Pretty bold of me to disappear after saying that I was going to fix Dal's mistake, eh? Couldn't help it, pals. The medium between me and this site malfunctioned and I couldn't write. That's also why this chapter was so short. I wrote it in a tired mess as well, so anyone with high expectations can leave them at the door.

As for Earthland's Hero of Justice readers, don't worry. I'm writing chapter 11. As well as a new chapter for most of my stories.

Anyway, your gal is back and writing.

Archer flung himself over the last bandit, his body turning upside down as he swung the pommel down onto his head. The force of the blow shattered the man's remaining aura and caused him to black out.

Landing back onto his feet, he dispelled the married blades.

Raising his hands to his waist, he closed his eyes and sighed. The final assignment given to him by Ozpin had been another relatively small time job. His objective was to apprehend some fugitive bandits for their rearrest.

But it was good, right? More criminals locked away meant a safer world. However, this assignment had two main things in common with the four he had completed beforehand.

The first thing, it was simply too easy. It didn't even make use of his abilities that Ozpin deemed to be above the average skill level of a veteran Huntsman. This was something that anyone with basic fighting skills and an aura could handle.

The second thing was pretty obvious. These assignments weren't very beneficial to the headmaster in any way.

Opening an eye, Archer spared a glance at the border of the town he had just saved. A crowd had gathered and begun cheering, shouting and screaming in excitement and gratitude. Honestly, they kind of had too in order to avoid attracting Grimm. A few of them had their scrolls out and were recording the fight and, well, him standing and doing nothing afterward.

He had no doubt that one of these if not all of the videos would find their way to his 'business partner'. In fact, due to the nature of the situation, Archer had assumed that he was being watched during all of his missions and decided to hold back for the most part. The more a dangerous and manipulating man like Ozpin underestimated him, the better.

Sighing once more, he turned to the crowd he'd have to walk through in order to leave the town.

"Well done, Archer. You're quite the fast worker to return in less than a week." Ozpin spoke with a smile. He gestured for Archer to sit in the seat across from him, but when he didn't comply he merely continued. "As promised, I had some work done and your identification has been taken care of."

Taking the ID into his hand, Archer reached to the back of his red fauld and pocketed it.

"It's pretty obvious that you have more to say, so let's cut idle chatter." Archer said, his tone sounding as it usually did in spite of his rude comment.

"My, how observant of you." Ozpin raised his mug to his lips before taking a sip. While the action was short lived, it felt as if he did it to prolong Archer's stay and test his patience in some way. Once he finished, he looked at Archer with a serious expression on his face. "You have something that I hope to see my students have one day."

Quirking a brow, Archer waited for the headmaster elaborate with mild interest.

"Even if you weren't giving it your all, I could still tell from the way you fought." Ozpin paused, waiting to see Archer's reaction which came in the form of narrowed eyes. "Despite your age, you moved- no, you live like someone who has spent most of their life in battle. Someone tired and weary, yet experienced and decisive. Not only do you know what you're going to do in a fight, you also know what your opponent is going to do and adjust accordingly. The fight plays out exactly how you want it to. It's impressive."

Archer scoffed, slightly amused at the audacity of the man in front of him. "What I have can't be taught. It's experience." He said, knowing exactly what Ozpin wanted.

"Perhaps." Ozpin replied. "But if that's the case, then how did a person your age stumble across decades worth of experience in combat? The experience itself cannot be taught, however, you can set one on the right track and let life do the rest. Your battle analysis skills would be useful for such a thing."

Archer Sighed. Ozpin had most likely sent him on assignments to figure out how he could use him, only to find that he was a little more interesting than he initially thought.

"So this is how you rope in your unfortunate employees." Archer remarked.

Ozpin smiled. "Only the special ones."

Archer frowned. Flattery would get the headmaster nowhere, especially when he considered the implication behind Ozpin's statement.

"I take it you're going to tell me that this is something along the lines of 'A once in a lifetime opportunity, especially for someone who has no current standing in the world?'"

"It seems your ability isn't limited to the battlefield." Ozpin took his mug to his lips out of habit, forgetting that there was nothing inside. An age old habit that was impossible to shake off. The act brought a little bit of joy to Archer, seeing as it brought the headmaster even just the slightest bit of misery regardless of whether or not it showed.

"It seems a deal of some sort is necessary." Ozpin began. "You'll work here for two weeks, staying in one of the empty storage houses. If you don't like working here, the pay will be enough for you to live in town until you procure another source of income. What do you say, Archer?"

Archer didn't hate the proposition, it was the one making it that he didn't like. The man clearly had ulterior motives, he wasn't really trying to hide it too much. If it were simple work, he wouldn't mind, but he had no idea what this man would be using him for.

