Chapter 1: The Delusional Nerd and the Infiltration Order

“Excuse me,” the male student turned around at the voice from behind him.

As his eyes met the owner of the voice, he found himself involuntarily frowning. The person who had called him was, after all, a student widely rumored throughout the academy.

For a moment, he wondered if his eyes had deceived him. Yet, the figure perfectly matched the pervasive rumors, instilling in the male student an urgent desire to flee.

“Wait, just wait a moment!” The desperate plea, as if sensing his desire to escape, ultimately made the male student turn his body fully towards the speaker.

Confronting the rumored individual head-on, the male student’s mind drifted to the endless chatter of his peers.

‘It started about a month ago, didn’t it? That nerd.’

‘Yeah! Seriously, their hair is always a mess, like they never bother to groom it. And it’s ridiculous how they always wear the same childish, thick-rimmed glasses and plaid shirt, even adding a black mask in this weather.’

‘Still, their appearance isn’t the worst, is it? That insane ‘blueprint’ is the funniest part.’

‘Oh, you saw it too?’

‘Of course. That nerd, they look like a delusional patient, no matter how you slice it. They say ordinary people with high mana sensitivity, but no magical talent, are prone to going crazy. Isn’t that exactly the case with that nerd?’

‘Their six-year leave of absence might be for that reason too!’

Dubbed the ‘delusional nerd,’ this individual had, for the past month, been accosting any passing undergraduate and engaging them in conversation, precisely as they were doing now.

“Yes.”

“By any chance, what department and year are you in…?” The question emerged in a voice devoid of confidence, frustratingly slow and hesitant.

The male student, however, had already heard his peers describe this nerd’s conversational pattern ad nauseam, and thus paid it little mind.

The first step: if you responded to their call, this nerd would inquire about your department and year.

“I’m a fourth-year student from the Third Department of Physical Magic.”

The second step: once you stated your department and year, their eyes would gleam, just as they were now, and they would utter these exact words.

“…! Then, could you assist me with my graduation project? I’m certain that if my work passes, you, for helping me, will also receive excellent academic credits.”

The male student finally frowned, for the nerd’s words were precisely what his peers had recounted, not a single syllable out of place.

He had heard that this nerd, after studying a magic-related crafting major, had fallen ill, taken a six-year leave of absence, and only recently returned to the academy. Was this nerd truly so utterly oblivious, then? Or were they merely too excessively ambitious?

In this magic academy, which extended to seven years, graduation was possible even for those who had taken long leaves of absence, provided they submitted a proper graduation project and received satisfactory scores. However, this nerd was simply too naive about the ways of the world.

Seniors in the same year as this nerd had long since ensnared talented and exceptional juniors with financial incentives, effectively trapping them in their research labs to work on their own graduation projects.

Generous academic credits, which anyone could receive after a satisfactory graduation project review, offered no genuine advantage. Thus, merely dangling credits, as this nerd was doing, would never entice anyone.

The male student himself had already secured a more advantageous offer from another senior. He bowed his head respectfully as he replied.

“I apologize, Senior. I wish to focus more on my studies.”

“Don’t say that, just look at this blueprint, just once!”

Though their speech was hesitant, the hands fumbling to retrieve a blueprint moved with an uncharacteristic lack of hesitation.

This, too, followed the exact repertoire he had heard from his peers. The male student, contemplating whether to simply ignore them and depart, found his curiosity piqued by the “delusional-patient-like” blueprint his classmates had described. He ultimately accepted the document the nerd proffered.

On the A3-sized paper, intricate magic formulas were densely handwritten, accompanied by a meticulously detailed layout diagram for their arrangement. The moment his gaze fell upon the blueprint, the male student finally understood why his peers—indeed, why all the undergraduates—had labeled this nerd a delusional patient.

“This is…”

“The theory is perfect! It can be realized!”

The desperate cry was truly pitiful, yet the male student found himself unable to agree, not even out of mere curiosity. And for good reason.

“No, I’m not doubting you, Senior.”

He had earnestly attempted to comprehend at least the initial lines, yet he couldn’t even discern if this was the magic he understood. These were arcane magic formulas of an utterly incomprehensible structure, truly feeling like the product of a maniacal, feverish scrawl.

Even a wizard from Kadan, the Mage Association reputedly comprised solely of geniuses, would undoubtedly fail to comprehend such a thing. The male student’s gaze shifted from annoyance to genuine pity as he looked at the nerd.

If this nerd persisted in offering mere academic credits as recompense for this blueprint that defied all understanding, they would never, in their entire life, graduate.

“I don’t understand it. I apologize, Senior.”

“Ah… I see…”

“Then, I sincerely hope you find a good helper. Have a good day, Senior.”

The male student bowed his head once more, then practically bolted from the spot as if making an escape. Because of this hasty departure, he failed to notice something crucial.

