Chapter 6 Rui
Rui
With her friends off on their mission, Rui took her boredom out on the Simulator. She cycled through various training programs,
pushing her body to the limit. Hours later, exhausted but feeling much better, she made her way to the library, the mystery
of her father’s adolescent years spinning in her head. His denial only fueled her determination to find concrete evidence
that he had attended the Academy at some point. But her initial database searches brought up zero results.
She scowled at the computer screen, picturing the photographs in her mind again. Everyone in them was dressed in Xingshan
uniforms, and they were standing in front of the research building. Parts of that building had been renovated, and a new wing
had been added, but she recognized the old clock tower. Her father, standing in the back row . . . the boy next to him. They
both wore the kind of secretive smirk you saw on people who knew they were different. That they were special. Even without the second photograph showing the two of them as young men, Rui could tell they were close friends.
Looking directly for her father didn’t work. Would finding someone else who had a connection to him help? She typed another
name.
Song Liming.
Dozens upon dozens of headlines flashed on-screen: write-ups in the school magazine, assorted media clippings, photographs
taken at sporting events and various school activities . . . It wasn’t surprising. Song Liming was the most famous cadet ever
to graduate from the Academy. Liming’s resemblance to his younger son was uncanny. Almost as if Rui was looking at what Yiran’s
life would have been if he’d had magic from the start. Anxious that Yiran wouldn’t pick up and even more afraid that he would, she had chickened out on calling him earlier, but life had a way of reminding her of his existence.
A quick skim through the new search results revealed nothing about the connection between Liming and Matthias. Her eyes narrowed
at the screen as another thought struck her. Everything was digitized now. If someone didn’t want something in the system,
they’d just leave it out. But why would anyone want to do that?
“Yearbooks,” she muttered, getting out of her chair. Evidence of the photograph in front of the research building had to exist somewhere in physical form. If she could math out the correct year of her father’s enrollment at the Academy, she
could dig up the right yearbook, and the photograph might be in one of them.
Getting permission to access the archival records was another matter. The librarian was nice enough, but she hemmed and hawed,
eventually agreeing to process the request if Rui filled out a bunch of forms.
Rui slid the paperwork back. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, my dear,” the woman replied warmly. “I’ll let you know if your request gets approved.” She seemed to want to say
more.
“Is there anything else you need me to do?”
“Oh, no, no . . . I just—” The librarian reached over and patted Rui’s hand. “Thank you for everything. Breaks my heart that
you’re all so young and yet we ask so much of you. Children shouldn’t be fighting monsters. I wish I could do more to help.”
Rui flushed. The librarian wasn’t an Exorcist. Her spiritual energy was higher than a normie’s, but it wasn’t high enough
for her to practice at that level. She’d probably attended an academy-affiliated school instead, one that didn’t train their
students in combat. Rui wondered if her own newfound celebrity had contributed to the librarian’s reaction. Ada had seen a
few holographic photo cards of Rui on sale alongside the Captains of the Guild. Rui would’ve been amused if the whole thing
hadn’t been premised on a lie.
It was late when she left the library, and the main cafeteria was closed.
She’d have to make do with instant ramen and throw in frozen vegetables for some semblance of nutrition.
She buttoned her coat and put on the bright pink beanie that Ada had foisted on her so often it was practically hers now.
The ends of her hair stuck out under it, curling up.
Maybe it was time to grow it out for a change.
Keep it long the way she used to. Like Lei Ying.
Rui changed her mind immediately. She wasn’t switching up her hairstyle because of some random woman she’d dreamed about.
Her phone buzzed.
When she picked up, a smooth baritone voice said, “I heard you’re back on campus. Aren’t you still on medical leave?”
“Ash? I’m not going home—”
“It’s Captain Song. Stay on campus. I’m on my way to pick you up.”
“Ohhhh-kay. Want to tell me why?”
“Put on your street clothes. Something black. No loud colors.”
“I don’t wear loud colors.”
“Front gate. Ten minutes.”
The line went dead.
Rui mock-saluted to the empty courtyard. “Yes, Captain.”
Annoyed as she was, it was clearly an order. Had something happened during her friends’ assignment tonight? Or was Ash bringing
her on a secret mission? Excitement thrilled down to her fingertips. She was finally going to see some action. Picking up her pace, she hurried
to her dorm to change.