Again.
Ethan held himself back from facepalming.
Ever since he took over this body, every word that left his mouth always sounded cold and sharp.
Especially after gaining the original owner's memories, his tendency to act cynical felt like an instinctual habit.
From across the room, Axel glared at him.
At least now, Ethan could somewhat understand his deep-seated resentment.
"Take your seat, Mr. Hudford."
Ethan nodded respectfully and sat beside Phil.
As expected, the man with the wolf-cut hairstyle leaned in slightly, whispering curiously.
"Where have you been, my lord? We were worried."
"You think I'd run away like a coward?"
"N-no, it's just—"
Mr. Hughes cleared his throat.
"On this bright and wonderful afternoon, I received reports of troublemakers causing a disturbance. As the one seemingly responsible for starting this mess, do you have anything to say in your defense, Mr. Blaze?"
Axel flinched, caught off guard by being addressed first. However, given his mentally older age, he quickly regained his composure.
"Yes, I do, and it's not a defense. Let me explain—I'm not the one who started this chaos. They did. They provoked me! Isn't it only natural that when a fire breaks out, you should look for the one who lit the flames, not the one trapped inside?"
Mr. Hughes nodded.
"I've heard about that as well. So, what exactly provoked you?"
"What provoked me?"
Axel gritted his teeth, scanning the room as if debating whether to reveal the truth.
"He said… my father was a deserter."
"Was your father a soldier, Mr. Blaze?"
"Yes, and not just any soldier! The Battle of Brickwater Bay, the Dark Bells Conquest, the Intercontinental War—he was in all of them! He even led the mission to eliminate the Storm Dragon, Vaerion."
Axel's voice burned with pride as he listed his father's achievements.
"Calling him a deserter isn't just slander; it's a betrayal of knightly honor."
Mr. Hughes jotted something down in his notes, then turned to Ethan.
"Is this true, Mr. Hudford?"
Ethan sighed.
"Everything he just said is a lie, sir—"
"You're still going on with that?"
"Mr. Blaze."
Mr. Hughes shot Axel a sharp look.
"That's twice now. There won't be another warning."
Axel clicked his tongue, clenching his fists in frustration. Mr. Hughes gestured for Ethan to continue.
"All the battles he mentioned were major events that determined the empire's survival. Hearing someone boast about them so recklessly makes me sick."
Ethan heard Axel scoff, barely holding back another retort.
Given Mr. Hughes' warning, it was impressive he managed to restrain himself at all.
"You keep calling it a lie, but do you have any proof to back up your claim?"
"Isn't the fact that all he has is some flimsy testimony enough?"
Mr. Hughes still looked unsatisfied. Ethan exhaled slowly.
Looks like I really have to bring this out.
"Here."
Ethan placed a square bronze medal on the table for everyone to see.
"I know because I witnessed it myself. Before coming here, I was a member of the 32nd Metaphysical Regiment during the Dark Bells Conquest."
Axel's jaw dropped. Ethan's two lackeys smirked, their expressions a mix of pride and disbelief.
Ethan understood their reaction.
Because the truth was—
The Dark Bells Conquest happened nearly a decade ago.
Ethan was currently 17. That meant he would have been just seven years old when he supposedly stepped onto the battlefield.
It sounded impossible.
And it was.
In reality, the original Ethan Hudford had never fought in any war. He had simply found the medal by accident while rummaging through his pocket.
Based on his memories, it had belonged to his beloved older brother, who had passed away.
So, whatever he said next would be pure improvisation.
Back when he was Park Minjae, negotiation had never been his strong suit. One of the reasons he often got scolded was his inability to retain customers, let alone increase sales.
But Ethan Hudford was a different person.
Even with just his presence alone, he could make people believe in him.
Swallowing his nerves, Ethan watched as Mr. Hughes picked up the medal, inspecting it carefully.
"What was your rank at the time?"
"I left the military when I was 15. Back then, I was still a cadet."
"So, let me get this straight. Because you were in the same battle and never saw him there, you assume he wasn't present? Or is it possible you simply didn't recognize him?"
Wait.
Something about that felt off.
Ethan even heard a soft chuckle from one of the discipline committee members.
"My father was a high-ranking officer. He had a complete record of every soldier's name—150,000 names. I spent countless nights searching through that list, and the name Pascal Blaze never appeared. Unless, of course, he used a different name."
Axel's fury reignited, burning even brighter than before.
After all, in this kingdom, falsifying one's identity was just as disgraceful as desertion.
"That sounds like an abuse of power, Mr. Hudford."
Ethan nearly choked.
Damn. I screwed up.
Before he could think of a way to backtrack, Mr. Hughes cut in.
"Mr. Blaze, do you have anything to dispute?"
"Yes. Everything. He's lying and making things up."
Ethan couldn't resist jumping in.
"I can bring the name list here and go through it with you, Blaze."
"And who's to say it hasn't been tampered with, Officer's Son?"
"Look who's throwing around baseless accusations now. And you talk about knightly honor, tch."
"What did you just say, you bastard—"
Mr. Hughes snapped his fingers.
Instantly, both Ethan and Axel's mouths clamped shut.
Not just closed—completely sealed. Axel couldn't move his lips at all, as if they'd been glued.
Even more so this time.
"Did I not say there wouldn't be another warning?"
Mr. Hughes calmly continued writing in his notes.
"From what I've heard, neither of you have any legally valid proof to support your claims."
"As for Mr. Blaze's violation, it would typically warrant solitary confinement. However, since no serious injuries were reported and the provocation was rather weak, I will classify this as a mere fight."
Finishing his notes, Mr. Hughes glanced back and forth between the two silenced boys.
"You will be suspended for at least three days and placed under special supervision by a disciplinary committee member for the following seven days."
Phil Collins tried to protest.
"B-but, Mr. Hughes, isn't that—"
SMACK.
Mr. Hughes shut his book with a loud slap.
"This case is closed."