Festival Night (1)

The day has dawned.

The exam period was over, and there was a holiday over the weekend, a perfect time to relax.

And the students of the Academy were using this time to discuss the upcoming festival.

The festival planning committee decided that each class or club should come up with a concept for the festival, which was also the case for the students of the newspaper club Ryukeion.

Dolores, the student council president and the club's leader, nodded.

"Our club is doing a haunted house and a bar, right?"

Halloween in the Empire falls in late summer.

It was the perfect excuse to celebrate, especially since they had just been released from a grueling exam.

"Well, then, let's decide in advance which ghost you're going to dress up as."

At Tudor's words, the first, second, and third years all nodded.

Then. Bianca spoke up.

"But 'the tradition', is it still in effect this time?"

Bianca's words brought everyone's eyes together.

There was no one who didn't understand what she was saying.

At the Academy, men always disguise themselves as women and women as men during festivals.

It's a time-honored tradition that even the professors can't escape.

Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, Bianca, Sinclair, and all the other members of the class had an idea.

"So we'll have the men dress up as female ghosts and the women as male ghosts."

"Right. That's right, we'll dress up as ghosts and switch genders."

"But are there separate female ghosts and male ghosts?"

"No, there's no such thing as a female ghost and a male ghost, you just switch genders while wearing the ghost costume. For example, there are female zombies and male zombies."

"And then we can serve drinks or meals as them!"

"Okay, so let's draw lots for which ghost we'll each dress up as."

"Okay, let's draw lots for freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors."

"That's a good idea, since each grade has a different number and gender ratio."

Next, the members drew a lot from the box.

Tudor was the first to draw a lot.

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.

The scraps of paper in the box brushed against his fingertips.

He had to be careful, because if he picked the wrong lot, he could be stuffed into black history.

"Please give me the one that's okay...."

Tudor closed his eyes, prayed, and grabbed the scrap of paper.

He unfolded the tightly folded lot to reveal the concept of the ghost.

.

"Ah, this will do, and I don't particularly care what gender."

With black armor and a bloody sword, anyone can dress up as a Death Knight, regardless of gender.

Tudor had kept his blue eyes and blond hair intact, and he'd simply added long hair.

It was a handsome look, but as with his previous cross-dressing trials, the lines were bold and the look didn't quite work.

Next, Sancho drew his lot.

As a warrior who grew up on the frozen soil of the north, Sancho got the concept of a ghost with a cold image.

"Ugh. I don't like this role."

Unlike roles such as zombies and vampires, the Snow Maiden is a role that definitely requires cross-dressing, which is not good for men.

When the makeup was applied to his muscular body, Tudor burst out laughing.

"Isn't it an ice golem, not a snow maiden?"

"Hahahaha- Let It Go, buddy."

Everyone laughed hilariously at Sancho's unsuccessful attempt at cross-dressing.

Fortunately, Sancho didn't seem to mind cross-dressing.

After all, he firmly believes that cross-dressing is something that only men can do, so it's a manly act.

After that, Piggy also drew a lot.

Piggy is now able to show off his tiny, cute appearance to the fullest.

With the wings on his back, he looks like a real fairy.

Next up was Bianca.

Bianca has stitches all over her body and nails in her hair.

Her mustache was a bonus.

She was naturally tall and attractive and androgynous, so this makeup suited her perfectly.

"Okay, next up is...."

Bianca turned her head to see Sinclair standing there.

However, Sinclair seemed to have something else in mind.

"You know, I've been working on a costume."

"Really? What is it?"

Bianca's eyes widened. She hadn't expected Sinclair to be so enthusiastic about dressing up for Halloween.

Next, Sinclair opened her bag and pulled out the costume she'd brought.

It was a single, giant spider with clumsy sewing.

On top of her head was a tiny crown.

"Ta-da- It's the Spider Queen. how is it?"

"Ohhh. I didn't realize you liked spiders so much. By the way, didn't you scream like crazy the other day when a spider came out of the bathroom?"

"Yeah, did I? I remember it well... Anyway, I love spiders!"

Bianca can only shake her head at Sinclair's almost apologetic tone.

And then.

Everyone's eyes moved toward the same spot.

The one person whose turn it was to draw lots.

"...."

