Chapter 13

　　I went to the academy. I spent almost the entire morning in Monster Theory class dozing and only woke up when it was lunchtime.

　　“…Hey, Kim Yusin.”

　　Han Yoonjeong, walking beside me, spoke with a frown. “What’s with you lately? You used to be so driven, and now you’re snoring in class?”

　　“…I was snoring?”

　　“Yes! Do you know how many times I had to wake you?”

　　I scratched my head, a little embarrassed. I wasn’t usually a snorer, but the fatigue from clearing the trial must have hit me all at once.

　　“Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

　　“Hah, why? What are you doing at night?”

　　Instead of answering, I gave her a cryptic smile. Yoonjeong flinched, then glared at me with contempt.

　　“…Ugh, seriously, so gross this early in the morning.”

　　“I haven’t said anything.”

　　“Just shut up. You were a pain this morning, so you’re buying lunch.”

　　We entered the student cafeteria, ordered our food, and found an empty table.

　　“What did you get?”

　　“Is there anything to eat here besides the pork cutlet?”

　　“True.”

　　She nodded and tapped her shoulders tiredly. I sat across from her and glanced around. People who had been stealing glances at me quickly looked away. What was their problem? Just then, Yoonjeong let out a small sigh.

　　“I can really feel how much your stock has risen. It’s making me tired, too.”

　　“Did something happen?”

　　“Don’t even ask. Because of what happened in Mana Studies, kids keep coming up to me, asking what the secret is, how you did it. I don’t know why they keep asking me.”

　　I could imagine. “And you’re not curious about the secret?”

　　“Not really,” she replied bitterly. “Even if you told me, I wouldn’t be able to do it anyway.”

　　Her self-esteem seemed to have taken a hit lately. She was the one who had celebrated my change more genuinely than anyone, but her friend from the bottom had suddenly shot up on his own after his Unique Ability changed. Her feelings had to be complicated. I quickly changed the subject before the mood soured.

　　“Anyway, I have something to ask you.”

　　“What is it?”

　　“Do you know a first-year named Jin Bora?”

　　Jin Bora. She was the first person who came to mind when I thought of potion brewing. I had seen her status window once with my old detection ability, and it had been so impressive that the memory was still vivid. I predicted her Unique Ability would have excellent synergy with potion brewing. After a moment of thought, Yoonjeong clapped her hands.

　　“Oh! That first-year in the student council! Why? Are you interested?”

　　“I just have some personal business with her.”

　　“How boring,” she muttered, leaning back in her chair. “To be honest, I only know her name. We’ve just exchanged greetings a few times, so I don’t know her well.”

　　“Well, can’t be helped then.”

　　“But her reputation among the girls isn’t very good.”

　　“…Why?”

　　Yoonjeong gave a mysterious smile. “It’s not right to gossip here. You’ll have to find out the rest for yourself.”

* * *

　　After a quick lunch, Yoonjeong and I parted ways for different classes. I had some time to kill and was heading to the library when a voice barked my name.

　　“Kim Yusin!”

　　I ran into a guy I could recognize from a mile away by his tall frame and hair caked with pomade.

　　“Oh, if it isn’t the class rep.”

　　“Who do you think you are to be talking to me so casually? Have some respect.”

　　But we were the same age. The obnoxious guy’s name was Shinwook Go, the second-year student representative. He had two friends trailing him like minions, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember their names.

　　“What is it.”

　　“…You’ve been slacking off a bit lately, haven’t you?” He spat on the ground and came closer. I was pretty sure he was the one slacking off. Actually, there was a reason he was being so openly hostile. This school was a little special.

　　“I’m busy, so I’ll get straight to the point. I heard you applied for the early graduation exam?”

　　“Yeah.”

　　“You say that so casually. Who do you think you are, applying for that exam?”

　　So that’s what this was about. I knew it would blow up eventually, but this was faster than I expected.

　　“As far as I know, anyone is eligible.”

　　“Even so, it’s not an exam for some nobody to crawl into! You’re on the verge of failing, let alone graduating. What gives you the nerve?”

　　The early graduation exam. It allowed you to pass all four years of the academy’s curriculum and immediately receive a diploma and a hunter license. The test was always personal combat, and there were only five spots. Because of that, it had become customary for only the most skilled and well-known students to apply. The chances of an ordinary student passing by luck were almost zero.

　　“Let’s be blunt. What have you ever accomplished at this school?” he said, annoyed. “A second-year loser with nothing to his name applies, and I immediately get pressure from above! I’m the one getting chewed out for not managing the students properly!”

　　“Are you still getting beaten up by the upperclassmen?”

　　Shin-wook flared up and was about to charge, but his friends hurriedly held him back, muttering about how he should calm down and what a guy on his way out would know. Only then did he reluctantly swallow his anger.

　　This was like some cheap sitcom. Annoying. I should just get to the point.

　　“Cancel your application while I’m asking nicely. A guy without the qualifications has no business…”

　　“Then you can test me,” I cut in.