But he would have to find out.

"Fine." Archer spoke. "Let's just get this out of the way, then." Turning around, he walked over to the elevator, pausing as he waited for it to arrive.

Once the door opened, he walked past a middle-aged man in a white suit before leaving the large room all together.

Jaune was in trouble. He didn't really plan this far ahead and now he would be found out. He would remain useless all the way until he was sent away for the crime he committed. But that wasn't the worst part of it. What would his friends think once they found out? What about his team? Pyrrha? While his display at the entrance ceremony was pretty cool, it wouldn't be a good idea to just hope to luck out and do something similar all of the time.

It wouldn't be a good idea to rely on Glynda's combat class for improvement, he'd have to have some sort of training regimen on the side... he would have to train a lot... As for the regimen, he could probably find something online and learn the basics of swordplay... Now that he thought about it, that was a bad idea. But it was also the only one. Perhaps he could mimic some of the other sword wielders as well and hope they don't notice.

Glancing down at his side where his sword usually rested, a new thought entered his mind. The worst part wouldn't be his teammates or friends finding out, it would be his family's faces when he would ultimately see them again. The damage and humiliation would either be the despair he felt as his doom approached or his strongest motivation moving forward. At the moment, he preferred the second scenario.

Sighing, his shoulders dropped as he dragged his feet across the floor of the hall. Walking always helped him think a little. But that wasn't why he was here. He was here mainly because he was hiding.

He was hiding not only from Cardin, but also his teammates. He didn't know too much about what being a leader entailed in this school, so he was mentally preparing himself to handle many of the different scenarios he had imagined happening.

Scenarios of many variety, but all of him being found out in one way or another.

It was almost funny.

He had considered the possibility that he was powerless to change his fate, but if that were so, then why would he be thinking up all of these countermeasures and excuses? Was it all to lessen the fall? To drag out this lie as long as possible?

Now that he had more to lose... He couldn't give up. He couldn't afford to. If possible, he would want to stay at Beacon. To grow into a capable Huntsman, not only for himself, but for his friends and family. He owed them that much after making such a big mistake.

"Aaaah..." He groaned. However many weeks he had left would feel pretty long as this rate. Days passed by slowly for busy people after all.

Looking up from the ground, he spotted something peculiar.

"Who are you?" Jaune asked.

A red haired man around his age stood leaning against the wall next to a staff room, his arms folded and legs crossed. He wore a red outfit that was strange even for a Huntsman in training, but honestly looked pretty cool. He looked bored, as if he were simply passing time and nothing more. Even more so when he opened an eye to glance at Jaune.

"I'm a new staff member." He said briefly before closing his eye again.

"What?" Jaune questioned. There was no way a guy his age was part of the academy's staff. "Very funny. But now that I think about it, it doesn't really matter who you are, though. We might not actually even see each other again." He added. Beacon academy was huge, another student was just part of the pile.

Uncrossing his arms, he pushed off the wall and turned to the door. "Well, I suppose you're right about the first part." He said, walking into the room. "But we're definitely going to be seeing each other for a while."

Before the red clad mystery could close the door, Jaune looked behind his figure and saw something strange.

It was a large and empty room, reinforced with bright colored, almost white metal walls. It wasn't like very many of the rooms he saw in Beacon.

He wasn't lying?

What in the world? Why did Beacon hire someone so young? What was it that caused a prestigious academy to hire someone around his age? Not only that, was he even in training? Was he already some sort of Huntsman?

That question rung over a thousand times in Jaune's head in less than a second.

This man was a perfect contrast to Jaune himself at the moment. Someone who made it to the place that he needed to be stood right in front of him. Someone who was most likely already at the finish line, whereas Jaune just barely reached past the start.

"Wait!" Jaune half shouted before the red head could close the door.

It was a sudden thought. The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them, before he could even consider the risks. It was a twinge of hope inside that drove him to ask. The hope that maybe another resource or pathway would be open to him, something to give him the strength to fight against his bleak future.

If he wasn't lying about being a staff member, then the room behind him suggested that he definitely wasn't an ordinary employee of any sort. The walls were reinforced and armored rather heavily, as if preparing for major damage in the future... Maybe, just maybe...

"What exactly do you do here?" He questioned, staring at the golden eyed man who was half behind the door already.

The man stared back for a brief second, as if assessing the Blonde before responding. "I work in conjunction with Goodwitch's class." He began. "Students who want to further sharpen their skills come to me for training and sparing. I teach battle analysis an tactics, as well as how to read your opponent better. I'm open after class as well, so students can train even during their free time."

Jaune had to hold back his surprise. Disguising a gasp as a cough, he asked further questions.

