Apocalypse or Opportunity?
"Didn't they say no classes today?"
"Yeah, we're just supposed to kill time handling paperwork or whatever..."
On the way to the Academy's main building after parking in the lot, Park Jisu—who'd been training alone by tracing shapes in the air with her fingers to grasp the concept of yang energy—tilted her head in confusion.
"What bullshit are they gonna pull this time? Another business trip?"
"Fuck off. That bald bastard's treating the vice principal like a damn errand boy."
Her lips pursed as memories of our last Japan trip flooded back—leaving her home alone, lonely as hell. Park Jisu grumbled on.
"Whether he's just using his underling or some shit went down and he needs to dump it on me, if he says go, I go."
With that, I ruffled her sulky head once, kept escorting her at the fork between the principal's office and lecture hall, then turned away.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in."
I tapped on the principal's door casually and stepped inside. Instantly, the bald head that demanded all attention jumped into view.
"Just how much longer until you stop obsessing over my head and start having normal human relationships?"
"What can I do? My eyes just go there automatically."
With the principal's desk facing away from the window, opening the door meant the sunlight hit you right in the face—blinding, brow-furrowing agony. The perpetrator couldn't care less about the victim's plight, his selfish assholery making my lips pout naturally.
"..."
Clang!
The principal glared silently, no warning signs at all—yet suddenly, something ricocheted off near my forehead with a sharp ping.
Hmm... faster than I thought. Space-type, so it's less about reacting after seeing and more about predicting on sight.
I glanced down. A fountain pen lay broken on the floor, ink splattered everywhere. I couldn't help but smirk.
"Nng!"
An S-rank hunter wielding space concepts, even tossing it lightly—no infant summoner should've blocked it so casually.
"...I heard you didn't clear any special gates and just holed up at home..."
"Holed up, sure—but at this stage, internal training beats field experience, right?"
I grinned, plopping onto the sofa smack in the middle of the office. The bald guy's eyes shot daggers, utterly baffled.
Common wisdom held summons weaker than their masters but good for unexpected tricks beyond their kit. So Nangkangi—crawling from my shoulder up over my head, bristling all fuzzy—was straight-up alien to any normal awakener.
He'd sniffed something similar before, but blocking his attack outright must've shocked him proper.
The principal's arched brow and feigned calm eyes reminded me of past reactions to my powers indirectly. Racking my brain, I realized this was his first time seeing Nangkangi post-wyvern slaughter and tower loot binge. My head nodded on its own.
"Kids grow fast, don't they?"
"You call a spider a kid?"
"The size, the antics... what else you gonna call it?"
"..."
I pointed casually at Nangkangi tickling my scalp—up to who-knows-what fuckery. The principal, mid-retort, glared with twitching eyes, squeezed his shut, and sighed like the earth was caving in.
"The master's a retard, and the summon's no better... Hoo..."
His flushed face and clenched fist? Nangkangi must've provoked him like our first meeting or worse. I chuckled, leaning back slow on the sofa.
"Anyway, why'd you call me in? Another rogue gate like last time?"
He shot a glance at Nangkangi—byproduct of that rogue gate bullshit—shook his head, and whoosh, a file folder appeared before my eyes in a blink.
Pre-sensed and just paperwork, unlike the pen—Nangkangi stared down blankly. Having tasted the sweet rush of skill gains from the wyvern hunt, it eyed me then the principal eagerly.
Could use it for auto-defense like before... but space means teleport's way handier.
One day, it'd whisk me anywhere on command. Fantasizing, I cracked open the folder.
"Otherworld... ization? What the hell is this?"
Early grad or not, I'd been drilled on gates as an Academy cadet. Unheard terms and baffling scenarios furrowed my brow.
"Just as it says—odd phenomena cropping up in border fringe zones past the national line lately."
"Odd how?"
"What do you do first when a gate appears?"
Sudden throwback to freshman-sophomore basics. No clue why, but his grin faded to dead serious. I scratched my head awkwardly.
"Scan mana with the detector, sync the device to the rank... y'know, the manual."
"Right. Gates came with trial-and-error protocols."
He nodded, chewing my words, sighed, and rubbed his eyes wearily.
"We handle 'em routine, clear periodically, harvest resources. But this is different."
Glancing at the file in my hand, he trailed off. Unease bubbled as I scanned the text.
"Post-Pyongyang Code Blue gate clear, otherworldization spreading in the area... New gates showing same—needs prompt review...?"
Logically got it, emotionally? Nah. I turned to him like wtf. No prior cases for him either—he just shrugged, prepping for the future.
"New gates erode reality post-clear—like uncleared. Plain text."
"Fuck?"
"Yeah. Fuck. Heh. Korea's got few spawn spots, so maybe not—but China's and America's shithouses right now. Reports in every damn language piling up daily... Can't do real work."
His griping face triggered a thought, blurting past filters.
"...This just fucking new gates, right?"
Whether cleared or not, reality getting chewed by gate environs—naive to think it stopped at old vs. new. My slip hung the room in silence as he smirked wryly.
"Fuck... don't answer. I get the gist."
"Mm... Rude, but competent underlings make life easy."
No more posturing—he cackled. My head spun.
"Frankly, it's not just new—otherworldization explodes worldwide whenever gates get cleared, post some cutoff."
"...How long we got?"
"Hmm... Most cleared early year, so maybe three months?"
"Gov's take?"
"Obvious—'insufficient evidence,' 'watch the trend.' Bullshit."
"Oh..."
"Anyway, prep yourself. Fun world's coming. Heh."
Serious shit, but he grinned like a maniac, dismissing me. Every damn awakener's nuts—I'm the only sane one. Headshake.
Still... power rules the world? Yeah, that'd be fun.
The itch for strength, dulled by tourist jaunts worldwide, flared anew.