Chapter 117: EXPOSED [4]
Chapter 116: Exposed [4]
The silence following that sudden voice was almost holy.
For a long heartbeat, neither Gileard nor Michael moved. The inspector’s once-lethal aura evaporated into the air, leaving only the faint shimmer of golden mana fading around his shoulders.
Michael’s lungs finally remembered how to breathe, dragging in sharp, shaky gulps.
Then, she stepped fully into the light.
Silver hair spilled down her back, catching the glow of the mana lamps. The familiar shade—soft as moonlight, with the faintest blue tint near the ends—was unmistakable. Her eyes, calm yet sharp, surveyed the room like they were assessing a battlefield. The faint clink of armor followed her as she moved, each step composed and deliberate.
Michael’s jaw dropped slightly.
"Aria...?"
The word slipped out before he could stop it.
She turned her head toward him, her expression softening just enough to confirm his guess.
It was indeed Aria—the same Aria who once helped him in the most unexpected of moments, the one he had mentally filed under "too good to be true and too dangerous to be near."
Only now, she was apparently the granddaughter of the very man trying to crush him like a bug.
Michael’s brain immediately froze, rebooted, then crashed again.
Of all the plot twists in this cursed world... THIS one wasn’t in the game files.
Meanwhile, Gileard—who had just been radiating enough killing intent to make dragons kneel—was suddenly fidgeting like a guilty schoolboy caught by his teacher.
"Aria... what are you doing here?" he asked, the gruffness in his tone oddly softened.
"Saving your reputation," she replied dryly. "And his life."
Michael blinked.
Did she just... sass her grandfather?
The inspector’s eye twitched slightly.
"I wasn’t threatening him. I was merely testing—"
"Testing what?" Aria cut in, her tone sharp. "His cardiac endurance?"
Gileard coughed into his fist, suddenly looking everywhere but at her.
Michael just sat there, silently observing, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and awe.
This girl just made an S-rank fold like wet paper. What kind of family dynamic is this?
The two continued talking—rapid-fire sentences, quiet but charged. Michael couldn’t follow a word of it. Their expressions shifted from scolding to defensive to... nostalgic? Maybe they were reminiscing about childhood sword lessons or something.
Then, abruptly, both of them turned their heads toward him at the exact same time.
Michael froze under the dual gaze—one amused, one mildly annoyed.
The feeling was akin to being caught stealing sweets by both your teacher and your crush.
Gileard’s expression was unreadable, but his narrowed eyes screamed "You’re still not off the hook."
Aria, on the other hand, smiled—a bright, disarming smile that could probably convince demons to apologize for existing.
"Junior," she said sweetly, "let’s go."
Michael blinked.
"Huh?"
He looked from her to Gileard, half expecting the man to explode.
"Wait... I can leave?"
Gileard met his gaze with that same tired sigh one gives to children who’ve already lost the argument. He waved his hand, as if brushing off the whole situation.
"Go."
Michael didn’t move immediately—partly out of disbelief, partly because his body hadn’t caught up to the idea of freedom.
Aria’s lips twitched.
"Honestly."
Without warning, she strode forward, grabbed his wrist, and tugged him along with surprising strength.
"Hey—! Wait, my sword—!"
"You can summon it later, idiot."
And just like that, she dragged him out of the Law Hall’s interrogation chamber, the heavy door slamming shut behind them.
---
[Inside the Law Protector Hall – Moments Later]
The room felt oddly empty without the chaos.
A soldier rushed in, panting slightly, his armor clinking as he saluted sharply.
"S-Sir! Forgive me! I tried to stop Miss Aria, but she—uh—used a high-tier wind step to—"
"Stop."
Gileard didn’t even look up. He was already gathering the scattered documents on his desk, straightening them with practiced calm.
"Don’t apologize. I know better than anyone how impossible it is to keep my granddaughter waiting."
The soldier blinked.
"Y-Yes, sir. It won’t happen again."
"Make sure it doesn’t happen next time."
The old inspector’s tone softened slightly. "And next time, just... let her through earlier. It saves everyone the trouble."
"Understood, sir."
The soldier turned to leave, but paused.
"Sir... about the accused. Is the Chief of the Disciplinary Committee guilty?"
Gileard froze mid-motion. His fingers rested on the edge of a file before curling around it, thoughtful.
After a long pause, he smiled faintly.
"Hard to tell. The situation’s... fifty-fifty."
He stacked the files neatly, a glint of interest flashing in his eye.
"Bring the complainants in tomorrow morning. I have some questions for them."
The soldier bowed again and hurried out.
Once the door closed, silence returned to the room.
Gileard’s hand lingered on the topmost file labeled Michael Wilson. His expression softened into something almost fatherly.
"What a courageous lad..." he muttered under his breath, a faint smirk curving his lips.
"Let’s see how far that fire can take you."
---
Outside, the Academy grounds were painted in hues of orange and gold. The sun hung low, dipping lazily toward the western spires. The air was warm, tinged with the scent of iron from Aria’s armor.
Michael and Aria walked side by side along the cobbled path leading away from the Law Hall. She had finally released his hand—though not without a glare that dared him to complain about being dragged.
"So..." Michael began, scratching the back of his neck. "Is Inspector Gileard your grandfather?"
