A Slap Across the Face

The Japanese delinquent who got slapped out of nowhere froze for a moment despite being easily twice Renka's size. Then he shot to his feet, shouting, "Y-you bitch! Do you want to die? Do you even know who I am...!" But smack—this time the back of her hand caught him across the right cheek.

That had to hurt. Even from a distance, Renka's slap looked vicious. The sight was deeply satisfying, yet I couldn't understand why she was doing it, so questions swirled in my head.

Wait, why is she getting involved here?

Why would Renka slap that delinquent on my behalf? Could it really be because of me? Logically, there was no reason for a Japanese person—especially a Japanese noble like Renka—to take the side of a Korean like me.

Of course, after we hunted the monster yesterday, she had approached me with a friendly handshake and introduction. But that couldn't have been goodwill toward a Korean student. It was probably nothing more than basic courtesy between classmates.

In fact, the moment the guild member shouted that I was Korean, she had withdrawn her hand like a blade. And when I squared off against ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her guild member, her intervention was far more likely about preserving the dignity of a major guild than about siding with me.

Following that logic, Renka slapping the delinquent probably wasn't meant to help me either. Then why...?

Maybe she just got pissed off at those punks?

Now that I thought about it, the Japanese delinquents had been sneering earlier with lines like "This time the Joseon bastards even dragged a woman along" and "Joseon people are a nuisance whether they're men or women." They must have mistaken both Renka and me standing by the door as Koreans.

And Renka, suddenly lumped in as a "Chosonjing" and insulted, had clearly taken serious offense.

That must be it.

As proof, Renka was telling the delinquent, "I have no interest in who you are. Take back what you said earlier."

"What?"

"All that talk about Joseon people."

Her voice was ice-cold. Being treated as Korean had apparently wounded her pride deeply.

"What did you say? Hmph! A son of the Great Japanese Empire never goes back on his word! Do you think I'd retract something I've already said? I am Murasaki! My father is Police Chief Murasaki of the Jongno Police Station! I don't know who a wench like you—"

"Is that so?"

Smack—! The delinquent who had been boasting about his father being a police chief received another slap from Renka.

"Damn it! This woman! I won't hold back anymore!"

The beaten delinquent was just about to draw the Japanese sword at his waist when one of his gang suddenly turned deathly pale, as if he'd seen a ghost.

"S-S-S-Shimazu young lady?"

The one reaching for his blade flinched hard.

"What?"

"It's the Shimazu family! The noble house! It's Lady Shimazu Renka!"

Blood drained from the delinquent's face and his expression froze solid. His gang forcibly shoved the stiffened bully toward the door.

"L-Let's go, Murasaki!"

"......"

"L-Lady Shimazu! Please excuse us!"

With that, the pack of delinquents fled the restaurant in a hurry. The gukbap house fell silent in an instant.

In the heavy quiet that followed, Renka spun around, long hair whipping behind her, and turned to face me. Then she smiled with her eyes and said, "I caused a bit of a commotion. My apologies."

Is this girl insane?

She had just slapped the son of a police chief because her mood was ruined, then suddenly smiled as if it were nothing. I was now certain.

She's not normal either.

"I'll head up first, Shirabayashi-san... Ah!"

Renka, who had started to turn away, pivoted back toward me as if she'd remembered something.

"I forgot to mention this. It's regarding the gate incident at the Myeongnyunjeong 2nd Street intersection yesterday. Thanks to your swift initial response, we were able to minimize ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠damage to the surrounding area considerably, and our Shimazu-gumi's operation proceeded far more smoothly."

She explained it calmly, then gave a slight bow.

"As representative of the Gyeongseong branch of our Shimazu-gumi, I wanted to express my gratitude in person. ...Well then, since my schedule is quite tight, I'll take my leave first."

With those words, Renka turned sharply and left the restaurant. Outside, her waiting attendant opened the rear door of a black luxury car. Once she climbed into the back seat, the vehicle carrying her drove off up the mountain path and disappeared into the distance.

"......"

I stepped out of the restaurant and watched for a moment before speaking to Song Byeong-o, who was still frozen in place.

"Let's head up too."

"...Uh, y-yeah. Let's."

I passed beneath the archway bearing the sign for Gyeongseong Hunter Academy and started up the mountain path toward the school. Staring at the spot far above where her car had vanished, I thought,

Fucking terrifying. Shit.

That delinquent earlier was the son of a police chief. And not just any station—the infamous Jongno Police Station. Someone with that much power, yet Renka had casually rained fiery slaps on his son without hesitation.

Just how much influence does this Shimazu-gumi guild actually have? Or are Japanese nobles simply above the law?

The delinquents were bad enough, but that girl Renka seemed like someone I should stay far away from. She had bowed to me in thanks at the end, but after the way she acted earlier, I couldn't accept it as simple goodwill.

