But I'm Perfectly Fine
She's adorable. Watching Orknodi shrink back in bashfulness brought a wave of healing warmth to the examinees' hearts, even as bewilderment crept in alongside it.
Setting aside that absurdly gigantic monkey beastman, the female adventurer and the man with the respectable beard didn't look particularly strong. If she hadn't been carried by her party, how on earth had such a tiny child taken top honors?
"To Lady Orknodi, who has cleared the first stage as our valedictorian, a special privilege is granted," announced Proctor Monk Myeongho, his voice echoing across the clearing. "It is the right to bypass all remaining trials and receive immediate admission to the academy."
A deluge of envious gazes poured in from every direction.
"Congratulations, my lady," Giselle said smoothly, bowing slightly.
"You've got some devilish luck, half-pint," Son Ocheon barked with a grin.
"Take it, quickly! You've earned it," Isabelle urged, beaming with pride.
Giselle, Son Ocheon, and Isabelle—every one of her companions offered their heartfelt congratulations. Even Proctor Monk Myeongho stood waiting patiently, his expression practically asking why she hadn't claimed the prize already.
And those sky-high expectations?
Orknodi shattered them without a second thought.
"No thanks."
"Do you mean to say you will not use your privilege?" the monk asked, blinking in surprise.
"If I use that, only I get to pass."
"Indeed, for immediate admission is a distinction reserved solely for the top scorer."
"I don't abandon my companions."
At those simple words, a glimmer of deep emotion welled up in the eyes of her party members.
"How like a child."
"It's utter foolishness."
"That's what makes it so pure."
The surrounding examinees each chimed in with their own opinions. Some criticized her foolishness, some praised her loyalty, and others merely burned with jealousy. Yet there was one undeniable truth that every single spectator agreed upon: this child possessed a heart of pristine innocence. No one could dispute that.
Which was precisely why the parting remark that tumbled from her lips struck them with the force of a thunderclap.
"Unless they abandon me first, that is."
In Graduating the Academy on Pure Luck, non-player characters possessed an affection mechanic.
It wasn't some cosmetic gimmick tacked onto disposable extras like that straw-hat girl from earlier, either. Every major and minor character in the game had their own individual affection parameters. The best friend who stuck by your side had an affection stat, and so did the classmate who worked alongside you on group assignments.
If you raised their affection above a certain threshold, it unlocked the Companion System, didn't it?
The problem lay in that cursed stat itself.
Dungeons were typically grueling, protracted slogs. Pick a dungeon difficulty that didn't match your party's combat rating, step into an area teeming with monsters a member despised, trigger a negative narrative event, or suffer from poor party synergy—and affection plummeted for any of a thousand different reasons.
And what happened when that gauge dropped past the danger zone?
Even if you had diligently farmed their goodwill for weeks to recruit them into your party, you might enter a dungeon as best friends only to have a screaming match on the way out and sever ties forever. Drop below the baseline into negative numbers, and they turned into outright hostile enemies.
So no matter how desperately I wished to journey together, companions would eventually stab me in the back.
"You're not my friend anymore."
"Don't ever call my name again."
"Show your face around me one more time, and I'll kill you."
"You're utterly boring."
"Your muscles are disgusting. Get away from me."
"You're so pointlessly huge that you trip every single weight trap! Don't even dream of setting foot in a dungeon with me again!"
Ah. Just dredging up those memories made my chest ache all over again.
Yet for some reason, the expressions my current companions wore mirrored the profound shock I had felt back in my hulking, muscle-bound male avatar days.
"Lady Orknodi," Giselle ventured carefully, his eyes narrowing with deep concern. "Whatever could possess you to believe we would abandon you?"
"Damn it, half-pint..." Son Ocheon muttered, scratching his hairy nape with an uneasy scowl. "Spouting stuff that leaves a foul taste in the mouth. I'm starting to see why the boss worries so much."
"Why say something like that?" Isabelle asked, her voice cracking with raw sorrow. "Sounding as if being discarded is second nature to you... at such a tender age?"
Ah. Right. These people don't know this world operates on the logic of a game.
