B-Class Jeers and Bold Choices

"Why the hell are you here...?"

Thud, thud. With every step down the hall, stinging glares pierced him from every direction.

"...Am I a dog or something? That guy who placed 410th..."

"Looks like it. With that face, it's gotta be."

"Doesn't seem like it on the outside, though."

"How much bribery does it take for an F-Class kid to climb all the way to B...?"

"Maybe his talent exploded? It's not A or higher, so it's possible, right?"

"Hey, that's still within reason. A D-Class jumping to C is already a dragon from the shallows. But skipping several ranks at once? Give me a break."

"Anyway, it's obvious he pulled some dirty trick. Losers like that always do. Or maybe he seduced someone with that pretty face? There are plenty of female instructors—maybe one offered to bump him up."

"Dude, cut the lowbrow jokes..."

"What? Even if he did, he's still trash. You think he'd hang with us just 'cause he scraped by?"

Sneering laughter and contemptuous stares washed over him, unmasked and echoing right in his ears.

'What should I have for lunch? Give me some recommendations, Kay.'

I've been craving mala tang for the first time in ages.

'Huh? Of course I'm enjoying it.'

'You already forgot? How much shit I ate in my past life—diverse and endless varieties.'

Kay fell silent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for a moment before agreeing.

'Whoa, stop there. Even if it's true, hearing it straight up hurts.'

'Kidding. Kidding. After hearing all that crap in my eighty years, this is cute. This is it.'

And it really was. At worst, it was just mockery from immature kids whose blood hadn't even boiled yet. Not like they broke in at midnight for a stabbing. Not like they straight-up tried to kill him with skills. This was tame—hell, it was laughable.

Crucially, he'd endured far too much real shit to get pissed over this.

'And damn, what good kids they are.'

'Take a look.'

'What the fuck? Sexual interest?'

Anyway, every glance and word right now was turning into flesh and bone for him. Sweet, sugary flesh and bone at that.

Word must've spread—his point intake was noticeably higher. And it would only snowball from here.

'Jackpot, absolute jackpot.'

Grinning ear to ear, he spotted the plaque marked B. Even at a glance, it screamed money poured into it.

'B-Class and up really gets the noble treatment.'

In this world that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strictly divided ranks by power and bloodline, Prunel Academy's class grades were basically a caste system.

'Graduating at B or higher guarantees respect anywhere.'

That's why the initial assignment had surprised him. It was higher than expected.

'I figured it'd be C or below for sure.'

So he'd had zero expectations for his first placement... but apparently Cheonwigwang, that old man, had pulled some strings. Probably catching heat from the association's inspectors right about now.

'Whatever. Time to head in.'

He grabbed the doorknob and flung the door open with force. It slammed against the wall with a bang!, naturally drawing every eye in the room.

Mostly familiar faces. Awakeners who'd make names for themselves later, one way or another. A few had fallen to villainy, but that just proved their talent.

Basking in the stares, he strode in confidently.

"...Who's that?"

"Choi Siwoo. The one confirmed F-Class."

"He's really in B-Class. What the fuck?"

"Annoying... Look at him smirking. Shouldn't we kick his ass out now?"

'Yeah, yeah, trash talk all you want.'

Your attention? I'll gladly take it.

Pondering where to sit, a bubbly voice cut through.

"Siwoo! Over here, over here!"

A bright-eyed girl waved enthusiastically. Ohana—the third time he'd seen her face.

The room's reaction was pure bewilderment.

"What? He's tight with the Ohana clan?"

"Dude, is he really a gold digger? Climbed on bloodline privilege? We badmouth him, and we're fucked later!"

"Rumors say he's some high-ranker's bastard. Explains the bribery."

'Bastard? Please...'

Orphan with no parents here—what fantasy is this?

Anyway, he played along and took the seat beside her.

"Didn't expect us in the same class. Anyway, proper intro: Ohana, 17, B-Class. Mid-range sub-DPS and assassin! Nice to meet ya."

