Entrance Exam (1)
Time slipped by in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it, the day of the Academy entrance exam had arrived.
"Ugh… they're not gonna hit me just because I breathed in near them and call it offensive, right…?"
"……"
Park Jae-hyun had been radiating negative energy from every pore since the moment we left, and I was a little worried about him — but what could I do?
"You'll be fine. As long as it's not an exhale, they won't curse you out."
"Whew. That's a relief."
"……"
I'd said it as a joke, but the way he genuinely relaxed told me he'd taken it completely seriously.
"You sure you're gonna be okay? You have to take the exam alone."
"No problem! I just have to hold my breath on the way out, right?"
Since when could this guy breathe on inhales alone?
I was starting to sincerely regret playing along with that joke earlier. On top of that, we were assigned to different exam halls, so I couldn't even look out for him if I wanted to.
"Do well out there, seriously. We forged the application just to get you in — if you fail, the punchline writes itself."
"Don't worry. Inhale!"
Yeah. I was just going to stop thinking about it. If it came down to it, I'd call that crazy old man again and get him in somehow.
I parted ways with a half-deranged Park Jae-hyun and headed straight for my exam hall.
"Park Yeon-chan, examinee confirmed. Please go inside and wait."
I handed over my exam ticket and followed the directions into the waiting room —
"Whoa…"
— and the moment I stepped inside, a gasp escaped me before I could stop it.
How many people is this?
I'd heard there were more than ten exam sites, but the crowd in this one alone looked like it easily topped three hundred. People packed a considerably large auditorium from wall to wall. I'd known it would be like this, but seeing it in person was something else.
The number of students applying to the Academy put every other school to shame. This was a place that could slap the top elite high schools across the face for breakfast and still have room for lunch.
Ever since Gates and Towers appeared, even Korea — once called the safest country in the world — was no longer truly safe. Awakened manpower was always in short supply because of it. Starting from the generation just above mine, nearly everyone was Awakened, and yet the shortage persisted for one simple reason: the incidents and accidents caused by Awakened themselves.
In the early days, job openings for Awakened had been overflowing — private bodyguards and beyond. But the Awakened who got hired caused so much trouble that people grew afraid of them, and the market swung the other way. Employers started avoiding Awakened altogether.
Bring an Academy diploma to the table, though, and all of that vanished. Three years of character, skill, and proven results rolled into a single title — Academy graduate — had become a kind of employment free pass. And it wasn't just a free pass; it came with a guaranteed high salary. These days people even called it a high-income bloodline certificate.
What's going on?
Given all that, a packed room wasn't surprising. But something about the atmosphere felt restless. There was still plenty of time before the exam started — nothing should have been happening yet.
"Wow… she's seriously gorgeous."
"Right? Is she a celebrity?"
The murmuring crowd was leaning toward one side of the room, which meant something was going on over there. I drifted that way myself, following their gazes —
— and a familiar yet slightly strange figure came into view.
Shimmering blonde hair. Skin so pale it almost seemed translucent. Large eyes. She stood there expressionless, and somehow that only wrapped her in a strange, almost mystical allure that drew every watching eye.
And that figure —
"Yeo—"
— called to mind the person I'd wanted to see more than anyone. I barely managed to swallow the name that had climbed all the way up my throat, past my chin. I let out a quiet breath and looked again.
The one holding everyone's attention was none other than Lee Yeon-hui.
I didn't think I'd run into her here.
Of all the odds — more than ten exam sites, and ours had landed on the exact same one. I was wondering whether I should go talk to her when —
"Alright! Attention!"
— a proctor with a microphone stepped onto the stage of the wide auditorium and gathered every gaze in the room.
"Hello, Academy examinees. I'll be supervising your exam today. My name is Bae Han-su."
Clap, clap, clap.
A brief round of applause followed, and Bae Han-su launched into the exam briefing.
"The rules for this exam are simple. You'll enter the testing room in order and hit the pillar in front of you with everything you've got. Simple, right?"
The examinees nodded.
"However! We need to evaluate your abilities as Awakened. Just hitting it won't cut it for an assessment. So you'll need to pour out as much mana as you can muster and strike the pillar with that."
An extra explanation, but nothing that really changed the picture. In short: hit the pillar using mana.
"Personal weapons and artifacts are not permitted! Anyone caught using one will be immediately disqualified, so keep that in mind. Any questions about what I've covered so far?"
He angled the mic toward us, and someone shot a hand up. An assistant-looking staffer hurried over and passed them a microphone.