A tired-looking Vikir stood up from his seat.

Drat.

Everyone swallowed hard from the tension as Vikir's chair was pushed back.

For some reason, what Vikir would choose was of considerable interest to the entire academy.

There were already reporters from the Cold Class with cameras ready to capture the mana screen.

Tudor, Sancho, and Piggy murmured with envious glances.

"I heard there was a line from first years to fourth years lined up to take part in dressing up Vikir?"

"I heard that even the Imperial Palace's makeup artists have formally applied to the Academy."

"Apparently, the Empire's most prestigious magazines are paying big bucks for Vikir's cross-dressing photos."

Of course, all of these outside approaches were dismissed out of hand in the interest of protecting the Academy's students.

Professor Morg Banshee, in a fit of irritation, rejected all applications and requests for interviews.

Next. Vikir's lot was revealed.

A ghost with a perfect female concept. It is a role that requires a delicate and complete makeup like the Snow Queen.

If any male student had picked this lot, the audience would have burst into laughter.

Just like Sancho did once.

But.

"...."

"...."

"...."

No one in the room laughed at Vikir's role.

Instead, there was a strange sense of unidentifiable anticipation in the room.

Soon, a witch's costume was thrust in front of Vikir.

A black hat, a black cloak, a tattered broom, and long, black false nails.

It was a witchy look, ready to cast forbidden black magic at a moment's notice.

But the quality of the witch's outfit was already the focus of attention.

The girls who had been assigned to make up Vikir's face had a blank look on their faces.

"Wow, it's really a waste to watch it alone."

"... is he really a guy, right?"

"This mana screen is going to be a big hit in tomorrow's newspaper."

Amidst the chatter, Vikir's brow furrowed slightly.

White skin, a sharp nose, blood-red lips, and eyelashes so long they could have fallen as snow.

With makeup on, Vikir looked pretty, like a face not of this world.

So much so that the boys watching were confused about his gender identity.

It's no wonder that the native tribes of the Depth Black Mountain started a war of aggression after learning of Vikir's appearance.

... However, Vikir himself was uncomfortable with these reactions.

'This never happened in my previous life.'

Before his regression, Vikir was more used to being looked at with disdain.

He was much shorter and thinner-boned than he is now, and a childhood injury had left him with a limp.

His face was scarred with knife marks and burns from his various missions.

The sight of Vikir's face made girls his own age, as well as younger and older women, cry or run away.

Of course, the younger, prettier ladies of the academy wouldn't even deal with him.

They would give him disdainful glances or even spit on him. They would throw away anything he happened to touch.

They even avoided being in the same room together, not wanting to breathe the same air.

Of course, as a hunting dog, Vikir was trained to be completely emotionless, so he wasn't hurt by any of this.

However.

In this life, he ate well, grew taller, and didn't have a single scar on his face.

This was quite a change from what he had expected, and it was not easy for Vikir to adjust.

"...hmm."

Vikir furrowed his brow once, and the room erupted into an uproar.

"Vikir, why, what's wrong, just tell me!"

"Are you thirsty? Are you hungry? Are you stuffy? Are you uncomfortable somewhere? Can I get you something to drink?"

"Are your clothes too tight? Should I loosen the corset on your back? Are your high heels the right size? Are your toes hurting?"

"Are the eyelashes too heavy? Are these your original eyelashes? Is the makeup too dark? Are you feeling stuffy? Should I lighten the makeup and make sure your skin doesn't have any blemishes? Ugh...."

"Isn't it too sunny by the window? I'll cover it with my back!"

"By the way, do you have a sister, does she look like you, and if so, can I call you brother-in-law?"

"Hey, this is a big deal. Everyone, block behind me, If this face leaks, it will at least be stampede!"

"But are you a witch or an angel? You look like one."

"Oh, Rune, this is the face I'll be wearing to confession tonight... Please forgive this lustful lamb...."

Just then.

"Huh!"

A startled whistling noise was heard from the other side of the club room.

Everyone, who had been focusing on Vikir's face, turned their heads to see a third year student holding a box of lots, his face white as a sheet.

Standing there was Dolores, who had just plucked a lot.

"...."

She looked at the lot in her hand with a thoughtful expression.

The part Dolores was to play at this festival.

The words were written inside the swallow.