A Delinquent Performs the Rite
After the entrance ceremony, the students moved to different placement exam venues according to their religious affiliations. Buddhist cheondojae rites, Catholic services, Protestant memorial prayers, and so on. What they were competing in for this placement exam was ancestor memorial rites. In my original world, it was just a simple act of comforting the souls of the dead, but here it was a crucial ritual that replenished the power of ancestor spirits. It made perfect sense as a placement exam subject since it tested the basics.
I'd been assigned to Exam Room 24, where they were conducting Confucian ancestor rites. The reason I'd hastily selected Confucian rites on the placement exam app yesterday was simple. Since the ranking was relative, I needed to avoid fierce competitors. Seol Romi came from a Buddhist family, so she'd chosen the cheondojae. All the Western international students headed to the memorial prayer rooms. Having played the original game dozens of times, I knew which memorial methods the major characters preferred, so I'd picked the one with the lowest competition rate. Truth be told, Confucian rites were the only ones I was even somewhat familiar with anyway.
Someone who'd never set foot in a church or cathedral like me would find it easiest to score points here. Even though Gong In-myeong, the strongest among the selectable protagonists, had chosen Confucian rites, he'd gone to a different exam room. As long as I didn't overlap with Shin Sua, I'd be fine. In my already penniless situation, I had zero interest in being compared to a monster of talent.
"As expected of Argo. They even prepared top-grade, standard ritual vessel sets for the exam."
Unlike me, who was brimming with tension, the other students were admiring the folding screens, low tables, and ornate brassware arranged for the offerings. As they said, the altar on one side of the wall overflowed with tools that looked luxurious at a glance. And that wasn't all. In the kitchen area, burly men with solemn expressions were preparing a variety of sacrificial foods. I could see some of the ancestor spirits attached to the students' wrists showing keen interest in the feast. Since they weren't directly contracted, I couldn't hear their voices, but their expressions said it all. The students' faces, soothing their spirits with promises of food soon, looked utterly ridiculous. If they knew the secret of this exam, they wouldn't say such things so lightly.
"New students of Exam Room 24. Welcome."
I was smirking to myself when a voice came from the entrance. A tall, glasses-wearing man who looked a bit older than my pre-transmigration self was holding a folding fan.
"……."
It was a face I'd seen during gameplay.
"Pardon the late introduction. I'm Jeong Da-un, the supervisor for Exam Room 24. I'm also in charge of the first-year students. I understand if you're grumbling about having an exam on the first day of school, but this one test will determine your class for the next year, so give it your all."
With a sly smile, the examiner pulled a remote from his pocket.
"Anyway, time's short, so let's get started. Fifteen examinees—all present. Shall we prepare?"
Beep
Whirrr
He pressed the button, and the floor parted to reveal teaching materials. More precisely, sixteen simple spirit tablets—written with the names of the deceased on paper—stood in a row on the table. Including the supervisor, there were sixteen people gathered here. And the number of altars matched. The cadets' faces stiffened as they realized what the pre-written spirit tablets meant for this exam.
"Even if this is just a basic placement test, you didn't think the exam was to perform rites for your own ancestor spirits, did you?"
The supervisor asked with a beaming smile, but the students who'd been spot on couldn't respond. Only I, who knew the exam wouldn't be easy, quietly observed. Actually, there was one other student standing calmly. Raising her hand with an expressionless face to ask a question was none other than Shin Sua. Of all people, I had to compete with her in the same room. With only fifteen students here, how had I missed her?
"Yes, Shin Sua. What is it?"
Ignoring my worries, Jeong Da-un pointed to her to take the question.
"Can we consider the exam content as a mangje rite for the forgotten dead?"
"Correct. But no extra points for quick wits."
I wasn't planning on scoring points that way. Shin Sua's furrowed brow seemed to say as much.
"Just kidding. As Shin Sua said, the theme of this exam is mangje—rites for wandering souls without descendants or family."
Murmurs spread among the students.
"Don't worry. The order is randomly drawn, so it's fair, right?"
Jeong Da-un operated the remote again, and glass tombstones rose from the floor.
"Since some haven't caught on yet, I'll demonstrate first."
Jeong Da-un picked one spirit tablet from the table and attached it to a wooden plaque, placing it on the altar. A faint, translucent ancestor spirit appeared above the folding screen. A young man in a traditional hat. Recalling that ancestor spirits manifest in the form most memorable to people, I watched Jeong Da-un and the wandering spirit.