Trying to explain the hidden mechanics of an NPC affinity algorithm would take far too long anyway.
"Just... because that's how it's always been."
Just as fried chicken was delicious and stat stones were essential for power-leveling, party members drifting apart and disbanding was simply the natural order of things. Even if they pressed me for an explanation, I had nothing else to offer.
"Alas..." Proctor Monk Myeongho let out a heavy, solemn sigh, pressing his palms together in a prayerful bow. "Pray do not misunderstand, young patron. What this humble monk offered was a boon, not a chastisement. If it is your sincere will to face the trials shoulder to shoulder with your companions, no soul present shall bar your path."
You have cleared the First Stage: Stone Pagoda Stacking Event in first place.
You have declined to use the valedictorian perk: Immediate Admission.
And so, my examination run continued.
"Disgusting brat."
"What a saint. Comradeship? Give me a break."
"She only pulled that stunt because she's a clueless little kid who doesn't know how the world works."
Whispers dripping with envy, malice, and contempt hissed continuously through the crowd. People who wore sweet, pitying smiles while murmuring how tragic or brave she was turned around the second they were out of earshot to spit venom.
"Aaaah, I'm starving," Son Ocheon bellowed, scratching his protruding gut with utter disregard for the atmosphere. "Do they not feed us during these damned tests?"
"I possess an ample supply of dried fish fillet, if that would suffice," Giselle offered smoothly.
"Hand it over, whatever works!"
A gluttonous monkey if there ever was one, bellowing for food without the slightest care for anyone's troubles.
"Hey, half-pint," Ocheon grunted, glancing down. "You want a piece too?"
"As long as it's not the one your filthy hands touched, Mr. Ocheon."
Consumed Standard Dish: Honey Butter Jerky.
Consumption Count increased: (2/1,000).
My ironclad rule was never to eat the same prepared dish twice if I could help it, but I suppose I could make an exception just for today.
"You four really make a wonderful team," Isabelle remarked softly, watching them interact.
"Me? With this pint-sized runt?" Son Ocheon scoffed.
"Me? With this deafening meathead?" Orknodi shot back instantly.
"It's so harmonious it makes me envious," Isabelle laughed, a wistful nostalgia tinting her voice. "Back during our days in the Esonia Adventurer Party, our captain and senior veterans bickered just like that."
Her captain was dead, wasn't he? I didn't particularly care to become best buddies with a wild ape beastman, but if seeing us get along offered comfort to the chef I had worked so hard to recruit, playing along cost nothing.
"Actually, we really are close," I piped up in my sweetest, most innocent child voice. "Uncle Ocheon is terribly strong and tall, after all. Having him around makes me feel so safe and protected."
"Oho? You held me in such high esteem?" Son Ocheon puffed out his chest, grinning from ear to ear. "For a runt, you actually know how to speak like a dutiful little niece, don't you?"
"That was a lie. Go jump off a cliff."
Watching him get so insufferably smug the moment I yielded an inch grated on my nerves so badly that we ended up squabbling all over again.
What an extraordinarily considerate child.
To think that despite having lived through such an agonizing, tragic past herself, she would go out of her way to comfort an adult years her senior. Isabelle's heart swelled. Even if the girl hadn't saved her life, she realized she would have wanted to stand by her side and protect her all the same.
I have seen more than my share of filth and depravity in this world. But those who truly shine never bow to their circumstances.
There were gems that sparkled even while buried in the foulest mud. Most were trampled beneath the greed of onlookers until their luster dimmed, their faint glow smothered into nothingness. But on rare occasions, those who recognized true brilliance would pluck the gem from the mire, wash it clean, and meticulously polish its facets so it could blaze brighter than ever before.
He's remarkably thoughtful for a beastman, too.
The beastman named Son Ocheon acted reckless and indifferent, but his intentions were painfully obvious: he was intentionally raising a ruckus to drown out the vile whispers poisoning the little girl's ears. The man named Giselle was no different. While the child's attention was occupied by the ape's antics, Giselle's slit-eyed gaze turned razor-sharp, chillingly glaring down the slanderers so fiercely that none dared step near them.