　　“…What?”

　　“See for yourself whether I’m qualified or not.”

　　Shinwook’s eyes turned bloodshot. “Are you serious right now?”

　　“It’s cleaner for both of us, isn’t it?” I pointed a finger at the gymnasium. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

　　The Hunter Academy I attend is one of the strangest schools on Earth. For starters, the fact that it was founded by the President of the Korean Hunter Association—a woman known as the craziest person on the planet—practically screams danger. The founding purpose itself is actually quite plausible. In the early days of the Overlay, before the concept of a hunter was fully established, young people who weren’t scouted by guilds acted as freelancers and recklessly hunted monsters.

　　The resulting youth mortality rate became a social problem, prompting the Association President to establish an academy to manage new players. The academy not only trains pro hunters but also forms student parties and sends them directly into dungeons. It’s less a school and more a hunter guild that also handles education.

　　So far, so good. The problem is the academy’s ethos: absolute meritocracy. Here, skill is everything. The fact that the current student council president is a first-year says it all. Benefits and dungeon opportunities are distributed based on skill, and the discrimination is blatant.

　　There’s even a Duel system, established to clarify the students’ power levels. Simply put, students can fight each other to take their opponent’s privileges and positions. It’s a system that openly encourages cutthroat competition.

　　Of course, this system caused countless controversies. Reporters tried to make an issue of it, claiming an educational institution was creating private armies and causing psychological trauma for low-achieving students. But each time, the wild Association President shut them down with a single phrase: “It’s my school, built with my money. Why are you all making a fuss?”

　　In an era where hunters were military power, her authority was absolute. In the end, thanks to her unyielding stubbornness, the academy’s insane system remains. As a result, dueling has become a culture, and guilds looking to recruit pay close attention to students’ duel records. The system has more or less established itself.

　　Shinwook and I were now in the gymnasium, warming up for that very duel. The academy’s vast grounds had over ten sports facilities, all of them equipped for duels.

　　“Don’t come crying to me later,” he smirked, putting on his mana suit. “How are you going to fight with an ability that just lets you see status windows?”

　　“He’s just crazy, that’s what,” one of his minions chimed in.

　　I ignored their bullshit and examined Shin-wook’s status window.

　　Name: Go Shinwook

　　Unique Ability: Rotational Acceleration

　　Personal Traits: [Fighting Spirit Lv.3], [Mobile Squad Lv.2], [Excessive Greed Lv.2]

　　Main Stats: [Strength 48], [Magic 35], [Agility 29], [Stamina 25]

　　Special Stats: [Intimidation 2], [Resistance 1]

　　Total Stats: [140]

　　He’s got some skill, at least.

　　As the second-year class representative in a meritocratic academy, he had to be one of the top-tier students in our year. If I could just beat him, I’d pretty much have the second-years under my thumb.

　　“Hey, Yusin.”

　　Now fully clad in his mana suit, he approached me. “For this duel, I’m betting my position as class rep and all the privileges and sponsorships I receive. Shouldn’t you bet something too?”

　　“Sure. What should it be?”

　　The corners of his mouth curled up. “How about this: you don’t come to school tomorrow?”

　　Look at this guy. He must know about my recent unexcused absences.

　　“That’s basically expulsion if I lose.”

　　He just sneered without answering. Fine, I’ll give him what he wants.

　　“Let’s just make it clean and bet my enrollment.”

　　“Khahaha! What’s gotten into you? Have you really given up on life?”

　　Just then, a staff member approached, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “So, you’ve reached an agreement?”

　　“Yes.”

　　“Yep.”

　　Since fights between kids could get heated, a duel was only valid if supervised by a staff member. On a large screen on the wall, our student ID photos and mana suit durability were displayed. The rule was simple: the first person to reduce the suit’s durability to zero wins.

　　“Both of you, spread out. Yeah, stop there. You’ve heard the rules a million times, right? We’ll start right away.”

　　The staff member operated the signal. A loud Beeeep signaled the start of the duel. The moment it began, Shinwook unleashed his suppressed glee.

　　“Muahaha! There’s no backing out now! I’ll make you regret this, Kim Yusin!”

　　The weapon he pulled out was a chakram with a hollow center. As he hooked it on his finger and began to spin it, the rotation accelerated.

　　SCHING!

　　As it spun faster, a blade of pure mana sprouted from the chakram’s edge. Even when his fingers stilled, the weapon continued to spin furiously on its own. I stood my ground, arms crossed, just watching.

　　Ea. Are you watching?

　　-Affirmative, Tower Master. I am watching.

　　Ea’s calm voice echoed in my head. Just hearing it was incredibly reassuring. It felt like I wasn’t fighting alone.

　　This is your debut. I need an analysis of the opponent.

　　-Understood. Player Go Shinwook’s Unique Ability is Rotational Acceleration. He specializes in a ranged attack style, adding spin to custom-made weapons woven from Mithra sinew.

　　A ranged attacker, huh?