Jeong Da-un greeted politely, then personally served the cooled foods onto the low table with quick yet precise movements. Lighting incense, pouring alcohol into the cup, and finishing the bows took only about three minutes.
"To save time, I prepared the eulogy in advance. Bear with me."
The eulogy was a letter to the deceased. Even to a stranger spirit, the emotions within were profoundly complex—like sobbing, pleading, resenting, yearning. Genuine feelings toward the departed, unadorned by acting or artifice, conveyed in a flawless tone. As Jeong Da-un read the short eulogy and stuck chopsticks into the rice, the floating spirit began absorbing the incense smoke.
No need to complete the rest. The transparent glass tombstone in the room's center cycled through the seven rainbow colors before turning pure white.
"As you see, this tombstone is a device indicating the ancestor spirit's satisfaction. It's rated in eight stages. Not to brag, but my rite just earned the highest score—pure white."
Jeong Da-un smiled, burning the spirit tablet and eulogy with incense to ash.
"A perfect score would show black stripes on top, but that's rare outside miraculous reunions with direct descendants, so treat pure white as the top."
A flawless rite befitting a teacher's name. The students' faces filled with admiration. But it didn't take long for that to turn to anxiety.
Beep
Jeong Da-un worked the remote, and a beam projector descended from the ceiling, projecting onto the wall.
"Let's wrap up before lunch. Drawing starts now."
A roulette with the fifteen names, including mine and Shin Sua's, spun twice rapidly to determine the order.
"Kim So-mi, step forward. Lang Yundi, prepare."
They prepared the altar without tension, but before they could read the eulogy, the glass tombstone turned red, ruthlessly declaring failure. Both had fallen for the traps subtly mixed into the sacrificial foods by the supervisor.
"Next. Shin Sua."
And the dreaded situation unfolded. Top-seat entrant Shin Sua was called third. The spirits watched from the tablets on the table. A high score from her would double the pressure on those after. I desperately didn't want to go right after her.
While I thought that, Shin Sua had already written the eulogy and set the entire altar. Two bows after lighting incense—restrained reverence emanated from every motion.
"As expected of Shin Sua. The Goryeo Group's top prospect lives up to the hype."
"Pouring liquor into an empty cup without a sound…?"
Admiration erupted one after another from the students quietly watching her rite. Even to scions of prestigious families who'd trained rigorously for Argo admission, Shin Sua's basics were impeccably perfect.
"Hm."
Even supervisor Jeong Da-un let out a small chuckle, watching the eulogy-holding Shin Sua with interest. Her expression and demeanor radiated piety.
"I humbly report. On the second day of the third month of the year Gihai, unworthy junior Shin Sua dares report before the departed ancestor spirit—"
Despite it being a mangje eulogy invoking abundance—not for familiar kin—she recited it flawlessly, like poetry, infused with earnest prayer.
"I reverently offer clear liquor and offerings; please partake."
Finishing the recited eulogy, Shin Sua refilled the cup, moved the chopsticks, and whispered something softly to the spirit savoring the foods. I couldn't hear from here, but the spirit reacted immediately. The portly elderly spirit turned, gazed long at the screen's painting, then slowly nodded.
Bzzz
The next instant, the glass tombstone vibrated faintly and turned white. Faster than Jeong Da-un's rite, the spirit's satisfaction hit the maximum.
"……."
No one spoke. Everyone wore expressions of desperate curiosity about what Shin Sua had said to the spirit.
Under all eyes, Shin Sua silently burned the tablet and eulogy. Only after assistants cleared the foods did the heavy reverence lift, and the students spoke.
"Whoa…."
"Insane."
The students' gazes toward Shin Sua held not wariness or envy, but respect and admiration. What a bunch of pushovers. Not the time to be impressed by a rival.
"Hah."
Still, credit where due. Memorial rites varied wildly depending on the spirit. Wandering souls were nothing like ancestors whose preferences living kin knew intimately. Even non-taboo foods hated in life earned rock-bottom scores the moment offered—the effort was immense. A perfect score in such a luck-heavy exam meant insane luck or some secret I didn't know. Like whatever Shin Sua whispered.
"Shin Sua."
Impressed by the early perfect score, Jeong Da-un called her back.
