Classroom of The Elite x AOT: Wax Wings

Vol 1.6 - Historia is Alone

________________________________________________________________________________

I relaxed the door closed behind me, leaving it slightly open for a quick exit later when I needed to retrieve my gear. If any threat were in this house, I could slip back in unnoticed and potentially use the young lady as a hostage.

It was a simple plan, suitable for simple-minded people.

As I listened intently, I could discern several nearby presences, all seemingly nestled in their sleeping quarters. Five people in total, perhaps siblings of the individual I just left behind in the room.

Drawing from the architectural style and the birds-eye view I had before entering, I could roughly estimate the location of the records and study room. The design of the estate mirrored that of German noble family estates from the 1600s to 1700s, following a symmetrical layout.

I moved cautiously, mindful of the creaking floorboards beneath me. With about four hours until dawn, I had the luxury of time, allowing me to proceed methodically.

From what I recall, estates of this nature often housed their studies and records on the first or second floors. They might be situated on the ground floor, roughly two rooms to the left of the living room behind closed doors, or perhaps near the master bedroom...

"Found it."

My eyes locked onto a room at the end of a hallway. Approaching it, I noticed a small padlock barring entry. An inconvenience, but one that could be overcome.

Lockpicks weren't tools I enjoyed using regularly, but necessity dictated otherwise. Sometimes, the most rudimentary lockpicks proved more effective than professionally crafted ones, at least from my limited experience in the outside world.

Tools indeed made the job so much easier...

Click!

With a satisfying click, the padlock was unlocked, granting me access to what I assumed to be the study.

Creak!

The door emitted an audible creak as it swung open, prompting an inward cringe. It seemed the inhabitants spared no expense on floor renovations but for some reason refused to use some WD-40 on their door hinges.

What kind of hell is this?

The study appeared unremarkable at first glance. A scattering of books, loose papers, letters, a modest trash bin, and a solitary candle for light adorned the unassuming space. Yet, appearances could be deceiving—a lesson learned all too well with individuals like Kushida.

I gently closed the door behind me, continuing on my search for crucial documents that discussed my physical description, alleged misdeeds, and...other details.

The pursuit of truth behind these walls lacked the expected thrill. I thought it'd be more interesting. Battling Sakayanagi in chess was more fun than this. I was dissatisfied.

Uncovering the truth rested on a foundation of assumptions, a few interrogations, and the discovery of peculiar yet valuable bits of information.

However, an undeniable issue on the horizon—surveillance—or rather, the eyes constantly watching.

These confined walls were teeming with eyes. It wouldn't take long for my location to be identified, exposing me to constant threats from bounty hunters, military police, or even assassins.

I faced a resource disparity; my limited means against the government's practically infinite arsenal. While I lacked tools, they possessed dozens, if not hundreds.