The 40-Mile Gauntlet
Three days remained until the assignment exam. It was more than enough time if you were simply looking for skilled people, but completely impossible if you wanted someone who would actually listen to orders. Skilled hunters usually had egos the size of skyscrapers, after all. Cases like Shannon, who couldn’t even accurately gauge her own ability, were extremely rare. On top of that, the role our team desperately needed was a “supporter”—what people often called a support mage. With two close-range attackers and one long-range attacker already on the roster, nothing was more urgently required.
The problem was that supporters made a lot of money. You only had to look at Cheon Mari to see it—most hunters who earned serious cash had egos that scraped the heavens. Towering pride paired with oversized self-worth. In other words, the mental state of any supporter with decent skills tended to be somewhat hazardous. Even back when I ran dungeons wearing a Nartika badge, I frequently ran into supporters who flat-out refused orders. They acted like nobility. That was why picking the right supporter was essential if a team wanted optimal results.
“Are you kidding me? I put up a recruitment post and every single applicant comes with a laundry list of demands?”
Yet trying to find someone suitable felt utterly hopeless. The supporters back in Korea had been bad enough, but the ones here were on another level.
This team wasn’t going to last forever anyway. We only needed to survive one day of testing. At this point I was seriously wondering whether we needed to be this sincere about recruitment. That was when Solomon Cheon, who could make anyone feel secondhand embarrassment just by existing, delivered a shocking solution.
“If the supporter is the problem, why not just not use a supporter?”
It was the kind of enlightened declaration that declared the root of all suffering was humanity itself, therefore humanity must be eliminated. For someone who ran a corporation, her idea was aggressively innovative.
“Mari, wouldn’t that turn us into a full-damage dealer squad?”
“This lady wouldn’t know about that.”
Innovative ideas and brilliant futures were not always the same thing. It wasn’t as if corporations wrecked their reputations by chasing innovation for no reason. After much struggle, we settled on a four-attacker composition. In game terms, it was a rootless 4-DPS party. A tank might have been logical, but the reason we went with four pure attackers was simple: without a supporter, what was the point of dragging along some sturdy meat shield? Besides, none of us were particularly slow, so the prevailing opinion was to bet everything on mobility.
Nobody had an answer for what would happen when that mobility ran out and our stamina hit rock bottom, of course. I felt like we were screwed, yet even Shannon—the one with the worst physical endurance—passionately agreed. She didn’t seem to consider for a second that she might have to double as both attacker and supporter in an emergency.
“This feels doomed.”
“You worry too much. From what I’ve seen, we can half-ass this exam and still be fine. Right, Miss Shannon?”
“Um… Even I think Mr. Sian doesn’t need to take it that seriously…”
Back and forth they went. The two of them had a surprisingly decent relationship. From this exchange, it was clear that Cheon Mari didn’t think much of Shannon, the “rolling stone” who had joined us. They weren’t exactly strangers, and Mari already knew Shannon’s skills were decent. That was probably why she had immediately agreed when I suggested adding her—no objections at all. I had expected resistance regardless of talent, so it was quite surprising.
“See~? Even Miss Shannon agrees~ Just half-ass it~”
“…Sigh. Fine.”
A short while later we managed to drag a mage into the party. The selection criteria put stamina first, magical ability second. Naturally, ordinary mages had few opportunities to train their physical endurance. In the end we met a mage who had clearly misallocated her stats at a café.
“Hellooo!!!”
“Holy shit.”
Together with that thunderous greeting, the mage appeared. Me, Cheon Mari, and Shannon could only stare blankly at her hulking, muscular frame. She looked like she’d been mainlining steroids. At that point I genuinely wondered why she hadn’t simply become a fighter instead of a mage. Completely unbothered by our stares, she sat down confidently in the remaining seat.
“Uh… Coffee?”
“Yep! Thank you!”