A good child surrounded by good adults. In a twisted, cutthroat world like this, such a party was a miracle.
Adults who understand gratitude are a rare breed.
Society taught hunger and cold calculation. It etched into one's very marrow that unless you took more than your share and acted with vicious selfishness, survival was impossible. To pass through those fires without losing your humanity—to embrace the pure, unfiltered desire of a child who simply wished to walk beside her comrades—required an exceptional person. Giselle and Son Ocheon were more than worthy of being called exceptional.
"Once we find a quiet moment, I'll whip up a proper meal for everyone," Isabelle offered warmly.
"Oho! Truly?!" Son Ocheon's eyes lit up.
"An adventurer's home cooking... I must admit, I look forward to it," Giselle chimed in.
"Can I make a special request?" Orknodi asked eagerly.
"If we can find the ingredients, absolutely."
Perhaps caught up in the atmosphere, a quiet ambition blossomed within Isabelle's chest: the desire to become a dependable adult who could shield this girl's future.
"Do you dislike vegetarian dishes?"
"I eat anything and everything!"
"That's a relief, then."
Sprawled along the path leading toward the second trial was an immense expanse of wilderness. The only foraging ingredients in sight were wild herbs and forest greens.
Just as before the first trial, the peculiar scenery unfolding on the road to the testing ground provided a blatant hint regarding the nature of the upcoming exam.
What caught my eye this time was an ancient woodland. Unlike the craggy mountain range that had just been cleanly cleaved in two by the earthquake, this dense forest showed not a single scratch, landslide, or splintered branch from the seismic shockwave. A completely pristine woodland. Which meant this was no ordinary forest.
Every likely exam candidate floating through my mind was atrocious.
Wilderness survival.
A hunting competition.
A forest escape trial.
If it was survival, we would have to camp in these damp, overgrown woods for days on end. If it was a hunting competition, we would have to brawl over quarry with the main cast and named extras after I had already generated massive aggro during the pagoda trial. And if it was an escape challenge, the environmental hazards would only grow exponentially more hostile the deeper we ventured.
And what was the worst factor shared by all three? The one detail that mattered above all else?
Bzzzzzz—
Smack!
A tiny pest wobbled past my open palm, drunkenly ascending back into the air. A filthy, blood-thieving bandit.
Mosquitoes.
"Hey, half-pint! How do you expect to catch anything when your hands move like molasses?"
Son Ocheon spread his giant, pot-lid-sized palms wide and brought them together with a deafening CRACK!
What are you boasting about? You missed it too.
I was just about to chew him out when I noticed the insect slip through the gap between his palms—only for the bug to suddenly shudder.
Plop.
The mosquito dropped limply onto a nearby fern, completely paralyzed.
"What was that just now?" I asked, genuine awe leaking into my voice.
"Clap hard enough and fast enough, and the air shockwave knocks the damn bug right out."
"Incredible."
Inside my mind, Son Ocheon's affection meter clicked up a notch. At this level of goodwill, I could spare a piece of candy whose codex entry I had already registered.
"Want one?"
"Oh? Sweets? Don't mind if I do!"
Carefully untying my candy pouch, I picked out a single hard candy and placed it upon his massive, calloused palm. The sheer difference in size bordered on comedy.
Crunch! Crunch!
The second he tossed it into his maw, a merciless sound of shattering sugar echoed through the woods. Did he lack the patience to savor flavors with his tongue, preferring to crush everything to dust between his molars? Right down to how he ate candy, we were completely incompatible.
Yep. Impossible to truly like this guy.
Candy was meant to be rolled lazily across the tongue until it melted away. Grumbling silently, I was rummaging through my pouch for another treat when the ape suddenly wheezed and spat the candy out.
Thwack! Crack!
He spat it with such absurd kinetic force that when it struck a tree trunk, the hard candy snapped cleanly in two.
"Hey! What was that for?!"
"What the hell kind of garbage are you chewing on?!" Son Ocheon barked, staring down at my candy pouch in genuine horror. "Isn't this... isn't this poison candy?!"
"Well, I'm perfectly fine?"
Once again, the surrounding gazes directed at me turned searingly, terrifyingly sharp.