In a dorm room somewhere in Ukiyo Koukou.

  A young man was penning in a journal.

  The morning sun was cutting through a room covered with tatami mats.

  “私の名前は平野悠人です。

  私は国内でも最も名高い学校の一つに入学しました。

  浮世高校。

  毎日、自分をより良い人間に、そして強くするために夢を生きています。

  旅の中で、友達に出会い、ライバルを作り、モンスターと戦ってきました。友達がそばにいれば、どんな困難も乗り越えられます。

  まあ、ほとんどのことはですが。

  成績を真剣に考えるのを忘れていたかもしれませんが、校長先生は言いました。もしすべてAを取れば、二年生に進級できると。

  私は、自分がこの学校で見た中で最高の生徒になることを誓います。

  待ちきれません。”

  (My name is Hirano Yuto.

  I got into one of the greatest schools in my country.

  Ukiyo Koukou.

  I live my dream every day to become both a better man and stronger.

  Throughout my journeys, I have met friends, made rivals, and fought against monsters. With my friends by my side, I can get through anything.

  Well, almost anything.

  I may have forgotten about taking my grades seriously, but the headmaster had said that if I got all A's, I could pass my second year.

  I promise myself to become the greatest student the school has seen.

  I can’t wait.)

  In an empty classroom somewhere else.

  I feel a great disturbance in the air, like the sun is trying to burn out my good eye.

  Well, it doesn’t matter. I gotta get ready for my first class.

  There were three levels, with three tables on each row. The elevation was around six inches, just a small step.

  The room was about six hundred square feet. There was a table in front of the room and a chart board.

  …Who the fuck makes a building that has Romanesque, Gothic, and hints of classic Japanese architecture? Where their three people fighting over the design of this place while making the school at the same time.

  That's not how fucking building works!

  The windows are huge, and some of them are stained, depicting battles or people who I don’t know. But the building is made up of separate departments with abstract figures within the walls, but the windows and what surrounded said windows have ornate designs.

  Who the fuck chooses Romanesque over fucking Gothic or classic Japanese! Romanesque doesn’t even look good.

  Looking at the Japanese stuff, it adds courtyards that have gravel and grass with rooms that are covered with tatami mats for the classic Japanese.

  Romanesque just adds a classic church feeling that makes me think of James Baldwin's quote from The Fire Next Time. A man who reached out for the church but only found hatred, penned these words: "I really mean that there was no love in the church. It was a mask for hatred and self-hatred and despair."

  Chalkboards weren’t even made until 1800. Why does this always happen? What the hell is going on… I hate the sound of chalk; it bothers my ears… I probably got bloody tinnitus, so I don’t think I’ll be able to hear it now.

  FUCK!

  I could never get how people come back to school to teach.

  It's maddening.

  If I didn’t need research material, I wouldn't have touched this place with a 39-and-a-half-foot pole.

  I placed my five guns on the table (the two Jerichos, Colt, Winchester, and double-barreled) and placed the ammo next to each weapon that had loose rounds.

  Taking all this shit off for the first time in a long bit felt rather nice.

  I placed my katana, wakizashi, and Bowie knife on the table. Guess I don’t need a tantō… Miyamoto has one, I believe. Really should pay more attention to his weapons.

  Oh, I forgot about my crowbar and grenades. Good lord, I’m starting to forget the pound of metal and handheld explosives.

  The whole table was covered in weaponry.

  …Christ.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  I’m like the damn Grim Reaper carrying all this shit around with me.

  But with white spots.

  Feel like I’m a bloody parody of myself.

  I started with, what, sixty-eight rounds with only a Jericho and a Bowie knife.

  Never once killed a man and tried to stop the boozing back when at twenty-eight.

  Now seen beings who call their selfs fucking gods…

  Seen all horrors of men.

  And still dragging this rotting corpse through it all.

  (I opened the top of my flask and took a swig)

  Yeah, what fucking parody…

  Mm, let’s see, I have a class of twelve for all my periods. I’ll just copy the same class and change it on the fly when needed.

  I’m thinking about grabbing a few books about world history and famous battles for later classes.

  While I left for the library, Miyamoto readied his own class.

  I only taught V before.

  The classroom is outside with a cherry blossom standing in the middle back.

  With about a dozen bokken (木剣) or bokutō (木刀) in a bin.

  I have a dozen students.

  How will I teach them?

  Tadakatsu would have beaten it into them.

  I guess I did the same for V, but I knew he could take it.

  Even the gods can’t kill him, or at least can’t keep him dead.

  I’ll teach these kids with discipline but never with cruel abuse.

  “千日の勤学より一時の名匠。”

  (“Better than a thousand days of diligent study is one day with a great teacher.”)

  A wind blew through the cherry blossoms, causing the sakuras to fall to the ground.

  Simultaneously, a wind passed through the once-empty halls of Ukiyo Koukou, where Celeste was holding three books in her arms, walking somewhere.

  Miyamoto and V can do whatever they damn well please, but why the hell have I gotten roped into this?

  I went to school, graduated, went out with a party, and almost died because of it. Then meet these two nut jobs.

  Well, at least I get to see V and Miyamoto's classes. Watching those two try and teach children, especially V, will be pretty goddamn amusing.

  Before he went and disappeared for a while, V was pretty odd, but now… I once got up in the middle of the night and walked out of the tent, and I saw him just looking upon the stars, not paying attention to me at all. I knew he knew I was there, but he just continued to study the sky.

  I really shouldn’t have given his words as much weight as I did last night… Or I guess this morning. I was tired and remembering things that I didn’t want to, and being around V is incredibly grim. It's like walking around with a rotting corpse that speaks in riddles.

  Also, it's rather odd that the headmaster just allowed me in after those two brought me up.

