Entrance Exam: The First Gateway

Guided by the monks, we stepped into the testing grounds for advanced examinees—a jagged entrance to a rocky mountain, strewn in every direction with crags and coarse gravel.

In total, there were five hundred people. Scattered far and wide across the stony clearing, sitting in sparse clusters with plenty of distance between them, the advanced test-takers didn't amount to much of a crowd at all.

"Hey, pipsqueak. You're pretty damn relaxed for someone dragging a wet nurse to an exam."

"Hmph. Rich words coming from someone who should be off chasing his 'Baby Fawn.'"

"Urgh... Y-You saw that?"

"Why don't you scurry off right now and find your precious Baby Fawn before she suffers among the bottom-feeders?"

From what I had glimpsed on the way here, the lower exam grounds would be swarming with tens of thousands of applicants by the time the bells rang, practically spilling over the open lots. By comparison, five hundred elite examinees was an exclusive circle. Frankly, since that monkey beastman looked terrifyingly sturdy, I had hoped he would wander over to the lower grounds instead, but apparently even a hopeless simp wasn't foolish enough to kick away his own golden ticket.

"My Baby Fawn is just terribly shy, that's all. Surely she felt self-conscious, worrying her skills weren't worthy of standing beside a real man like me... She didn't reject me!"

"Right, right. Next up for Rejection Number One."

What she actually lacked was the patience required to endure your lethal pick-up lines, buddy.

"Lady Orknodi. Staying relaxed is well and good, but you ought to steel your nerves soon. It seems our competitors do not view us kindly."

Beside me spoke Giselle, the underground merchant whose beard looked impeccably roguish no matter when I saw it. Heaven only knew how he or the monkey beastman had bypassed the age restriction at the gates, but they had both plopped down right beside me to chat. I didn't entirely mind it, to be honest. Aside from those two, practically everyone else was glaring daggers at my pint-sized self, looking primed to single me out the instant any duel-based trial began.

"That's the brat, right?"

"Yeah."

Pricking up my ears, the muttered whispers drifting my way sounded ominous in the extreme.

Isn't it a bit early to be ganging up on the ace?

"Mingling with filthy beastmen."

"Speaks volumes about her pedigree."

"Doesn't even have mana-infused armor."

"Not a decent heirloom blade in sight."

"Brought a servant along, but she's probably just the spawn of some obscure rustic baron."

The examinees who had been raised on elite prodigy regimens and networked through high-society circles since infancy had already drawn their battle lines. That faction alone numbered around thirty. Even starting out with noble status, worming my way into that clique seemed out of the question.

"She's dressed like an adventurer. Anyone know her?"

"Never seen her before."

"More to the point, she's a toddler."

"Guess she's no renowned mercenary."

"Then we've got no obligation to look out for her."

The veteran adventurers who had built up distinguished track records across the continent before challenging the academy exams formed their own rival cliques of twenty to thirty, throwing sidelong glances in our direction. Not a single one approached us, having apparently decided they had no room for dead weight or nuisance kids. When I used to play as a hulking, muscle-bound male character, those types would swarm all over me until I wanted to scream, but being utterly dismissed like this stung in its own irritating way.

"Hey, pipsqueak. Fret over every little whisper and you'll burn out before the starting whistle."

"Thanks for the advice."

He wasn't wrong; paying them any mind was purely my loss. What was the point of staying on edge when everyone else was conserving energy and merely glaring?

"Aaargh!"

"You should have chosen your targets more carefully."

Then again, the fellow over there who had just ruthlessly started a massacre clearly didn't share my laid-back philosophy.

"That lunatic—he just lopped off another examinee's arm!"

Beneath the welcoming shade of a sprawling tree, a swordsman radiating pure lethality had cleanly severed the wrist of an idiot who dared cross the circle he had traced in the dirt with his scabbard.

It was Xing, the Eastern Empire swordsman from the original game, Graduating the Academy on Pure Luck. He was one of the playable characters, acting as a prominent supporting figure if the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠player chose someone else. Playable characters were high-performance academy mainstays unlocked through massive achievement point thresholds or purchased outright through real-money transactions. As an NPC, his personality was terrifyingly ruthless, just as advertised. Recruited with great difficulty, he was an absolute monster whose combat efficiency outshone nearly everyone else.

Linger on him too long, and another tedious event would trigger. I promptly clamped my eyes shut and sealed my ears.

In the game, this would be the exact moment where your early arrival converted every surplus second into a point. Hoarding those points allowed players to visit the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Point Merchant who spawned once every few months to purchase vital progression features or unique items. Of course, now that the game had become reality and I had no earthly clue where the points were even stored, I cleanly wrote them off.

Much like the Straw Hat Girl's encounter, these affection events were notorious landmines. Slog through all that trouble, and your only reward was affection from a female mob bound for the common exam grounds, while your precious time and points bled out in massive chunks. What made it hilarious was the fact that Straw Hat Girl still had a random chance of flunking the exam anyway. What kind of trash-tier extra affection quest was that? Play the sweet, gallant fantasy hero, and all you got was drained points, a disqualified girl, and a mountain of wasted hours. It existed purely to break the spirit of naive beginners.

