In this Second Chance at Life, where I can see skills as clear as day, everything feels like a breeze. And to make it even better, I’m spending my days joyfully with my First Love. - Chapter 49

The vocational training school has implemented new courses starting this year, the year we advance to high school. Although it feels less like a promotion and more like a natural progression since there were no formal entrance exams, we’ve essentially moved up the ladder in an escalator system.

The two new courses offered are the Adventurer Track and the Police Track.

The Adventurer Track primarily focuses on training individuals for dungeon exploration, development, and conquest as a career. On a global scale, I can confidently say there’s no one who has explored or conquered more dungeons than I have.

No one else holds the authority of a Dungeon Master, can generate items from dungeons, summon monsters, or repurpose dungeon spaces into functional areas like training grounds. As far as I know, I’m the only person capable of such feats.

Even if someone else exists, I’m undeniably ahead of the curve. Considering I already found nothing of value to learn during middle school’s vocational studies, there’s nothing the Adventurer Track can teach me now.

Then there’s the other option.

“Yasushi Sashima, would you consider enrolling in the Police Track?”

Sumida, the Police Commissioner, who has retained his position for the past two and a half years, visited my house—a small building adjacent to the vocational school campus. Now, he stood at my doorstep, bowing deeply as he made his request.

“Umm, Ichika…”

“Commissioner, Yasushi says you can raise your head.”

It was incredibly awkward to see someone who is likely twice my age—and the head of the entire national police force—bowing to me. But his request for me to join the Police Track was even more awkward.

“Well then, I suppose I could choose the Police Track—”

“To be honest, I’m not very interested.”

“What? Then maybe the Adventurer Track—”

That wasn’t my plan either. Sure, I’ve received formal letters from various government officials, including the Ministers of Defense, Environment, and Internal Affairs, urging me to choose the Adventurer Track. Some even suggested I consider taking on a teaching role.

But honestly, even in my previous life, I found high school students to be obnoxious. While my current body is sixteen, my mind is far older, and I doubt students would take me seriously as a teacher.

Even if they did listen, I have no desire to teach in the first place.

I had planned to use the same argument I had in middle school: “There’s nothing left for me to learn.” Coupled with a bit of intimidation, I intended to negotiate my way out of attending, just as I had with vocational studies before.

But when someone as high-ranking as the Police Commissioner goes out of his way to visit me personally and bows deeply, I can’t help but feel there must be an important reason behind his request. At the very least, I figured hearing him out wouldn’t hurt.

After all, he’s the one who made it possible for me and Ichika to live together.

“Well, then… this isn’t the best place to talk. Please come inside. I’m willing to hear you out.”

In our living room, Sumida sat on the sofa, facing Ichika, who sat across the table. Meanwhile, I stood behind Ichika, occasionally peeking out to listen.

With my ever-increasing stats, controlling my Intimidation skill has only become harder, which is why I tried to keep some distance.

“First, let me ask: are you familiar with an organization called Cherished Star?”

Cherished Star? Never heard of it. My confused expression must have been obvious.

“It’s a terrorist group that believes those with useful professions, like Warriors or Mages, should dominate and govern those with the Villager profession,” Ichika explained, as concise as ever.

“Well put. In short, yes. They’re a terrorist organization. But Cherished Star is just one example. Over the years, we’ve seen a steady rise in crimes involving the abuse of professions and skills.

“The primary issue is that it’s incredibly difficult for the police to apprehend these individuals.”

That made sense. Professions and skills often grant powers far beyond that of firearms. It’s no surprise that some people would be tempted to misuse such power for personal gain.

Since I rarely watch TV—and avoid the kind of sensationalist news about celebrity scandals that tends to dominate the airwaves—I hadn’t realized how bad things had gotten.

Still, if that’s the case…

“Well, considering the current trend, it’s not surprising. Nowadays, even ordinary people can level up by exploring dungeons.

