A Mob Character Who Just Wants to Get Banished and Escape This Death Game vs. The Party Members Driven Mad by the Radiance of His Brilliance - Chapter 11

“…!”

The moment Isfana saw me lying on the floor, flames of fury lit up in her eyes.

“You filthy gas—get out of my way!”

She shouted, and the green mist in the lab scattered as if driven off by her very will.
Without missing a beat, she stepped into the room and barked her next order:

“You flasks over there—keep that lunatic doctor away from Mikkanen!”

“How troublesome this has become!”

Professor Alhansen growled through gritted teeth and leapt back.
A swarm of flasks rolled toward him from every corner of the lab, trying to herd him away.

But in the next moment, they were all shattered mid-air.

A massive speaker unit emerged behind Alhansen, humming with menace.

He turned a sharp glare toward Isfana.

“This is one of my creations—Weapon No.27. It scrambles faerie brains from a distance. It works just as well on humans.”

“And what exactly are you trying to prove, showing off that hunk of junk to me?”

Isfana scoffed.

Alhansen’s voice was eerily calm—like a man swallowing his fury.

“I was having a conversation with Mikkanen. You were not requested, Isfana.
If you leave now, I see no reason to harm you.”

“I don’t care how much of a fool this man is—I follow him as my superior.
If anyone is out of line, it’s you, trying to stop me from rescuing my own commander.”

Click, click—Isfana strode forward, placing herself protectively in front of me.

Alhansen blinked. His mouth hung slightly open.

“This… this doesn’t make sense. It defies logic. I can’t accept this!”

He raked his already-messy hair with both hands, his murky gaze turning toward me again.

“Why, Mikkanen!? I was simply following your request—trying to find the root of trust! Why are you doing this!?”

“…Hey, commoner. What the hell did you say to him?”

Isfana gave me a deadly glare as Alhansen raged. I awkwardly averted my eyes and mumbled:

“I-I just asked him the same thing I asked you… to help me get discharged from the military…”

“You’re an idiot beyond saving. You’d be better off dead.”

With a scornful look, Isfana dug the heel of her boot into my head.

I wasn’t into that sort of thing, but I didn’t even try to stop her. I just accepted it.
There was no excuse—I had brought this on myself.

Alhansen clenched his jaw so hard his teeth clicked together.

“D-Did you ask the other members too!?
Are you planning to leave me behind? The one person who can’t trust anyone else!?”

His thick glasses creaked. The light faded from his eyes.

“If that’s the case… then I fear I’ll no longer be able to remain sane.”

“Lab door, become my shield!”

As Alhansen whispered, Isfana’s face hardened.

The lab door flew toward them on its own, slotting itself between Alhansen and Isfana.

In the very next second—it was reduced to Swiss cheese.

Behind Alhansen, a weapon fired a round.

“This is No.35—my shotgun, strong enough to blow away even a greater faerie.
This is your final warning.
If you value your life, Isfana, step aside and let me take Mikkanen.”

“A mere scholar dares challenge me, a magical genius?
Such arrogance is almost admirable.”

Isfana grinned coldly.

Alhansen lowered his head.
From all across the lab, weapons made of iron, wood, and crystal began to emerge—his arsenal.

“No.18—Atmospheric Burn.”

As Alhansen uttered the command, the air around Isfana sizzled.
An instant later, a powerful explosion tore through the lab.

The air around her had turned red-hot—steam rising in waves.

Laser systems hidden throughout the room focused in, burning everything they touched.
A normal person would have been reduced to ash instantly.

“I’ve already commanded it: fire and wind cannot harm me.”

But a hunter doesn’t go down that easily.

Through the smoke, her coat fluttered—completely untouched.

Isfana’s face held the merciless glee of a cat toying with a cornered mouse.

“I told you, didn’t I? A scholar like you will never beat me.”

◆◆◆◆◆

“No.15! Fire on Isfana!”