The mage—no, the power-mage—had apparently been rejected everywhere else, so she added extra thanks for finally being accepted. Honestly, who would look at that physique and think “mage”? Nine out of ten people would assume she was an insane gym rat fighter. The fact that she hadn’t been picked before was an obvious consequence. As for the tenth person, they had probably despaired at the concept of a “power mage” entirely. After all, mastering even one path was difficult enough for most people. Those who tried to master two paths at once, like her, usually ended up mediocre at both. Even if she possessed her own convictions and drive to fuel her training, people like her always had at least one screw loose. It meant she could potentially harm the team. She might even drag all of us down a horrific road.
Which was why I decided not to remember her name for long. She had never appeared in the game anyway. It definitely wasn’t because I was terrified of getting dragged to the gym if I got too involved. Absolutely not.
“Still, you all look like you can fight pretty well, so that’s a relief!”
“Y-yeah…”
And so it was. With the addition of a power mage who looked ready to throw physical Magic Missiles, our team was complete. We registered with the academy immediately. The receptionist stared at us with an expression that screamed “four attackers?” before processing our application anyway.
“The assignment exam course and other details will be released at 3 p.m. today. Please be sure to check the academy homepage!”
It was an awkward time, so we waited. When we finally checked, the academy homepage contained nothing but a single map and one announcement. The moment I saw the map, I let out a groan.
“What the hell is this?”
It was wildly different from what I had expected. Last year the test had involved a relatively short course filled with various trials that were then evaluated. But this…
“From Arecibo to Ponce?”
“They say it’s only about forty miles.”
“Miles? Yards? Pounds? How many kilometers is forty miles?”
“One mile is 1.6 kilometers, so… roughly sixty-four kilometers?”
“…Wasn’t it around sixteen kilometers last year?”
It was a full marathon. The bigger problem was the mention of obstacles and tasks placed along the route. Even if it resembled last year’s format, the increased distance made the prospect feel overwhelmingly negative. Frankly, it was questionable whether anyone could complete the entire thing in a single day. The old testing grounds in Shareltea were unusable, but this felt too raw, too unrefined. If they were going to do this, it would have been far better to apply the same short evaluation criteria to everyone.
Exam Notice
Unauthorized vehicles prohibited… Must reach Ponce using only personal strength… Basic supplies will be provided, however bringing personal water bottles, food, etc. is permitted…
“At least they have some conscience. Last year personal belongings were completely banned.”
“But doesn’t this completely break fairness?”
“Seriously. Are they just planning to throw away this year’s freshmen?”
Of course, I could understand the academy’s position. With all the chaos going on, even basic operations were difficult at Palaestra Academy right now. Still, did they really have to make it this brutal?
I sighed and watched my teammates chatter among themselves. Everyone was venting their disbelief and complaints in a steady stream. Their criticism was perfectly reasonable. The only problem was that the academy higher-ups wouldn’t listen to any of it. It seemed far more productive to do something else with our time rather than complain. Sitting here doing nothing would be the same as giving up just because we were unhappy.
“Instead of sitting around griping, why don’t we go scout the course once?”
“Scout it?”
“The route is set, but there’s a huge difference between seeing the terrain firsthand and going in blind, right?”
“That’s true…”
“Mari and I will cover the cost. Let’s take a taxi and examine it slowly. If we spot any facilities installed in advance for the exam, we’ll memorize them.”
“Oho…”
The power mage nodded enthusiastically. The others agreed that it was better than pointless arguing or training. Other teams were probably thinking the same thing. Even if the exam was thrown together haphazardly, it was only right to give it our best shot.
As soon as the plan was set, we left the café.
Someone had left the café. Before long the empty seats were filled by new faces. One of them was a woman who might as well have been a land-dwelling midget—Kim Yu-ju. The moment our group disappeared, she darted over and claimed the spot. After tens of minutes on her feet, the strength drained from her body all at once. It was a moment of rest. She glanced around, then waved toward the door. A woman was still standing there, staring outside. It looked as though she had found right in front of her the very thing she had missed.
“Lim Hana~ Hana! Come over here and sit~!”
“Eh? Yeah, sure.”
But now wasn’t the time to get distracted by such things. The reason they had come here today was because of the exam, after all. She quickly spotted the familiar face, wiped the submerged expression from her own, and sat down in front of her one and only girlfriend—who didn’t seem particularly precious. Afterward, the two biological women each ordered a cup of coffee.