Rivals in the Classroom
“Wanna take classes together?”
Kim Jihun blinked in surprise at Leila’s sudden declaration. The girl who’d only ever acknowledged him in passing was now approaching him directly, asking to sit together in class. And with that sharp, challenging expression on her face, no less.
Leila pressed on. “Watching you hold back like that pisses me off. Why the hell don’t you show off your skills when you’ve got ‘em? It’s frustrating just watching!”
Jihun was momentarily stunned, unable to process her absurd complaint. But Leila didn’t care—she barreled ahead. “So from now on, I’m sitting with you in class. I’m gonna drag every last bit of your talent out into the open and crush you!”
Her competitive fire burned even brighter.
From that day forward, Kim Jihun started sitting with Leila.
“Today’s lesson is on divine power amplification—something I’m great at! You won’t be able to keep up!”
Leila boasted shamelessly. Jihun calmly pulled out his low-level god manual and set it on the desk, then took out his notebook and pen to prepare for note-taking.
Internally, Jihun’s feelings were mixed. It’s not boring, at least... but all these stares.
He glanced around the room and shrank back under the jealous glares directed his way. So many low-level male gods have a thing for Leila.
Leila was incredibly popular among the male low-level gods. In a realm full of handsome men and beautiful women, she stood out with her striking looks and her direct lineage from a high-ranking Creator God. Was there a single male low-level god in this classroom who didn’t have a crush on her?
That level of allure made her irresistible. And now, this captivating young goddess was sitting right next to Kim Jihun. Every single day.
Not that I mind that part...
Jihun slowly turned to watch Leila preparing for class. A faint, fragrant scent wafted from her, warm yet subtly passionate, mingling with her divine power. Her appearance was undeniably captivating. Her golden hair shimmered with noble elegance, and despite her youthful goddess vibe, there was a subtle sensuality to her features—long lashes, full red lips, and striking Western contours. She was the kind of beauty that turned heads among low-level gods.
She’s pretty, sure...
Jihun appraised her looks anew, but his thoughts soured. But her personality’s a total mess.
“Hey! What trick did you pull? Rematch!”
“No way! That’s cheating!”
“You! You just used a calculation aid, didn’t you?! Don’t lie!”
She was the embodiment of competition. Every class, she’d latch onto Jihun, igniting her rivalry. Because of her, he stopped coasting through lessons and had to go all-out every time. He couldn’t stand losing to this girl who looked younger than him.
Though she’s probably older, technically.
Surprisingly, this low-level goddess who appeared to be a 15-year-old girl was actually around 100 years old, by his estimates.
All gods are frauds. You can’t judge their age by looks.
Through his steady attendance at school, Jihun had gradually learned about god society. One key detail was the age of low-level gods. From birth, gods remained in a semi-awakened state until achieving low-level god status—a process that took about 100 years. They spent that time in a dreamlike haze, forming their divinity until full awakening.
Thus, every low-level god in this room was older than Jihun, despite looking just 15!
Regardless, Jihun competed with Leila in every class. Pouring his all into each rivalry, his divine power surged rapidly as a result.
…
“Ugh, I’m beat.”
Kim Jihun muttered as he stepped out through the dimensional gate. He stretched his arms wide with a satisfying crack, feeling the tension melt away.
He’d gone all-out against Leila again today.
“If only Leila would go easy on me sometimes.”
It had been a week since Jihun started attending school. Lately, competing with her had accelerated his divine power growth dramatically.
He murmured, “Competition, huh... It’s making me grow fast.”
Without her prodding, he’d probably have progressed at a mediocre pace. Leila’s fiery competitiveness spurred him on, turning them into true rivals locked in a blazing contest.
But without that push, would he have stayed passive? Hiding in the corner, avoiding attention?
Yeah... probably.
In Jihun’s view, he was pretty timid by nature. Before getting the Creator God Manual, he’d been talentless among the talentless, always shrinking back. Friends had even called him “damp and gloomy.”
