Academy.

Following the principle that 'when you study, you should study hard, and when you play, you should play hard,' Colosseo Academy holds a big festival every year to comfort the tired minds and bodies of students after midterm exams.

As the festival season approaches, professors tend to give students less class time and more breaks.

The idea is to get students thinking about and discussing things to do during the festival.

Of course.

"Shortened classes? Sounds ridiculous."

Some, like Professor Morg Banshee, were just plain mean.

He is known for his strict and sensitive personality, but he becomes especially nervous during the festival season.

"Cutting classes short to prepare for the festival? That's not what a professor should do. Students pay a lot of money to attend classes, and cutting them short is a violation of their rights. I don't understand how a professor can cancel a class for the sake of the students. It's just a selfish desire to make things easier for the professor."

Professor Banshee muttered in annoyance as he looked out the window at the banners and wreaths, the makeshift stage and tents, the sound equipment, and the fireworks display.

"In that case, today is an extended class. It will be at least an hour longer than the normal lecture time, so everyone take note."

Professor Banshee's stern announcement is met with silence.

Tudor in the front grumbled under his breath.

'Damn it, I'm on the festival planning committee! I'm supposed to be out of class half an hour early.'

'Ha, is this really possible? According to the seniors, Professor Banshee does this every festival period.'

'Obviously, you've never had any fun in your life, so you can't empathize with the students.'

'Yeah, I guess all I did in school was study.'

Bianca, who was in the same boat, was frustrated and, for once, agreed with Tudor.

Then.

"Hey. What are you talking about?"

Professor Banshee's ghostly hearing picked up Tudor and Bianca's small talk.

"I guess being a member of the festival planning committee is worth the tuition, and, what, who's never hung out at a festival?"

"...."

As Tudor and Bianca remained speechless, Professor Banshee snorted lightly.

"Don't get all excited about the festivities. This is the time of year when we have the most accidents."

With that, Professor Banshee deducted one point each from Tudor and Bianca's attitude scores.

Next, Professor Banshee is about to go back to class.

Professor Banshee was about to resume teaching when he heard loud music outside the window.

Bbangbangbangbang ???<

A military band from the Imperial Army was tuning their instruments in preparation for a performance.

Elsewhere, an invited dance troupe is putting together a choreography before taking to the makeshift stage.

And the excited chatter of students arriving for class and preparing for the festivities was creating a din of noise.

Despite the curtains on the windows, the soundproofing enchantments, and even the use of a separate silence spell, Professor Banshee groaned softly at the noise of the festival outside.

"This is why I hate festivals,"

* * *

In the end, even Professor Banshee had no choice but to end the class a little early.

The students' attention span wasn't what it used to be.

"Well, if you're going to sit through class like this, just go out and play. It's better that way."

As Professor Banshee grumbled, gathered her materials, and left the room, the children's eyes lit up.

Professor Banshee's class happened to be a joint integration class for all the classes in the Cold and Hot, so all the students were seated.

It was the perfect time to discuss what to do for the festival.

The members of the festival committee stepped forward.

Tudor from the Cold Class and Grenouille from the Hot Class were the ones who would lead the festival.

"Okay, friends, let's decide on a concept for the festival!"

The concept of the festival indicates what kind of monetization system will be set up at the festival.

In short, the idea is to create a simple facility that can be used for business, such as a bar, game room, or restaurant, and students can earn money by serving, cooking, or playing games there.

Traditional bars, haunted houses, and hunting clubs were generally popular profit models.

"But, no matter which one you choose, there is one 'law of the land' that must be followed!"

Tudor said, and all the students nodded in agreement.

At the academy's festivities, there was one unwritten rule for all grades.

It was "TS.".

Transsexual, which usually refers to the transformation of a man into a woman or a woman into a man.

At Colosseo Academy, it was fashionable for all the boys to dress as girls and all the girls to dress as boys during the festivities.

Sinclair, always cheerful, claps her hands and laughs.

"Wow, that sounds like fun. Can we test it out before the festival?"

"Sure."

Grenouille nodded, immediately agreeing with Sinclair.

By now, the students in charge of the props were carrying out the disguises they'd been working on.

Sinclair placed a mustache on her nose and chuckled.