　　-A combat-type Unique Ability, weapons made from monster byproducts, and the application of that ability through mana. This is what is commonly known as the most standard hunter style.

　　What’s the best way to handle him?

　　Her voice paused for a moment before she spoke again.

　　-Query.

　　“Die!”

　　Shinwook hurled two rapidly spinning chakrams at me. I checked their trajectory and deployed a Shield in mid-air.

　　Clang! Thud!

　　The chakrams that struck the Shield were deflected with almost comical ease, clattering to the floor. A strangled, disbelieving sound escaped Shinwook’s lips. His triumphant expression had vanished.

　　-Your projected win rate is ninety-nine percent, Tower Master, Ea’s voice echoed in my mind. -A strategy seems superfluous when victory is assured, regardless of your opponent’s approach.

　　Heh. So that was her assessment.

　　“Wh-what did you just do?!” a flustered Shinwook shrieked. “How did you block that with a detection ability?!”

　　“It’s not an ability,” I corrected him calmly. “It’s magic.”

　　He took it as mockery, his face flushing a furious shade of red.

　　“And about that technique of yours,” I said, gesturing to the chakram quivering in the floorboards. “It looks threatening, sure, but what’s your plan for armored opponents?”

　　“…What?”

　　“It might slice through the low-rank fodder you’re used to, but you’ll have a hell of a time against anything with natural armor. You’d be better off converting the mana coating the blade into pure rotational force.”

　　“How dare you…” Enraged, Shinwook spread his arms wide like wings. “Who are you to give me advice?!”

　　Click! Click!

　　“Take—!”

　　Thwack! Thwack!

　　My Mana Arrows flew true, embedding themselves in Shinwook’s thighs. His face contorted in pain, and the spinning blades clattered uselessly to the floor.

　　“And most importantly, your attacks are too slow,” I added, unimpressed. “Who’s going to stand around and wait for you to wind up?”

　　Shinwook was so furious he was practically foaming at the mouth.

　　I could almost understand how he felt. He was the second-year class representative, and I was the infamous underachiever, Kim Yusin, a student who could be kicked out of the academy at any moment. The more he’d looked down on me, the greater the shock of his defeat.

　　“I’ll grind your face into the dirt!” he roared, pulling out a medium-sized chakram. He gave it a quick, light spin and hurled it at me.

　　The increased speed came at the cost of power, and it was effortlessly blocked by the shield I summoned mid-air. His follow-up attacks were just as futile. Shinwook launched a desperate, panting barrage, but his chakrams couldn’t pierce my shield. They simply clattered harmlessly to the floor around me.

　　Fighting a second-year is a breeze now, I thought. It hadn’t been long since I’d escaped that nightmarish cube. After defending against Mana Arrows trying to kill me from every conceivable angle, blocking these telegraphed, sluggish projectiles was almost enough to make me yawn.

　　When I actually feigned a yawn, his face turned beet red, as if it might just explode. He was so easy to provoke.

　　“Kim Yusiiiin!” he howled, finally bringing out his ultimate weapon. He shielded himself with a massive disc large enough to cover his entire body and began to pour rotational energy into it.

　　“Shinwook! Behind you! Behind you!” his friends screamed from the sidelines.

　　At their warning, Shinwook whipped his head around. Taking advantage of the opening he’d foolishly created by blocking his own vision, I was already closing in on his flank. Gritting his teeth, he flung the disc aside and lunged at me with a vortex of mana swirling in his palm.

　　“You think you can beat me in close combat?!” he snarled.

　　Thwack!

　　A Mana Arrow I’d fired from mid-air slammed into his heel. As Shinwook stumbled, losing his balance, I calmly moved into the opening, my fist already wreathed in the light of a gauntlet spell.

　　“You talk too damn much,” I muttered, savoring the look of mixed surprise and terror on his face as I threw my right arm forward.

　　CRACK!

　　Blue sparks flew in all directions. His ugly face crumpled like a tin can, and the force of the blow slammed him into the floor.

　　CRASH!

　　A deafening impact echoed through the gymnasium.

　　“Gasp…!”

　　“Shinwook!” his friends cried, rushing over in a panic as he lay there, out cold.

　　Just then, Ea’s voice returned. -Warning: Using magic against a person, as opposed to a monster, requires more delicate control of its output.

　　…She had a point. I thought I had held back, but the power was still no joke. I flexed my fist, then turned to the facility staff member overseeing the duel. He glanced between the fallen Shinwook and me before finally checking the suit gauge display.

　　[Kim Yusin: 1,000/1,000]

　　[Shinwook: 0/1,000]

　　“The match is over!” the staff member announced. “The winner is second-year Kim Yusin.”

　　It was, without a doubt, a complete victory.

　　“…Aaargh!” Shinwook began to moan, rolling around on the floor.

　　As I slowly approached, he scrambled backward, his eyes wide with terror as if he’d seen a ghost. I crouched in front of him, a slow grin spreading across my face.

　　“Shall we settle the score?”

* * *