IGBDS 1

Chapter 1

The same damn graduation ceremony.

“Next, we will have the valedictorian speech from Knox Belgrave.”

I, too, once stood in that spot.

The distrust—how could someone like you take first place?—the looks of disapproval toward a commoner student representative.

I still remember vividly how I recited that long speech without missing a single word in that freezing atmosphere.

Perhaps because of that.

“Hello, graduates. It is an honor to stand here representing all of you…”

I could see the rest of the speech coming with my eyes closed.

How we all worked hard together, how each of us built our own memories, and how as a result we came to gather in this one place.

He’d be spouting off sentimental nonsense that was utterly unlike Knox Belgrave.

And then Professor Jacob would let out his usual thunderous sneeze.

“Achoo!”

As if on cue, I could see the students sitting in front of him scattering in all directions to avoid the spray.

And Knox Belgrave’s face scrunching up at the sight.

I wanted to laugh out loud at this little farce, but I couldn’t.

I had lived a perfectly flawless school life for today. I couldn’t throw away a year’s worth of image over something like this.

‘So please, you godforsaken school—just let me go this time…’

At last, the speech ended. Knox Belgrave, who had bowed to the audience, raised his head.

In that instant.

Just as I thought our eyes met, the world flipped over.

A red light. I knew what this terrible omen meant.

“Damn it—!”

Not the auditorium—my dorm room. The place I had returned to so many times I was sick of it.

The room, bathed in autumn sunlight, was quiet as always. A sense of helplessness forced me to my knees.

I sat there and laughed like a madman for a long while.

“Hahaha, hah! Ha… Right.”

I got up and picked up my fountain pen. Letters flew wildly across the paper.

“This godforsaken school—I’ll quit before it can kick me out.”

[Withdrawal Form]

This was my seventh regression.

When I was fifteen.

A romance novel set in an academy, depicting the fresh youth and love of students—Spring Blooming on Campus—was published and swept across the empire.

In its wake, the author’s alma mater, the private academy “Sen Tielre,” boasted record-breaking competition rates that year.

I was one of those foolish victims. Who ever said youth was beautiful?

I’d bet anything the author of Spring Blooming on Campus was the child of a high-ranking noble family.

‘Otherwise, there’s no way they could paint this life like a flower garden.’

So I gave up early and decided to just focus on studying.

Because I wanted to look like I was doing fine. Because I didn’t want to disappoint my parents who had such high expectations. Because I wanted to show off good grades to the nobles who looked down on me.

Whether it was my temperament that once I started something I had to see it through to the end, my grades came out pretty decent even here.

‘I started at the bottom in everything except alchemy, but being in the upper ranks is pretty good considering I came in without proper preparation.’

I didn’t make a single friend that way, but I didn’t regret it. After all, once I graduated and returned home, I’d never see any of them again.

And so graduation day arrived.

Having spent three years without developing any particular attachment to the school, all I could think about was getting home quickly.

Buy souvenirs for Mom and Dad, stop by my regular spot for a seven-layer king skewer, then head to the station—and the train timing would be perfect.

‘Perfect.’

Once Knox Belgrave’s valedictorian speech was over, I could finally go home.

…I thought I could. Until the world suddenly flipped and red light filled my vision.

In a flash, I was back in my dorm room.

“Huh?”

It was my first regression.

Second cycle.

I realized I had returned to about a year ago—to be exact, my eighteenth birthday.

Because in my hand was a letter from my parents asking if I wouldn’t come home for my birthday again this year.

Looking around the room, I saw an empty desk, an empty wardrobe, and luggage not yet unpacked.

Just like the first day I moved into the third-year dormitory.

“What is this?”

This wasn’t a situation that could be understood normally.

It was too vivid to be a dream, and I’d never heard of magic like this existing.

After worrying for a while, I left the room to find someone. And then I ran into someone who had no business being there.

“Knox Belgrave?”

He, who had been coming up the stairs, looked up at me blankly.

“This is the girls’ dorm.”

“I know.”

“?”

What, was he here to see someone?

Just as I was feeling a bit awkward thinking I’d stuck my nose in unnecessarily, he turned around and went back down the stairs.

His body language suggested he had no business here at all, and I was certain he’d taken a wrong turn.

That bastard definitely came up here by mistake and pretended otherwise because he was embarrassed.

I stood there dumbfounded by his shameless attitude, then came down the stairs a beat late.

The hall was still bustling with a party for last year’s graduates.

If you’ve graduated, pack your bags and go home—what’s so great about staying at school?

It was utterly incomprehensible to me.

From the bits of conversation I overheard, it seemed I was the only one who found this situation strange.

So I grabbed a piece of cake and returned to my room.

It happened to be my birthday, so I decided to treat this regression as a birthday gift.

‘Not that I ever asked for a gift like this.’

After that, I spent the entire summer vacation investigating what was going on, but found nothing.

So when the fall semester started, I just lived the way I always had. Meaning I ignored festivals and social relationships and just studied hard.

The results were excellent. By graduation, I had actually placed second!

‘If it weren’t for Belgrave, I could have aimed for first with those grades…’

A little disappointing, but what’s done is done. I decided to be satisfied with this much and quietly listened to Knox Belgrave’s speech.

Last time I’d only half-listened, but from his mouth—which I’d expected to spew nothing but irritating nonsense—came surprisingly plausible words.

The school must have written it for him, right? Everyone in the school knew that with his personality, there was no way he’d say things like that.

Still, thinking it was the last time, even his voice was somewhat tolerable.

Had my generosity grown? Whatever—this time for sure, I was going home.

I’d already packed everything so I could go straight down. Now no one could stop me!

But after the speech ended, I found myself back in my dorm room, just like always.

“Fuck.”

The third cycle began with curses.

I went straight out of the dormitory. I stood on the stairs and waited a moment, and Knox Belgrave came up.

“This is the girls’ dorm.”

“I know.”

Watching him turn around immediately with that shameless answer made me feel dizzy for some reason. A strong sense that something was very wrong washed over me.

Why did I come back?

Once was bad enough, but twice was worse. Didn’t that mean there could be a third, a fourth?

‘I need to change my approach.’

After much deliberation, I set a new goal: first place. An unfounded belief had sprouted that if I just became valedictorian, everything would be resolved.

Honestly, if my grades shot up that dramatically, wouldn’t even this nightmare end on its own, seeing my dedication?

Of course, I wasn’t in my right mind at the time.

I scrawled a name in red ink on a long cloth and hung it on the wall in front of my desk.

[Down with Knox Belgrave]

If anyone saw it they’d be horrified, but no friends would ever come into my room, so it was fine.

The more important question was how I’d take first place—something I’d missed even in the second cycle when I did nothing but study…

Facing Belgrave head-on, his wall was far too high. I decided to use any means necessary for my goal.

So the night before the theory exam, I quietly called Knox Belgrave out.