"Look, Bianca, I look like the boss at our part-time job, don't I?"

"Yep. Did you rip off Mr. Pringles' mustache for this?"

Bianca giggles in a hip chin, thick eyebrows, disguised in a long Regent wig, and wearing a clumsily inflated inflatable muscle suit.

Sinclair laughs awkwardly at the extent of Bianca's disguise.

"Ugh, your disguise is so tight. Are you really going to do that for the festival?"

"Are you crazy? Of course I'm going to make myself look androgynous and sexy."

"Great. Come with me."

"Really? Oh, wait. We have to cross-dress men, too."

Bianca's expression quickly turned sinister.

She walks over to Tudor, who is picking out his disguise.

"Hey, I'm familiar with your disguises, so I'll help you out!"

Soon, Bianca is using makeup and disguises to dress up the boys, including Tudor.

Tudor's hair was made long with golden partial wigs.

But it didn't look quite right on his handsome face, with its deep lines.

"Ugh, he doesn't look good as a cross-dresser because he has dark lines."

Bianca shook her head and looked away.

"Hahahaha-"

And next to her, Sancho Barataria was laughing, arms crossed.

"She's crossed the line by taking it too far."

"Hahaha! I've never cross-dressed before, but I don't feel bad."

"Really? I'm surprised. I thought you were more of a manly man and didn't like cross-dressing."

"Nonsense! Cross-dressing is the most manly thing you can do, because women can't do it, and that's why the warriors of the North often have the world's greatest cross-dressing contest."

Well, technically, yes.

Since women can't cross-dress, only men can, and consequently, cross-dressing is a manly act.

Sancho nodded, looking in the mirror at his long hair and whitened face.

"With makeup, I look just like my sister, so blood doesn't lie after all!"

There was a slight murmur around him.

Unexpectedly, Piggy's eyes sparkled with admiration.

"Wah, Sancho's sister must be very beautiful. I like strong women."

"Really? Would you like to go on a blind date with her later? I'm afraid her taste is for shorter, fluffier, and cuter types."

"Really, do you think someone like me would dare to meet Sancho's sister?"

"Hahaha, if you like her, you can keep seeing her; otherwise, you can't!"

This was indeed a blind date set up like a warrior of the north.

But the women's interests had already shifted away from them.

No, their interests had been unified. They had already been.

"... 'He'?"

"Where is he?"

"Where did he go?"

"Where is he?"

"Find him!"

"Hurry up!"

"Find him right away and... find him!"

Schoolgirls with all sorts of cosmetics in their hands, wigs of all kinds, various dresses, skirts, stockings, rings, necklaces, other trinkets, chokers, garter belts, and other accessories were looking for someone.

It was a frenzy that would have overwhelmed a search party of Imperial Army commandos.

'No. 1 most beautiful man in the academy.'

'No. 1 Coolest Man in the Academy.'

'No. 1 sexiest man in the Academy.'

'No. 1 cutest man in the academy.'

'No. 1 in the Academy's most wanted man to pet.'

'No. 1 in the Academy as the man you'd most like to put your arm around.'

'No. 1 in the Academy as the man you would most like to bite.'

'No. 1 in the Academy as the man you'd most like to cuddle and sleep with.

'No. 1 in the Academy for most cross-dressing.'

The man who topped every poll of the academy's female students (and some male students who swooped in to vote).

The winner of all sorts of unofficial honors.

Some of the makeup artists, hair designers, and fashion people who've had their eyes on that beauty for a while now can't contain their lust and artistic spirits and are already searching for 'the one'.

And soon.

"...."

The predators' eyes caught sight of their prey, snoozing in the corner of the window.

Vikir.

This man always has an expressionless face.

* * *

Normally, it's fairly rare for Vikir to be sleepy.

But lately, his grueling schedule of frequent meetings with scholars, award ceremonies, midterms, and even a few assassinations thrown in for good measure has been enough to make even the mighty Vikir doze off.

Is that why?

The sight of Vikir dozing off, his face usually hidden by bangs or glasses, lit up the eyes of many of his female classmates.

"I found him! There he is!"

"Wow! He's beautiful!"

"I'm so excited!"

"I've been practicing my makeup skills for this day!"

"I even brought my specially ordered dress!"