"I know it's a tough question, but what did you say to the spirit?"
The whispering students fell silent, eyes glued to her lips.
"Simple. I told it the low table and brassware were all made by my family. It took interest when I said the screen painting was my own work."
Clap!
"Aha!"
Jeong Da-un lightly smacked his palm with the fan in admiration.
"This brassware has the Goryeo Group logo engraved on the back!"
A student's shocked voice rang out upon late confirmation.
Behind Shin Sua floated the spirit's form. A giant wielding a massive brush over his shoulder, stroking his short beard. Boasting immense ancestral power, more vivid than any other here—this was the mighty ancestor spirit venerated by the Goryeo Shin family for generations: Shin Yun-bok, the late Joseon warrior famed for his paintings.
"Holy shit."
Gazing at the beaming giant spirit behind her approvingly, I muttered so softly no one heard.
I vaguely recalled from the game that most prestigious families used Goryeo Group ritual ware, but who'd have thought Shin Sua's own works were in the exam room. Her high score secret was beyond imagination—no urge to cry foul or cheat. Had she known in advance her family's products were here? I shook off the speculation. Didn't matter. Time to focus on my turn.
Thankfully, my eyesight and kanji knowledge were decent, and I'd memorized Jeong Da-un's eulogy already. Writing and reading in Korean like Shin Sua made it wordy; kanji kept it short. Foods and eulogy—these were the rite's core. What I needed now was time. If just a couple more went before me, I might fake an elder son of a lineage family—
Click!
"Next. Kim Taeyang."
But luck evaded me.
"…Yes."
Right after Shin Sua. She glared straight at me. Let's see what you've got. Her face said it all.
"Fucking trash game RNG…."
Gritting my teeth to hide my dismay, I walked up and grabbed one of the tablets on the table. Fine, even if failure was certain, I had to try.
"Look at that guy."
"Total unfilial scum vibe."
"No way the spirit doesn't lowball him for the hair color."
Whispers from behind. Even a girl called me shady based on looks.
"Talk all you want."
Body of a tanned blond delinquent or not, my soul was a pure, diligent 27-year-old lifelong singleton civil servant. Wait, seeing memos like "Places to Go with a Girlfriend" on Kim Taeyang's phone—maybe he was a closet romantic too.
"Hah…."
Enough escapism. Shaking off distractions, I half-resignedly approached the food table and selected safe dishes into the brassware. Besides what the two lowest-scorers picked, game-known traps lurked. Garlic-scented beef skewers—strong flavors taboo. Pass. Glossy white rice cake—bit in, sweet red bean paste. Azuki repels ghosts. Pass.
"Such a shady teacher…."
Jeong Da-un's cunning traps pissed me off, but I was a veteran who'd cleared the game dozens of times. After deliberation, I chose universally safe combos, placed the tablet on the altar.
Whumm
A blurry spirit form appeared between the low table and screen. The emaciated elder's skin cracked like turtle shell or drought-fissured fields—pitiful. Averting my eyes, I recalled Jeong Da-un's eulogy and scrawled hideous kanji with the brush.
But then.
This—
Throat—
A voice. One only direct kin or soul-thread linked contractors should hear.
"……."
Mouth agape, I looked up at the spirit. He desperately tried conveying something, wringing out his withered voice in urgent plea. Low ancestral power made him translucent and faint, hands gesturing wildly. In his desperate motions, I read the wish. Faintly floating hanja in air gave the info.
"…So that's it."
I knew what to do. I removed all foods from the altar. Only tablet and incense burner left. Common sense violation in any world.
"What the hell's that guy doing?"
"Is he insane? Removing the altar before the spirit partakes."
"Psycho."
Curses erupted. Everyone watched. Most puzzled why the glass didn't turn red instantly. I knew. To them, this insulted not just the spirit but Argo's exams and rite culture entirely.
"Giving up? Exit's that way."
The supervisor called as I headed to the kitchen, but I turned, finger to lips.
Shh.
"Still performing the rite."
"Pardon?"
Not sure if right, but Jeong Da-un's dumbfounded face was surprisingly fun. I filled a large cold noodle bowl with water, added fridge ice and a petal from the windowsill pot, returned to the altar, set it down, lit incense.
"Take your time. More if needed."
Two quiet bows. Faint smoke swirled in air—
Bzzzzz
The glass tombstone rattled loudly.