Why Take Notes?
"Why are you taking notes?"
One day, Leila asked.
Kim Jihun was sitting at his desk, jotting down the lecture content. His notebook was packed with notes, and scattered throughout were concise diagrams he'd organized in his own way.
Jihun turned to look at her. Her golden hair was stunning. Among the beautiful divine beings, she exuded an extra layer of allure. Her lips were adorably petite, her features captivating. Especially those long, fluttering eyelashes—sexy and seductive in a way that felt sinful, radiating sexual charm despite her 15-year-old appearance.
Jihun met her curious expression.
Leila blinked at his gaze and asked again.
"We divine folk never forget anything we see or hear. So why bother with notes? I just don't get why you're doing it."
Her tone lacked its usual venom. In truth, Jihun and Leila were growing closer. Or rather, they were starting to acknowledge each other. She found his personality frustrating but recognized him as her rival, while he was getting used to her aggressive ways and coming to appreciate her existence. They were gradually understanding one another.
Unlike their early days at school, they now interacted more freely. They'd ask questions out of curiosity and respect each other's skills even in competition. Their relationship wasn't hostile anymore.
Jihun answered her question.
"It's not just for memorizing."
"Then why?"
Leila pressed him. Why take notes at all? Divine memory was permanent. Even fleeting shadows or utterly useless trivia—they remembered everything forever. To them, note-taking seemed like a waste of resources. Why make notebooks from trees when you had a perfect, eternal storage device in your head?
To her, Jihun's habit looked pointless at first glance.
He explained.
"It helps me organize my thoughts and reconstruct them in my own way."
"Reconstruct?"
Without a word, Jihun picked up his pen and pointed to various circuits scribbled in his notebook.
"Look. There are several ways to represent divine power circuits here."
"Yeah."
"Just listening and memorizing in your head is passive recall. See?"
Jihun began copying the circuit into the blank space beside it, explaining as he went.
"When you write it down, your mind starts wandering to possibilities. How could I tweak this? Is there a better improvement? What related circuits link to it...?"
As his pen moved, the original circuit evolved. It became more efficient, versatile, responsive—refined through his hand.
Leila got it and said,
"So while listening to the lecture, you were noting it down, modifying, and reorganizing?"
"Pretty much."
Jihun nodded, flipping through his notebook to show her the various entries. Leila examined them closely. They resembled the manual's content at a glance, but each bore subtle revisions or traces of his deliberations.
She said, almost grudgingly,
"That's why you're so good at applications. You weren't just memorizing—you were revising and adapting right there in class."
"You got it."
Jihun agreed easily.
Leila gazed at him softly.
"All that effort, and you still hide your true potential..."
"Huh?"
"Nothing. Let's go eat."
Leila stood up. Jihun awkwardly followed her to the cafeteria. Seeing him trail behind, her expression brightened just a touch.
...
"Promotion battle next week, huh."
Leila mentioned to Jihun.
He replied,
"Oh yeah, that's right. You going for it?"
"Of course. I'm busting out of low-level school fast."
"Hmm."
Leila and Jihun were eating in the cafeteria. At first, Jihun had wondered what divine folk ate. His first bite of school cafeteria food had been a shock.
Put simply: it was insanely delicious. Absolutely mouthwatering.
Divine cuisine looked ordinary—unknown plants, mystery meats, strange soups. All made by divine hands or grown on other planets. Nothing from Earth. Earth was Asrie's independent zone, isolated from the rest.
But the taste? Explosive. Because it was food cooked to perfection with divine power—"gods' cuisine."
Divine power was near-omnipotent. (True omnipotence belonged to creation power, but divine power was the noblest and most versatile otherwise.) It could manipulate anything that existed—move it, alter it. Not from nothing, like creation, but still sacred.
Pour that into cooking? You get divine feasts beyond imagination.
Jihun had nearly teared up at his first taste, overwhelmed by waves of flavor. Now, eating these wonders daily, it was no surprise he dreamed of cooking with his own power someday.
I'll learn cooking later, he thought secretly. Someday.
Savoring his meal, he chatted with Leila. She was dead set on winning the promotion battle.
"You're entering too, right? Just watch—I'll crush you for sure!"
"Sigh, wipe your mouth first."
Her excited shout sent food flying. She looked like a cute golden-haired girl goddess, but acted like a rowdy elementary kid. Probably because she'd awakened as a low-level god recently. Over 100 years old, yet so childish—total mismatch.
Mental age is low, Jihun mused, reaching out to wipe the food from her mouth.
"How old are you to act this unladylike? Don't talk with food in your mouth."
"Eek..."
His hand brushed her cheek, flushing her face. She squirmed in embarrassment. But Jihun didn't dwell on it. She was beautiful, sure, but he preferred mature looks—this was just a kid to him. Unconsciously, he treated her like a close little sister. Despite her actual age dwarfing his.
Casually cleaning her up and washing his hands, he continued.
"Eh. Even if you challenge me like that, we're top of our class anyway. But there are three divine essences, right? Fighting me would just drain you—easier to take on the others."
"Hmph! I still wanna beat you."
Leila pouted, cheeks still pink.
The promotion battle was straightforward: Herd everyone into a massive arena, fight till three survivors remain. Award them divine essences for mid-level god promotion. Personal deathmatch. (Not actual death, of course—just the term.)
Jihun pondered.
Short fight? I can survive easy. Long one? Problem...
His divine power reserves were low. As a half-baked low-level god, his base amount was lacking. Others were born with inherited power from parents. Not him—he'd gathered it through effort with creation force. So his total was pitifully small.
I've covered it with skill so far...
His mastery compensated, fooling everyone. But in battle? Prolonged fights drained him fast. He needed quick wins or he'd be screwed.
If I don't fix this divine power shortage, I might lose the promotion.
It was unfair. His control was unmatched, yet raw quantity could trip him up. He racked his brain for solutions.
...
The Boundary. A abyss of darkness defying words. At the edge of void and existence, two figures stood—a man and a woman from the Ma-shin Clan.
A deep male voice echoed.
"The plan?"
A single, terse question. Yet it shook the space itself, laced with void-repelling force. Proof he wielded void power.
Alquinoa replied.
"Promotion battle soon. They'll hold it at the Boundary outskirts. When they gather, I'll lead my forces to secure the target."
Grasut frowned, displeased. Untrustworthy, it seemed. He flicked his fingers casually. Void power coalesced, birthing phenomena. Black void energy gathered, nullifying space into life—shifting into wolf forms.
Ma-su—void-born abominations.
Grasut summoned not one, but dozens, hundreds at once.
Alquinoa shuddered at his power.
This is Grasut's might...!
Each black wolf brimmed with void, capable of shredding low-level gods effortlessly. Non-existences that erased all. Summoning hundreds instantly? She couldn't match even one or two reliably.
Grasut continued.
"300 ma-su at your disposal. Capture the intelligent low-level god alive. This concerns the Ma-shin Clan's future. Success is mandatory."
"...Orders received!"
Alquinoa replied energetically, thrilled by the support.
Grasut's form faded into darkness.
"Success is mandatory... mandatory..."
His voice lingered briefly before vanishing.
“Today’s serialization ends here! Updates may be a bit delayed on weekends!”