Chapter 43: Half-Elf
After agreeing with Amelia von Braveheart to investigate students and teachers suspected of involvement in the mysterious disappearances of several students, we wasted no time and began our operation the very next day.
Amelia and I focused on monitoring the students who were believed to have some connection to the case. Most of them were senior students. For weeks, we observed their behavior, disguised ourselves to tail them, and even eavesdropped on their conversations. Despite our relentless efforts, nothing suspicious came to light, so we gradually eliminated them from our list of suspects.
Eventually, it was time for us to split up and act independently. I took responsibility for observing Instructor Morgan and Aisha, a half-elf who happened to be Milly’s friend. I attended every one of Morgan’s classes and kept a close watch on his movements at night. However, when I failed to find any incriminating evidence against him, I shifted my focus to Aisha.
Aisha’s routine soon became familiar to me. After school, she often dedicated her time to rigorous athletic training. In the evenings, she would go for long jogs, and in the mornings, she was a regular sight, running laps around the campus track. It was clear she took her fitness seriously. Her physique reflected her dedication—athletic and, uh... highly admirable. Yes, purely admirable.
One thing became obvious to me during my surveillance: Aisha was captivating. Her long pink hair framed her sharp elven ears perfectly, and her cheerful energy seemed infectious to everyone around her. She didn’t come across as someone who would dabble in Dark Magic or involve herself with demons.
In fact, she reminded me of those radiant isekai heroines you’d find leading a tribal village or inspiring an entire kingdom with her charisma. But I couldn’t ignore the stark contrast between her present self and the time she slapped me. Back then, her flustered, embarrassed, and utterly furious demeanor had been seared into my memory—my cheek still tingled with phantom pain every time I thought about it.
One evening, as part of my surveillance, I decided to shadow her on her usual jog. Disguised as just another jogger, I maintained a safe distance behind her, blending in with the environment. At first, everything seemed normal—her steady rhythm and measured breathing showed her focus. Then, without warning, she picked up her pace. Something felt off. I matched her speed, keeping up with her every step.
Before I knew it, the situation escalated into an unspoken race. Aisha was fast—much faster than I had anticipated. Her lithe frame practically glided across the ground, but there was no way I would back down. I pushed myself harder, determined to stay on her tail.
Suddenly, she yelled, "Nooo! Someone’s chasing me! A pervert! Help!"
Her scream struck me like a thunderbolt. What?! How did things escalate to this?
"Hey! I’m not a pervert! Stop running and listen to me!" I shouted, trying to clear up the misunderstanding.