“For example, a frontline profession like Warrior can reach level 10 and gain a body so resilient that bullets can’t pierce it. Meanwhile, not every police officer has the time or resources to train in dungeons and level up.”

Sumida nodded gravely, acknowledging the reality of the situation. The rise in dungeon accessibility had created a disparity that traditional law enforcement struggled to address.

But why me? And what exactly was he hoping I’d agree to? I knew I had to keep listening to find out.

In the past, everyone was level 1, but nowadays, you occasionally see people on the streets with levels higher than that. Within our school, aside from Ichika and me, the highest level is Komei, who’s level 22.

“That’s right. And roughly half of the police force is composed of ‘Villager’ professions. When it comes to apprehending individuals with combat-oriented professions who are at level 10 or higher, their strength is often insufficient,” Sumida explained.

“Ah, I see. So, you want someone strong, like me, to help apprehend criminals who use their professions or skills for illegal purposes?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

It made sense. A level 10 combat professional is as strong compared to a level 1 Villager as an adult is to a newborn.

Moreover, crimes often occur in populated areas, so law enforcement needs to subdue criminals while minimizing collateral damage. That means they need someone with strength far surpassing that of the criminals.

In short, the proposal was for me to use my Magical Intimidation or Magical Press abilities to subdue criminals who were beyond the police’s capabilities.

Additionally, the very act of demonstrating my ability to subdue such individuals would serve as a deterrent to potential offenders.

Honestly, I don’t particularly enjoy the idea of dealing with criminals, but subduing them would be easy for me.

Improving public safety in the country is generally a good thing, and if it’s only once a month, I wouldn’t mind cooperating. However…

“Couldn’t you simply outsource the task of subduing criminals through separate contracts without requiring me to enroll in the Police Track?”

Ichika voiced the question I had in mind.

Realistically, wouldn’t it be easier to put out bounties or hire adventurers to handle the more problematic criminals?

“There are several difficulties with that approach,” Sumida began, his tone heavy. “First, offering bounties tends to attract people who are reckless, resulting in unnecessary casualties.

“Second—and this primarily concerns groups like Cherished Star—there have been numerous cases where individuals sent to apprehend them end up being swayed by their ideology and defecting to their side.”

Sumida sighed, a look of frustration crossing his face, and I had to admit it made sense.

Most people capable of taking on such criminals would themselves hold non-Villager professions. It wasn’t hard to imagine some of them being seduced by the notion of Villagers being ruled by those with superior professions—especially those inclined to involve themselves in such dangerous affairs in the first place.

“Additionally, from a deterrence standpoint, it’s far more effective for the police to be the ones apprehending these criminals,” Sumida continued.

Ah, so it’s also about preserving the police force’s credibility.

I could understand the logic. There weren’t many options available to them, so they were reaching out to me for assistance.

“Well, if that’s the situation, I suppose I could cooperate.”

I glanced at Ichika, seeking her opinion through a quick exchange of eye contact. She nodded, as if to say, If you’re okay with it, then I’m okay with it.

As always, her unwavering support in my decisions meant a lot to me.

“However, I do have some conditions. They’re not particularly demanding, but there are two main points.

“First, I’ll only accept one job per month. Second, if I decide I want to quit, I can quit whenever I like.

“Additionally, I may decline jobs that I don’t want to take on, or I might even withdraw from a job partway through. I will, of course, explain my reasons, but I need you to accept this as part of the agreement.”

In other words, even if it’s once a month, I won’t accept jobs that require weeks of my time. If dealing with criminals becomes too stressful, I’ll stop. And if there’s a case I don’t want to get involved in, I’ll pull out immediately.

I don’t want to become a police officer, nor am I volunteering out of a sense of duty. I have no intention of bearing such a heavy responsibility.

If these terms weren’t acceptable, I simply wouldn’t agree to cooperate at all.

“…Understood. That’s more than enough. Thank you,” Sumida said with a deep bow before taking his leave.

His gratitude felt almost excessive, but I suppose it showed just how desperate the situation had become.

Support