Awakening Domination System: But I'm a Slave?-Chapter 275: Still Missing! [1]

Four weeks passed, and some things changed.

Oliver stopped coming to classes. His seat remained empty, lecture after lecture, until it became just another vacant spot no one talked about.

Students whispered theories in corners—family emergency, dropped out, got sick, but no official explanation ever came.

His name stayed on the roster for the first week, then quietly disappeared.

Alaric noticed. But said nothing.

Also, the hidden room they'd found didn't stay hidden long.

Three days after that night, Academy guards conducting routine perimeter checks reported unusual essence fluctuations near the eastern maintenance corridor.

They brought in tamed beasts; hounds bred specifically for detecting concealed spaces and magical traps.

The beasts went straight to the false wall.

Within hours, the room was swarming with Academy officials, faculty investigators, and security personnel documenting everything. They found the table, the scattered and partially burned papers, evidence of recent occupancy.

What they didn't find was anything useful. No names. No clear indication of what the room had been used for or by whom. Just an old forgotten space someone had been utilizing for unknown purposes.

The investigation expanded. Staff records were reviewed. Background checks conducted. And that's when things got interesting.

Henry Drell, the maintenance supervisor submitted his resignation the morning after the room's discovery. Cited "family matters requiring his immediate return home." Gone before anyone could question him properly.

Elena followed two days later. "Accepting a position elsewhere." Clean departure, all paperwork filed correctly, nothing technically suspicious about it.

Thomas Verne from administration left at the end of the week. "Personal reasons."

Three people, all hired within the last eight months, all in positions granting access to sensitive areas. All suddenly departing within days of each other.

Too convenient to be coincidence. Too clean to prove anything.

The Academy tried. Search parties were organized, sent to the addresses listed in employment records. Found abandoned residences, forwarding information that led nowhere, dead ends at every turn.

Whoever these people really were, they'd planned their exits well.

Campus security tightened in response. More patrols, stricter monitoring of restricted areas, mandatory essence signature logging for anyone accessing archives or administrative offices after hours.

The Academy was taking the breach seriously, even if they couldn't identify exactly what had been breached.

Though life continued. Classes resumed their normal rhythm.

Students complained about assignments. The initial alarm faded into background concern, then into just another campus security measure everyone got used to.

Present Day...

Professor Jennifer Mills stood at the front of the classroom, her sharp features and sharper tongue making her one of the more demanding instructors in Silver Crown.

She was mid-lecture on essence resonance patterns, her wand tracing complex diagrams in the air that shimmered with mathematical precision.

"And when the harmonic frequency reaches critical threshold, the resulting cascade can either amplify output by a factor of three, or cause complete essence rejection. Which is why," she tapped her wand against the board for emphasis, "precision matters more than raw power. A sloppy strong mage is just a hazard waiting to happen."

Some students took notes diligently. Others struggled to keep up.

Alaric sat in his usual spot, quill moving across parchment in neat script, but his mind was only half-focused on resonance theory.

The other half was stuck on the same loop it had been caught in for weeks.

They're out there. Gathered information for months, operated right under everyone's noses. And then they just... left. Walked away clean.

Why?

That was the question that kept nagging at him. People didn't invest that much time and effort into infiltration just to abandon it the moment they were discovered. They had contingencies. Backup plans. Multiple operations running simultaneously.

Which means what they got from the Academy was enough. Or they completed whatever phase they needed to complete. Or...

"Mr. Glimor."

Alaric's attention snapped back to the present. Professor Mills was looking directly at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Since you seem to have mastered essence resonance sufficiently to ignore my lecture, perhaps you'd like to demonstrate the harmonic cascade equation on the board?"

A few students snickered. Others looked sympathetic.

But Alaric stood smoothly, moving to the board.

His mind had been elsewhere, but his hand had been taking notes automatically. He scanned what he'd written, then began working through the equation Professor Mills had been explaining.

The formula came together, complex, multi-layered, requiring precise balance. He finished and stepped back.

Professor Mills examined his work with critical eyes.

Found no errors.

"Adequate," she said, which from her was practically effusive praise. "Sit down."

Students clapped.

Alaric returned to his seat.

As the lecture continued, his mind drifted again.

They're keeping track of me. They have to be. I was getting close, found their storage, confronted Oliver. They know I'm a threat.

But they haven't made a move. No retaliation. No direct contact. Just... silence.

He'd tried following leads. Investigated the addresses Elena and the others had listed. Found nothing. Tried tracking Oliver through mutual acquaintances. But the boy had vanished completely, no forwarding information, no communication with former friends, just gone.

Like he'd never existed.

Nyra had been watching for any signs of surveillance or renewed infiltration. Found nothing obvious, though she'd reported a few instances of "essence signatures that felt wrong" in passing, always too brief to track, too subtle to confirm.

They're still here. Somewhere. Watching.

The thought should have been terrifying. Instead, it was just frustrating.

Because Alaric was used to being the one with information, with leverage, with control. And right now, he had none of those things.

He was reacting instead of acting. Responding instead of initiating.

And he hated it.

Professor Mills concluded her lecture. "Your assignment is to calculate resonance thresholds for five different essence combinations, showing your work. Due next class. Dismissed."

Students began packing up, conversations resuming.

Alaric gathered his materials slowly, mind still churning.

What am I missing? There has to be something. Some thread I haven't pulled, some connection I haven't made.

But the harder he looked, the more the picture seemed to fragment instead of clarify.

He left the classroom, heading toward the library.

If answers existed, they'd be buried in information somewhere.

He just had to find them before whatever was coming actually arrived.

And hope that when it did, he'd be ready.

Even if right now, he had no idea what he was preparing for.