A noble lady who would beat the son of a police chief like a dog simply because she got lumped in with Koreans and insulted! If her pride were ever wounded, burying a Korean student like me would be child's play for her.

No matter what happens, I must not get entangled with her......

In the back seat of the luxury Buick climbing the mountain path, Renka leaned back with a faint smile and murmured, "With this incident, he must have developed some trust in me, right?"

At the baseless question, her attendant Takahiro, who held the steering wheel, asked, "Trust, my lady?"

Renka sank deeper into the crimson cowhide seat. "I mean Shirabayashi-san."

"Why does my lady take such an interest in that Joseon..." Takahiro glanced at her through the rearview mirror, then quickly corrected himself under her sharp gaze. "...in that student?"

Renka answered with absolute certainty. "Because there is something about him."

Baek Chulyeon. There was definitely something about him.

Unlike her, he was merely an ordinary Joseon student, yet he had confronted magic beasts with practical skill and seasoned composure equal to her own. Witnessing it had felt like a direct denial of her entire seventeen years of life—born into a warrior family and forged through brutal training from childhood to reach this level.

After seeing that and receiving no small shock, she could not rest until she learned exactly what kind of person he was and how he had acquired such ability.

I must uncover it...!

That was why she had decided to approach him naturally under the guise of goodwill. For a noble like her, winning someone's favor was as easy as twisting a baby's wrist.

The only obstacle was...

His identity as a Joseon person.

He came from a pro-Japanese family granted the inland surname "Shirabayashi," yet he stubbornly kept the Joseon name "Baek Chulyeon." Even yesterday when they introduced themselves, he had offered his Korean name first.

It was clear proof of strong ethnic pride. And that same pride could make her status as a Japanese noble a disadvantage in winning his favor.

But on the contrary, I can use that very point.

Strong pride could become a weakness when turned against itself. The way she had deliberately appeared at the restaurant where he was eating was the perfect example. By showing that even a noble would visit such a humble Joseon eatery, she had left a favorable impression and softened his psychological defenses.

On top of that, she had demonstrated the humility of personally bowing her head in thanks on behalf of the Shimazu-gumi despite her high status. With this much effort invested, he should have shed his prejudice against Japanese nobles, gained favorable feelings toward her, and even felt gratitude.

"Well... even if you say so, my lady," Takahiro said. "Was it truly necessary to treat the son of the Jongno police chief—Murasaki, was it?—so harshly?"

"It wasn't part of the plan, but it worked out for the best. Thanks to this, the impression that I am someone who stands up for Joseon people should have been firmly planted in Shirabayashi-san's mind."

The moment she entered the restaurant and heard the sneering insults against Koreans, it had been the perfect opportunity. By personally punishing the one who despised Joseon people in front of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Baek Chulyeon—a man with unshakable pride as a Joseon person—her favor and trustworthiness must have soared.

"Besides, he's only a police chief's son. It's not as if he's the son of the Director of the Government-General's Police Bureau. What could someone like that possibly do to me?"

"Well, that is true."

Takahiro nodded in agreement. In truth, it was exactly as Renka said. The Shimazu family's status as nobles within the empire needed no explanation, and compared to the Shimazu-gumi—which was expanding its branches across Joseon and even into Manchuria—a mere Jongno Police Station was nothing more than a single precinct responsible for one district in the imperial city of Gyeongseong.

A delinquent who swaggered around with riffraff on the borrowed authority of being such a minor police chief's son had never been worth her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠attention to begin with.

Her only interest now was Shirabayashi—Baek Chulyeon.

Shirabayashi-san. I will definitely uncover the secret you are hiding.

Renka gazed at her reflection in the car window.

Even if it means using in reverse that fierce pride you hold as a Joseon person...

I should just defect from this damn country and head to America already, shit.

After walking up the mountain path for about ten minutes in the warm spring weather of early April, I found myself cursing why they had built the school in the mountains. Every step felt like my strength was being sucked away, the same way it had during reserve forces training when I was dragged there in uniform.

Even if I graduated, it would still be hell-Joseon. What wealth and glory was I hoping to gain that required me to trudge up and down this mountain path for three years...?

And all while enduring pressure from the Japanese students on top of it.

It would be better to go to American soil three years earlier and open a laundry or something...

Just as that thought crossed my mind—

"Whoa!"

The slope finally eased, and when the full view of the school built deep in the Bukhansan foothills appeared, I forgot my exhaustion and let out a pure exclamation of awe.

"This is insane. How the hell did they build something like this in the mountains? They're crazy."

Given how deep in the mountains it was and the era we were in, I had expected a few cement-brick buildings that looked like military barracks with a sign saying "This is a school." Instead, the actual sight was far more impressive than anticipated.

