Chapter 117

We had won the fight.

But unfortunately, that victory was stained with blood and wounds, leaving an indelible scar upon the Academy.

Since this was a world where money mattered more than human lives, let’s first talk about money.

Just how much loss had the Academy suffered due to Araya’s terror attack?

At least over ten billion Credits.

I wasn’t joking.

That amount of money was enough to shake a mid-tier megacorp, and it had evaporated in this battle.

Repairs for the destroyed defense turrets.

Reinstallation of security programs.

Repairs of the sewer system, the ground, and the Academy’s outer walls destroyed by the Outer God.

Re-purchasing thousands of androids and security robots.

Restoring collapsed interior structures.

Recovery of various lost research equipment, and more.

Even I, Crown Prince of Stingray, who had never once felt short of money, found myself speechless at such an astronomical amount.

Naturally, the sponsor companies wanted the recovery costs to be covered solely with government funds, and the government, nothing more than their lapdog, complied without protest.

Strictly speaking, corporations bore no direct responsibility for this incident.

However, there was controversy because many companies wanted to shove their heads into this Academy restoration project, which promised enormous profit.

I wasn’t sure, but I imagined even our Stingray Group was lobbying politicians and high-ranking officials to secure the contracts.

Competition in that area became so heated that some nonsense came spilling out.

—”Weren’t the defense turrets destroyed by the Stingray Foundation’s Chairman? Your side should take responsibility and cover the costs!”

Ah, really?

So I should have just sat on my hands until the entire building collapsed? If the whole 250-story building had crumbled and they had to rebuild it, wouldn’t that have been much cheaper, huh?

What absurd drivel.

I immediately buried the politician who spewed such nonsense.

He had a wife and children yet was having an affair with his homosexual lover, not to mention receiving bribes from other corporations.

I leaked all of it through our group’s media outlet.

A few months from now, he would probably have to move his residence from Sector A to somewhere like Sector D.

After realizing what happened when one spoke nonsense to the Crown Prince, the political circle grew more cautious with their words.

Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that the fool who provoked me had simply been blind to the times.

Naturally so.

[“Aaron Stingray shines with heroic action amidst the Academy crisis!”]

[“Stingray Foundation Chairman bravely steps forward at the Academy terror scene!”]

[“A savior who fought like one possessed to protect his students!”]

[“The hero and chairman who saved the Academy from a pseudo-religion!”]

Since that incident, reporters who had witnessed me fight churned out positive articles daily.

Of course, I had sent them small gifts, requesting favorable coverage.

But even outlets that received nothing from me still wrote such articles.

That meant the entire New Valhalla City was viewing my actions in a very positive light.

‘Journalistic spirit, huh.’

The ‘Outer God’ alone must have inflicted severe mental damage just by being gazed upon.

Yet some endured nausea and headaches to stubbornly witness the spectacle.

Anyway.

Thanks to that, I wasn’t held accountable for destroying the turrets or the damages caused during battle.

And so, it was decided that most of the Academy’s restoration costs would be covered by taxpayers’ money.

Bang, bang, bang.

Alright, that’s enough money talk.

Secondly, the matter of the new headmaster.

When it became known that the one behind this terror attack was Joy Bennet, a headmaster of the Minjung Faction who had connections with Ashita-kyo, the public was once again thrown into shock.

He had colluded with a mad android wizard—well, in truth, he had been controlled—and unleashed such a monster in the Academy.

Naturally, calls for punishment grew loud.

But sadly, when he was found, most of his vitality was already gone.

Though he was taken to the hospital for treatment, he soon passed away.

Cause of death: excessive bleeding from a fractured skull.

Why not simple death by exhaustion? Because the hospital’s security had been ‘coincidentally’ loosened, and an ‘unidentified’ assailant had broken in and crushed his head with a blunt weapon.

‘Coincidence, my ass.’

Upon further investigation, it turned out a parent of one of the students killed in the incident had hired a killer to avenge their child.

I couldn’t say I didn’t understand their feelings, so I quietly covered it up so their crime wouldn’t be exposed.

After all, if they hadn’t done it, I myself had been planning to bury him.

So in a way, I was simply expressing gratitude for doing the job for me.

At any rate, with the headmaster’s seat vacant, a citizen vote was held to elect a new one.

Ordinarily, as always, the Minjung Faction, the city’s largest civic group, would have nominated a candidate and won.