His personality had improved somewhat, but the old insecurities lingered.
“Gotta fix this passive side of me.”
He wished he could be more outgoing.
…
Jihun eyed the large sketch paper spread on his desk, featuring the watch he was designing for his new job at P.B.
“Being able to work from home like this... What a great world.”
Muttering to himself, he grabbed a stray pen from the desk and resumed his design work.
He’d researched P.B.’s watches online beforehand. Their lineup was elegant and vintage, but he could see why their popularity was declining.
“This style doesn’t appeal to modern tastes.”
Today’s designs thrived on simplicity. P.B.’s quality was top-tier—intricate reliefs and engravings breathing artisan craftsmanship, luxurious and stylish.
But they didn’t fit the current era.
“They don’t match modern life.”
P.B. watches oozed old-world charm, but they clashed with contemporary fashion. Fine for flaunting wealth, but impractical for everyday wear.
So Jihun boldly tweaked their style.
“Keep P.B.’s philosophy, but adapt it for today’s world.”
He deviated from tradition: toning down the complexity, flashiness, and antiquity; embracing simplicity and sharpness. Subtlety over ostentation, humility over showiness.
Where old designs screamed for attention, his whispered quiet confidence.
P.B.’s identity reformed in his hands—true to its roots, yet reborn for modern values.
As his pen moved, lines formed curves, curves built surfaces, and surfaces merged into a complex whole. The watch’s form evolved through erasures and revisions, becoming art.
How much time passed? Jihun examined the massive sheet in his hands.
“Hm. Not bad at all.”
There was his fully realized new watch design. Unlike P.B.’s all-curved classics, it incorporated sharp straight lines. Subtle vintage patterns adorned the surface, while internal components harmonized perfectly with the concept.
Jihun reviewed it closely and nodded. “This should appeal to the younger crowd.”
He grinned. P.B.’s old designs leaned too hard into opulence—perfect for status symbols, terrible for daily use. No wonder they struggled with busy modern folks, especially youth.
But his? It retained that subtle luxury and heritage, like a humble master hiding depths.
“Yeah. This’ll hook the young ones.”
Jihun smiled in satisfaction.
…
“How was the trip?”
“Oh, our son made it wonderful.”
“We can’t thank you enough, Jihun.”
Jihun’s parents had returned home. He greeted them warmly.
They dove right into trip stories.
“Your dad wouldn’t stop bragging about you. It was embarrassing in front of the other travelers!”
“Ahem, enough of that.”
Jihun cherished the reunion, chatting animatedly after a week apart. He gave them a rundown of recent events.
“So, I started working at P.B. As a watch designer.”
“Really?”
His parents congratulated him. P.B. was a prestigious luxury brand—surely a high salary came with it. His father asked curiously, “How’s the pay there? The chairman himself came for you; they must really want you.”
Jihun smiled bashfully. He’d never imagined openly boasting his income. Just months ago, he was a bookstore clerk; now, seven figures overnight.
“One-year signing bonus is $100,000, monthly salary $10,000.”
“Hmm, dollars are hard to gauge. In won?”
“About 100 million for the bonus, 10 million monthly.”
“What?!”
His father’s eyes widened. He’d been stunned by the chairman’s visit but tempered expectations with the remote work and flexibility. Who pays big for home-based freedom?
He’d planned to advise settling for stability. But this shattered his assumptions: 100 million bonus, 10 million monthly—no strings—plus royalties.
“We renegotiate yearly. My value rises, so salary could increase. Hence one-year terms.”
“...”
His father was speechless. His mother, too. Their son, a seven-figure earner? They froze in shock.
Jihun declared proudly, “Mom, Dad—relax now. I’ll take care of you. Dad, quit your job. Enjoy early retirement, hobbies, whatever. Money’s on me!”
Beaming with pride at providing for them, he stood tall. His parents gaped, staring at their son in stunned silence.