"I made a wig out of my own hair that I've been growing for ten years! I'm a former hair model in the imperial capital!"

"Ma'am, why didn't the rare underwear set I ordered four weeks ago come? Even if it's just the ones I was wearing in a hurry...!"

An army of schoolgirls swarmed around Vikir to dress her up.

And it wasn't just the first years; there were also a lot of second and third years, and even a few fourth-year students who were graduating.

They have casually infiltrated the first-year classroom during a break in class, and they are indeed showing off their first-year traditions.

"Move over, kid, what does a first-year student know about makeup?"

"Oh my God, look at you. Do you even know what competition underwear is, and have you ever competed?"

"You made a wig out of that wild hair? Put it away! A wig made out of my hair is much better; I'm the Rapunzel of the continent."

"Give me that, kid; I'll do the nose shading a thousand times better than you!"

"I'll do the cheeks; I have 5.6 trillion color cosmetics alone."

"Hey, maybe you should do the eyeliner?"

"If we're going to do this, let's just divide the face into zones and do makeup by zone!"

"Hehe! I'll choose the color of Vikir's lower lip; no one else!"

" ..., the lower lip? Why is my brother here in the first place?"

Rows and rows of nameless makeup products. All sorts of whimsy. All sorts of dresses, skirts, uniforms, etc. And a whole lot of accessories, including garter belts, chokers, and other items that cater to a few special tastes.

The fascination of countless girls (and a few boys) was soon directed at Vikir.

And then.

"...huck!?"

Vikir snapped out of his slumber and gasped at the sight of so many palms covering his vision.

A collective insanity that would surprise even the uninhabited in an age of destruction.

Suddenly, Vikir jerked upright, remembering the nightmare of his arrest on the verge of execution.

Hudadak-

As Vikir scurried away, the girls followed suit.

"We have to make him cross-dress!"

"It is the law of our academy!"

"Let's have a festival!"

With that, the girls followed the fleeing Vikir out into the hallway and around a corner.

But.

Somehow, Vikir was nowhere to be found.

The girls looked around, dumbfounded, like a dog looking up at the roof while chasing chickens.

But.

Hack, hack, hack.

From the corner of the locker room, a black puppy nonchalantly crossed the hallway.

* * *

Vikir is currently wearing a picaresque mask.

Transformed into a black dog, Vikir made his way out of the main building, past the legs of the girls who were scrambling to find him.

'... No matter how tired I was, to those little guys.'

He dozes off, then jerks back when he sees the girls' palms, which would have made his comrades-in-arms from the Age of Destruction laugh out loud had they known about it.

'I'm sorry, my friends; I guess I've been a little too withdrawn lately.'

Living with young children while studying for the midterm exams, I couldn't afford to have a good night out.

The day is coming to an end, but there is still a long way to go.

Baskerville, Hugo, Traitors to Mankind, The Ten Commandments, The Demon World...

On the path of Sura, one must move forward by killing and killing again. Vengeful ghost.

Vikir gritted his teeth, once again familiarizing himself with the heavy meanings of the words 'age of destruction' and'returner'.

Chug-chug-chug-chug.

The tiny black puppy turned to face the academy's outer walls.

In preparation for times like this, there are clothes hidden outside the walls in advance. Just pick a suitable hole, go out, and get your clothes back from there.

Vikir has been wandering around the Forbidden Zone (and racking up quite a few demerit points for it), but he's found a spot he's been eyeing.

People rarely come to this remote part of the wall.

Vikir had built an open hole here, just big enough for his tiny body to fit through when he was a dog.

'When I exit through this hole, I immediately put on my stash of clothes and enter the city, and...'

The information from Sindiwendi floated around in my head.

The Demon Triangle, the only area of the Imperial City that her informants have been unable to reach, is the only place where they've disappeared.

It was right near the orphanage where Dantalian was hiding.

'The Royal Cemetery.'

A cemetery where the heroes who defended the Empire rest.

According to Sindiwendi's information, many informants had recently gone missing while investigating there.

Vikir recalled a newspaper article he had read relatively recently.

[Extra] The Night Hound, the Worst Villain of All, How Evil Is He? / Views: 89,269

The Night Hound has caused another major accident.