  I don’t know why the hell V would even bring me up in the first place.

  I just don’t know.

  Some time later, we return to Yuto Hirano, about to enter military tactics.

  The young man was walking through the halls with three other boys.

  Each with odd hair colors.

  Yellow.

  Dark Green.

  And blood red.

  “"ユウト、信長先生の代わりに代理の先生が来るって聞いた？"”

  (“Yuto, you heard there's a substitute teacher for Mr. Nobunaga,” Yellow Hair said.)

  “ええ、彼は少し変わっていると聞きました。最初の数クラスの生徒たちが出てくるのを人々は見ましたが、皆痛々しそうでした。”

  (“Yeah, I heard he was a bit odd. People saw the students in the first few classes come out, and they all seemed hurt, Dark Green replied.)

  “さあ、みんな、まだ会ったこともない人を評価することはできないよ。心を開いて入ろう。もしかしたら、彼の授業があまりに素晴らしくて、みんな呆然としてしまったのかもしれないね。”

  (“Come on, guys, we can’t judge someone we haven’t even met yet. Let’s go in with an open mind. Maybe his class was so good they were all dumbfounded,” Yuto said.)

  “あなたが正しいかもしれません。”

  (“You may be right,” The two boys talking to Yuto both said.)

  “信長先生と西田先生がなぜ去ったのか、誰か知っていますか？”

  (“Does anyone know why Mr. Nobunaga and Mr. Nishida left?” Asked Yellow Hair. )

  “彼らはただ姿を消したと聞きました。自分の居室に校長宛のメモだけを残して。”

  (“I heard they just disappeared, only leaving a note in their living quarters to the headmaster,” Answered Green-Haired.)

  私たちは教室のドアまでたどり着き、中に入りました。

  私の目は最も奇妙なものに引き寄せられました。

  物がいっぱいの机自体は珍しくありませんでしたが、私が今まで見たことのないものがありました。

  二本の長い金属の管のそばに刃物があり、その管には木が使われていて、いくつか彫刻が施されていました。

  八席が埋まっており、残りはわずか四席でした。

  黒板には三行の文字があり、それぞれ異なるものが書かれていました。

  (We had made it to the door of the classroom and entered.

  My eyes were drawn to the oddest things.

  A table filled with stuff on it wasn’t odd by itself, but there were things I had never seen before.

  Blades next to two long metal tubes with wood on them and some carvings.

  Eight seats were filled, with just four seats remaining.

  And on the blackboard were three lines; different things were on the board.)

  WHAT IS MAN?

  WHAT IS DEATH?

  And the last one just says.

  WHY?

  "あなたは心を開いておくようにと言ったけれど、それは時間が経つにつれてますます難しくなってきている。"

  (“You said keep an open mind, but that's becoming harder by the second.” The blood-red-haired boy said.)

  “さあ、まだ先生にも会っていませんよ。”

  (“Come on, we still haven’t even met our teacher,” Yuto said.)

  “どうしてそんなに楽観的でいられるのか、結斗。”

  (“I don’t know how you’re so optimistic, Yuto,” Takeshi replied (the red-haired boy))

  “そして君も、悲観的なタケシ。”

  (“And you, too, pessimistic Takeshi.”)

  部屋の匂いはひどい悪臭で満ちていた。

  背の高い痩せた人が教室に入ってきた。

  彼は濃い茶色の帽子と何かしらのサングラスをかけており、目を隠していた。

  体の大部分を覆う長く、砂色のコートを着ていた。

  その下には、やや暗い青色の服を着ていた。

  彼は杖を持ち、身なりは乱れていた。

  彼が無事であることを願った。

  彼の入室とともに、教室は静まり返った。

  (The room was filled with a rather awful odor.

  A lanky person entered the classroom.

  He wore a dark brown hat and some sort of sunglasses, hiding his eyes.

  With a long, sandy-looking coat that covered most of his body.

  Underneath, he wore clothes that were somewhat dark blue.

  He held a cane and looked disheveled.

  I hope he was okay.

  With his entrance, the class fell silent.)

  “Okay, shut the hell up, class.

  I will be explaining how I’ll be running this class until you get a real teacher.

  First, the name is V.”

  (Back into my mind.)

  I guess they were already quiet, but whatever.

  Six girls.

  Six boys.

  A girl with brown hair who sat at the desk to the left raised her hand.

  “Like the letter, sir?”

  “Yes, also, and don’t call me sir.

  Second, there are no grades in this class.

  If you are competent and come to class, you get an A. Actually, you don’t even need to show up.

  I don’t give a damn.”

  A muttered flutter went through the class like the wind on a nice summer day.

  “And finally, I will never hold back on any of you ever, about anything. I will write what we will be doing on the blackboard in class today.”

  TRY.

  AND.

  KILL.

  ME.

  The same girl from earlier raised her hand once more.

  “Mr. V, what do you mean?”

  “Try and kill me.

  It's simpler.

  I want you to give me everything you've got. And I’ll do the same, but I won’t be trying to kill you.

  If I wanted to kill you all…

  I could have done it at least a hundred different ways by now.

  That's why I put all my weapons on the table.”

  The air became tense, and a few of the following students started to have the smell of fear. (Yuto thought to himself.)

  Mr. V threw off his coat onto the chair that sat behind the desk. He rolled up his sleeves and used his pointer finger to move his glass up.

  Then said.

  “First, put a protection spell over both the room and the items in it, and after that, give me everything you’ve got.

  By everything, I mean everything.

  All your fancy magic and swordplay if you're competent enough.”

  The girl who raised her hand cast the spell. This causes a thin blue layer over everything in the classroom.

  “He is… something,” Takeshi said.