Let's Get Through This, Examiner
The clock read 12:45. There were still fifteen minutes left until lunch. To be completely honest, I had zero desire to show up early. I only came because Suhyun had been so insistent.
“Principal, this is Examiner Baek Seojin.”
“Come in.”
I cracked the door open and stepped inside. Only Ma Hakjun was sitting in the principal’s office. Just as I thought—I’d arrived too early. What was the point of showing up fifteen minutes ahead of schedule? I probably would’ve been better off spending that time chatting with Suhyun.
“You’re early. The other professors haven’t arrived yet.”
“It seemed like it would be an important discussion, so… I ended up coming ahead of time.”
My answer must have pleased him. Ma Hakjun smiled. Seeing that, I secretly felt a little glad I’d listened to Suhyun.
“Now that I think about it, you probably don’t know yet.”
“You mean the reason we were all called to the principal’s office? If that’s what you’re referring to…”
“We already covered that earlier. What I’m talking about is something else.”
Ma Hakjun rose from his seat and told me to take a good look around the principal’s office. I wondered if there was something I was missing and did as he asked, but nothing looked any different from before. When I gave him a puzzled expression, he spoke again.
“Do you know how many professors we have at this academy?”
“At the very least, I believe it exceeds two digits.”
“Correct. And yet, doesn’t this principal’s office we’ve all been called to feel rather small?”
Huh. Now that he mentioned it, he was right. This wasn’t a conference room—it was the principal’s office. He’d said there was something to discuss and called not only me but every professor here. I’d completely overlooked something that should have raised an obvious question.
“…Is there perhaps a secret room?”
It had been a half-hearted guess, but Ma Hakjun nodded. He walked over to the bookshelf, pulled out a single book, and—
A heavy rumble sounded as the bookshelf slid open, revealing a door behind it.
“Go on in.”
I followed Ma Hakjun inside. The space beyond was nothing like the relatively modest principal’s office. A massive table, dozens of chairs, and a huge screen in the front. It felt exactly like the “tactical command centers” you only ever saw in movies.
What the hell is this ridiculous setup?
It was only natural to feel dumbfounded. A secret conference room hidden inside the principal’s office of all places? They could have installed it anywhere in the academy—why here?
“It must seem strange. Installing something like this in the principal’s office.”
“To be completely honest… it’s more than a little strange.”
“To explain, this place is only used for truly critical meetings.”
In other words, it wasn’t used under normal circumstances. Given that it was built into the principal’s office, that made sense. No one in their right mind would attach a conference room directly to the principal’s office. You’d never be able to tell whether important discussion topics were going in one ear and out the other.
“And the professors we’ve called here are people we can trust without question. They’ve been thoroughly investigated.”
“Weren’t all academy faculty selected as trustworthy individuals from the start?”
“They were. But there’s no such thing as being too prepared. Above all, your opinion carried considerable weight.”
My opinion, of course, referred to the possibility of a traitor inside the academy. The villains had pinpointed the exact location of the training team and launched a surprise attack. That couldn’t have been a coincidence. There had to be a traitor among us. I’d passed that opinion on to Han Jiyun, and it seemed she had relayed it clearly to Ma Hakjun.
“Do you truly believe there is a traitor inside the academy?”
When Ma Hakjun asked, I answered without the slightest hesitation.
“Yes. Every organization in the world has its traitors.”
“Even when they receive the best treatment and the highest honors?”
“If the world ran on such simple logic, life would be far more peaceful.”
They could have been threatened. Or succumbed to persistent temptation. No matter how wealthy someone is, they always crave more. Whatever the villains had offered, if it was tempting enough, the answer would be a resounding “yes.”
“Then the professors summoned this time…”
“Are individuals who have undergone repeated verification. Not a speck of dust can be found on them.”
Coming from Ma Hakjun himself, those words carried real weight. Countless times villains had tried to plant moles, yet he had caught every single one. Remembering that, I could trust that the faculty he had vetted were true allies.
“…It looks like they’re starting to arrive.”
At Ma Hakjun’s words, I tilted my ear and caught the sound of people outside.
“Take a seat. The meeting will begin shortly.”
The professors who had received Ma Hakjun’s summons took their seats in the secret conference room beyond the principal’s office. They had already been briefed on the general situation. Given the state of the world, every face was deadly serious.
“Is everyone here?”
“Yes, Principal.”
Once all the professors were seated, Ma Hakjun took his own seat. A moment later, a middle-aged man appeared on the large screen in front.
