This Actually Works - The First-Year Representative Speech

The first-year representative speech. They select the student who displayed the most potential during the entrance exam and have them deliver a speech to see what kind of resolve they’ll declare for the coming year. This is also where one of Mirinae Academy’s special quirks reveals itself: they give the speaker absolutely no advance notice. With zero preparation, they call the name on the spot to evaluate the representative’s true ability.

The reason this works is the gap in perceived importance between faculty and students. To the students, the first-year representative’s words essentially set the entire grade’s direction. To the professors, it was nothing more than temporarily appointing someone to give a speech.

After all, the real representative gets chosen separately midway through the semester.

It was the same as randomly picking the person sitting at the front of the classroom to be class president because no one else was available at the start of the term. While the temporary pick usually ended up becoming the actual representative, that wasn’t an absolute rule at Mirinae Academy. Which made it exactly what it was—a temporary role that existed only for that single moment.

The professors’ conversation from yesterday’s meeting room replayed in Gainard’s mind as he watched Lee Seokhyun climb onto the podium with the expression of a man walking to his execution.

He really is a peculiar one.

To think the boy would step onto a stage others would kill to stand on with a face like that. He looked no different from livestock being dragged to the slaughterhouse.

Thanks to him, the miscellaneous department finally gets a representative speaker after so long.

It felt incredibly fresh to see a representative speaker from the miscellaneous side after ten years. Because the representative was chosen as the one who had “shown” the most potential, students from the miscellaneous department rarely got the chance. They had entered the miscellaneous track precisely because they weren’t combat specialists, and since practical exams made up fifty percent of the entrance test, the miscellaneous department was frequently excluded from consideration.

But Lee Seokhyun’s appearance this time let them rotate the order properly and restored the department’s honor.

“Aa, can everyone hear me? Hello, I’m Lee Seokhyun.”

Despite the obvious reluctance he’d shown while walking up, the moment Lee Seokhyun grabbed the microphone he became an entirely different person. His voice was smooth and relaxed, his expression perfectly at ease—as if he had been acting the entire time before taking the mic.

After the greeting he didn’t continue right away. He let a brief silence fall, drawing every eye in the auditorium.

“Before I begin the representative speech, I would like to take this opportunity to express my gratitude to the chairman for his wonderful words.”

Social skills too? Gainard thought. Between his combat sense and now this, the boy didn’t seem like a seventeen-year-old at all.

So what are you going to say, Lee Seokhyun?

A rare talent from the miscellaneous department ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and this year’s first-year representative speaker. A boy who had dropped out of the sky like a meteor. Gainard wasn’t the only one curious about what he would say next. Students thinking Who the hell are you to stand up there? Let’s see ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what you’ve got and professors who already knew Lee Seokhyun’s potential all waited for his following words.

In that heavy atmosphere, Lee Seokhyun began his speech with perfect composure.

“Before entering Mirinae Academy, all of us must have cherished various dreams. From small goals like becoming a slightly better person to grand ambitions of becoming someone truly great. And now, we can say we’re finally ready to run toward those goals.”

Is he playing it safe?

Even though the selection had been sudden, Gainard couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Expecting anything special from a representative speech in the first place had been unrealistic.

Just as the professors behind Lee Seokhyun were about to sigh in disappointment, an utterly unexpected song filled the entire auditorium.

The Mirinae Academy anthem. A bizarre scene unfolded as a mere student sang a song even the chairman only vaguely remembered during the representative speech.

What the…?

The students who had expected a normal speech grew progressively more dazed the longer the anthem continued. Their faces all seemed to ask the same question: What exactly am I listening to right now? Others wore expressions that said, How can someone waste such an honorable position like this?

Still, it was understandable.

Huh… He’s singing it with incredible shamelessness.

Lee Hwaryeong found herself genuinely impressed by Lee Seokhyun’s expression. In a situation like this, the most important thing was an iron face. The slightest change in expression would prove it wasn’t serious, and he would be torn apart by criticism.

Yet Lee Seokhyun continued the anthem with the proud look of someone doing exactly the right thing.

After the final “Aja! Aja! Aja!” he spread both arms wide like a conductor signaling the end of a performance, then looked down at the auditorium with a solemn expression. The bow he gave was perfectly polite, yet his face clearly said You people could never do this.

The moment Lee Seokhyun finished the anthem and stepped down from the podium—

“Puhahahahaha!”

The entire entrance ceremony hall transformed into an ocean of laughter in an instant.

He really is one strange bastard.

It was the moment the name Lee Seokhyun was burned clearly into everyone’s minds.

++++++++++++++++

Sixth place overall among first-years and representative speaker. It was a title I had never once obtained while playing as Lee Seokhyun. A character with abysmal early-game growth rate not getting a good starting position was simply common sense.

This time really is different.

The only thing that changed was a turn-based RPG becoming me actually possessing the character and playing in real time, yet the results were this different. I couldn’t tell whether I should be happy about it or not.

Even if I charged forward from the very beginning, the limits of this damn character’s own stats still existed. No matter how good the early momentum, what this cursed character needed most was time.

Well, it’s still better than nothing.

I returned to my seat and immediately checked the buff I had received from the representative speech.

Not bad at all.

