Chapter 57 Lucas Morningstar [2]

Name:I Will Kill The Author Author:
As I descended the dilapidated stairs which were barely holding their own weight, I arrived at the ground where four cadets were standing in front of Nero.

Five cadets from our class were given the rank of Lieutenants, and these four were among them.

Our class, like every other class in the academy, consists of 100 cadets. A Unit is composed of 5 cadets, so we had 20 Units at our disposal.

These five cadets who were given the rank of Lieutenant had the task of managing all the 25 Units in our class.

These five people were:

William Sinoath, Anastasia Bigod, Quinn Darkstar, Grace Goodwill, and Ella Bright.

Currently, Quinn was not present here as he was gone with the reconnaissance squad.

In the novel, Grace was given the role of Strategist instead of Lieutenant. That position was filled by Elijah.

I see. I have already changed a major point of the story.

According to the plot, Elijah was supposed to help Nero on the front lines, and they would go on to develop a feeling of rivalry and friendship with each other.

But now it has changed. He didn't get the position of Lieutenant; Grace did.

Of course, she wouldn't be able to hold onto that position for too long.

Hmm? What am I planning, you ask?

Oh, nothing too bad.

After sparing the Lieutenant standing there a glance of recognition one by one, I turned to Nero and asked:

"What's up, Nero?"

The informality in my tone earned me a glare from everyone present there.

Right, he was supposed to be our Lord Commander right now.

"Ahem," clearing my throat, I corrected myself. "You summoned me, Lord Commander?"

"Lucas, the reconnaissance team contacted us. They have found a shopping district two blocks down the road. You were right. Unfortunately, class 1-C-8 has also found the location."

"So we are expecting a conflict, yes?"

"Yeah," Nero nodded his head at my words. "It's earlier than we predicted–"

"No."

"...What?"

"It's not earlier than we predicted. I counted on something like this to happen."

"You did?"

Nero's eyebrows wrinkled his face by forming a deep frown. He was finding it hard to believe my words.

But unbeknownst to him, I knew this would happen. In the novel, class 1-C-8 found the shopping district first and captured it.

After that, Nero's class had a tough time fighting for resources. But since this time I changed the plot, it was a tie.

However, there was something off. In the novel, class 1-C-8 found the shopping district area by the evening of the first day.

And right now, it was [1:46 PM]. It was afternoon. How did they find out something they were supposed to find later in the day so early?

"Yes," I disclosed. "I knew this would happen."

"So do you have a plan of action in mind?" Nero asked, genuinely curious about my response.

"I do–" before I could continue, however, someone interfered.

"I'm here!"

It was Amelia. Her hair was tied into a high ponytail and a bow was visible in her left hand.

From how her chest was puffing in and out, it was evident that she was out of breath probably from running a great distance.

The reason for that was she had gone with the reconnaissance squad.

The reconnaissance squad consisted of the six fastest cadets in our class, including Amelia, Quinn, and a girl named Janna, among others.

Their objective was to survey the surrounding area and produce a three-dimensional holographic map using the 3D analytical recording feature of their smart bracelets.

Usually field strategists do not participate in combat or carry out operations on the front lines. However, Amelia insisted that Nero allow her to go.

So of course, the poor protagonist had no choice but to let her go by making her in charge of the reconnaissance squad.

"Amelia, you are back!"

"Yes," she answered, recovering her breath. "What should we do?"

As she said that, Quinn calmly appeared from behind her and walked over to where the rest of the Lieutenants were standing.

"There's not much we can do," before Nero could answer, William chimed in with a shrug. "We have to fight them head-on."

"That would be too risky," the first one to raise an argument was Grace, of course.

"You're not suggesting we let them take control of the shopping district, are you?" Anastasia raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, we can't let them do that," Amelia added in agreement with her friend. "Our troops will be at a disadvantage if we let them do that."

"Then fighting head-on is the only option–" just when Nero was about to conclude the discussion, I spoke up.

"But how?"

Amelia turned to me. "Hmm, what do you mean by how?"

Heaving a lethargic sigh, I started speaking:

"Miss Amelia, how do you think class 1-C-8 found out about there being something like a mall or a shopping district nearby?"

"I… uh- I don't know, maybe the same way you found out? By deduction."

"Yeah, right," I couldn't help but scoff at that answer. "There aren't many as smart as you or even Lieutenant Grace in this whole academy. You think something that you both overlooked was picked up by someone from their class?"