"How exactly does it work? Do I just show up, or..." He paused, waiting for the man to clarify for him.

"You make an appointment before showing up. Though, we can most likely ignore that rule once this class is readily available. You'll learn about the process in your next combat class session."

Jaune quirked a brow in confusion. "Why do you say that?"

The red head sighed. "Well, as you can imagine, Huntsman and Huntresses are prideful creatures, especially the young ones in training. Not many of them would want to be taught by someone their own age, and for the upperclassmen, someone younger than them. I'll most likely only see a handful of students in my time here."

Jaune's face contorted into a confused expression. "I don't understand. Why would anyone pass up the opportunity to improve?"

"For the both of us at least, it doesn't matter. Honestly, I couldn't care any less if no one attends."

Jaune looked at the guy in front of him with a serious expression. He felt pity for him, regardless of his overwhelmingly cynical attitude. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Archer."

Jaune stared at the ground for a moment, not even worrying about taking up Archer's time. Looking back at him, he nodded. "Don't worry, Archer, I'll definitely attend your class! And I'll make sure my team tries it out at least once! I know some other people who might want to as well!"

Turning around, Archer only spoke once more before closing the door.

"Do what you want."

Staring at the door, Jaune Had another thought enter his head.

'What in the world could possibly make someone my age turn out like that?'

Already knowing where the trashcan was, Archer tossed the apple core into it without opening his eyes, the action eliciting gasps from the two random students who were glancing his way at the time.

He sighed. Cafeteria food was always disappointing, which was why he had just the apple to begin with. If he wanted to survive in this world, he would have to look into getting his own kitchen eventually. Maybe then, he'd be able to properly relax.

As for now...

Glances were snuck and gossip was whispered.

At the end of Glynda's combat class, she announced Beacon's newest addition.

Archer.

A hands on combat trainer who could help student get closer to their full potential and teach them unique battle tactics as well. They could even show up just to spar with him, or, if they wanted, spar with another student they brought over and have Archer act as the mediator.

As expected, the students didn't take kindly to that news. None of them wanted to learn from a guy who was younger or the same age, completely unaware of the countless number that was his real age. Even the more polite and less prideful students didn't want to attend simply because they thought they would have nothing to learn from someone so young. Even though Glynda had warned against such mindsets, the students held fast to their perceptions.

Though a whole range of reasons were had, the commonality that was had between everyone was a lack of desire to learn from Archer. He wouldn't be surprised if they completely ignored the instruction she gave on how to make an appointment.

Archer, who entered the cafeteria for food and to scope out the students, was the center of attention for the awkward few minutes after the students arrived and filled the room. He even spotted glances from Jaune and some of his friends, which may have been the only friendly looks he had received. Every other expression was either neutral or sour.

Though, there was a blonde who appeared to be checking him out...

Archer sighed.

He supposed now would be good time to visit the library. Being the center of attention wasn't exactly his thing and he had the perfect excuse to escape just now. Perhaps the library would be a more fruitful experience, at the moment he had no reason to stay.

Pushing off of the wall, he turned to leave.

"Please stop..."

At the first sign of distress, his focus shifted immediately. A familiar voice could be heard, now in pain.

"That hurts..."

His trained vision found the source of the commotion right away. It was that shy rabbit faunus whom he had met in that cafe some time ago. Her ears underneath a tight grip, being tugged on repeatedly by a tall and fit brown haired first year.

Cardin Winchester.

A slacker and a delinquent with a disdain for Faunuskind. He had no redeeming factors as far as Archer knew and his skills were merely average, yet still higher than his grades.

Velvet on the other hand was an incredibly skilled and intelligent second year with almost perfect grades. She was the most honest and hard working student in Archer's opinion. If she were any less kind or patient, Cardin and his team wouldn't be standing where they were.

Archer however, was not kind, and an eternity spent as a puppet had a tendency to wear down on one's patience.

Reinforcing his entire body to its limits, he swiped a ladle from the counter and poured mana into it as well. In a skillfully quick motion, he threw the ladle at the first year before turning back around to leave the room. The act was far too fast for anyone to really notice it was him and that was exactly the way he preferred it to be.

The kitchen utensil soared through the air, the speed at which it flew was so strong that it had created a breeze powerful enough to lift some of the lunch trays that it had sailed past. Its trajectory perfect, it hit Winchester's collarbone, causing a brief and quiet crunch followed by the clanging of the ladle to echo throughout the room.

The bully let go of the bunny girl's ears, screaming in agony. Nothing broke of course, but he wouldn't be using the arm for a while. As several students around followed the trajectory of the projectile, they were both confused and surprised to find nothing.

At the scene, however, Velvet stood in place, rubbing the soreness out from her ears as she stared at a wall far off by the serving counter.