SHAMAN PROTOCOL
Chapter 111: Ghost

Chapter 111: Ghost

Mikel turned to Mister Nocty, his brows knitting at the look plastered on his homeroom teacher’s face. It wasn’t just shock—it was a mix of longing, shame, and regret.

Shifting his gaze to whatever held Mister Nocty’s attention, Mikel’s eyes landed on a group of students idling on a bench. They were laughing and chatting casually, like any group of friends would.

This is what the academy looked like decades ago?

Mikel studied the architecture and the scene around him. The layout was slightly different from the modern academy he knew. The current academy was sleeker, more sophisticated—clearly modeled after elite private institutions.

This version, by contrast, was neater, quieter, and seemed far more peaceful. It wasn’t as crowded either, though that made sense. The enrollees this year had been the highest on record.

As Mikel stood at the entrance of the school gymnasium, taking it all in, Mister Nocty suddenly stepped out. Instinctively, Mikel turned toward him and to his surprise, his teacher’s appearance began to change.

With each step, Mister Nocty grew shorter. His already lean frame became even smaller. His knitted sweater shifted into a school uniform, identical to the ones worn by the other students.

Within minutes, Mister Nocty looked younger than Mikel.

What’s going on? Why does he look smaller than Ran?

Or to be brutally honest... wimpier than Ran?

[Master, in this plane, you follow the anima’s rules. That includes the timeline you are in.]

So that means... Mister Nocty appears younger here because it’s decades ago?

[Yes. We are in his Echo.]

Mikel’s jaw tightened. He drew a short breath and stepped out of the gymnasium. Immediately, his uniform began to shift, adapting to this timeline—though his appearance remained the same.

"Huh?"

[System Notice: Since you have not yet lived in this timeline, you will appear as just another student.]

Not a baby? Or a sperm since I was not born yet?

[That is beyond the anima’s logic.]

Mikel gave a small nod, absorbing the explanation. Then he looked up, realizing that Mister Nocty was walking farther ahead. Without wasting time, he jogged after him.

"Wait, Mister—"

"Natnat!"

He slowed at the unexpected voice. Raising his brows, he turned toward its source. A girl from the group on the bench was waving cheerfully at them.

"Mister Nocty," Mikel muttered, glancing at his teacher. "This isn’t real."

Mister Nocty didn’t answer right away. For a moment, Mikel wondered if he was even conscious of what was happening—or if he had fallen into the illusion. After all, this entire anima was one massive illusion. One that could inflict real, lasting damage.

"I know," Mister Nocty finally muttered. But he didn’t stop. He kept walking—slowly—toward the students.

Doom... is he alright?

[Master, humans are foolish. Sometimes, they only see what they want to see, hear what they want to hear, and believe what they want to believe. Even when it meant to ignore the truth that’s already standing before them.]

I only asked one thing, Mikel mentally clicked his tongue as he followed.

[The human heart is a fragile thing. Everyone has ghosts that haunt them—even shamans.]

Mikel didn’t press further. Doom had avoided a direct answer, and when he did that, it usually meant the truth was more complicated than a simple yes or no. Still, if Mister Nocty had truly fallen under an illusion, Doom would’ve alerted him.

"Yo!" one of the male students called out, tilting his head. His gaze shifted between Mister Nocty and Mikel. "Natnat, where’ve you been?"

Then, looking at Mikel, he asked, "And who’s this?"

The group of five turned their eyes to Mikel with puzzlement. None of them recognized him, and with his heterochromatic eyes, they certainly would’ve remembered if they had met him.

"Uh..." Mister Nocty cleared his throat, glancing briefly at Mikel. The latter raised an eyebrow, curious to hear what his teacher would say.

"He..." Mister Nocty hesitated, then gave a small, bitter smile. "He’s a new student."

"Oh!" the cheerful girl who had called out earlier lit up. She skipped over and offered her hand. "Hello! I’m Sabel!"

She beamed brightly, her hair tied back, bangs curled over her forehead. Her extended hand was open and sincere—no malice, no hesitation.

"Mikel," he said, reaching out. But the moment he clasped her hand, Sabel gasped and jumped forth in awe, causing Mikel to lean back in surprise.

"Oh my!" she gasped, eyes sparkling. "What’s your name again?"

"...Mikel," he repeated, still confused.

Her eyes gleamed even brighter. "Wow... your voice is deep."

"No, it’s not—" he started, but stopped as she abruptly covered her mouth.

Sabel turned back to the group, pointing at Mikel like he wasn’t standing right there. "Hey! Did you hear him?!"

Mikel was stunned. He gave Mister Nocty a sidelong glance, but his teacher was too busy watching Sabel, completely absorbed in the scene playing out.

Soon, the two other girls surrounded Mikel, equally curious and animated. The two boys looked on with visible dismay and a touch of disgust.

"Tell me if you’re feeling violated," said the first guy who’d greeted Mister Nocty earlier. "I’ll kick them for you—"

Before he could finish, Sabel’s foot swung around and smacked him across the face, sending him flying.

Mikel winced. I know this is an illusion, but... damn, that must’ve hurt.

He gulped and looked around at the girls still circling him. Then his gaze landed on the second guy—the one seated on the bench’s armrest, feet up. He hadn’t said a word, just stared at Mikel intently.

"Damn you..." the first guy grunted from the ground, touching his swelling cheek. "You finally did it!"

With a growl, he slammed his palms into the grass. The lawn rippled, and suddenly, vines sprang up and coiled around Sabel, flipping her upside down. Thanks to her fast reflexes, she grabbed her skirt to prevent anything from showing what was underneath.

"You pervert!" she screamed right before a massive figure appeared beside the boy and punched him, sending him flying again.

Mikel stood frozen, watching the chaos unfold. It had escalated into a full-blown fight... and no one stopped it. In fact, the bystanders cheered and laughed, some even starting a betting pool.

This... this isn’t normal. The academy doesn’t work like this anymore.

Amid the madness, Mikel turned again to Mister Nocty. His teacher simply stood there, watching it all with a distant expression. No intention of leaving. No desire to escape.

Then, Doom’s words echoed in Mikel’s mind:

Everyone has ghosts that haunt them—even shamans.

Slowly, Mikel looked back toward the chaos.

So this... is his ghost, huh?