Justice and Evil…
They are merely hollow words, two sides of the same coin, depending on whose hand is flipping it. A nobleman might look at a thief killing a beggar with disdain, calling it a "heinous crime." But to the wretched beggar, it's just another ordinary day—one more corpse in the sewer.
Life has never been fair. Some are born with everything handed to them on a silver platter, their eyes never knowing hunger. And others? They must thank the heavens if they manage to scavenge a few scraps from someone else's feast.
As for me, I'm luckier than many. Starving to death isn't on the horizon, but I'm no prince either. I live day by day. No lofty dreams, no grand ambitions—just a blood-stained cleaver in my hand and enough coins in my pocket to avoid sleeping with an empty stomach. For me, that's already enough.
"But my family is different."
They have bigger dreams. They believe I was born to achieve greatness. How ridiculous.
"Val!"
The door burst open so violently it shook on its hinges, as if it was about to fly off. I flinched, the cleaver in my hand nearly slipping as my mother stormed into the room like an unstoppable whirlwind.
My mother—a short, slightly plump woman with a face that might generously be called "average"—was as excited as a child. Honestly, I still can't believe someone like her is my mother, especially when my father and I look so alike.
In her hand was a piece of paper that looked important. Her face was flushed, her breath quick with excitement, like a young girl. Her eyes darted between me and the paper, then back to me, as if unsure whether to speak while I was busy butchering meat.
Ugh, just say what you want already.
"What's going on?" I muttered, wiping the sweat off my forehead after chopping up a Tricetaurus carcass.
"Val!" she practically screamed, waving the paper around like it was a royal decree. "You've been accepted into the Royal Academy!"
The Royal Academy… huh?
Ugh.
I blinked at her, my voice utterly uninterested. "…Alright."
She stared at me, mouth agape as if I had just insulted ten generations of ancestors. "'Alright'? Is that all you have to say? Val, you'll be living among royalty, possibly becoming a lord! Your life will be filled with luxury. You'll bring honor and wealth to this family!"
Her voice grew higher with each word, her excitement threatening to burst through the cramped room. As for me, I just stood there, cleaver in hand, staring at the half-butchered beast on the table, feeling strangely empty.
"Yes, I heard you." I replied, slicing through the tough meat with a dull "thud," trying not to show any emotion.
To be honest, I had already guessed this might happen when I sent in the application out of obligation. At the time, it was just a gamble. Something to do for appearances.
But it seems it worked…
Tch, looks like the nobles are feeling more generous this year. Great, I suppose. Or maybe they're just looking for new entertainment.
My mother wasn't done yet. She shoved the paper right up to my face, her smile wide, her eyes sparkling with indescribable joy. "We have to throw a party! The neighbors will be so jealous when they hear the news! And your father—he'll prepare the finest cuts of meat!"
I set the cleaver down, wiping it on my blood-soaked apron. "Isn't that a bit excessive? I haven't even packed yet."
Her lips tightened, her eyes narrowing in that terrifying way only mothers can manage.
"Val, this is your chance. Do you know how long we've waited for this? This isn't just about you—it's about the entire family. You don't understand how much they'll respect us after this."
Ah, here it is. That familiar guilt. The weight of generations pressing down on my shoulders, the expectation that I'll pull the family out of mediocrity with sheer determination and a fancy uniform.
God, I don't want to get involved in politics at all.
But refusing… that's probably not an option. "Alright, Mom. I'll do my best not to get kicked out by the nobles on the first day."
She ignored the sarcasm in my tone, her smile radiant like the sun. "That's the spirit."
And just like that, she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving me alone with my chaotic thoughts.
I stared at the Tricetaurus carcass on the table, its lifeless body torn apart. The stench of blood and raw meat filled the air—a scent I had grown used to my entire life.
The Royal Academy for Nobles.
A place where the rich and powerful sharpen their swords and their inflated egos. A place where someone like me—the son of a mere butcher—will stand out like fresh blood on white snow.
My hand tightened around the cleaver's handle, stabbing into the meat with a sharp "crack."
It's just school, right? What's the worst that could happen?
"A lot."
Everything could fall apart in an instant.
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of fate pressing down on me like a thousand-pound boulder. "…Alright. I'll do it for them."
Seeing them happy is enough; I just need to do what I must. No matter what it costs.
After all, I don't think it'll be that bad. If I try hard enough, earning a noble title shouldn't be too difficult. Plus, I might get to study alongside Alice—that's probably the only bright spot in this whole mess.
"Right, I have to go so Alice doesn't end up with someone else."