SHAMAN PROTOCOL
Chapter 75: Thanks, my friend.

Chapter 75: Thanks, my friend.

Students from this year’s first-year batch gathered in the school gymnasium for their orientation assembly. They stood in perfect rows.

The boys wore fitted, long-sleeved jackets in midnight black with mandarin high collars. Underneath were crisp white shirts, paired with trousers matching the jacket’s color. The school badge was permanently stitched onto the chest.

Meanwhile, the girls wore matching uniforms, though with skirts—of varying lengths—paired with black high socks.

Just from the neatly pressed uniforms alone, it was clear how different this school was compared to Mikel’s previous one. And judging by the creases on his own uniform, and the stares he drew from students earlier, anyone could see that he didn’t quite fit in.

Mikel casually glanced toward the sidelines.

There, more students stood in formation, wearing the same uniform—except for the colored stripes at the ends of their sleeves. Most had two-color combinations, which he assumed indicated how many years they’d been enrolled.

"Welcome, welcome, students~!"

Up on the stage, a ghost blanket with a sparkly eye mask floated cheerfully, projecting excitement like a children’s mascot.

"This year’s first-year batch is the biggest we’ve had in a long time!" the headmaster beamed. "All in all, we’ve welcomed two hundred and one new students! Zone Zero really worked hard for us!"

Mikel’s face twitched as he watched the headmaster make a fool of himself in front of the crowd.

I usually skip first-day assemblies, but I’m pretty sure they’re not like this, he thought, shaking his head while discreetly studying the students around him.

"First and foremost, welcome to the Refined Arts Academy! We are the leading institution in spiritual warfare, curse management, and questionable survival techniques—" the headmaster flinched as he caught Butler Basil’s disapproving stare from the wings. "Wrong! Delete! Forget what I said—ahem! As I was saying..."

As the headmaster resumed, now clearly reciting a memorized speech—probably under Basil’s pressure—Mikel sighed and shook his head.

"Two hundred students?" he muttered. "Has he ever been to a public school?"

"Public schools accept anyone who walks in. This academy, however, selects students thoroughly," a voice said from beside him. "Last year, there were only fifty first-years. Even that was a record. So two hundred? That’s huge. Not everyone meets the criteria."

Mikel turned his head to the other line of students and saw a guy with short dreadlocks with an undercut, tanned skin, and light brown—almost olive—eyes. He was lean and just as tall as Mikel, about 180 cm or slightly more. But what really stood out was the guy’s broken accent.

The guy smiled and pointed to himself with his thumb. "I’m Tahu’en, but you can call me Tahu. Or just ’Still,’ of the Oskari Tribe."

"Still?" Mikel repeated.

Tahu nodded. "You’ve got nice eyes." He raised his brows. "What’s your name?"

"Uh... Mikel. Just Mikel."

"Good to know you, Mikel." Tahu grinned like he’d just gained his first friend.

Mikel, on the other hand, could say otherwise.

Doom, can you analyze this guy?

[Master, the Protocol is not for the living.]

Right.

"You’re also a first-year?" Tahu asked casually, as if it weren’t obvious. "This is my first time going to school."

"Me too."

"You didn’t go to school either?"

"Huh?"

Tahu grinned proudly. "Someone from Zone Zero came to our tribe and asked our chief for help, so they sent one of our strongest wolves here."

"Ah..." Mikel rocked his head. "Wait. If it’s your first time actually entering a big school, how did you all know all that?"

"I heard. Been here before the school opened."

"Uh... I see. So, Zone Zero actually put in some effort, huh?" Mikel muttered, then jerked his chin. "Nah, it’s not my first year. Technically, I’m supposed to be a third-year student."

Before his accident, Mikel had already been in his second year of high school. Still a bit delayed for his age, but that was due to financial issues and having failed a year. He should’ve graduated already, and he had promised his grandmother he would.

But then everything changed. Now, he was back as a freshman.

At first, it didn’t make sense. But the headmaster and Butler Basil had explained that the Refined Arts Academy’s education system was different. Graduating from this institution was equivalent to earning a four-year college degree no matter the age.

Mikel had found that... intriguing.

Then again, graduates of the Refined Arts Academy usually went on to work for Zone Zero. Those who didn’t still found great success. Either way, Mikel figured he’d be fine, regardless of which path he chose.

I still haven’t thought that far ahead. All I want right now is to learn everything I can. Then...

He snapped his gaze to Tahu and gave him a nod, ending the conversation there.

[Master, I detect the perfect Soul Candidate for the condition you’ve been stuck on.]

Mikel’s brow twitched as he glanced at the floating screen.

Where?

[Pure Soul Detected: Ghost Blanket.]

His expression twitched as his eyes locked on the cheerful ghost blanket now introducing instructors and school staff.

Now that I think about it... why is the headmaster a literal ghost blanket? I never asked—too busy surviving, I guess.

But setting that aside, he glared at Doom’s screen.

"You did this on purpose, didn’t you?" he muttered under his breath.

[The requirements are part of the Protocol, not of my design. I merely enforce them, Master.]

Yeah, I’ve heard that line before.

Mikel rolled his eyes.

After filling up the crystal, which was once his main objective, the system had given him more side quests and a new main quest—objectives he’d been grinding through during the past month. He’d earned a few decent rewards, but that wasn’t the point.

Initially, he’d received the Blood Chain and the Book of the Dead as part of the system’s starter package. But now, to summon his next cursed relic, he needed to sacrifice a soul.

Not just any ghost or spirit—those were mere fragments—but a pure, solid soul.

According to Doom, the first relics had been part of the Protocol’s initial grant. Sacrificing a soul proved that the Protocol Warden title deemed him "worthy" and "capable" of wielding the next one.

Even though I didn’t ask for more cursed relics, if I don’t keep growing, I’ll probably end up dead anyway, he thought with a soft sigh, eyes fixed on the ghost blanket headmaster.

A pure soul, huh?

[He is the perfect target, Master.]

Perfect, sure. Closest? Absolutely. But not the easiest.

He shook his head.

Forget it for now, Doom. He’s the headmaster. I’m not dumb enough to think he joked his way into that position. Besides, I don’t need the entire elite organization hunting me down on top of the spirits already after me.

[Saving for future soul candidate reference.]

"Once again, welcome students!" the headmaster beamed, standing in front of the instructors who had now stepped forward. "Enjoy your first day. Classes begin tomorrow. Don’t be late—especially not to Spirit Theory. The professor has a strict no-tardiness policy... and a working guillotine."

After that, another instructor took the mic.

"Dorm assignments are posted outside. You may now proceed to your lodgings. The cafeteria is also open—please refer to the schedule posted for mealtimes."

After the brief announcements, the instructors stepped down from the stage. The students collectively exhaled in relief. Some turned to introduce themselves and form instant friendships. Others already seemed to know each other.

As for Mikel? He had already turned and started walking away, wanting to find his dorm room first.

But before he could get far, someone jumped to his side.

Tahu.

"You’re new here," Tahu said. "You’re my first friend, so let’s go together. I’ve been living in the dorm for the past month—I can show you around."

Mikel gave him a sidelong glance, his steps slow and steady.

[Master, connections are important to humans. However, friends are the only individuals to betray you. You do not need them. I am sufficient.]

Mikel smiled back at Tahu just to spite Doom.

"Thanks, my friend."

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