"This seems unfair to Awakened who aren't power-types. Are you really not separating by type?"
"Excellent question! We may be telling you to hit the pillar, but what we're measuring is simply the maximum mana you can output. Pass and fail aren't determined by how hard the pillar gets hit, so don't worry!"
A few students let out sighs of relief at that. In other words, it didn't matter whether you smashed the pillar or not. This was a test of whether you met the bare minimum to work as an Awakened — a gateway exam before the real one.
So holding back wouldn't matter much. But if you asked whether this exam was scored at all, that was a different story. In the original work, there had definitely been a bonus-point component.
"Alright, next question! Anyone else?"
He held out the mic again. When no one raised a hand, Bae Han-su moved on.
"If that's all, we'll begin! I'll call you in order, so when you hear your name, please come in one at a time!"
For some reason the proctor's tone had the energy of a festival announcer, but nobody was tense enough — or bold enough — to call him on it.
There was a single entrance. I couldn't tell exactly how the interior was laid out, but three monitors inside each showed a pillar, so it was probably splitting into three lanes. For the record, those pillars were artifacts too. Not especially rare ones, but they regenerated to their original state no matter how badly they were damaged, which made them useful in construction as well.
And if you were wondering whether that meant the pillars were weak —
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Absolutely not.
"Dude, what the hell? We're already halfway through and nobody's even left a scratch."
"It doesn't look that hard, but it won't budge at all."
Most Academy examinees had only just awakened their mana. The pillars weren't as hard as the mythical millennial cold iron from martial arts novels or vibranium from the movies — but they weren't soft enough for people who could barely do more than push mana outward to break them, either.
The order had already passed the midpoint and was heading into the back half. I glanced toward Lee Yeon-hui; she hadn't moved an inch, so her number was probably pretty far back.
And why am I…
I'd wanted to finish early and catch a nap in the back, but of course I'd drawn an end-of-the-line number. So here I was, stuck watching everyone else's exams with nothing to do.
Still, things moved faster than expected.
"Number 461, Lee Yeon-hui — please enter."
They'd started calling people right up to the number before mine. With nothing dramatic happening on the monitors, the examinees had been getting bored — but the moment Lee Yeon-hui's name was called, eyes started tracking her. She walked inside at an unhurried pace, expression flat, under the weight of dozens of stares.
I wonder how she'll do.
Lee Yeon-hui appeared on the monitor. Every gaze in the waiting room locked onto the screen showing her.
Shhhraaak—!
As if mocking everyone who'd failed to leave so much as a scratch, the pillar in front of Lee Yeon-hui split cleanly in two and toppled apart.
"Holy shit…"
"Whoa. Is she even human?"
She'd been punching holes in shipping containers since she was a kid — by that standard, this was nothing. To me, knowing who she really was, it looked like she'd held back quite a bit. To everyone else, it was jaw-dropping. Even the proctor's mouth was hanging open. That said it all.
"Number 462, Park Yeon-chan — please enter."
Nobody watched me trudge inside. They were still caught in the aftershock of Lee Yeon-hui, trading comments as she left the monitor frame.
One entrance split into three, just as I'd expected. Two of the lanes had lit "Under Inspection" signs; one showed "Available." That was probably my way in.
I started walking — and then,
Thud. Thud.
Lee Yeon-hui came walking out of one of the "Under Inspection" entrances. I'd half-expected we might cross paths, but now that we had, I had no idea what to say.
"Hey."
I wasn't sure if she even remembered me, but according to Yeon-ah she'd asked about me, so she at least knew who I was.
"Park Yeon-chan."
"Long time no see?"
"Seems like you've been running around doing pointless things. For old times' sake, I'll let most of it slide. Just don't get in the way of my work. If you do, I won't let it go."
Haha… terrifying.
In Lee Yeon-hui — the one who'd endured a brutal future and regressed — there wasn't a trace of the awkward kid from our childhood.
"Why so prickly? Are you just excited to see me after so long?"
I tossed out a joke, trying to lighten the heavy air. She didn't even answer — just brushed past me with a sharp turn of her shoulder.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to get in your way like some clingy nuisance. I'm just here to take my own exam."
I said it to her retreating back. She didn't turn around. Watching her walk away, I let out a bitter smile and slowly stepped into the testing room.
"Pretty big."
It hadn't looked like much on the monitor, but up close the pillar had real bulk and height.
"Sorry, Yeon-hui — but today's my turn to grab a little attention."
So.
You're going to have to play supporting cast for me.