The nerd, who had carefully avoided eye contact with the male student throughout their interaction, was now, as if their timidness had never existed, observing him. Their gaze, cold and deeply blue, meticulously analyzed the male student’s profile, his actions, and every single step.

The nerd, Seo Doyoo, watched intently as the male student quickly walked away, disappearing towards the student council building in a flash. Then, Doyoo neatly folded the blueprint they held and slipped it into their pocket.

After a brief scan of their surroundings, Doyoo confirmed no one was observing them. They then settled onto a bench, extracted a phone, and began moving their fingers across its screen.

[Jung Han, 24 years old, fourth-year student, Third Department of Physical Magic, matches personal details. Excluded from target list.]

Seo Doyoo, having entered even the information the male student hadn’t provided as if it were their own, then pressed the send button. They returned the phone to their pocket and leaned back fully against the bench, a thought forming in their mind.

‘Damn it, when are they going to get hooked?’

Today marked precisely one month since Seo Doyoo, a member of the Mage Association ‘Kadan”s Special Operations Unit, First Team, had infiltrated this very academy.

Doyoo removed the horn-rimmed glasses they were wearing and gently rubbed their eyes. A profound longing to return to headquarters weighed heavily upon them.

Yet, that was impossible. Doyoo knew that returning to headquarters without locating the ‘mage who brings chaos to society,’ supposedly residing within this academy, would result in their superior literally splitting their head open.

If anyone were to question who in this world would genuinely cleave their subordinate’s head, Doyoo could answer with unwavering certainty.

The leader of Special Operations Unit, First Team, would indeed cleave it with a greatsword larger than their own body, all while claiming to “end it painlessly.” Doyoo, who had once narrowly dodged that very greatsword, exhaled a deep sigh, the memory resurfacing vividly.

That day had been perfect, much like any other; having completed his tasks and submitted his report, he was poised for a punctual departure.

Doyoo still remembered the sky from that day: a pristine, deep blue expanse, utterly devoid of clouds. It was a perfectly clear day, and he was in the midst of packing up, anticipating buying food from a park food truck on his way home.

Typically, Seong Heeyu, the leader of Team 1, would simply read Doyoo’s report, stamp it, and dismiss him. Yet, on that day, Heeyu summoned Doyoo to their office and abruptly posed a question.

“Doyoo, are you familiar with Icarus Academy?”

Even within Kadan, the Mage Association, its members were, at their core, ‘office workers.’ Every such worker, through countless bitter experiences, understood that a superior’s question was never without hidden meaning. Moreover, they knew full well that even feigning a slight familiarity with the subject of the inquiry would, in all likelihood, result in them being assigned that very task.

Doyoo, having no inkling of what he might possibly do concerning an academy reputedly exclusive to the wealthy and brilliant, found his instincts reflexively clamping his mouth shut. His tongue, quite literally, froze.

Seong Heeyu offered a faint smile, observing Doyoo’s reaction.

“So you are aware. That’s good.”

“…I merely know of its existence. Is it not an institution that instructs both mages and ordinary individuals with high mana sensitivity in the art of magic, while also teaching artifact crafting and usage techniques to commoners? Furthermore, any adult meeting the criteria, up to 27 years of age, is eligible to attend.”

“Since you are so well-informed, our discussion will be swift. Doyoo, I need you to infiltrate that location.”

The voice was so utterly relaxed it bordered on sleepy, as if merely remarking on the day’s weather. Doyoo, however, stared at Seong Heeyu with wide, disbelieving eyes, as if he had been seared by flame.

Seong Heeyu continued speaking as if completely oblivious to Doyoo’s bewilderment.

“There’s a ‘lawbreaker’ who has appeared there. You remember, don’t you? The mage who causes chaos in society by providing forbidden magic to ordinary people. The victim involved in the last incident was a student from that academy, and the victim of another incident was also a student from that same academy.”

Doyoo was well aware of how crucial and socially necessary it was to apprehend a mage labeled a lawbreaker in this current world, where ordinary people and mages coexisted.

However, Doyoo could not immediately answer with a simple ‘Yes,’ as he usually did when receiving orders from Seong Heeyu.

“Team Leader. May I ask you something?”

“Yes, speak, Doyoo.”

“You told me to infiltrate the academy, but am I to infiltrate as a professor, a teaching assistant, or an administrative staff member?”

“Doyoo.”

Seong Heeyu offered a bright smile. His true age was unknown, but his physical body, appearing to be around nine years old, made his youthful smile seem genuinely childlike.

However, Doyoo had personally experienced Seong Heeyu’s pure-faced, insidious smiles pushing him into hell even when he was younger, so he replied with a tense voice.

“Yes, Team Leader.”

“If it were an infiltration requiring what you just mentioned, would I have sent you, Doyoo? Or would I not have?”

“You would not have sent me.”

“Why not?”