⊳ “Everyone, did you have a good lunch?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
The man on screen was none other than the president of the Ability User Association—an individual whose authority surpassed that of most government ministers.
⊳ “First, I must apologize for gathering all of you busy professors like this. However, given the nature of the matter, I hope you will understand.”
After quickly offering his apology and asking for understanding, the association president got straight to the point.
⊳ “You should all be roughly aware of the news. The tragedy that occurred in Gangwon Province not long ago.”
At the association president’s words, both Ma Hakjun and the professors wore grim expressions. The tragedy had taken place in an abandoned mine dungeon located in Sokcho, Gangwon Province. An entire team of A-rank ability users sent to clear the dungeon had been completely wiped out.
These weren’t newly promoted A-ranks who were still closer to B-rank. They were veterans with abundant real combat experience—seasoned hunters who had instead become the prey.
⊳ “The investigation into that incident has concluded.”
“What was the conclusion?”
⊳ “It appears the monsters’ levels have increased significantly compared to before. However, the dungeon’s rank was still measured as A-rank.”
A murmur immediately rose among the seated professors. Skilled A-rank ability users had been utterly annihilated, yet the dungeon’s rank remained unchanged at A-rank?
“Mr. President, is that even possible? A-rank hunters were wiped out, and the dungeon still registers as A-rank?”
⊳ “We naturally considered upgrading it to S-rank. But no matter how many times we measured it, the dungeon consistently registered as A-rank. We will likely need to recheck it after the next respawn cycle.”
The murmuring among the professors refused to die down. Everyone gathered here had been active ability users in the field until recently. That was precisely why they couldn’t comprehend how a dungeon capable of wiping out A-ranks could still be measured as A-rank.
⊳ “For now, we are considering several possibilities. The first is that villains used some unknown method to abnormally strengthen the monsters inside the dungeon.”
It wasn’t entirely impossible or absurd. Research into temporarily enhancing ability users through specific drugs had existed for a long time. Although every nation now banned it as an inhumane act, some villains continued to focus on that very research. It was possible they had applied the results to monsters instead of humans.
“But how could villains break through the perimeter and enter the dungeon? Considering the dungeon’s clear conditions, even if they did something like that, wouldn’t they suffer the consequences themselves?”
At one professor’s opinion, the others—including Ma Hakjun—nodded in agreement. If villains used some method to strengthen monsters, they would still need to enter the dungeon. How exactly had they breached the security perimeter around the area? And how had they escaped after clearing it? There were far too many holes in that theory.
The association president seemed to have considered that as well, as he nodded in understanding.
⊳ “I understand. That is why we are leaning heavily toward the second possibility.”
“A mutation, then?”
At Ma Hakjun’s question, the association president nodded. When viewed broadly, monsters were living creatures. And if they were living creatures, mutations could naturally occur. The professors seemed to find this theory fairly credible. After all, most of them had encountered such cases at least once during their active days.
⊳ “Correct. For now, it seems the government is hoping the second prediction is accurate. If it was simply a mutation, then it was merely an unfortunate coincidence that they encountered it at that exact moment. There would be no larger issue.”
“So you’re saying those juniors were just unlucky.”
Ma Hakjun’s voice grew icy, clearly displeased. Several ability users had died, yet they were supposed to chalk it up to nothing more than bad luck. Even if that were true, it felt deeply unpleasant and left a bad aftertaste.
“Mr. President.”
At that moment, Baek Seojin, seated among the professors, quietly raised his hand.
⊳ “Ah, Examiner Baek Seojin is here as well.”
“Yes. Um, is this a meeting where I shouldn’t speak?”
⊳ “Not at all. On the contrary, if you hadn’t been present, I would have asked the principal to bring you in.”
Having said that, the association president invited Baek Seojin to speak if he had something to say. The large-scale villain ambush and the battle against the Elder had overshadowed it, but when you thought about it, Baek Seojin was also connected to this incident. According to reports, a similar event had occurred in the dungeon assigned to Baek Seojin’s training team. It had clearly been a dungeon chosen to match the academy students’ level, yet the monsters that appeared at the end were stronger than expected, according to the students’ testimony. On top of that, the boss had been powerful enough that the students could have been the ones wiped out instead.
“Didn’t you say the probability of it being a mutation is the highest?”
⊳ “I did.”
“It would be nice if it really was just a coincidence. However, I believe the situation may be more serious than that.”
⊳ “If you say the situation is more serious, what exactly do you mean?”
After taking a brief breath at the association president’s question, Baek Seojin answered.
“The monsters are changing. To be more precise, they are growing as well.”