The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character
Chapter 112: The Psychopath Killer [3]

Chapter 112: The Psychopath Killer [3]

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t show fear.

Even if my whole body was already trembling under the weight of it.

I had to hold.

Just a few more minutes.

They were coming.

They had to be.

My grip was starting to slip.

I could feel it—the ache in my fingers, the sweat on my palm, the subtle but relentless throb in my temple. I tried to blink away the sting in my eyes, but it was getting harder to breathe, harder to stay calm.

Damn it.

This wasn’t supposed to be my fight.

I wasn’t some chosen protagonist with plot armor. I was just... me.

Rin Evans.

Some transmigrator who barely knew what the hell he was doing half the time.

I came here hoping to stall Ethan with a half-baked bluff and a few enchanted toys. I didn’t sign up to stand between a madman and a room full of terrified cadets. This wasn’t a strategy anymore. It was desperation.

I glanced down again. The light on the nearest repellent was dimmer than before.

My throat tightened.

This wasn’t going to hold.

Not for long.

If backup didn’t arrive soon—

A sharp gasp cut through the silence.

It wasn’t Keira.

It came from the back. A boy—tall, broad-shouldered, clearly trembling—took a single step forward from where the rest of the cadets huddled together.

I recognized him vaguely. Cadet Nolan. A second-year. He was known more for physical strength than magical prowess. Always kept his head down. Not the type to speak up.

And yet here he was.

"What are you doing?" I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended.

He flinched—but didn’t stop.

"I... I can’t just stand here," he said, voice shaking but resolute. "I know I’m not strong enough to fight someone like him—" He nodded toward Ethan, who raised an amused eyebrow. "—but maybe I can help you buy a little more time."

"You idiot, you’ll get yourself killed."

Nolan swallowed. "I know. But if I don’t do something... I’ll never be able to live with myself."

Ethan watched the exchange like a spectator at a theater.

"Oh?" he murmured. "A brave little volunteer. How touching."

Nolan didn’t look at him.

He stepped up beside me, his hands shaking as he reached into his satchel and pulled out a dull, half-broken stun talisman.

"It’s not much, but if you can charge it just once, maybe it’ll give you a few seconds if things go bad."

I stared at him for a moment.

Something in my chest twisted.

Gratitude, maybe.

Or guilt.

Probably both.

"...Give it here," I muttered, taking the talisman and channeling a sliver of primal Qi into it—enough to make it glow faintly.

He nodded and clutched it to his chest like it was sacred.

Around us, the insects hissed again, pressing against the edges of the enchantment field. Ethan remained still, hands folded behind his back.

"Touching," he said again. "This is why I love teaching. You get to see the most delightful expressions when people start to crack."

My jaw clenched.

I could feel the crack forming.

But Nolan... he’d just helped seal it shut.

For now.

I just had to hold a little longer.

Just a little longer.

Ethan didn’t move at first. He just stood there, hands clasped lightly behind his back, watching us like a painter admiring a half-finished canvas.

"Heroic," he murmured, eyeing Nolan with a lopsided smile. "But pointless."

He took one slow step forward. Then another.

The moment his foot tapped the edge of the repellent field, the monsters beyond it hissed, their legs scraping hungrily against the floor.

"I’ve seen this before," he said, his voice light, almost wistful. "The quiet one suddenly steps up. Everyone gets a rush of hope. Like, maybe—just maybe—you’re not going to die after all."

He looked straight at Nolan.

"And then that one’s the first to scream."

Nolan stiffened.

"I wonder which one of you will start the panic?" Ethan continued, turning his head to sweep his gaze across the group of students. "The girl in the back with the burn scar on her shoulder? Or maybe the boy chewing his fingernails? I can see the tremble in his jaw from here."

Several of the students shifted, visibly recoiling as Ethan’s words cut through them like a scalpel.

"But I think..." He turned to me now, his smile sharpening. "The key to all of this is you, Rin Evans. You’re the linchpin, aren’t you? They look to you. They hope because of you. It’s sweet."

He took another step.

The insects surged forward slightly—but still hesitated just beyond the enchanted barrier.

"What happens when you fall apart?" Ethan whispered. "Do you think they’ll stay strong? No, no. You’re the cork in the dam. Pull that, and they drown in fear."

I didn’t respond.

I couldn’t.

Because every word was digging in.

I was trembling again. Not just from fatigue now—but from the weight of it all.

One wrong move and the whole room would collapse. These weren’t just students anymore. They were bodies that would fall the moment I cracked.

And Ethan knew it.

"I’m going to make you choose," Ethan said softly, voice now low enough only I could hear. "Sooner or later. You’ll choose who lives. Who dies. Maybe it’ll be Nolan. Maybe Keira. Or maybe someone you haven’t even noticed yet. But that choice will come. I’ll make sure of it."

The pressure was crushing.

My lungs refused to expand properly. My vision narrowed for a moment—just a second—before I forced my breathing back into rhythm.

You’re not going to win, you sick bastard.

You’re not.

But even as I thought that, I could feel something inside me starting to fracture—small, almost invisible.

But there.

Cracks in the armor.

Ethan smiled wider, like he could see them too.

Then he said one last thing.

"Let’s see who breaks first, Rin."

---

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