Re:Zero - Starting Life in Another World as a Skeleton

Chapter 236 236: The Submission of Duty

Across the town of Orlando, within the halls of the Evernight Academy.

The morning sun filtered through the classroom windows, casting long, golden

bars across the desks. Amy sat by the glass, the nib of her pen absentmindedly

gouging tiny craters into her scratch paper. Her mind was a chaotic static,

refusing to anchor itself to the text before her.

Subconsciously, her gaze drifted toward the back of the classroom.

Thomas, Jack, and Colin were slumped over their desks, snoring with such abandon

that they were nearly drooling on their local history scrolls.

Amy pulled her gaze back, staring at her own stained fingertips. Her head

throbbed with the weight of the morning's gossip. The "Most Wanted" fugitive in

the sewers. The massive sweep by the Punishment Legion. The reports that the

search yielded nothing.

So... Big Sister Lia... has she truly departed?

"Amy Green."

At the lectern, the young instructor called her name with a practiced, gentle

patience.

Amy jolted. She stood up so abruptly that the legs of her chair shrieked against

the stone floor. "Present!"

"Answer the prompt on the board, please."

Amy blinked, looking up at the blackboard covered in sharp, white chalk script.

A farmer possesses fifteen chickens. He sells one-third of the flock. How many

remain?

Her mind was a void. Not because the arithmetic was beyond her, but because she

hadn't processed a single word of the lecture.

"Five... five chickens?" she whispered tentatively.

A wave of snickering rippled through the room. The instructor shook her head,

her tone remaining soft but pointed. "Think again, Amy. If he sells a third, how

many did he lose? And how many are left in the pen?"

Amy's face flushed a vivid, humiliated crimson. She bit her lip, forcing her

brain to engage the kinetic chain of the problem. Fifteen divided by three is

five. Fifteen minus five is...

"Ten remain."

"Excellent. You may sit," the instructor nodded. "Try to keep your focus

anchored to the lesson next time."

Amy sat, burying her face so low it nearly touched the wood of the desk. The sun

outside was high now, the light a blinding glare. Two more bells until she could

head to the sewers.

What if she's still there? What if she's waiting for me?

The wait was a slow, agonizing grind. Finally, the dismissal bell tolled. Amy

snatched her reed basket and was the first to burst through the classroom doors.

She navigated the streets of Orlando with the practiced ease of a local

harvester, darting through the crowds. She performed her rounds, knocking on

doors to collect the scraps.

"Excuse me, do you have any wilted greens for disposal?" "Any bread crusts for

the harvest, sir?" "Thank you, ma'am!"

To every resident who opened their door, Amy offered a wide, bright smile. The

townsfolk knew her well—the diligent girl working to support her household. They

often slipped her an extra piece of fruit or patted her head with encouraging

words.

"Such a responsible child." "Working so hard at her age. A credit to the

Empire." "Is your mother's fever breaking, little one?"

Amy thanked them with a bob of her head, but the knot of unease in her stomach

only tightened. Her basket was soon overflowing with the refuse of the town's

kitchens. Hoisting the heavy load, she broke into a sprint toward the sewer

entrance. Her breathing turned into jagged gasps as she plunged into the

familiar dark.

In the damp tunnels, the slimes undulated as they always did. The light of her

oil lamp danced across the walls. Amy sprinted toward the junction where she and

Lia had spent their nights.

It was empty.

The small wooden stool was gone. The shadows were vacant.

Amy stood in the center of the tunnel, her lantern trembling in her grip. "Big

Sister Lia?"

Her voice was a tiny, fragile thing, instantly swallowed by the vast, echoing

silence of the underground. She drew a jagged breath and shouted into the dark.

"BIG SISTER LIA!"

The only response was the soft, rhythmic plop of a slime leaping into a puddle.

Amy bit her lip, fighting the surge of emotion. She paced the length of the

channel several times, checking every alcove and every recessed pipe where a

person might hide.

Nothing.

She was truly gone.

Amy sank into a crouch, dumping the basket of scraps into the water. The slimes

swarmed the food with mindless hunger. Amy watched them, her eyes stinging.