"Yeah, nice to meet you."

Still as chatty as ever.

"You okay, though?"

"Huh? With what?"

She jerked her chin around the room.

"You got ears. You heard 'em. Don't wanna get burned associating with me."

Not that anyone dumb enough would touch the Ohana clan, but she'd take a rep hit. He didn't like the idea of her getting isolated because of him.

She stared back, looking at him like he was the weird one.

"Your skills are legit. No need for dirty tricks when you're that strong. All rumors—ignore 'em. And friends? You pick who you want."

Ahem! She crossed her arms proudly. He chuckled softly.

Past life or this one, classic Ohana answer.

They were chatting lightly before class when a commotion erupted—way louder than when he'd entered.

"Wh-what? For real?"

"He's actually in B-Class...?"

Shocked gasps drew his eyes to a familiar face: gray-haired boy with a bruised forehead and bandages everywhere.

'...Song Junho?'

He rubbed his eyes, but nope—it was him. Spotting Choi Siwoo, he headed straight over.

'What the fuck?'

He gaped in disbelief.

'Why's this guy here?'

A-Class lock, right? Did losing to me drop him to B?

Nah, impossible. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠No idiot instructor would relegate the Light Demon Sword performer to B.

Before he could sort his thoughts, Song Junho was right there.

"Seat next to you's empty. Mind if I sit?"

"...Why the hell are you here?"

He sat without waiting.

"Hmm, back row feels weird. Always sat front before. Choi... Siwoo, right? Song Junho. Nice to meet you."

"...Dude. Skip the casual intro—why are you here? Should be A-Class at least. You got bumped to B for real?"

"Nah, assigned to S-Class."

This motherfucker said S? Not even A—S?

Sensing his darkening mood, he hurried on.

"But I went to the principal myself and requested a downgrade."

"...Why?"

"Me in S after that pathetic loss? Doesn't make sense. They offered A, but..."

"But?"

"Heard you were in B, so I asked for that. He hesitated at first, but my persistence won out."

"Why the fuck would you...?"

"Figured being next to you beats any other instructor for real growth. Plus, easier to repay the favor in the same class."

"You little shit!"

He couldn't hold back his rage. Song Junho flinched like a rabbit before a beast.

'Goddamn it! Doesn't he get how valuable higher classes are?!'

Classes weren't just letters. Gear, elixirs for achievements—tangible perks. All buyable with cash, sure, but the real prize? Lesson quality.

Top instructors went to top classes. Lower ones got scraps.

'Weekends allow outside lecturers, but still limits...'

He'd maxed out experiences already, but this kid? Wandering without proper guidance—he needed prime lessons.

Wanted to grab his head and shove him back to S, but...

'Calm down. Calm the fuck down, Choi Siwoo.'

Only their third meet. Too hostile, and the kid would bolt.

"Whew... Sorry for snapping. Your call, can't argue. But you sure you won't regret it?"

Song Junho looked puzzled.

"Regret?"

"Yeah. You're not dumb—you know the quality gap."

"That's exactly why I chose B."

"...What?"

He gazed at Choi Siwoo with admiring eyes. Fuck, dude staring like that made him wanna gouge 'em out—but he restrained.

"Learning from you beats any other instructor."

"......"

This kid... thinks I'll teach him easy?

'Already playing smart?'

"And we'll both climb soon anyway, right?"

"......"

Spot-on logic left him speechless. The kid's face shone with near-certainty.

'...True, but him believing it that hard pisses me off a bit.'

Like the proverb: a needle in a bag pricks through. His S-Class ascent was inevitable. B was just envy and pressure. True talents rise regardless.

'Sigh... Think positive.'

He decided to see this as a stepping stone. They shook hands. As Ohana exchanged greetings, the classroom door opened quietly.

The rowdy kids fell pin-drop silent at the man with the distinctive nameplate on his chest. Short white sporty hair, sharp features, wolf-like golden eyes.

The man once codenamed White Wolf.

Kang Hanseong had arrived.