But just like the original protagonist had done, I timed things so that right before the vote, I exposed information proving the Minjung Faction’s leadership had been colluding with Ashita-kyo, the mastermind behind this incident.

Immediately, a large-scale investigation struck the Minjung Faction, and most of its executives ended up behind bars.

Naturally, they couldn’t exert much influence in the election, and could only watch another candidate win.

For reference, the winner was a college admissions expert who had recently gained popularity through TV appearances.

It seemed ridiculous, but in my original world, comedians had become presidents and movie stars had become governors of U.S.

states.

So why not here too?

What surprised me, however, was that the outcome aligned with the ‘original story.’ Despite the processes and timing all being different, the result had turned out the same.

‘Did the will of the world intervene once again?’

The Butterfly Effect of the Transmigrator caused countless events I hadn’t known about, yet when the major ones still flowed according to the original timeline, I couldn’t help but think some strange law was at work.

And finally.

The Academy students and the Student Council.

Because of the terror attack caused by Araya, quite a number had been injured or killed.

Since the building was enormous and filled with hidden areas, it took nearly a month just to fully recover the bodies.

At first, I thought most of them had been retrieved within a week and that we could return to normal.

But then corpses in various stages of rot kept turning up in unexpected places during class, and so the Academy was completely shut down until every missing body was found.

After almost a month of large-scale manpower being deployed to locate the last missing student, a joint funeral was held once again.

Naturally, classes hadn’t been properly conducted, so that year’s final exams were skipped altogether.

Instead, the Academy shortened summer vacation, set a plan to make up the delayed curriculum, and reopened its doors.

But right away, a new problem arose.

[“Are students’ lives worthless?”]

[“The Academy’s responsibility! Make it public!”]

[“System reform, listen to the students’ voices!”]

[“An unsafe school, it’s time for change!”]

Because of this incident, students’ dissatisfaction with the Academy grew, leading to protests and collective boycotts of classes.

Their demands were the establishment of a Student Council, expanded welfare facilities, and stronger Academy security.

Amusingly, what they argued for was exactly what I had pushed for in the earlier meeting.

Not only that, but during protests, they replayed videos of me that someone had filmed.

Though I had those videos removed from community sites, someone must have downloaded them in advance.

Among the Academy students, I had somehow gained the image of a “true educator.”

There were even a few voices insisting I should be made the new headmaster, though that nonsense quickly faded.

‘I had acted with some expectation of this outcome…’

But things lining up so neatly to my desire made me feel uneasy.

In any case, as the movement grew, the Academy and the corporations had no choice but to come up with countermeasures.

Ordinarily, they would have ignored the demands, or perhaps sown discord among the students to make them fight each other.

‘…But this incident was simply too great.’

Students had died during the Titan attack last time, and this time again, there had been no small number of sacrifices.

The accumulated dissatisfaction, combined with two major tragedies, had ignited a bomb that couldn’t be defused with mere divide-and-conquer tactics.

Even faculty, who had until now dutifully played the corporations’ loyal servants, muttered that they couldn’t work in a place like this anymore and quietly supported the students.

That said it all.

In the end, the Academy and the corporations admitted defeat and backed down.

Not because they felt guilty, but because they judged it cheaper to meet the demands than to let things grow noisier.

Thus, when the first semester’s final exams ended and summer vacation began, the students gained a promise from the Academy for the establishment of a Student Council and expanded facilities.

The third week of June.

As temperatures began to rise, election campaigns started for the Student Council President, the Tactical Combat Department Chief, and the Science & Technology Department Chief.

Surprisingly, the number of candidates wasn’t high.

Four candidates for Student Council President.

Three for Tactical Combat Department Chief.

Only two for Science & Technology Department Chief.

And among the candidates for Student Council President was our very own Iri Elisbell.

Amazingly, she declared her candidacy of her own will, before I had even suggested it, and I gladly granted her permission.

I offered to help with her campaign, but she refused, saying she wanted to try it on her own.

Apparently, plenty of people around her had already volunteered their support.

The important thing was this—she had finally begun to walk on her own.

The first week of July.

Even in this dark city drenched in constant rain, the scent of summer began to linger, and the vote was held.

One person, one vote.

The candidate with the most votes would win regardless of turnout, and the elected president would directly appoint the vice president, secretary, treasurer, and other necessary members.

As it was the first election of its kind for students, turnout reached an astonishing 95%.

And with more than half the votes in her favor—

Iri Elisbell proudly became the new Student Council President.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep