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Chapter 1
If I Don’t Graduate, I Plan to Burn Down the School
A wretched graduation ceremony.
“Next, we will have the valedictorian speech from Mr. Knox Belgrave.”
I, too, once stood in that spot.
The distrust of how a wretch like you could take first place, the gazes of disapproval toward a commoner student representative.
Even now, the memory of reciting that long speech without missing a single word in that frigid atmosphere remains vivid.
Perhaps because of that.
“Hello, fellow graduates. Standing here on behalf of all of you is an honor…….”
I could recite the rest of that speech with my eyes closed.
How we all worked hard together, how each of us built our own memories, and how as a result we came to gather in this one place.
He’d be droning on with sentimental drivel that was utterly uncharacteristic of Knox Belgrave.
And then Professor Jacob would let out one of his thunderous sneezes, just like always.
“Achoo!”
As if on cue, the students sitting in front of him scattered every which way to avoid the spray.
And the sight of Knox Belgrave furrowing his brow at that.
Part of me wanted to laugh out loud at this farce, but I couldn’t.
I had lived a perfectly flawless school life for today’s sake. I couldn’t throw away a year’s worth of carefully built image over something like this.
‘So please, you godforsaken school, just let me go this time…….’
At last, the speech ended. Knox Belgrave, who had bowed to the audience, raised his head.
In that fleeting moment.
Just as I thought our eyes met, the world turned upside down.
A crimson light. I knew what this dreadful omen meant.
“Damn it……!”
Not the auditorium—my dormitory room. The place I had returned to far too many times.
The room, bathed in autumn sunlight, was as quiet as ever. A wave of helplessness dropped me to the floor.
I sat there and laughed like a madman for a long while.
“Hahaha, hah! Ha…… Right.”
I got up and picked up my fountain pen. Letters flew wildly across the paper.
“You godforsaken school, I’ll quit before you can screw me over.”
[Letter of Withdrawal]
This was my seventh regression.
* * *
When I was fifteen.
A romance novel set in an academy, depicting the fresh youth and love of students, <Spring Blooming on Campus>, was published and swept across the empire.
In its wake, the author’s alma mater—the private academy ‘Sainte Elle’—saw record-breaking competition rates that year.
I was one of those foolish sacrifices. Who ever said youth was beautiful?
I’d bet anything that the author of <Spring Blooming on Campus> was from a high-ranking noble family.
‘Otherwise, there’s no way they could have painted this life like a flower garden.’
So I gave up early and decided to just focus on studying.
Because I wanted to look like I was doing fine. Because I didn’t want to disappoint my parents who had such high expectations.
Because I wanted to flaunt good grades in the faces of the nobles who looked down on me.
Whether it was my nature of having to see things through once I started, it showed even here—my grades came out fairly decent.
‘Except for alchemy, I started from the bottom in everything, but being in the upper ranks is pretty good for someone who came in with no proper education.’
I didn’t make a single friend doing so, but I didn’t regret it. After all, once I graduated and returned home, I’d never see any of them again.
And so graduation day arrived.
Having spent three years without forming any particular attachment to the school, all I could think about was getting home quickly.
Buy a souvenir for Mom and Dad, stop by my regular spot for a seven-tier king skewer, then head to the station and the train timing would be just right.
‘Perfect.’
Once Knox Belgrave’s valedictorian speech was over, I could finally go home.
……Or so I thought. Until the world suddenly flipped and crimson light filled my vision.
In the blink of an eye, I was back in my dormitory room.
“Huh?”
My first regression.
Second cycle.
I realized I had returned to about a year ago—to be precise, my 18th birthday.
Because in my hand was a letter from my parents asking if I wouldn’t come home this birthday either.
The room around me had an empty desk and wardrobe, with belongings not yet fully unpacked.
Just like the first day I moved into the third-year dormitory.
“What is this?”
This wasn’t a situation that could be understood normally.
It was too vivid to be a dream, and I’d never heard of such magic existing.
After much deliberation, I left the room to find someone. And then I ran into someone who had no business being there.
“Knox Belgrave?”
He, who had been coming up the stairs, looked up at me silently.
“This is the girls’ dormitory.”
“I know.”
“?”
What is this, is he here to see someone?
Just as I was feeling slightly embarrassed for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong, he turned around and went back down the stairs.
His movements were so devoid of any lingering attachment that I was certain he’d taken a wrong turn.
This guy definitely went up the wrong way and was too embarrassed to admit it, so he pretended to know what he was doing.
I stood there dumbfounded by his brazen attitude, then came down the stairs a step late.
The hall still had a party in full swing for last year’s graduates.
If you’ve graduated, pack your bags and go home—what’s so great about still being at school?
That was something I simply could not understand.
From overhearing passing conversations, it seemed I was the only one who found this situation strange.
So I grabbed a piece of cake and returned to my room.
It happened to be my birthday, so I decided to just consider this regression a birthday present.
‘Not that I ever asked for it.’
After that, I spent the entire summer vacation investigating what was going on, but found nothing of note.
So once the fall semester began, I just lived the way I had been. Meaning I ignored festivals and social relationships and just focused on studying.
The results were excellent. By graduation, I had risen all the way to second place!
‘If it weren’t for Belgrave, I could have aimed for first place with those grades…….’
A bit disappointing, but what’s done is done. I decided to be satisfied with this much and quietly listened to Knox Belgrave’s speech.
Last time I’d only half-listened, but from his mouth—which I’d expected to spew nothing but irritating nonsense—came surprisingly reasonable words.
The school must have written it for him, right? Everyone in school knows there’s no way someone with his personality would say something like that.
Still, thinking it was the last time, even his voice was somewhat bearable.
Had my generosity grown? Whatever—I was definitely going home this time.
I’d even packed all my bags to leave right away. Now no one could stop me!
However, after the speech ended, I found myself back in my dormitory room without fail.
“XX.”
The third cycle began with profanity.
I went straight out of the dormitory. I stood on the stairs and waited a moment, and Knox Belgrave came up.
“This is the girls’ dormitory.”
“I know.”
Looking at him turn away immediately with that shameless answer made me feel dizzy for some reason. A strong sense that something was terribly wrong washed over me.
Why did I come back?
Once is already a problem, but twice is even more of a problem. If this keeps up, doesn’t that mean there could be a third, a fourth?
‘I need to change my approach.’
After much deliberation, I set a new goal: becoming valedictorian. A baseless belief had sprouted that if I just became first, everything would be resolved.
Honestly, if my grades shot up that dramatically, wouldn’t even this nightmare end on its own out of appreciation for my effort?
Of course, I wasn’t exactly in my right mind at the time.
I scrawled a name in red ink on a long cloth and hung it on the wall in front of my desk.
[Down with Knox Belgrave]
If anyone saw it they’d be horrified, but I had no friends who’d ever enter my room, so it was fine.
More important was the question of how I was supposed to take first place when I’d missed it even in the second cycle where I did nothing but study……
A fair and square fight against Belgrave was against too high a wall. I decided to use any means necessary to achieve my goal.
So on the night before the theory exam, I quietly called Knox Belgrave out.
