The Spy in Uniform

Seong Sua lay on the bed still fully dressed, muttering under her breath.

"…He's not calling."

She waited for Sung Suho's call. But the smartwatch screen stayed dark, and her mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Cho Seohyun and Suho's relationship.

The man who had saved her had called Cho Seohyun — the woman standing right beside her — instead of Sua herself. Even in the middle of an emergency, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the first thing that lodged itself in Sua's head was the nature of those two's connection.

Once she pulled herself together and the incident was resolved, Suho went missing. Sua searched for him in earnest. But Cho Seohyun, standing right beside her, fretted over him just as hard — no, she looked even more desperate than Sua did.

It made no sense.

Sua had never once considered the possibility that Cho Seohyun might be interested in a man. She had written off Seohyun's concern as nothing more than a close colleague fretting over a disappeared coworker. That judgment shattered on the rooftop.

Up there, Suho and Cho Seohyun had been putting on a sweet little show they never let Sua see in ordinary life — chatting and bantering like a couple. Two people who had never seemed close at all, suddenly flirting like lovers…

And in that moment, Sua thought, She's stealing someone from my side again.

Remembering the rooftop, Sua stared holes through the dark smartwatch and whispered,

"Why won't you call me…?"

She waited for Suho's contact all night without sleeping a wink. When morning came, she headed to the cafeteria with hollow eyes — and found him there.

The way he kept checking his smartwatch made it obvious he was waiting for someone. Anxiety surged up inside her.

Me…? Or… Unnie?

Suho's posture was clearly that of a man waiting for one of the two of them. Heart trembling, Sua approached and tapped him on the back with her finger.

He turned — and beamed at her.

"Good morning."

…

…

Sua listened to Suho's explanation of what had happened, ate with him, and logged into the game together. Clinging to a body that felt ready to collapse, she played alongside him. The idea that the game itself was fun never crossed her mind. The game was not the point.

Simply being with the child-form version of Suho made her happy.

Sua had always felt a soft maternal pull when she saw young children, but she had never been able to get too close or talk too freely. They were other people's kids, and she had no desire to invite misunderstanding. Then, at some point, a substitute had appeared. Alone with young Suho, she could find peace in her heart again.

I'm happy…

But that happiness flooding in melted away three days of accumulated tension in an instant — and what the melted tension gifted her was forced sleep.

"…Huh?"

One moment she had been laughing and playing with Suho in broad daylight; the next, she came to her senses under a night sky from which the sun had completely vanished. In her field of vision: a moon bright enough to light the dark, and young Suho looking down at her.

Sua bolted upright in shock.

"W-what time is it!?"

She looked around with a self-reproachful expression.

What is this… We finally got to spend time together…

Anxiety spread through her chest like shimmering heat haze. She had dragged him into the game first thing in the morning — and then fallen asleep on him halfway through.

What if he gets angry…

Anxious, she watched Suho's face carefully. She was terrified he might be upset or dissatisfied. Terrified that her own selfishness might push his heart toward Cho Seohyun.

While she was reading his mood, Suho spoke in a gentle voice.

"Instructor Seong Sua… I'm sorry."

"…Pardon?"

Sua's expression went blank with confusion, and her anxiety only deepened.

D-don't tell me he doesn't want to play anymore!?

After a full day of fretting, every thought in her head was turning negative. While those dark thoughts churned through her mind, Suho spoke with a bitter look.

"When I think about it… you went through so much looking for me. Even though you were exhausted, you still made time for me…"

"I-it's fine. Please don't worry about it."

Sua smiled, relief flooding her inside. Suho briefly explained what had happened: not long after they started the game, she had leaned against a tree and fallen asleep. He had worried something might be wrong, but she seemed fine, so he had used her lap as a pillow and dozed off himself.

"…"

A smile rose to Sua's face of its own accord. Suho could have left the game and left her sleeping there. Nothing serious was going to happen inside VR. But he hadn't left. He had stayed and looked after her the whole time.

Suho seemed to think something over carefully, then told her what he had decided.

"I've put you through so much this time, so later on… I'll grant you one request."

"…A request?"

"Yes. Within whatever I can manage, I'll do my best to grant it."

He explained that he felt bad about how hard she had worked searching for him, and wanted to do something for her in return. Looking at Suho smiling at her, Sua thought,

…He really is a good person.

She smiled back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him.

"I'll definitely take you up on that later."

I looked at Seong Sua's bright smile and opened a channel.

…She seems better, right?

Just as Armonia said, both traits were gone.

Even Enel, for all its supposed omnipotence, could erase negative traits but not delete them permanently. As long as a human still held the memories, those traits would surface again eventually.

That was what the reincarnation system was for — discarding a broken protagonist's body and memories and transferring their functions intact into a different vessel. But that wasn't an option for Seong Sua. The system wasn't designed around survival in the first place, so it was meaningless here anyway.