"Obviously."
"But your surname doesn’t match."
Aria sighed, then gave him a light flick on the forehead.
"Idiot. He’s from my mother’s side."
"Ah—right, of course. Makes total sense," he said, rubbing his head with a sheepish grin.
Note to self: never question a woman’s family tree again.
They walked for a bit in silence, their boots crunching against gravel. The golden light reflected off Aria’s silver armor, making her look like some holy knight descending from heaven.
Michael glanced sideways at her, amused.
"You look like you just came from the front lines. Did you fight a war before saving me?"
Aria chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Not quite. The Academy assigns field missions to second-years. My team’s task was monster suppression near the Southern Village. We just returned a few hours ago."
Her tone softened, though pride still laced her words.
"We cleared an entire nest of Steelfang Lycans."
Michael blinked.
"That explains the armor—and the smell of blood."
"Excuse me?" she said sweetly, her eyes narrowing.
"Ah—uh, I mean—heroic scent of victory!"
She snorted and looked away, but he caught the corner of her lips twitching upward.
Then she turned back to him, eyes narrowing playfully.
"You know, Junior, you’re really something. Accused of extorting nobles one week after becoming Chief. That’s... a record."
Michael groaned.
"It seems I’ve become their favorite punching bag."
"You could’ve fooled me," she said, smiling. "The way you faced Grandpa? I thought you were made of steel."
"Steel?" he repeated. "More like sheer stupidity and divine luck."
They shared a short laugh before Michael tilted his head curiously.
"By the way, how did you even find out I was arrested?"
Aria smirked.
"How could I not? Who do you think is the President of the Royal Club?"
Michael stopped walking.
"...Right."
Of course she’d know everything. She probably gets daily reports before breakfast.
"Anyway," he said quickly, changing the topic, "thanks for the rescue. Again."
"You owe me two now," she said lightly. "And this time, I’m keeping score."
"Deal," he said with a grin. "But next time you go monster hunting, take me with you."
Aria blinked, surprised.
"You? On a field mission? You’re barely E-rank."
" I am E- rank now" he corrected immediately.
She stopped walking, her eyebrows rising.
"Already? You leveled up in just a few weeks? You’re really a genius...junior.
"Guess I’m a fast learner," he said with mock modesty.
Her expression softened into genuine admiration.
"You’re progressing faster than I expected. Fine—if we get another task soon, I’ll let you join us."
"Great. I’ll bring snacks for all senior "
"Just don’t get eaten," she replied with a laugh. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower before I start smelling like the Lycans we killed."
Michael chuckled.
"That’s... fair."
Aria smiled one last time—bright, tired, and sincere.
"See you, Junior."
And with that, she waved and walked toward the dormitory, her silver armor glinting in the fading sunlight.
---
Once alone, Michael stretched, letting out a long sigh. The warmth of the sun felt good after the cold tension of the interrogation room.
He glanced down at his smartwatch, the screen flickering to life. Several messages popped up one after another.
---
[Mom: Son, your elder brother has reached C– Rank! (3:06 PM)]
[Mom: After his progress, your brother and father went to a D-level dungeon together for training. (3:06 PM)]
[Mom: Don’t skip meals. Eat properly. (3:07 PM)]
---
Michael smiled faintly.
As expected... My brother’s a monster too.
Then another set of messages appeared.
---
[Victor: Boss, I’ve deposited 3 Billion into your Alliance account.]
[Victor: Boss, I’ve changed my location. Will meet you on Saturday.]
[Alliance Union Bank: ℜ3,000,000,000 transferred to private account – Ref 558278782156.]
---
Michael blinked
.
Three billion...?
The corners of his lips slowly curved upward.
"Guess I’m rich now."
For a brief, dangerous second, he toyed with the idea.
If I send half a million to my family, their reaction would be priceless.
Then reality hit him.
Nope. They’ll ask a hundred questions, and I’ll have to write an essay explaining everything.and this money I have to invest in The Drawn Mercenary Guild .
Hope the chairman finds any evidence and will give him a call after I take a bath.
He sighed and slipped his hands into his pockets.
After midterms, I’ll visit home. Until then, let’s keep this a secret.
Just as he started walking toward the dorm building, his smartwatch buzzed again.
Ring~ Ring~
He glanced at the caller ID.
"Leon, huh?"
He tapped the screen, and a small holographic window projected Leon’s grinning face.
"Michael! You’re back from the Law Hall already?"
"Yeah," Michael said casually. "Just a misunderstanding. Some nobles are trying to frame me."
"Knew it," Leon said with a relieved chuckle. "I called because we planned to meet this evening. Still on?"
"Of course. I was the one who arranged it."
"Right, right. My bad," Leon said, scratching his head with a sheepish grin. "Then let’s meet at the cafeteria in an hour. I’ll tell the others."
"Got it."
The call ended, and Michael stepped into the lift. He leaned against the glass wall as it ascended, watching the orange sky fade into deep violet.
Before the doors opened, he scrolled through his contacts and selected a familiar name.
[Calling: Alex]
The line connected, but before the other side could answer, Michael smiled faintly.
"Let’s see how deep this rabbit hole really goes."
---
To be continued...