A-Rank Gate
For the two weeks I'd been attending school, life had been genuinely peaceful.
Whether the teacher had thoroughly warned everyone in advance or not, the kids couldn't quite hide the curiosity on their faces — but nobody asked about the incident. And the embarrassment of showing up at an elementary school had eased considerably with time.
As for anything interesting that happened…
"So you're really not dating Lee Yeon-hui?"
"Wait, I wanna hear this too! You two are always hanging out together."
Sang-hyeon, the same guy who'd cornered me before, kicked things off — and then A-yeon… was that her name? Anyway, A-yeon piled on right beside him, pressing me for answers.
This particular topic had gone quiet for a while after the kids tried asking Yeon-hui and got thoroughly chewed out for it. Apparently their curiosity had finally won out, and now they were coming to me instead.
A mischievous impulse flickered through me. I let my eyes sparkle.
"Gather round. Gather round."
"Huh?"
Looking puzzled, A-yeon and Sang-hyeon leaned in close. I dropped my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, like I was about to spill state secrets.
"The truth is — and this is top secret — we have a very, very special relationship."
"I knew it! So? So?"
"…"
A-yeon was practically vibrating with excitement. Sang-hyeon's face, on the other hand, had gone stiff as a board.
"The kind where we do everything together, every waking hour."
"The kind? The kind?"
"A very, very special kind."
"Special?"
I kept building the tension, and A-yeon — a reaction machine if there ever was one — matched my energy, her voice climbing higher and higher.
"We're next-door neighbors."
"Ooooh! Next-door neigh— wait. Neighbors?"
The look of pure bafflement on her face sent me into a fit of snickering. A-yeon just scratched her head, still not quite processing it.
"So you guys can stop grilling us about it already."
I said it loud enough for the kids who'd been crowding in behind us, ears practically pressed to our huddle. They looked sheepish and melted away into the crowd.
I chuckled at how cute they were — but Yeon-hui's expression looked faintly uncomfortable.
Well, getting constantly linked together could get annoying. Still, the kids hadn't been that mean about it, and after what I'd just pulled, even that would probably die down. It'd be fine.
"Did you hear? He said they're not dating."
"But they're totally into each other, right? The way they're always together."
Exams were over and summer break was just around the corner, which meant the single greatest topic of interest among the kids was romance. Adults might call it too early, but kids these days grew up fast.
"Maybe I should confess? Break's coming up anyway."
"You're insane!"
The girls giggling among themselves were right on brand for this age. The problem was—
Grit.
—that those voices were getting under Yeon-hui's skin in a way she couldn't quite shake.
"Hey… unclench a little. Why are you so mad?"
"I'm not mad…"
"You very obviously are."
Park Da-gyeong, Yeon-hui's friend sitting beside her, let out a sigh.
If it bothers you that much, just date him already.
Anyone with eyes could see the jealousy radiating off her, but Yeon-hui herself seemed completely oblivious. And Da-gyeong, who knew her well enough, also knew that pointing it out would only get her snapped at — so she kept her mouth shut.
Even as Yeon-hui's temper climbed toward a full boil, the girls on the other side of the room kept chattering away, blissfully unaware.
"Hey, are you close with Park Yeon-chan?"
"We've talked a few times?"
"And you're gonna confess?"
"We've chatted a bit and he's actually really funny. Plus he's cute…"
"Okay, fair."
Listening to them cackle and laugh, Da-gyeong felt her palms go slick with sweat. One look at Yeon-hui's face told her the irritation gauge had blown straight past the boiling point.
And the person at the center of it all, Park Yeon-chan?
He was calmly fiddling with his phone, checking something without a care in the world.
Ugh… this is my karma. If I'd actually stayed in touch with Yeon-hui, I could've seen this coming and given her some advice beforehand.
A perfect storm of her mom shipping her off to cram school and getting her phone confiscated for late-night scrolling had cut her off from Yeon-hui completely. Convincing a stubborn friend like that took time — she should have given her a heads-up ages ago. Realizing all of this far too late, Da-gyeong could only lament the unfortunate reality.
"Haaah~"
Kim Sang-hyeon yawned on the school rooftop.
"It's so peaceful up here…"
Watching his subordinate drape himself lazily over the rooftop railing, Kim Min-hyeon let out a quiet snort of amusement. Under normal circumstances he might have called out the sloppy work ethic — but he was feeling just as drowsy himself, and chewing out subordinates wasn't exactly a hobby of his.
"How much longer do we have to stay here, sir?"
"Beats me…"
"Man… it's always the same. One guy makes the mess, another guy cleans it up."
His subordinate's frustration was entirely justified. Nearly a month into escorting these kids, and still no recall order. Not even a hint of when they might head back.
"Come on, it's not the interns' fault. When a team-leader-level threat shows up, what were they supposed to do?"
"…Yeah, that's true."
The subordinate answered and exhaled a long sigh. It wasn't new information — just the kind of grumbling that slipped out when the monotony wore you down.
"Well, a quiet assignment with nothing happening isn't so bad. Think about this last incident — if anything had happened to that kid, you think her mother would've just sat still?"
"It was our side's screw-up, yeah. Who would've thought there'd be a spy at the team-leader level…"
"Exactly. So even if the manpower for babysitting a kid seems a little excessive—"
Kim Min-hyeon's words cut off mid-sentence. The silence landed at such an unnatural moment that his subordinate turned toward him, puzzled.
