Duties Are Expanding - 1
“Have you heard the news?”
Kang Hana, who had come to the examination hall again today, greeted me with that question instead of a proper hello. At this point, I was starting to wonder if she was delivering the daily paper. I responded with a simple, “What news?”
“Jeong Yuhyeon. He dropped out.”
“Dropped out?”
That was unexpected. I never imagined he would make such a self-destructive move. The Ability Academy was nothing like a normal university. Once you left, there was no coming back. One strike and you were out—whether you left by choice or by force. No matter how difficult or painful things got, you had to endure. The future would only be twice as harsh. If someone couldn’t even handle this, they would fail just the same later on. That was the reasoning behind the rule: once a student left, they could never return.
“A foolish choice. So many students fight tooth and nail just to get into the Academy.”
Kang Hana nodded in agreement. Even if he had fallen to Bronze, he could have climbed back up with enough effort. She muttered something about him being unable to endure even a moment of shame.
Well, not quite. Unlike the others, I had no intention of ever letting that guy rise again.
Maybe Jeong Yuhyeon had figured out my true intentions. Rather than staying in Bronze, racking up academic warnings, and eventually being expelled, he chose to submit his own withdrawal form. He probably thought it was the smarter option, but it was just a “cool” way of quitting. Whether you walked out on your own or got pushed, the result was the same—you couldn’t endure. Was there really no thought of gritting his teeth and growing stronger to reach Silver?
Still, it’s a shame. He was useful for blowing off steam whenever I got stressed.
For a brief moment, I worried he might cause trouble outside. But I quickly dismissed the thought as pointless. If Irina caught him again, he wouldn’t survive anyway.
“Also, the students’ atmosphere seems to have changed a bit.”
“Changed how, exactly?”
Since my role as an examiner kept me confined to the examination hall, I relied on Kim Suhyun, Lee Hyunwoo, and Kang Hana to gauge the students’ reactions. Kim Suhyun was too busy talking about herself the moment she arrived, and Lee Hyunwoo charged straight into sparring without mentioning the others.
“They seem to be adapting, little by little. Some of them have started to recognize their own shortcomings. The number of people staying in the training grounds has increased significantly compared to before.”
“That’s good. I was worried there would still be a lot of complaints.”
“You erased those complaints yourself, Examiner.”
When I fell silent, unsure what she meant, Kang Hana smiled and continued.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. The way you stopped the monsters during that sudden Gate outbreak, and how you fought off the villains when they attacked. That alone was a huge inspiration to the students.”
I just hoped that inspiration had gone in a positive direction. The last thing I needed was students thinking, I want to be a popular ability user like the Examiner! instead of I want to become a more skilled ability user like the Examiner!
“I can see what you’re thinking, Examiner.”
Kang Hana grinned as she went on.
“But I don’t think it’s a bad thing. There are people who move with a sense of duty like you, Examiner, but there are also those driven by admiration for other ability users. As long as it motivates them to work hard, isn’t that enough?”
I thought it over for a moment before nodding. To be honest, I wasn’t driven solely by obligation or duty either. Of course, I wanted to prevent students from dying pointless deaths in the future. Watching young lives get “swept away” wasn’t exactly pleasant. But that wasn’t the only reason I spoke and acted the way I did.
“Examiner Baek Seojin.”
When I turned my head, a security guard was looking at me.
“The Principal is calling for you. We’ll handle the examination duties for a while.”
Ma Hakjun was summoning me again. What could it be this time? As I followed the guard, I racked my brain but came up empty.
It’s not like I broke someone’s ribs again.
Come to think of it, that tattooed delinquent—what was his name? Ah, right. Park Junwoo. I wondered what he was up to. He hadn’t shown his face since that day. Had the little punk dropped out too, afraid his other bones might get broken next time?
“Principal.”
“Come in.”
After the guard nodded, I opened the door and stepped inside. The room was just as ordinary as before. Even a typical university president’s office would look more impressive than this. Hard to believe it belonged to a former hero.
“I heard you called for me, Principal.”
“Welcome. Ah, and I apologize for pulling you away while you were working.”
“It’s fine. It was a quiet time right after lunch anyway.”
Ma Hakjun offered me a seat, then brewed a cup of coffee and handed it to me. A civil servant drinking coffee personally served by the Principal. I really must have become somewhat famous.
