My name was Isree.
Isree Eleven-Eight.
I was human.
I had been trained as an assassin by the organization since I was five years old. At sixteen, I believed I had mastered a formidable array of killing techniques. However, I had yet to put any of them into practice. This was a calculated move; apparently, certain items could react to the act of murder, and my restraint was a countermeasure against them.
In short, I was an assassin created for the sole purpose of eliminating a single, specific target. That target had not yet been designated, but I wished they would hurry up and decide. My motivation was starting to feel like an engine spinning its wheels in the mud.
My current assignment was to infiltrate the Galgard Noble Academy in the Demon Kingdom’s royal capital. It was the very heart of enemy territory. Part of me wondered if this was a punishment—had they discovered I’d been making remarks about the instructor’s thinning hair? No, surely not. I was a high-ranking asset with elite skills; the organization wouldn't throw me away over a petty personal grudge.
Or so I chose to believe. I refused to think of this as an exile or a demotion. I really did.
The infiltration itself was simple enough: I just had to enroll like a normal student. Given my objectives, my life was supposed to be that of an ordinary girl. The only potential snag was my race, but I figured I could just pass myself off as the daughter of a human merchant.
To finalize the details, I went to meet the organization’s local operatives. Of the seven agents originally stationed in the capital, only three remained. Apparently, the authorities had tightened security recently. An operative’s primary duty was information gathering and supporting assassins like me, so I didn't think they’d be doing anything risky enough to get caught.
As it turned out, they had been dabbling in petty crimes on the side to earn extra pocket money. How incredibly foolish. I began to seriously doubt the quality of our personnel, though I was assured the survivors were the "competent ones." Even so, when more than half your cell gets arrested for shoplifting or whatever, it’s hard to stay confident. I decided to drop the subject.
"Is my enrollment going to be okay?" I asked. They told me it would be, and I chose to trust them.
However, the "merchant’s daughter" plan was immediately scrapped. Apparently, merchant backgrounds were scrutinized far too closely because they were so commonly used for infiltration. I had to give the Demon Kingdom credit for their vigilance. Since I wasn't particularly attached to the merchant idea, I pivoted. Using the organization's funds, I enrolled as a girl employed by a Demon Kingdom noble. Money really did make the world go 'round.
I had intended to be as inconspicuous as possible, but that turned out to be a needless worry. Three other students had enrolled who stood out far more than I ever could. They looked like ordinary children, but I decided to gather some intelligence on them just in case. Part of my job was staying prepared to move the moment the organization issued an order. I really was an excellent agent.
Before long, those conspicuous students were targeted by assassins. It seemed my organization was even cooperating with the hit. A senior operative I recognized gave it his all, but the mission was a total failure. I suppose if they had asked for my help...
No, that was just arrogance. Even I wouldn't be able to win against those children. It was impossible. There are things humans can do, and things they simply cannot. People are free to have their dreams and hopes, but I didn't want any part of them if they involved those three.
I made a firm decision to keep my distance. I wouldn't approach them. I wouldn't become their acquaintance. I even resolved that if the organization ordered me to kill them, I would go rogue. That was how dangerous they felt. I reported my stance to headquarters—properly, of course—and told them to think very carefully before making a judgment.
"Heeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyy!!"
An angry roar startled me. I spun around, only to see the sole of a boot flying toward my face. I took a full-force dropkick directly to the jaw. The impact sent me tumbling backward, rolling three times before I slammed into the wall.
"Whaddya think you're doin', you bastard?!" I snarled.
Crap. My true self slipped out. But it hurt! I couldn't help it.
As I scrambled to my feet, I saw one of those "conspicuous" students standing there. Her name was Urza. She was pointing aggressively at something on the table—the plate I had been eating from just moments ago.
We were in the academy dining hall. I hadn't done anything unusual. I’d even put up the "Finished" sign to let the staff know they could clear the table. I had no desire to tangle with these people, but I wasn't so saintly that I'd take a physical assault lying down.
"Isn't it a bit cruel to attack someone so suddenly?" I said, softening my tone back into my "student" persona while closing the distance, looking for an opening to strike back.
Wait. Why did the air behind me suddenly turn ice-cold?
I turned around and felt a wave of intense bloodlust. It was Alfred, another of the prominent students. He looked livid, and that fury was directed squarely at me. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what I’d done to offend him. Seeing my confusion, Alfred pointed at my plate.
"You left your carrots," he said. "Do you want to be killed?"
...What?
As it turned out, for Urza and Alfred, leaving food on your plate—especially carrots—was an offense punishable by death. And they enforced this rule on everyone around them, not just themselves. Forcing your personal food philosophy on others with violence... what kind of monsters were they? Not that I, a professional assassin, had much room to talk.
Regardless, I would never forget the humiliation of being pinned down while they stuffed those loathsome carrots into my mouth. One day, I would have my revenge. I knew the power gap made it impossible, but a girl had to have her pride. I’d keep trying.
Despite my vow to stay away from them, I somehow ended up being absorbed into their social circle. I wasn't entirely sure how it happened, other than the fact that Urza had taken a liking to me. I had no idea what she saw in me, but I didn't want to cause a scene by rejecting them, so I just went with the flow.
And honestly? Farm work was fun.
"Fufu... you’re growing so well. Let me harvest you."
I was currently looking over the fields.
"Urza-san, how many people are we expecting for dinner today?"
"Uncle Gratz is coming over, so they said two hundred."
"Understood."
The eggplants I was in charge of were currently at their peak. I couldn't wait to see everyone's faces when they tasted them.
I continued this peaceful, agrarian lifestyle until winter approached. I felt a twinge of sadness knowing the farming season was ending. I also had to figure out what to do for the break. While the academy stayed open, most students went home, meaning anyone left behind would stand out. My "noble employer" was just a business arrangement; they wouldn't actually let me stay at their estate.
I considered living as an adventurer for a few months, but that seemed too conspicuous. Then I thought of Menek-san, the demon with the goat's head who managed the ranch. He was always short-staffed. I’d helped him out a few times before, so I figured I’d ask him if I could work as a live-in hand for the winter.
I decided I would ask him the next day. "Action follows thought"—that was the basic rule I’d almost forgotten.
However, before I could find Menek-san, I ran into Urza-san. Or rather, she found me.
By the time the conversation was over, it had been decided: I was going to Urza-san’s family home for the winter.