Xing's event was no different. High-ranking nobles and their sycophants lusting after his prime spot—if left alone, they would snarl at each other until things settled down ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠naturally. But if the player jumped in? You just inherited their quarrel and provoked a needless brawl.

Forget it. Time for a nap.

Yawning widely, I picked out a tall, unoccupied tree, shimmied smoothly up the trunk, and leaned my back against a sturdy branch. Below, I felt the bewildered stares of the monkey beastman and Giselle looking up, but I wasn't giving up this prime real estate. Up here, an ambush while sleeping was virtually impossible.

"Well, well. Look at the little squirt scurry. Is she part monkey too?"

"Let us rest beneath the boughs."

The rough bark was terribly rigid against my back. I missed my bed. I was already longing for the days when Jona and Leaf waited on me hand and foot. Watching the sun dip below the horizon, I prepared to shut my eyes when something fluttered up from below and caught on my branch.

"Wrap yourself in this before ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you sleep. You will catch a chill."

Catch a cold? Me? I almost snorted, but a passing gust of evening wind sent a shiver racing across my skin. Ah, right... I wasn't an ironclad meathead anymore. Bundling up beneath the blanket, I reached into my pack, pulled out a strip of dried meat, and tossed it down to Giselle.

Thwack.

"Ouch."

Silly old man. Dropping it after taking it straight to the forehead.

Doooong—!

The heavy toll of a bronze bell shattered the silence as dawn broke over the peaks.

Clambering down from the canopy, I lightly stretched my limbs. Around the perimeter, other applicants were shaking off the morning cold, focusing their minds and preparing for battle.

"Thanks for the blanket."

"You need not return it. My rucksack happens to be an enchanted bag with spatial expansion properties."

"No, it's just that I don't have anywhere to stash it."

"Ah."

Giselle tucked the blanket back into his pack with an awkward cough. This old-timer was being far too careless. Did he not realize several nearby examinees had just locked onto the word 'inventory' like wolves sighting fresh meat? I would bet good money that at least a dozen people were already plotting how to relieve him of that magical satchel.

Doooong—!

The bell tolled another five times, deep and resonant. As the final echoes faded into the crags, a bald Buddhist monk ascended a raised stone dais at the front of the grounds.

"As of this moment, admission to the advanced examination grounds is officially closed."

After being blasted by bells loud enough to rattle one's skull, no sane person could possibly remain asleep.

Snore—

Hnnngh... Snort—

No sane human, that is.

Following the monk's gaze, every eye in the clearing shifted toward Giselle and me. More precisely, they glared at the colossal monkey beastman sawing logs behind our backs with deafening gusto.

"Mister Son Ocheon. Pray awaken."

"Whoa! What, we startin' already?"

The massive brute, who hadn't twitched an ear at the booming bells or the chatter of five hundred people, snapped wide awake at Giselle's quiet murmur. Only then did the monk offer a gentle, benevolent smile before speaking once more.

"This humble monk is named Myeongho, and I have been entrusted with supervising your first trial. Naturally, I am no ordinary monk. I am a warrior monk whose calling lies in the subjugation, containment, exorcism, and spiritual liberation of wraith-type entities and cursed relics employed by Gift Academy."

Gaining recognition and entering into formal partnership with Gift Academy, the premier educational institution acknowledged by every sovereign realm across the globe, was no trifling feat. To uphold its peerless prestige, the talents employed by the academy were invariably the undisputed pinnacles of their respective fields. A warrior monk from the Eastern Empire was no exception.

"In the Western Kingdoms, faith in the Twelve Major Gods shields all living souls beneath heaven, yet no such overarching pantheon reigns over the Eastern Empire. Instead, enlightened individuals claim single hamlets or solitary peaks as their sacred domains, watching over them."

He folded his hands in prayer, his calm voice carrying across the valley.

"In the East, the lesser divinities guarding these mountains are revered as Mountain Spirits. As a symbol of prayer and auspicious supplication to invoke their favor, the faithful raise stone pagodas."

"A stone pagoda is simply a tower formed by stacking stones high. The higher the tower and the greater the layers, the more favorably the Mountain Spirit turns its gaze upon the petitioner. Thus, building them high and building them well is paramount."

Just as I suspected the moment I saw this terrain.

"The sincerity that you, who wish to gain admission to the world's foremost academy, must demonstrate to this examiner is no different."

"Upon this rocky peak that serves as our trial ground, this humble monk shall serve as the Mountain Spirit's surrogate, evaluating your pagodas and determining your passage."

"Until the exam concludes, stack as many stones as you can to erect the highest pagoda possible."

The first gateway was stone-stacking.

And that meant...

"Needless to say, should your stone pagoda collapse before the trial reaches its conclusion, or should an examinee become incapacitated and unable to continue, you will be disqualified on the spot."

A trial where demolishing someone else's painstaking work was ten times easier than building your own. In other words, a paradise tailor-made for griefers and trolls.