After destroying the Central Clock Tower at around 1 a.m., the Night Hound ravaged the Royal Cemetery at around 4 a.m.

The Royal Cemetery is a sanctuary where the brave and fierce heroes of the previous era who unified the empire rest, so the fact that they attacked this place was a heinous act that was tantamount to a declaration of war against the entire empire, and indeed the entire human race. Meanwhile, the number of remains damaged or lost due to this terrorist attack is enormous, and the exact damage has not yet been calculated.

It was an article about copycats imitating the Night Hound.

'"Maybe the copycat isn't really trying to copy me.'

Vikir had said that the world was just calling him a copycat for the sake of it, but what his true purpose was was still unknown, even to Sindiwendi.

And now, Vikir speculated, almost with certainty, that the Mimic had something to do with one of the Ten Commandments.

It was a hound's instinctive sense of smell.

'Alright, then, let's get right down to business, shall we?'

Vikir licked his dry nose once, lustily, then trotted off to the opening in the bushes.

Dodo-dodo.

But.

Vikir didn't quite make it through the opening.

Bung-bung-bung-

'...?'

The quickly moving legs are just fluttering in the air.

Because someone had wrapped their arms around his back and waist and was lifting him up.

"Whoa, Choco, do we see each other again?"

A familiar voice rang in his ears.

It was the student council president, Dolores L. Quovadis, holding Vikir's back with a wide smile on her face.

She was dressed for the festival, wearing a fancy tuxedo and a black mustache.

'...?'

Vikir's mouth was half open in disbelief.

Why on earth is she here?

He was caught off guard because he had checked the area several times and found it deserted.

Vikir's questions were answered by Dolores.

"You're wandering around, too? There are a lot of stray cats and dogs around here. Maybe there's an open hole somewhere."

"...."

"That's why I often feed them here, because I don't want to disturb them near the dorms."

Dolores is indeed a good person. It's amazing that she's doing a service project that doesn't earn her any community service points in a place where no one recognizes her.

Especially out here in the middle of nowhere, as far away from residential areas as possible, in case some people don't like stray dogs and cats.

Dolores laughed bitterly.

"There's been an unusually high number of abandoned puppies and cats in the dorms lately, especially in the first few months after freshmen move in. Some kids get into fights with their roommates or just get tired of their pets."

"...."

"I love pets, but there are times when I wish there was a law banning pets in academy dorms, so I'm going to push for it before my term as student council president ends."

"...."

"But I'm also facing a lot of opposition from people who want to keep their pets. Some kids think I'm a pet hater, which isn't true."

She stroked Vikir's head with a loving touch.

"By the way, were you abandoned by your master, or do you have your own butler?"

"....."

"It seems like you've been traveling alone for a while now; would you like to come with your sister?"

Dolores seemed to be under some absurd illusion.

Perhaps she had mistaken Vikir for a poor stray dog that had been abandoned by its owner.

'"Hmm, come to think of it, you're not exactly wrong.'

Vikir suddenly realized that his situation wasn't so different from what Dolores thought.

It's a bitter pill to swallow. An abandoned hound, accused of every sneaky, dirty thing.

How was that any different from being a stray dog who trusted his master only to be betrayed and abandoned?

Even worse, Vikir had been executed, so it was worse, not better.

'Even though I killed Set, or rather Andromalius, the mastermind behind it, that doesn't remove the Baskervilles and Hugo from the list of targets for revenge.'

Blood is blood. Nothing can replace it.

Well, whatever.

Dolores set Vikir aside for a moment, pausing to pick up the dog and cat poop and trash.

'... You sure do keep yourself busy.'

Vikir scurried away as Dolores wiped the sweat from her brow.

I don't like being touched by people, and more than anything...

"Ouch, Choco, come to think of it, you should be neutered!"

It was Dolores's not-so-veiled malice.

Hodadak-.

A black puppy is running away.

It was a wind-like movement, and Dolores couldn't help but lose sight of Vikir.

Would she know?

Realizing that he's just about to turn the Night Hound into an eunuch.

"... ... Hey, it's gone. You don't give much attention to your side. You're so shy."

However, Dolores, who is not aware of this fact, only makes a sad expression as she watches the black figure disappear quickly towards the edge of the bush.

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