For the price of a few minutes of embarrassment, the reward was decent. I had considered a stat buff, but thinking about the long term, a growth-type buff was clearly the best choice. I would be spending roughly four years at this academy. That meant I would be getting a free ten-percent bonus on whatever I accomplished during that time.

Now all that’s left is class orientation and dormitory assignment.

If I skipped the minor details and picked only the important things, those were the two left.

Sixth place… That should put me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in S-class.

Mirinae Academy was a thorough meritocracy, so classes were strictly divided by entrance exam ranking. First through thirty-eighth place became S-class, thirty-ninth through seventy-sixth became A-class, and so on. S-class was the only single class, while A-class split into A-1, A-2, and so forth. In other words, S-class was unique and considered the most special.

Classes can change every year based on grades, but S-class is practically fixed.

My original plan had been to climb steadily and barely reach S-class by my fourth year. Until then I had intended to gratefully accept whatever dormitory room I was given and live quietly. But now that the situation had changed, I needed to revise the plan slightly.

“You worked hard.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Yu Sohyun hesitated for a moment before speaking to me.

“If it were me, I could never have given a speech like that… Being chosen at random and then having to deliver an impromptu speech on the spot.”

“It’s no big deal. You’d have done well too.”

I wasn’t just saying that to be nice. When I had briefly played as Yu Sohyun, she had become the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠representative speaker and delivered a genuinely impressive speech. It had been pre-recorded lines, of course, but the fact that Yu Sohyun had done it remained unchanged.

“Still, I could never sing the academy anthem.”

Yeah. That part really was impossible for her. Even I had only theorized about it; actually doing it was a first.

It couldn’t be helped.

I couldn’t think of any cool lines, and I hadn’t expected to be chosen, so my mind had gone completely blank. That was why I had chosen to vigorously sing the Mirinae Academy anthem. The result was exactly what you saw.

“Puhahaha, you’re seriously entertaining.”

“The representative speaker this year is truly special.”

Amid roaring laughter and admiration came the expected reactions.

“Why is a guy like that…?”

“How does sixth place get to give the representative speech?”

“Isn’t he insane?”

Receiving appropriate amounts of jealousy and criticism, the whole thing could be called a resounding success. The plan had been to sing the anthem, show burning affection for the school, and secure a growth buff. I did get called crazy, but the results were good, so it didn’t matter.

“Attention. I will now explain the subjects you must absolutely learn and the ones available for you to take.”

Gainard calmed the noisy atmosphere created by my speech and continued. As he explained, Mirinae Academy divided subjects into required major courses and electives. First-years had to choose the common mandatory subjects, then fill their remaining schedule with whatever they wanted. Since the game had been made in Korea, the system was almost identical to Korean university course registration.

For first-years it’s probably basic mana studies, basic martial arts, magic studies… and miscellaneous was an elective.

Even though it was one of the representative fields, miscellaneous wasn’t required. That fact alone showed how narrow the department’s position was. The biggest reason was that everything except martial arts and magic had been crammed into the miscellaneous category. Because of that, some students even mockingly called it “the dump.”

Well, I’ve roughly decided what to take.

Although the plan had changed slightly, it wasn’t enough to alter Lee Seokhyun’s training route itself.

Nothing much left now.

With the representative speech, subject introduction, and professor greetings finished, the entrance ceremony came to a close. Exactly one person was missing—the miscellaneous department’s representative professor—but everyone simply let it slide. In the original game he had been an NPC who rarely appeared anyway.

He shows up with a certain probability… or not.

After the closing remarks, I checked the assigned dormitory and room number, then stood up. The entrance ceremony, which had overall introduced the world setting, ended like that.

++++++++++++++++

The moment I entered the dormitory I sat straight down at the desk to apply for classes as quickly as possible. As if it had been waiting, the subject application form was neatly folded inside the desk drawer.

It’s all first-come, first-served.

From the so-called “honey” classes that were easy to the difficult but rewarding popular ones, I knew every single subject that absolutely had to be taken. I couldn’t afford to miss even one. Especially in the first year—laying a solid foundation now would prevent endless suffering later. Speed was everything.

Scribble scribble scribble.

Required subjects—okay, all filled. Electives look good too. Done.

After diligently writing for about two minutes, I folded the application form into a paper airplane and was about to launch it out the window when—

Someone suddenly popped out, grabbed the back of my neck, and spoke.

“Student Lee Seokhyun, I noticed you didn’t apply for any miscellaneous department subjects on your form. You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Ack, shit… Ah, you scared me.”

“Were you about to curse just now…?”

“Ah, no. I have a vitamin deficiency, so…”

Kerar Mera. The miscellaneous department’s representative professor and the randomly appearing NPC I had mentioned earlier. I had felt disappointed thinking he wouldn’t show up, yet here he was waiting inside my own room.

“That’s not the important part, student Lee Seokhyun.”

“Yes?”

“The lecture—”

Crash. Bang.

The moment Kerar tried to continue, two more professors burst into my room one after another.

“Student Lee Seokhyun! Please explain how you knew the answers to every single first question here!”

Magic department representative professor Lee Hwaryeong and—

“Lee Seokhyun, what were you thinking when you cut the ogre’s ankle like that? I’d like to hear your mindset. Also, about the new lecture I created this time…”

Even martial arts department representative professor Gainard had come.

What the hell is going on…?

The popularity was far too much.