Whispers of the Otherworld
The large TV in the middle of the living room blared with the anchor's excited voice: [To verify the truth behind the swirling rumors and questions about the rumored "isekai transformation" currently circulating...] Behind her, footage rolled of ordinary people and Awakeners alike, putting on that familiar special report vibe we'd all seen a million times on the news. A few of my classmates gathered in the room shifted tensely—legs jiggling, throats gulping—and the sounds reached my ears. I slowly scanned the group.
Five faces came into view. There was Jeong Jae-kyung, the mastermind who'd somehow wrangled our entire class into his orbit with his social savvy and skills, despite always getting shit on and treated like a retard for being a smug prick. Then the class rep, Lee Tae-gun—a hulking brute with a reliable vibe, quiet demeanor, the kind of guy you'd think could rein in a smartass like Jeong. But as the sayings go, birds of a feather flock together, the wise befriend the wise, it's six of one, half a dozen of the other. Keeping a normal personality squeezed between me and Jeong was about as likely as snatching stars from the sky. Now the girls whispered he was the real fake "normal" one, egging on the crazies. And over there, Park Jisu, ignoring the world and flirting shamelessly with the twin girls.
Those two are dying to devour Jisu... Yumi and Yura, right?
Fun fact I'd recently learned: thanks to Jisu's behind-the-scenes scheming, she didn't have much overlap with other girls, but those two were the only ones who played with her like this—obsessively doting to the point of excess. Even with their just-okay faces, their names popped into my head naturally, and I nodded to myself.
"Hey, what're the others doing? Why just you guys here?"
"No clue? If they've got brains, they're probably huddled up watching TV too."
Jeong Jae-kyung sipped his coffee nonchalantly, eyes glued to the screen. Lee Tae-gun picked up, casual as if it was no big deal.
"Feels kinda like freshman year all over again, doesn't it? Might as well ride the wave since we're already gathered—thanks to you, San, and your setup. They're probably thinking it's smart to stay on standby."
"Yeah... better than too many cooks, I guess."
Like Tae-gun said, sure, I was calling the shots, but excluding raw power, I hadn't exactly proven myself as the glue holding the class together. Or had I? Wait, no...? Freshman year I did go overboard playing class rep, acting all fake and shit...
Fuzzy memories from first year surfaced, but whatever— if they were cool following my lead, I wasn't dumb enough to fuck it up. I nodded vaguely and stood.
"What time again?"
"15:30? That's the recorded clear time, but factoring in broadcast delays, figure sometime before—roughly."
Park Jisu, fiddling with her pad alongside the twins, checking outfits and accessories, beat everyone to the punch like she'd anticipated my question about the gate clear time.
"Aww... our cute little Jisu's totally whipped for San now..."
"She puts on an act, but when it's just us girls, we run her ragged. 'Water!' and she fetches it."
Hating how whipped she looked, the twins smirked slyly—their innocent teddy bear vibe twisted into something dirtier now. They started groping Jisu's body all over.
"Hey, stop! Where you touching?!"
Poor soft-hearted Jisu—despite her martial arts training, she melted for friends. They mauled her tits, ass, everywhere, and all she did was blush and squirm, no real fight. I snorted and turned to Jeong Jae-kyung.
Thwack!
"Ow! Fuck, why'd you hit me?!"
"Eyes front, asshole. Don't stare at my girl..."
"Your girl my ass... Single guys get no love..."
"Jealous? Go make one. You're the one stubbornly hung up on furry shit."
Truth was, Awakeners got physical buffs and mana-enhanced bodies—no one was that ugly. Decent students got pro-athlete treatment, so landing a normal girlfriend was easy as pie. Yet here was Jeong Jae-kyung, clinging to his virgin purity like a last stand. I shook my head.
"Anyway! You going?"
He cut me off quick, guessing I'd roast him harder. Tempted to troll more—his reaction was pathetic—but the clock showed it nearing 15:00 like Jisu said. I scratched my head and nodded.
"Gotta. If this isekai bullshit or whatever hits, net and news are gonna go full apocalypse mode—obvious as day."
"Mm... I gotta go too?"
"Nah, you stay. No telling what happens—need someone to hold the fort. You and Tae-gun."
Lee Tae-gun, eyeing me and the news alternately, signaling he'd join, got a chin tilt from me. He grinned, nodded, and stood.
"Even if that weed-ass principal's got your back, folks know we gather here sometimes—stay sharp. No one but me or Tae-gun inside the grounds, got it?"
A bit since I'd started trading hair growth serum with him—vast wastelands sprouting greenery now. Jeong shuddered reflexively at the dig, then nodded like a maniac.
This fucker must've met the principal. Heh.
Word was, post-awakening, social upheaval and stress hit him with sudden baldness. Decades skull-shined. Skinhead suited Western thugs, not East Asian principal types—a curse, not style. Front-facing, he was Korea's S-rank academy head, all "cool grandpa!" But anyone online knew the hate. Imagine that lifelong bald joke turning leafy?
He'd wanna brag.
Principal flashed in my mind—always cocky with power, but now strutting like a peacock. If only not for those patchy lawn-sprout fuzzies on his dome... Last visit, I rolled laughing; he cackled too. Still useful, so I hooked him up generous—like insurance. He eyed that serum like treasure. Pitiful when it ran out, who'd he become? The thought passed with pity.
"Anyway, hold down the fort. We're out."
"Yeah, scram."
Jeong waved lazily—slacker pose, but hunter eyes on the news betrayed him. Tae-gun and I exchanged looks, shook heads, and dipped.
+++
"Fuck... ha... Shoulda warned me you'd walk. Hah..."
"Dumbass. You think we'd drive in this? Dumbass bear fetus."
On the rooftop overlooking the street, crowds of civilians and oddballs swarmed below. Traffic jam? Full paralysis. I'd parked home, lightfoot across. Tae-gun, thinking a casual drive to the gate's retake zone, panted soaked like a drowned rat.
A buff dude gasping, sweat-drenched... This guy's the real solo dude from some SF world, huh?
Hurts he's a friend—can't ditch him.