In the next few weeks that followed, Nakama started schooling. And, like any concerned parent or guardian, Gaius and Isabelle spent the first few days watching how a typical class in Kishi Gakuen was like.

It was…well, Gaius didn’t really know what to say. For one, he didn’t actually have a good reference point — the only class he had as a reference were the ones that he personally taught, and no matter how he cut it, learning to be an assassin was not “peak education”, the latest term to be in vogue around Mi-Zu and the Eastern Territories in general.

Even the kids were using it. The term was being bandied around to the point that even the discussions that were held high above the air every night had this term, which was somewhat expected, given that most of their families’ younger generation was enrolled in either Kishi Gakuen or the Institute of Rational Development in Eo-Seu.

Anyway, what ‘peak education’ referred to was how the teachers at Kishi Gakuen taught. Nakama was sorted into what the teachers called primary education, and it mainly revolved around teaching basic writing and reasoning skills. Things like math, basic history…things that Gaius himself had come across when he was in Ark City a long time ago.

That said, if the teachers here knew that somewhere in Ark City, lessons like these were taught for free…I wonder how they would feel? Their expressions should be fun to watch, at least…Gaius thought to himself as he observed the class yet again. The little boy, after one week of watching in a row, had popped into the school once in a while afterwards. None of the teachers could get used to the sight of someone the age of their older students watching from outside in an aloof manner, but even fewer could get used to the sight of him floating outside the class, sitting in a lotus position. He waved at a curious boy — a few kids had taken to the sight of him floating coolly outside the class, a point of pride that Nakama apparently wouldn’t stop boasting about.

Nakama was doing some algebra now, which was something the boy vaguely remembered about variables and a few letters of the alphabet. Gaius was sure he had completed his education back on Earth somehow, but he couldn’t help but feel a small measure of distaste when anything related to pure mathematics came up.

A set of quiet footsteps drew his attention away from the class. Nexus wasn’t with him — Gaius had made it a point to leave the sculpture in Nakama’s possession since it could bring her back to the Library of Ancients if she ever was in danger — but he didn’t need it to tell him that the young man walking towards him was Paragon Sasori.

In a break from his usual routine, the Paragon had walked over to the window after signing in the visitor’s log book. Gaius took the chance to observe him up close. There was something in his movements that made the Paragon seemed incongruous — for all his power, Paragon Sasori’s movements were awkward, reminding the boy of a man walking awkwardly on ice.

It was probably the aftereffect of trying to repress his strength, but it was this moment of weakness, combined with the fact that Gaius was just a child, that allowed to boy to discretely observe the Paragon without being detected. Other than the minute displays of clumsiness, Sasori was clearly distracted. His eyes, though fixated at the children learning, gave off the vibe that he had something else in mind.

Paragon Sasori looked at the class for another moment, and left, gliding away like a spectre.

As mysterious as usual… Gaius glanced at the departing Paragon, and felt worry assail him. He had learned enough about Mi-Zu to understand that the children of this school were more often than not the offspring of important people, like the leaders and key appointment holders of the zaibatsu.

If the Paragon actually had a child here, he would have managed to successfully deceive the information and spying apparatus of the Information Brokers, which probably deserved a placing in the Octantis Book of World Records. Rather, the way he acted had further convinced Gaius that his theory about blackmailing important people was a possible one. Coupled with Tsurugi’s parting words…well, the Paragon seemed like a rather despica— pragmatic person.

Gaius waited for a few more hours, which was mostly spent on watching children slightly younger than him rack their brains over senseless questions and flashing a thumbs up to Nakama whenever she looked at the window for help. It was a gratifying feeling, and the boy could almost taste the envy the other kids had at the fact that someone like them was not at school.

“Excuse me, err, Mister Gaius.” A voice spoke from behind him, and Gaius, still sitting in a lotus position, rotated to face the speaker.

He gestured with his right hand. “Yes? Do you need anything?”

“You’re the same age as my students here, so is it not a better idea if you were to enrol in Kishi Gakuen too, instead of watching them from the outside?” The teacher smoothed her long black hair, in what looked like a bid to calm herself when faced by an unorthodox threat.

“I am only interested in watching over my sister and nothing else,” Gaius replied. “Education is important, but it holds little relevance to me.”

“That’s not true!” The teacher, in a single sweeping motion, swept her hair backwards. “Learning the basics of education is key to navigating life in Seireiden and in general!”

“And you’re assuming that I don’t know this so-called ‘basics of education’? How impudent.”

The teacher fumed, her face darkening slightly. “But you’re making all my students wonder why you’re not in school!”

“Well, that’s your job to explain, right? Tell them whatever you like — maybe I’m someone who completed his entire education three years ago or what not.” Gaius rolled his eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

His body rotated again, and Gaius was once again staring at the ongoing class again.