"Slime, oh slime, so round and neat..." she hummed her song, trying to distract

her brain from the hollow ache in her chest. "I bring you scraps and things to

eat..."

Her voice trailed off, turning thick with a heavy, nasal congestion. She

couldn't finish the verse. Tears blurred her vision, threatening to spill over.

Amy took a sharp breath, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

No. I will not weep. Big Sister said tears only show people where to strike.

They make you weak.

She forced herself into a state of clinical calm, focusing on the harvest. One

slime, two, three...

She waited until the slimes had divided for a second time before she began to

bag the babies. She found herself drifting, her eyes constantly snapping back to

the empty corner. She expected, at any micro-second, for that silver-haired

silhouette to emerge from the gloom and announce her return in that flat,

unreadable tone.

But the dark remained silent.

Eventually, Amy hauled her half-empty bag of slimes out of the exit. The setting

sun stretched her shadow into a long, lonely needle against the dirt.

The next day. Evernight Academy.

The instructor closed her heavy textbook and signaled the end of the period.

"That concludes our session for today." Her gaze swept the room before settling

on Amy. "Amy, please assist me by collecting yesterday's journals."

Amy blinked, then stood. "Yes, Instructor."

She took the wooden collection bin and began her circuit from the front row. One

by one, her classmates deposited their homework. Amy reached the final row.

Thomas, Jack, and Colin.

The three remained slumped over, using feigned sleep as a tactical defense

against the instructor's gaze. Amy stood before their desks, her voice as flat

as she could manage.

"Your journals."

She was ignored.

"Thomas. Jack. Colin. Submit your work."

Thomas lifted his head, his eyes narrowed with a petty, biting malice. "Didn't

do it."

"Reason for non-completion?" Amy asked.

Jack looked up, his tone a sharp jab. "None of your business, Slime-Girl."

Amy's grip on the bin tightened. Her heart rate accelerated. She took a

steadying breath, the rhythm Lia had taught her. "The Instructor requires the

submission."

"And we said we don't have it," Thomas sneered, looking down at her from his

height. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Go on, run and tell," Colin muttered. "It's the only thing you're good at.

Tattletale."

Amy's hands were shaking. But she didn't retreat. She looked Thomas directly in

the eye, her violet-tinged gaze mirroring the steel she had seen in the sewers.

"I shall report the data to the Instructor with total accuracy."

Amy turned her back on them, marching toward the lectern. Behind her, the boys

hissed a low-tier threat.

"You're dead." "Wait until after school."

Amy didn't look back. She set the bin on the lectern and looked up at the

instructor. "Instructor, Thomas, Jack, and Colin have failed to submit their

journals."

The instructor, who had been reviewing her schedule, stiffened. Her expression

turned stern. "Them again?" She looked toward the back row. "Thomas. Jack.

Colin. Front and center."

The three boys trudged forward, their heads bowed in a performance of mock

contrition.

"Reason for the missing work?"

"Forgot," Thomas muttered, his voice lacking conviction.

"Forgot?" The instructor's voice sharpened. "For the third time this month?"

"We really did," Jack tried to lie.

"Then perhaps a week of sanitation duty in the latrines will help your memory

process information more effectively," the instructor said coldly, pointing

toward the door. "Go. Now."

The boys' faces twisted into masks of resentment. As Thomas passed Amy, he shot

her a look of pure, unadulterated venom.

Amy felt her chest tighten. But she remained where she was, refusing to flinch.

Once the boys had exited, the instructor knelt to Amy's level. She patted Amy's

head. "Well done, Amy. Integrity is a vital attribute. Never abandon what is

correct simply because of fear."

She slipped a peppermint candy into Amy's palm. "A reward for your diligence."

"Thank you, Instructor."

After school.

Amy performed her rounds as usual, her reed basket swinging at her side as she

headed toward the sewer entrance. She knew Big Sister Lia likely wouldn't be

there. But she had to look.

What if? What if she had returned?

The twilight sun bathed the town in a sea of gold. Amy hummed her tune, her

steps possessing a new, defiant rhythm.

"Slime, oh slime, so round and neat..."

As she reached the mouth of the tunnel, three familiar silhouettes blocked her

path once more.

☆☆☆

-> 20 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!

-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn

(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)

If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you