"Are you really underestimating your enemy?" Amelia furrowed her eyebrows in ridicule. "You know one thing that every great war tactician said? Never underestimate your foe!"

"But I'm really not," I shook my head. "I'm merely speaking facts. It's unlikely that one of those fools deduced the underlying theme of this mock war and acted on it before me."

Amelia looked at me as if she was looking at a dumb person and uttered, "So it's about you – your ego? You think there's no one smarter than you?"

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. "There should be like a few on par with my intellect, but for someone to outsmart me is impossible."

Amelia simply rolled her eyes with a done expression. "You know, I thought you had started to change after you saved me during the Unit Test, but thank you for showing me you're still an egocentric brat—"

Before Amelia could go on to continue her rant, I cut her off.

"Miss Black, take a step back and think, do you really believe there is no chance that class 1-C-8 might've gotten the information about the theme of the war from somewhere else?"

"...What do you even mean by–"

Amelia stopped mid-sentence as the words I said to her started making sense in her head.

"What? What did you stop?" Nero questioned Amelia but upon getting no reply, he turned to me. "I don't understand. What are you suggesting?"

Before responding to his question, I took a moment to look at the faces of all the Lieutenants.

Quinn and Ella seemed bored out of their mind as if they couldn't care less what we were talking about.

Anastasia and William had their eyes focused on us and mouth agape from the anticipation of where this conversation was headed.

Grace, on the other hand, reacted just as I had thought. Seeing her like that made me smirk for some reason.

She didn't have a single spec of emotion on her face.

I turned my attention to Nero and replied, "I think I've made myself clear. Let's talk about this in private another time but for now, let's develop a plan to take control of the shopping district."

From the looks of it, Nero wanted to retort but he understood my hint and didn't press the matter further.

After that, we started discussing our strategies.



Slam—!

A blonde beauty in her late teens opened the terrace door that was barely hanging onto its hinges and slammed it behind her.

"What the fuck!"

She roared in frustration while walking toward the railings. "What the fuck is happening?!"

Thwack—!

She kicked the railing to blow off some of her anger as she kept screaming, "What the fuck!"

"Fuuuu!"

After a few minutes, she finally calmed down.

…Or at least she tried to but every time a certain silver-haired boy's face flashed in her head, it made her blood boil in unadulterated fury.

Grace has known Lucas since they were kids. The Goodwill family, being one of the noble families of the west, serves under the Morningstar family so it wasn't that unusual for them to see each other often.

When she was little, she used to hear a great deal of things about him.

–"Lucas is a genius."

–"He's a prodigy."

–"He will be the one to lead the west in the future."

And honestly, he deserved his reputation. The young boy was undoubtedly a prodigy. Grace could vividly recall the few times she had conversations with him during their childhood before he changed for the worse.

His mere presence used to emanate a dazzling brilliance that was awe-inspiring. He seemed untouchable, and it was evident that he would grow up to be a remarkable leader.

Unfortunately, he wasted all that talent. He became unrecognizable.

Alcohol, drugs, whores – he ruined himself with all that. To cloud his mind, he indulged himself in pleasure.

She remembers how he even made sexual advances on her too. But he couldn't touch her since the Goodwill family is a very important asset to the Morningstar family and none of them could afford to ruin their relationship with each other. So his father kept him on a tight leash.

But even then, it didn't take him long to completely lose his former self. The last straw was when he sexually assaulted one of his commoner classmates.

After that incident, he was exiled from the Morningstar house, stripped of all his authority whatsoever.

From a prodigy to a fallen genius – this was the end of Lucas Morningstar's story.

Or at least that's how it should've been!

When Grace was notified that Lucas had entered the Global Military Academy, she didn't think of it much.

After all, why would she bother herself over trash?

That was until today. Not only did Lucas snatch the position of Strategist from her, but he also deduced the existence of a traitor in their class and hinted at it openly.

It was obvious he was challenging the traitor.

"Fuuu! Fuuu!"

Taking in long deep breaths, Grace massaged her eyebrows.

"It's fine," she told herself. "He still doesn't know who's the traitor. I'm fine–"

Slam—!

Right when she was in the middle of consoling herself, the door to the terrace slammed open and Grace had to turn her attention there.

"Oh, my bad. Didn't think anyone would be here right now."

It was Lucas and he had a mischievous grin on his face.