Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 241: Complacent

The committee board room was thick with tension.

The Athenaeum’s professors who were responsible for supervising the conference sat, their expressions ranging from defensive to guilty to carefully neutral. Murmurs filled the space, hushed, urgent discussions that overlapped and tangled like threads in a knot.

"—never seen anything like that, the sheer scale of telekinesis—"

"—but the protocol failure—"

"—should have known better, she’s supposed to be—"

"—if that girl hadn’t been there, we’d all be—"

The door swung open.

Lazuardi stood in the threshold, his face carrying an expression that silenced the room instantly. He surveyed them, these adults, these scholars, these supposed guardians of the next generation... and let the quiet stretch.

"Heh." The sound was short, humorless. "You guys also got offended by the Student Council President’s words just now?"

No one answered. A few professors shifted in their seats.

Lazuardi’s gaze moved, landing on a man near the center of the table. He was middle-aged, neatly bearded, with the slightly frazzled look of someone who had spent the past hour alternating between defense and self-recrimination.

"Professor Aldric." Lazuardi’s voice was calm. Too calm. "Weren’t you supposed to be the one who managed the submitted stage presentations?"

Aldric swallowed. "Yes, Headmaster."

"What happened?" Lazuardi walked slowly toward the table, his footsteps measured. "Also dared to accept such a risky-sounding submission because you had Cecilia to manage the safety?"

Aldric’s face paled. "Headmaster, this year’s magical conference submissions were filled with talented students. Groundbreaking discoveries. The sand portal presentation was exactly the kind of innovation we want to showcase first at the Athenaeum... before it goes anywhere else. Before other academies can claim they hosted it."

"Yes." Lazuardi’s voice was flat. "You accepted it because you didn’t want it presented elsewhere first. You wanted it here, talent, groundbreaking, all of that." He paused, letting the words hang. "Then why didn’t you at least make sure it went fucking well?"

Aldric’s jaw tightened. "But Cecilia’s plans and safety measures were perfect. She reviewed everything, cross-checked every variable, accounted for every—"

SLAM!

Lazuardi’s palm struck the table with a force that made papers jump and cups rattle.

"AREN’T WE THE ADULTS HERE?!" He snapped.

The silence that followed was absolute.

Lazuardi stood over the table, his hand still pressed against the wood, his eyes blazing. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, but no less cutting.

"Even if her measures were perfect. Even if they reassured us, made us lower our guards, made us think we could just... trust and relax." He looked around the room, meeting each face in turn. "Aren’t we supposed to lend her a hand in maintaining it?"

He turned to Professor Suna, and she shrank.

The hawk-eyed woman, usually so sharp and composed, seemed to fold in on herself under his gaze. Her shoulders curved inward. Her hands gripped the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.

"And didn’t I say it was best for all of us to stand by at the conference for all three days?" Lazuardi’s voice was quiet now, somehow worse than the shouting. "Could any other problems and plans not related to the conference be discussed later?"

Suna’s mouth opened, closed, opened again. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Headmaster... I am very sorry." She looked down at the table, unable to meet his eyes. "But... if I had refused to summon you about the complaint immediately, it would have been the first time any of us refused the call of the Dawnoro Family."

Lazuardi stared at her for a long, terrible moment.

"I don’t fucking care." The words were ice. "Make him come here. Pry my student away from my arms with his own fucking hands if he wants to complain that badly."

"Headmaster."

A new voice cut through the tension. It was calm, measured, and weighted with years.

Professor Hargrave. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

The man sat at the far end of the table. His beard bristled as he spoke, but his eyes were fixed on Lazuardi with an intensity that demanded attention.

Lazuardi turned slowly to face him.

For a split second, the two men simply looked at each other. Senior to junior. Colleague to colleague.

"It’s time," Hargrave said quietly, "you told us what it is with Cecilia Araceli."

Silence.

All the professors in the room turned to look at Lazuardi. Their eyes were pointed. Expectant. Demanding.

"You’ve started treating a certain number of students with special measures." Hargrave’s voice was calm, unhurried, but each word landed like a stone in still water. "And today... one of those students just lifted an entire hall of conference attendees with telekinesis."

He paused, letting the weight of it settle.

"So. What is she, Lazuardi? And what is she to you?"

The door opened again.

Professor Ialdi stepped inside, his face drawn, carrying the weight of urgent news. The room’s attention shifted from Lazuardi to the newcomer.

"Headmaster." Ialdi’s voice was steady, but something beneath it made the professors straighten in their seats. "Dawnoro’s calling. And Miss Araceli heard of it."

Lazuardi’s eyes faltered.

Just for a moment, a flicker of something that might have been fear, might have been resignation, might have been the particular exhaustion of a man who had seen too much and could stop too little.

"She’s already on her way north."

Lazuardi stood frozen for a heartbeat. Two. Then slowly, he turned to face the room. His gaze moved from face to face. Hargrave’s steady demand, Suna’s guilty remorse, Aldric’s defensive tension, Ialdi’s worried urgency.

He looked at other pairs of eyes in turn, letting them see something shift behind his own.

"Alright." His voice was quiet, but it carried. "I’ll tell you a story."

He couldn’t stop Cecilia. The girl who had just saved everyone, who had lifted an entire hall with her will and her power and her impossible, terrifying competence. She was already gone.

Already on her way into the jaw of the northern wolf king, into whatever storm awaited her there.

"A story of a boy."

He couldn’t stop her.

But he could stand here, in this room full of professors who had failed her, failed themselves, failed the basic duty of being adults. He could stand here and wait.

Wait for her call.

When she needed it.