Entrance Exam (1)
At eighteen years old this year, Yohan stood one year away from graduating the military academy. As Yosef’s son, he had inherited everything after his father’s sudden death in an unfortunate accident—everything, that is, except the rank itself.
“Yohan, I’m truly sorry about your father.”
“He would have loved to see you graduate…”
“If anything difficult comes up, come to me.”
Yosef’s academy classmates all pitied the boy left behind and scrambled over one another to promise they would stand in for his father. With every power player in the Zone trying to look after him one way or another, Yohan found he did not feel particularly sad about the man’s death.
Sooner or later he would have had to retire anyway. Having it happen before I graduated might actually work out better for me.
Yosef had never been a warm father. He had always put the Commander first, and after Haydam appeared he had spent so much time fretting over Haydam’s affairs that he probably never even realized his own son was in his final year.
Right up until the end he was busy covering for Senior Bones for that bastard’s sake. Typical.
Still, that very devotion was what had carried Yosef so high; Yohan could not bring himself to resent him too deeply. The anger he was currently swallowing had nothing to do with an indifferent father.
“I wonder what Haydam has prepared for the entrance exam.”
“It’ll be something incredible again, for sure.”
“Ah, I wish he’d run a training simulation with us too…”
Every time his fellow proctors—classmates who had been dragged in with him—started gushing about Haydam, Yohan ground his teeth.
My father devoted himself to the Zone until the day he died. But Haydam? That bastard didn’t even show up to the funeral. A slum-born bastard, and he—
The very idea of an “entrance exam” prepared by Haydam struck him as absurd. As far as Yohan was concerned, the recommendation system and the exam system were hardly different.
Do they think officers just recommend anyone? They carefully select only the children worth sponsoring and send them to the academy. Ignoring that effort and acting like the officers were all corrupt—
Of course, he himself had not been carefully selected for talent; he had entered on the strength of being Yosef’s son. Yet he was still an elite who had received systematic education under Yosef from childhood. His admission had been only natural. The thought of orphaned former child soldiers flooding into an academy once reserved for the “chosen” left a bad taste in his mouth.
They could call it an entrance exam all they liked; half those orphans would never pass.
You need something to study before you can even take a test.
As proof, the sponsored children had recognized him as Yosef’s son almost immediately and greeted him with proper deference. The orphaned child soldiers, by contrast, had no idea who he was and simply whispered among themselves.
Even if Senior Platon was the first to push for the exam and the other graduates agreed… this is wrong.
Not every cadet currently enrolled had agreed—Yohan certainly had not—and he knew a few of the other proctors standing here felt the same resentment.
Then the child soldiers who had been chattering among themselves all turned their heads in the same direction at once. Following their gaze without thinking, Yohan saw a boy who looked frighteningly like the Commander striding into the examination hall with a gait far older than his years.
“Greetings, Haydam-nim!”
“You’ve arrived, Haydam-nim?”
“Haydam-nim, are you feeling all right?”
The same children who had pretended not to notice Yohan now rose as one, eyes shining with genuine respect. Yohan’s brow furrowed. He knew perfectly well that Haydam held monthly charity parties for children his own age; gratitude was only natural. And yet—
Buying favor with food… exactly the sort of idea a slum-born bastard would come up with.
He was still glaring when those deep black eyes met his own. Before he knew it Yohan had dropped his gaze. Realizing he had looked away first left him more than a little rattled.
W-what? Why did I look away?
He could not explain it even to himself. While he tried to calm his hammering heart, Haydam’s small polished shoes cut through the circle of children and came straight toward him. For a moment Yohan tensed, wondering why—then he remembered he was standing on the platform. He forced a composed expression and lifted his head.
Haydam had already turned his back and was looking down at the children below.
Unexpected words floated over his shoulder.
“The entrance exam will be held in the snowfields. We will move the venue.”
“Excuse me?”
The content of the exam had been classified; until now Yohan had vaguely assumed they would simply hand out papers and grade them. Snowfields?
“The snowfields? You’re saying you’ll take these children outside the Zone?”
Haydam glanced Yohan up and down once, then answered shortly.
“Yes.”
Informal speech?
This was no time to quibble over honorifics.
“W-what kind of entrance exam requires going outside the Zone?”
Haydam flicked another look at him, then turned back to the children.
“The entrance exam is a hunt.”
“A hunt?”
“You will spend one night in the snowfields hunting monsters.”
The proctor cadets stirred, but the children themselves showed no sign of understanding what that meant.
Going outside the snowfields to kill monsters with their own hands? That’s not a hunt—that’s a subjugation! He’s taking eleven-year-olds on a subjugation and calling it an entrance exam?
