Librarian of the Void

7: The Public Ranking Board

Leo ran until the restricted collection was behind three locked doors and one very confused security camera.

He stopped beside the vending machines on the second floor, bent over, and tried to remember how breathing was supposed to work.

The grey book was under his shirt.

It had not burned him. It had not spoken. It had not grown teeth. Still, Leo did not trust it enough to carry it openly, so he had wrapped it in an old library cloth and pushed it beneath his uniform jacket.

His phone buzzed.

Claire: Where are you? Professor Ruth is asking for you again.

Leo typed a reply while still trying not to die from stairs.

- I had an emergency.

- What kind?

He looked down at the book hidden under his jacket.

- Shelf-related.

There was a pause.

- You are the worst liar I know.

Leo slid the phone into his pocket.

That was unfair. He was not the worst liar he knew. He had once met a second-year student who claimed he had missed class because a gate opened inside his bathroom. The student had been holding a monster tooth when he said it.

Leo returned to the library before Professor Ruth could send somebody after him. The grey book remained hidden in his locker, wrapped beneath a stack of old inventory sheets. He spent the rest of his shift shelving books and pretending his hands were not shaking.

Nothing attacked him.

No black cards appeared.

The cold shelf stayed normal.

That almost made everything worse.

Leo spent the rest of the shift wondering whether the grey book was still in his locker or whether it had decided to grow legs and follow him. He checked twice during the night. Both times, it was wrapped beneath the inventory sheets exactly where he had left it.

That did not make him feel better.

He also tried searching the academy network from his phone. The result was the same as before: no Librarian of the Void, no Threadstep, and no useful explanation for a black card that could burn without heat. Leo finally gave up when his battery reached twelve percent. Even supernatural investigations required charging cables.

The next morning, the academy’s central plaza was crowded around the public ranking board. A giant screen had been installed beside the fountain, displaying the names and classes of every student who had awakened during the ceremony.

Students pushed toward it, trying to take pictures before the list changed.

Leo stood near the back with a cup of cheap coffee.

His own name appeared in the last section.

Leo — Librarian of the Void — Unclassified.

Below it was a small grey label.

Combat evaluation: Pending.

He stared at the screen.

"They put you under support classes," Claire said beside him.

"I am support. I support the general idea of not getting involved."

"You are also under the student who awakened a plant-growing class."

Leo looked at the ranking.

The student above him had received Medicinal Gardener, Rank E.

"Plants are useful."

"You are not even pretending to be upset."

"I am saving the upset for later. It will be more dramatic if I schedule it."

Claire folded her arms. She had a defensive support class and was ranked in the middle of the list. It was not a flashy position, but she seemed satisfied. Claire liked numbers when they had clear meanings. Leo thought that was a little strange, but he respected it.

A group of students pushed past them.

Hannah was at the front of it, staring at the ranking board with a furious expression. Her class, Iron Vanguard, was ranked second among the first-year awakenings. The top place belonged to a boy with a rare sword class and a family name that had appeared in at least three academy advertisements.

"Why is combat evaluation pending for support classes?" Hannah asked.

A senior student wearing an academy assistant badge shrugged. "The board uses recorded field value. Your class had a recognised entry. His did not."

"Then the board is incomplete."

"The board is official."

"Those are not the same thing."

Leo took another drink of coffee and nearly swallowed the lid.

Hannah turned toward the sound. Her eyes landed on him.

"You are the librarian, right?"

"Part-time librarian. Full-time victim of administrative decisions."

"What does your class do?"

Leo glanced at the ranking board. "Apparently, it makes me stand near plants."

A few students laughed.

Hannah did not.

"That is not an answer."

"It is the most accurate answer I have."

The senior student pointed at the board. "If the class has no combat function, it has no reason to be ranked higher."

Hannah looked ready to argue again, but Leo lifted his coffee cup slightly.

"It is fine," he said. "I am not planning to fight the ranking board. It looks strong."

The senior student smirked.

Owen stood a few steps behind him, listening.

Leo recognised him from the awakening ceremony. Tactical Analyst. The class had received a high rating despite not being directly offensive. Owen had neat dark hair, a calm expression, and the irritating posture of somebody who always knew where his hands were supposed to be.

He looked at Leo’s name for a long moment.

"Your class description is incomplete," Owen said.

Leo turned toward him. "Thank you for noticing. I was worried nobody would."

"Incomplete classes are rare. The System usually assigns a function before the ceremony ends."

"Mine assigned a function. It is probably judging books."

"I checked the public records. There are no previous entries for Librarian of the Void."

Leo’s grip tightened around the coffee cup.

He kept his face lazy.

"Maybe I am the first one. Congratulations to me."

Owen’s gaze stayed on him. "Or the class is not new. It is unrecognised. Those are different things."

"You should tell the ranking board. It looks like it could use a hobby."

The bell rang before Owen could answer.

The conversation around the board continued as students moved away. Leo caught fragments about sponsorship interviews, team invitations, and the danger of accepting an untested class. One student said Leo should transfer to a normal library. Another suggested that the academy had awakened a janitor by mistake.

Leo pretended not to hear them. He was good at pretending. The problem was that the grey book beneath his jacket seemed to make every insult land harder. Yesterday, he could have laughed at being ordinary. Now ordinary felt like a cover he had chosen, and he was not certain how long it would hold.

Students began moving toward their first practical assessments. Hannah gave Leo one last look before following the crowd. Claire waited beside him.

"You knew something was strange," she said.

"I know many things are strange. The cafeteria calls its grey soup stew."

"Leo."

He looked at her.

Claire’s expression had softened. She was not asking about the soup.

Leo wanted to tell her about the hidden door. He wanted to say that a second library existed inside the academy, that a book had been labelled corrupted, and that a black card had shown him a skill with no owner.

Instead, he smiled.

"I am going to the assessment. If I fail, you can pretend you never knew me."

"I already considered it."

They entered the training hall.

A new System window appeared in front of Leo.

[Class evaluation begins in 10 minutes.]

[Combat function: None detected.]

[Hidden function: Locked.]

[Recommendation: Do not reveal unverified information.]

Leo stopped walking.

The System had never given him a recommendation before.

He read the line again.

Do not reveal unverified information.

He looked across the hall.

Owen was already watching him.