“I got a call from my friend.”
Ma Hakjun had plenty of friends, but the one he meant was obvious.
“You mean Chairman Kang Minsung.”
“Chairman, my ass. That old fool can’t even act his age—he’s completely smitten.”
I nearly blurted out, “You’re not wrong,” but caught myself. It was fine for me to badmouth him, but hearing someone else do it felt wrong. That was what real friendship was, wasn’t it?
“His love for his granddaughter is certainly extreme. He couldn’t stop smiling whenever he talked about her.”
“That’s exactly why he’s a fool. Thanks to that guy, I’ve been exhausted for a while now.”
For the record, Ma Hakjun wasn’t the type to speak without reason. In other words, he genuinely found Kang Minsung exhausting and infuriating.
“As you probably know by now, Suhyun—that is, Kim Suhyun—has a tragic past.”
“Chairman Kang Minsung told me about it as well.”
“She must like you quite a bit if she shared that.”
Kim Suhyun had lost her mother at a young age—not in an accident, but in battle. She had been an outstanding ability user. Kim Suhyun had inherited the ability from both her grandfather and her mother, but she hadn’t reached their level of power. That had fueled her inferiority complex.
“It was a tragic story.”
“It was. People are all the same. Everyone carries some deeply unfortunate past.”
Ma Hakjun took a sip of coffee, fell silent for a moment, then continued.
“In my case, I lost many friends during the early days of the Gate era. Later, I even lost my son. It’s been a long time, but I can still vaguely remember the day he left.”
I couldn’t find any words to respond. Losing one’s parents was devastating, but losing a child was something else entirely. I’d heard that watching your child die was an unbearable stress, even in old age. If it happened in their prime, it would be a nightmare you’d never want to recall.
“…My condolences.”
“It’s fine. It’s been quite a while now. The memory’s faded.”
That was a lie. Those weren’t the eyes of someone whose memories had grown hazy. He would probably never forget until the day he died—the bright, smiling face of his child.
I had once seen victims caught in a Gate incident while walking down the street. People of all ages had died, including many young students. I still couldn’t forget the screams of their parents. Those screams were more horrifying than the howls of any beast. Even though they were strangers to me, my heart had felt torn apart. Watching that scene, I had wished that my friends, still in their prime, wouldn’t die like that anymore.
Maybe the reason I told the students I didn’t want them to die was because I had been so deeply shaken by that sight.
“What about you?”
“Pardon?”
“Are you all right? When you go through things like this, you naturally start wondering if others are okay too. Whether they might be carrying an even deeper, darker past than you. It makes you have these pointless thoughts.”
For a moment, I felt slightly flustered. The memories left in this body were a mix of “mine” and “the original Baek Seojin’s.” I remembered them, but the emotions that should naturally follow didn’t rise.
“I lost both my parents when I was young. And my relatives too—everyone.”
Just like now, I had become a lonely orphan after losing my parents and relatives. Yet as I spoke those words, I felt no real emotion. Not even sadness.
“You probably don’t want to remember it again.”
“Fortunately, it was when I was young, so the memories are hazy. The time after that was so difficult that I ended up forgetting most of it.”
“I see. That makes sense. You’ve been through a lot too.”
After taking another sip of coffee, Ma Hakjun apologized for bringing up such a topic. He hadn’t called me here for this, and he felt bad for ruining the mood with an odd subject.
“Examiner Baek Seojin. The reason I called you again is because I have a request.”
“If it’s something I can do, I’ll do my best to help.”
“Hearing you say that is reassuring.”
Ma Hakjun turned and picked something up from his work table.
“This is it. The request I have for you.”
What he handed me was a stack of documents listing several schedules. As I looked through them, I let out an involuntary sigh.
“…Principal. Surely you’re not asking me to…”
“That’s exactly right. This is what I want to entrust to you.”
Unable to believe my eyes, I checked the documents in my hands once more.
[Gold ~ Platinum Rank Practical Training Plan – External Support Request]
[Team 5 Supervising Professor: _ _ _]
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
Completely unfazed by my stunned reaction, Ma Hakjun continued.
“I want you to take over as the supervising professor for the practical training sessions of the Gold and Platinum rank students—specifically, the external support request.”