Stunned by the sheer absurdity, Yohan hurried forward until he stood in front of Haydam.
“That’s impossible!”
“What’s impossible about it, Cadet Yohan?”
The fact that Haydam knew his name made Yohan falter. He cleared his throat twice and spoke more carefully.
“It’s sudden… and unfair, isn’t it?”
“Unfair?”
“Some of the child soldiers have already been on subjugations, while the sponsored children have never even left the Zone—”
“And you call that unfair?”
An intrigued smile curved Haydam’s lips.
“Suppose I set a written exam on military strategy. Which side would that favor?”
“Th-that…”
Only moments earlier Yohan had been thinking the sponsored children held the advantage precisely because they already knew things. He could not bring himself to argue and merely mumbled.
Haydam watched him for a moment, then smiled with his eyes.
“I know what you’re really worried about, Cadet Yohan. You’re afraid the children will get hurt on the hunt.”
“Pardon?”
“Or is it that you’re worried the child soldiers might actually pass? Surely not.”
The barb struck home. Yohan hastily denied it.
“N-no. I was worried they might get hurt. That’s all.”
“Good. I don’t want any of them hurt either.”
“Then…?”
“The hunt begins the day after tomorrow. Everyone will prepare on their own and gather at the edge of the Zone. You proctors will bring camping gear as well. Feel free to help the children actively so none of them get injured.”
Prepare their own hunting gear? And they were allowed to help the children?
That automatically gives the sponsored kids the edge.
Unlike the orphaned child soldiers who received no support, the sponsored children could stock up on everything they needed and even cram the necessary knowledge in the next two days. Under the pretext of “protecting them,” the proctors could even assist the candidates they favored.
Wasn’t the whole point that he hated high-ranking officers’ children getting in? What is he thinking?
Haydam, the source of Yohan’s confusion, merely wore an unreadable smile as he looked at the children.
“Day after tomorrow, then. Don’t be late.”
“Meursault, what is going on?”
The day the entrance exam’s content was announced, the Commander—who had only learned the truth through others because Meursault and Haydam had kept it secret to the end—summoned Meursault at once and demanded an explanation.
“An entrance exam that’s a hunt? Leaving the Zone makes it a subjugation, not a hunt.”
“We are leaving the Zone, yes, but it is not a subjugation—”
“There have already been accidents because of the abnormal weather! How can you even think of sending children outside?”
Barely a few weeks had passed since Yosef had been struck by lightning and killed. The Commander also knew that Yosef’s own son was among the proctors this time. If Yohan were injured during the “subjugation,” public opinion toward Haydam—who had forced the exam through—would sour overnight. Meursault could not possibly be unaware of that.
The Commander looked at him as though he could not understand.
“What about Yohan? If that boy decides to sabotage the exam out of spite…”
“Not every child in the world is like Haydam-nim, Your Excellency.”
The Commander’s brow creased.
“You refuse to take my son as a son-in-law, and now you openly badmouth him to my face.”
“How did the conversation jump there?”
Meursault sighed inwardly.
You were the picture of cool detachment when you divorced Daphne-nim, yet the moment I said I didn’t want Haydam-nim as a son-in-law you started needling me at every opportunity.
“In any case, a child who hasn’t even graduated the academy yet can scheme all he likes—he is still inside Haydam-nim’s palm. You know that better than anyone, Your Excellency.”
“Hmm…”
The point seemed to land; the Commander’s expression eased a fraction, only for him to shake his head again as though it still would not do.
“Even so, I oppose sending children outside the Zone by themselves.”
“There are child soldiers among them, and more importantly Haydam-nim—”
“I’m worried a situation will arise in which Haydam has to take full responsibility.”
“That will not happen. Several proctors are going along, and first of all this is not a true subjugation—”
“The proctors are still only cadets. Children themselves.”
Cut off yet again, Meursault closed his mouth. The Commander tapped restlessly on his desk.
“We already had large-class monsters ambush us during the last subjugation and nearly lost everything. Now a monster hunt? What on earth is Haydam thinking…”
“That is exactly what I have been trying to tell you.”
Afraid of being interrupted once more, Meursault spoke quickly.
“The children will not be facing real monsters.”
“…What do you mean? They have to catch fake monsters?”
“The target of the subjugation is Haydam-nim himself.”
“…”
For a moment the Commander could only stare at Meursault, speechless.
“…He’s my son, and I still have no idea what goes through his head.”
“At any rate, you need not worry about the children—”
“What are you saying, Meursault?”
The Commander’s face was grave.
“I’d be less worried if they were hunting real monsters.”
“…”
You think that, and yet you still told me to take him as a son-in-law?
Meursault forcibly swallowed the words that had risen to the tip of his tongue.