Kim Min-hyeon had shot to his feet. The lazy expression from moments ago was gone, replaced by something deadly serious.
"On your feet. Time to work."
"Sir?"
"Gate."
And no sooner had the word left his mouth—
—the siren announcing a Gate's appearance blared through the entire school.
A Gate has manifested! A Gate has manifested!
All students, please evacuate to the shelter under your teacher's direction.
The alarm thundered through the entire school, and disaster safety alerts lit up every phone in unison.
"Everyone, form two lines and move! Slowly!"
The teacher hurriedly gathered us up, got us into neat rows, and started leading us toward the shelter.
In the middle of the procession, Yeon-hui was pale-faced, fidgeting with her phone. I strode over and called out to her.
"Yeon-hui."
"Huh?"
She flinched hard, shoulders jumping — clearly rattled.
"It's going to be fine. Calm down. Yeon-ah has a dedicated escort with her, so she's actually safer than we are."
"R-right… yeah."
"So save the calls until we get to the shelter."
Of course she'd be anxious. That kidnapping had only been a short while ago. But for all the Hero Association's shady tendencies, they weren't complete idiots. The person assigned to Yeon-ah might not have been team-leader rank, but she was competent enough that her name came up as a future team leader candidate.
Gates outside restricted zones didn't spawn high-rank monsters. And right now the school had both the civil servants normally assigned to defense and the heroes escorting us. The personnel deployment was airtight — nothing was getting through.
I talked Yeon-hui down, and we followed the teacher's lead into the shelter.
"Unnie! Oppa!"
"Yeon-ah!"
Thankfully, Yeon-ah had already made it there ahead of us. She'd been resting in the nurse's office and left her phone in the classroom, which was why we couldn't reach her. The hero escorting her had dropped Yeon-ah and the nearby people off at the shelter before heading out to suppress the Gate.
At this rate, the Gate would probably be dealt with before long.
The shelter buzzed with low chatter. Gate evacuations weren't that uncommon, so the kids weren't in any real panic. If anything, the fact that a Gate had appeared at school seemed to give some of them a little thrill.
I understood. Gate-related fatalities had become practically nonexistent lately. To a kid, a rare school evacuation drill could feel exciting. Even I wasn't particularly tense, knowing just how excessive the personnel deployment was — so that said everything.
We sat waiting for the all-clear announcement.
Suppression of the manifested Gate is complete.
Teachers in the shelter, please confirm student headcounts and exit in an orderly fashion.
The all-clear came sooner than expected. And up to that point, I genuinely thought that was the end of it.
"We're done! Gate dissipation confirmed!"
"Good work."
Cha Hui-jin — the one they called the next team leader — kicked aside the wreckage of shattered desks and let out a sigh.
Of all places, it had to be a school…
She hadn't exactly been thrilled about this assignment, but a wrecked school wasn't what she wanted either.
Kids should at least be able to go to school without worrying.
She was mired in those quiet concerns when—
"Future Team Leader."
"I've told you a hundred times not to call me that."
She snapped back irritably without even turning around. Kim Min-hyeon had already sidled up beside her, wearing that punchable little grin.
"Would 'Future Division Chief' be better? You're heading up either way."
"Do you have a death wish?"
Kim Min-hyeon kept flinching and going scary, scary under her ferocious tone, but he still didn't budge from her side.
"Setting that aside — didn't something feel off to you?"
"What, your head?"
She answered curtly, but her expression had hardened compared to a moment ago. If Kim Min-hyeon — a sensory-type Awakened — was saying something like this, then the uneasy feeling she'd been hoping was just her imagination had real weight behind it.
"The Gate's condition was a little strange. From what I sensed, I thought something big had come through — but it was, I don't know. Way too easy?"
"…"
Talking about Gate work that dismissively would normally be a problem. But Cha Hui-jin couldn't bring herself to call him on the phrasing. She'd felt the same thing.
"You're right. The power I sensed was considerable, but the monsters that came out were all low-tier."
Just as Kim Min-hyeon had detected the Gate's appearance faster than anyone else, Cha Hui-jin's own sharp instincts had flagged that something about it was wrong. She'd even considered contacting headquarters, bracing for the possibility that the scale would escalate.
And it turned out to be just this?
The wrongness of it made it hard to simply walk away from the scene.
"Could've been a misread. Cases like this happen sometimes."
"…Right."
Kim Min-hyeon's expression said he wasn't fully convinced. She felt the same way — but what else was there to do? The Gate had manifested smaller than either of them had sensed, and its dissipation had been confirmed. The lingering unease was real, but if it ended without major casualties, that was what mattered.
She started to turn away with that thought—
"…!"
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me…"
A massive Gate tore open right before their eyes in the blink of an eye. It was large enough that even Kim Min-hyeon — a field veteran with no shortage of experience — immediately spat out a curse.
And the size wasn't even the real problem.
The Gate kept widening, space itself ripping farther and farther apart.
"Kim Min-hyeon. Round up everyone right now and evacuate every civilian in the school."
"…Yes, ma'am."
"And put in a support request to headquarters immediately."
She drew a slender rod from her waist. The same rod she hadn't drawn once during the previous Gate suppression transformed the moment it left her slim hip — swelling into an enormous greatsword.