Professor Grim always had a peculiar habit of roaming the corridors of the academy every morning before class. Many didn't know why, but the few who managed to ask her were actually surprised by her answer.

"It's a habit from back when I was an assassin. I used to survey the areas where my target resided before I killed them."

Back then, to account for any and all forms of unwanted variables that might disrupt the flow of her assassination, she made sure to familiarize herself with the terrain and memorize all pathways that might be used as an escape. Once she had anticipated every possibility, she would set traps to finish her job in case her target managed to flee.

With such a mindset, she had once been one of the few top-tier assassins, boasting a 99% success rate—earning the name "Grimreaper". The first four letters of that title now acted as her name.

"Day 3670. The corridor remains the same. No variables to speak of, no change—just the same old students."

Walking through the corridor with her hands behind her back and a stern look, she resembled a warden—no, an executioner—eyeing the masses for new prey. The students who unknowingly caught her gaze stiffened, their expressions darkening in fright as they hurriedly fled from her path. The teachers she passed paid her little mind.

Most were used to her antics by now, so they either ignored her or greeted her warmly. She, on the other hand, remained unaffected by their reactions. Just as the corridors of the building stayed the same, so too did the responses she evoked. Some feared her, some welcomed her, some remained neutral, and some outright hated her. Like any human—or any creature—she elicited mixed reactions, which she found preferable to no reaction at all.

With everything said and done, she was about to end her walk when a young man with luscious blonde hair blocked her path.

At first, she was confused. Her body unconsciously came to a halt, unsure how to proceed.

The young man—if she remembered correctly—was among the new recruits the principal had hired. She had done a background check on him the moment he was employed, and while he was pleasing to the eyes, there wasn't anything else noteworthy about him... Wait, there was. If she recalled correctly, she had also seen him constantly fleeing from the Sword Saint's granddaughter. She was curious about their relationship but not motivated enough to investigate further.

"Instructor..."

"Art." The young man finished for her, realizing she had forgotten his name. He seemed disappointed by such a minor oversight but quickly accepted it as normal—after all, it wasn't like he was memorable for anything except his appearance.

"Instructor Art, do you by chance need anything from me?"

Rubbing the dark circles beneath her burning eyes, she questioned him. The last she remembered, Villier was responsible for him, so perhaps he had sent Art to her for something.

Art stared at her, confused and surprised that she didn't know he was supposed to be her teaching assistant for the day.

"Actually, Professor Villier sent me to assist you today."

"Villier?"

"Yes. Something about a meeting with the association."

"I see." Nodding in understanding, she pulled the sleeves of her long coat back, her gaze fixed on the smartwatch on her right wrist.

"Was that all?"

Pushing her sleeves back into place, she waited for his response.

"Yes," Art replied, finding conversation with Professor Grim much harder than he had expected.

"I have a class at 8:00—the Knight Floor, Class A. You can meet me there when it's time."

With nothing more to say, she tried walking past him—only to be blocked once again.

"...Instructor Art."

A bit flustered, she stepped back to find the young man staring at her once more, this time with a gaze so profound that her heart pounded slightly.

With a barely audible gulp, she tried looking away—only for Art's words to follow.

"You're going on your famous walks, right?"

"...Yes."

She didn't know when this habit of hers had become famous, but yes, she was doing just that.

"Can I tag along?"

Professor Grim's once-dead expression morphed into something complicated as she hesitated, unable to respond immediately.

Did she want the young man's company?

Yes.

A walk by herself was boring and despairing—the two things that perfectly described her. She *wanted* company—someone to talk to, someone to understand her. Yet, even in this marvelous academy brimming with the most eccentric and abnormal people alive, no one filled that role for her.

The teachers were too busy with their students or chasing promotions—something she sympathized with, given she had her own students to worry about.

As for the students, there had been a few who tried to form a bond with her. But after their four years ended and they left, she never saw them again. Some forgot her because of her boring personality, while others were killed by the creatures of the Abyss when they took on the mantle of heroes. The remaining students were too scared of her to even try.

So yes, she wouldn't mind if he tagged along.

But...

"What if he thinks I'm boring?"

As always, her mind couldn't help but inject that thought. She didn't want to mess this up—not when the young man had personally asked to accompany her. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to form a bond.

Yes. She wouldn't ruin this. She no longer wanted to be called "Grim the Depressed" by her colleagues in the department.

So she would agree.

She would entertain him.

And she would not mess this chance up.

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