The main building was a majestic reddish-brown brick structure covered in ivy that gave off an antique, stately air. Scattered across the spacious grounds were a large auditorium, annexes, separate wings, dormitories, faculty research buildings, and more. It genuinely felt like the campus of a historic university.

Of course, "specialized schools" in this period were indeed institutions of higher education at a semi-university level. Still, it was astonishing that a technical school—which was strictly not a true university—had been built on this scale.

It was a sight completely worthy of the name Hunter Academy.

"This is exciting..."

"Have you never been here before? Stop gawking so much! You're embarrassing even me..."

Song Byeong-o, walking beside me, pulled his student cap down and scolded, but I kept looking around in wonder. It couldn't be helped—I had no memory of visiting the school on the preliminary convocation day.

"And listen. Now that we've passed the main gate, it's about time you—" Song Byeong-o straightened his clothes and continued, "start speaking in Japanese. Of course you'll manage, but I'm saying this just in case your Korean slips and gets noticed."

Ah. This was the Japanese colonial period, and quite late in it at that. Outside the school it might not matter, but inside, the use of Japanese was mandatory.

The sorrow of a lost country strikes again...

Even so, that historical tragedy didn't make me shrink back. Honestly, right now I was filled with anticipation.

Looking back, my school days in the 21st century had been ordinary and boring. The chance to return to youth and experience school life again made my heart race with secret excitement...!

And this wasn't an ordinary school—it was a Hunter Academy!

Even though my mental age was well over thirty and I was mature, and no matter that this was a world ruled by the Japanese, I couldn't help feeling my pulse quicken at the thought of the school life ahead.

"We should line up over there. Let's go."

"Okay."

We joined the stream of students heading toward the playground in front of the main building. Following the instructors' directions, we formed neat rows facing the podium.

On the podium hung a long banner, and the flags of all nations draped down toward the field.

Good...

It was starting now. From today, I would be a student here at Gyeongseong Hunter Academy. In 21st-century terms, a Hunter Academy student!

Of course, it wasn't pure excitement. I wasn't naive enough to think the road ahead would be easy.

Although I hadn't attended one in my previous life, I knew that even in 21st-century Hunter Academies, countless students dropped out after suffering injuries that left them crippled, or even died during training. The era might be different, but the reality would be the same now. Perhaps even harsher.

Since this was the past, safety awareness would be lower and none of the advanced magic-engineering safety devices from the 21st century would exist.

But in my previous life, I had been an active hunter who crossed gates for nearly ten years. Compared to that experience, the academy would be nothing.

Monster response training? Practical exercises that mimicked real combat? To someone who had crossed the brink of death multiple times, it wasn't even amusing.

And the ethnic contempt or discrimination from Japanese classmates like this morning's incident was, at most, child's play from seventeen-year-old brats. To an adult like me who had endured countless slights and disregard among hunters while still surviving as one, it was laughable.

No matter what difficulties came, I was confident I could overcome them all and graduate.

"A-, a-. Before we begin the entrance ceremony proceedings..."

Once all the students were lined up and preparations were complete, the middle-aged instructor acting as emcee stepped onto the podium and spoke into the microphone.

"Before conducting the entrance ceremony, we will perform the bow to the imperial palace. Everyone, right face!"

Wait, what the hell? A bow to the imperial palace? That was bowing toward the Japanese emperor. I had learned about it in history class, but now I actually had to do it?

I had no choice. Following the command "Migi muke migi (right face)," I turned to the right—facing east.

Then came the order to remove our caps. After I took mine off, the command rang out: "Bow to the imperial palace—saikeirei!" It clearly meant to bow.

Following the other students, I stood at attention with both hands at my sides and bent at the waist to a perfect ninety degrees.

Solemn music flowed from the speakers.

I followed along by watching everyone else, but inside I felt deeply uncomfortable, so I repeated to myself,

I stand before the proud Taegeukgi, for the infinite glory of the Republic of Korea...

"Return!"

Only then was I allowed to straighten, but it still wasn't over.

"Next, we will observe a moment of silence for the eternal martial prosperity of the Imperial Army and for the fallen soldiers. Everyone, silent tribute!"

This time I lowered my head. Music played briefly again, then at the command "Return," I raised my head.

Whew... That was long. It was finally over. Now they would begin the actual entrance ceremony...

They really were doing everything. Like a soldier in the final days of his military service, I mumbled along, riding the wave of the other students' responses. I didn't know the exact wording anyway, and even if I had, I wouldn't have wanted to recite such garbage.

The entrance ceremony hadn't even properly begun yet, but I was already exhausted. What was worse was knowing this was merely standard ceremonial procedure. Not only today, but every morning assembly and every event would repeat these same rituals.

I had resolved to overcome any difficulty and graduate, but I was already facing a major obstacle from the very first day.

I have to put up with this shit for three whole years......?