The Academy’s Weakest Became A Demon-Limited Hunter

After classes, in the evening. I arrived at the hideout by cutting across Josena Forest beside the campus.

“Senior Dorothy.”

“You’re here, President.”

Dorothy, who was sitting on the roof, greeted me. She had set her witch hat aside, so her light purple hair, reflecting the sunset, stood out.

I lightly jumped up, kicked off the nearby tree, and landed on the roof. Then, I sat beside Dorothy, and we looked up at the sky together.

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes. How about you, Senior?”

“I roughly ate two whole chickens.”

“Is that what you call ‘roughly’…?”