I'll have to be careful. Very careful.

I reflected inwardly, played a little longer with Sua, then returned to the in-game house and went to sleep beside her.

…

…

The next morning.

Ordinarily we would have finished breakfast and gone straight into class, but before morning lessons began, the instructors received a notice to gather in the conference room. Meetings were rare to begin with — the principal only formally summoned the full instructors when something urgent came up. Today's meeting, though, had one difference.

I was attending.

Not just me — every assistant instructor was present. And once I actually walked in, I couldn't help a hollow laugh.

This is ridiculous.

The full instructors were all seated comfortably, chatting among themselves, while the rest of us assistant instructors — myself included — stood in a line waiting for the meeting to start. The instructors, settled in their chairs, began grumbling.

"Church Department's skipping again…"

"Like some of us have morning hours to spare…"

Just as they said, every instructor currently seated belonged to either the Martial Department or the Magic Department. Not a single Church Department instructor had shown up.

"Come to think of it, the Church Department took zero casualties in the last attack, right?"

"Yeah… I heard Cho Kang-hyun cleaned the whole thing up by himself."

"Damn…"

The instructors who had been badmouthing the Church Department a second ago suddenly bloomed into conversation about Cho Kang-hyun. On the surface it sounded like praise, but envy and jealousy leaked through every word.

Clack.

The door opened on a conference room full of personal chatter, and everyone fell silent, turning toward the entrance. A large, rough-faced man and a woman in an office outfit walked in — the principal and his secretary.

The principal sat at the head of the table and got straight to business.

"I've gathered everyone today regarding the matter of staff replenishment."

"Staff replenishment? Can't we just hire people?"

"You can't just hire anyone for Academy positions…"

The principal's point was simple. They had scrambled to fill some of the vacancies, but they were still short-handed, and recruiting manager-level staff was proving far from easy. Ordinary employees could be hired after a background check; managers were a different story.

Hearing this, Seong Sua glanced at the assistant instructors and murmured under her breath,

"Ah… don't tell me they're going to use them…"

"Starting today, we will temporarily assign the assistant instructors to fill the gaps left by managers and staff. It will be a nuisance for a while, but I ask for your cooperation."

The assistant instructors' faces did not look pleased. Mine didn't either. Of course not — who would be happy about forced overtime?

"For the manager positions in each section, we will take recommendations from the instructors. By the end of today, we will try to place people according to those recommendations as closely as possible."

The principal dragged the pointless meeting on a while longer before we were finally allowed to leave.

…

…

I headed alone toward the Martial Department faculty office, grumbling to myself.

What a pain…

After dismissing the other instructors, the principal had kept only the assistant instructors behind for additional instructions. Every single one of us, he said, would be assigned — no exceptions. Leaving even one or two out would breed resentment, apparently.

But there was a catch. Among the assistant instructors, some would be placed as ordinary staff and others as managers. Managers would not be chosen arbitrarily; they would be selected based on recommendations from the full instructors. So if you ended up as regular staff, he said, don't take it personally.

Naturally, skill gaps existed among the assistant instructors. Handing heavier responsibility to the more capable ones was only logical.

That just means more responsibility…

Fair point…

If I had to do the work either way, being the one giving orders was vastly better. On top of that, the principal — clearly aware he was overworking the assistant instructors — had said that if we filled the vacancies properly, he would overlook the small stuff. Extra pay, extra leave, better benefits: just hang in there for a while, he said.

I don't care about the rest, but the leave is tempting.

If I wanted to see Min Ha-yeon and Han Bom, I could just use vacation days and hop over to Yggdrasil.

But once I actually ran the cost-benefit numbers, something funny stood out.

Wait — can't managers just ask an instructor for a recommendation?

Ugh…

Right. Those noble Heroes would never dirty their hands with that kind of grunt work. "Manager" was just a title — from the instructors' point of view, managers were no different from regular staff. Ask one of them to take a manager post and you might start a riot. Hero Academy instructors were the type who found even their own jobs annoying.

I was still grumbling my way toward the Martial Department faculty office when, in the distance, a line of people in guard uniforms came into view. Seven of them. The one at the front was explaining various things to the other six.

"The campus has an emergency alarm system. I'll show you how to activate it."

These must have been the newly hired staff the principal had mentioned. I was about to walk past them while they diligently received their briefing when I suddenly felt a gaze on me.

…Hm?

One of the guards was watching me intently. The guy staring me down was around the upper 170s in height, with a fairly decent face. At first it just felt like careful observation — then it gradually shifted into a full-on glare.

Is this guy gay or something?

I turned my head, cut off my attention to the guard's stare, and started to walk on — when Armonia spoke.

Yeah? What is it?

…?

Wondering what the issue was, I turned my head and looked back at the guards — and floating above the head of the one glaring at me was something none of the other guards had.