At Alhansen’s command, a cupboard burst open.
A swarm of insect-sized needles flew out, their tips gleaming with what was surely poison.

They were too small and fast to be shot down.

But Isfana simply snorted in disdain.

“Trying to kill me? How disrespectful. Break.”

With just a single word, Alhansen’s weaponry collapsed.

The needle-drones twisted mid-air and snapped apart before falling harmlessly to the ground.

As Alhansen reached for another command, Isfana stepped forward.

“Enough, scholar. Let’s end this.
Kneel there quietly and shut your mouth.”

Alhansen dropped to one knee.

He could no longer even control his own body.
Defeated, he looked up at Isfana, his eyes blazing with frustration.

“You are forbidden from turning your weapons on me.
So long as you follow that order, I will allow you to speak.”

“…I believe Isfana should rot in hell.”

Professor Alhansen glared at Isfana with venom in his eyes—but the fight was already over.
Isfana responded with a soft, mocking chuckle.

“Well, for a scholar who doesn’t actually fight, you held up surprisingly well.
I, the genius of magic, will grant you some praise.”

Alhansen was indeed a leading expert in faerie studies—
When it came to understanding and killing them, he was more skilled than any of us.
But that didn’t mean he could win in a fight against a true battlefield hunter.

There was a clear difference between a scholar who built weapons in a lab, and a hunter who fought faeries face-to-face on the front lines using magic.
The outcome had been obvious from the start.

Worse still, Alhansen’s own magic was designed for intellectual breakthroughs, not for combat.
Once Isfana’s own combat-honed magic core had fully activated, Alhansen stood no chance.

“Hm.”

I felt the gas finally wearing off, and my magic core began to stir.

Able to use magic again, I pushed myself upright and expelled the lingering effects from my body.

“Thanks, Isfana. You really saved me back there.”

“This is a huge favor, commoner.
You made a genius like me lift a finger over something so trivial—there must be some repayment for that.”

She sneered at me with a teasing smile.
And while her gaze was mocking, I couldn’t deny she had saved my life—I had no comeback.

“So… what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Well… just for a bit, let me put the chain on again.
I’ve gotten addicted, that’s all! Don’t get the wrong idea!”

She muttered, blushing and fumbling over her words.

I let out a groan of disbelief, but reluctantly nodded.

Just for a moment, her face lit up in the happiest smile I’d ever seen.
Of course, it quickly returned to her usual expression of scorn.

“Professor Alhansen… first, let me apologize.
I shouldn’t have asked something like that without properly thinking it through.”

I knelt beside the professor, who still hadn’t moved from where he’d been forced to kneel.

“But even so… what you did was still too much.”

Clunk.

A heavy sound echoed beside me.

I turned—and felt a chill run down my spine.
Isfana had collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Isfana!?”

I rushed over and pulled her into my arms—thankfully, she was still breathing.

As I exhaled in relief, a shadow loomed over me.

Alhansen, freed from her magical binding, stood silently behind me.

His eyes pierced through me, devoid of sound.

“…What did you do, Professor Alhansen?”

“If you don’t want Isfana to die,” he said, “then I believe you should listen to what I have to say.”

He smiled.

Weapons slithered and crawled across the lab, stirring like restless beasts, watching us.

“Doubt—doubting your assumptions, your own knowledge—is the cornerstone of academic pursuit.
Which is why I have even begun to question whether the military can truly protect me.”

Alhansen’s voice was calm—eerily so, like all the madness had suddenly drained away.

“No.0—this is a weapon only I know of.
It is a bacterial organism embedded in the brains of every soldier stationed in Ogdanel Castle.
It activates if anyone attempts to do me irreparable harm.”

He grabbed the front of my shirt and leaned close, whispering into my ear.

His voice was cold and quiet—like Death itself.

“In other words, Mikkanen— If you refuse to cooperate, I can kill Isfana whenever I choose.
Surely you already know what your next move must be… correct?”