The Hell Class
"H-how on earth…?"
"You're not a prophet. How did you know? You just guessed, right?"
"Ugh, you jinxed us! Hey—you looking to die?!"
A few instructors crowded in, flapping and firing questions, while Son Ga-yeong blamed me as if Thomas had lost because of me. The rest of them seemed to be replaying the match in their heads.
"I still don't get it…"
"What even happened just now?"
Even those ones muttered to themselves a few times before turning to me.
"It didn't feel like a random guess. More like you were certain Korea would win. How did you know?"
"Hey! Take responsibility! Your name is— damn it, start with your name!"
"Is he even a cadet? I can't feel any mana. A new professor, maybe?"
"I never heard anything about that."
The questions kept piling up until the room was on the edge of a riot—then someone opened the faculty office door.
"What are you all doing over there?"
It was Grade Director Lee Dae-sik.
"I just heard from the Chairman. Any moment now, he will—"
He trailed off mid-sentence as his eyes found me. After a brief blank stare, Lee Dae-sik lunged forward and seized my hands.
"…?"
"You've arrived! Instructor Cheon Hae-beom! This must be your first time here—I should have gone out to meet you myself…"
At that impeccably respectful greeting, the other instructors' eyes went wide. Airless little sounds slipped from their open mouths. It was a stronger reaction than the Olympic result itself.
Only moments ago, Son Ga-yeong had been nothing but haughty. The way she'd treated me like a child flipped over as easily as a palm.
"I never meant to look down on you… I really didn't…"
Looking ready to cry, she pressed her hands together and offered an apology. Honestly, her behavior earlier had been spectacularly ugly—but watching her own it and apologize so earnestly, my irritation drained away at once. I forgave her without hesitation.
"It's fine. These things happen."
"I'll apologize again… I truly didn't mean it that way…"
"I said it's fine."
"A-and, Instructor, you just look so young… Ah—no, I mean—you know that's a compliment, right?"
"Yes. I get it already."
The other instructors had accepted forgiveness and withdrawn. Why was this woman still like this? She trailed after me like a puppy, begging for pardon over and over; anyone watching would have thought she'd committed high treason.
"I-Instructor Cheon…?"
Even now, Son Ga-yeong clung like a leech. No matter how I tried to peel her off, she only repeated the same lines with a woeful face.
"I told you it's fine. Stop sticking to me."
"You still seem angry…"
"I'm getting irritated because you keep clinging. It's genuinely fine, so go do your work."
"Y-yes… Thank you."
Right—almost forgot. I called after her as she turned away, exhaling in relief.
"Come to think of it, Instructor Son. You remember our bet, don't you?"
"Ah! Wait a second—!"
"I'll use the wish whenever I feel like it. That's all right, yes?"
"I-I was only joking about that bet…"
"Anyway. It's fine, right?"
"…Yes."
With that last request—which was not quite a threat—I finally sent her off. The moment she peeled away, other instructors swarmed in.
"Just as the stories said. Your eye for these things is on another level from ours."
"Did you catch Kim Young-jun's feint? Which part, exactly?"
"I still can't figure it out… Incredible!"
"Instructor. Would you be able to teach me a bit of magic swordsmanship?"
I had barely sat down to collect my thoughts when a crowd of instructors poured toward me like bees after honey. Being approached like that on first meeting left me thoroughly flustered.
"Hoo… Instructor Cheon Hae-beom, of all people… It's as if mana itself doesn't exist in him. With mana control like that, of course predicting that outcome wouldn't have been difficult."
This guy's just inventing his own interpretation.
Say the wrong thing here and my identity might slip; stay silent and it felt like I was snubbing them either way.
Then, right on cue, the class bell rang.
"Ah—I have to get to class. Haha."
I offered the instructors a brief farewell and headed for the classroom.
First-year Class A.
Put kindly, it was the class that held the major characters. Flip that around, and it was the cursed class where incidents never stopped. And that cursed Class A was the one assigned to me.
"Haa…"
I looked up. The plaque reading 1-A filled my vision. The door in front of me felt like the gate to hell. Not that I had another option.
"—When's he getting here~"
"—Whoa, look at my hands shaking…"
"—What does he actually look like?"
The cadets' chatter leaked through the door. I swallowed the tightness in my chest and opened it.
With a soft click, I took the first step and pushed into the room.
"…"
The noisy hall had gone quiet in an instant. The scene felt awkward, but I kept my face as blank as I could and walked on.
The cadets' hushed breathing and the measured sound of my footsteps filled the air in a steady rhythm. After a few more steps, I stood on the platform.
Standing up here was one thing—what was I supposed to do next? For now I simply studied their faces in silence.
"—Whoa…… insane…"
"—He's way younger than I expected?"
"—Holy crap! He's ridiculously handsome!"
"—Eun-sol, what's wrong? Are you sick?"
Familiar faces came into rough focus. The first to seize my attention was the protagonist of this world: Cha Hyun-woo.
Ugh, look at those arrogant eyes. I want to poke them out.
Cha Hyun-woo's personality was the opposite of most novel protagonists—violent, rough, a wild horse through and through. You might wonder why someone like him was the lead, but there were reasons enough. He was a growth-type protagonist; of course he was full of rough edges this early on. With time, the winds of change would blow through him—physically and mentally both.
I looked away and scanned the others. Next, Na Eun-sol came into view. She was staring at me with a completely blank expression. The moment our eyes met, she flinched hard and dropped her gaze.
Ahem.
It felt like a kitten shying away from an approaching human. After what happened last time, I needed to make peace somehow—but the timing never seemed right. Time would sort it out, I supposed.
"Eun-sol, are you okay?"
"Your face looks awful. Want to go to the infirmary?"
"What? The instructor's looking right at you."
"I—I know, so be quiet…"
Had I stared too hard? My eyes snagged on Na Eun-sol's thoroughly crushed expression.
Everyone has someone they revere. Even proud, lofty Na Eun-sol was no exception.
Cheon Hae-beom.
From the time she was very small, she had heard the name endlessly from her father and from Uncle Ma Seong-yong—what kind of hero Cheon Hae-beom was, and the feats he had accomplished. She had heard the stories every day and never grown tired of them. Each time she revisited those anecdotes, they felt new and astonishing all over again.
When her head hardened and she began to understand the world, Na Eun-sol made a decision: she would become a hero like Cheon Hae-beom. She would take after him not only in strength, but in bearing as well.
Even after entering Arena Academy, that resolve never frayed. It held firm. Cheon Hae-beom—her role model—fed her respect and longing, and she trained without end.
Had the heavens looked down on her and decided to grant a reward?
He's going to be our homeroom instructor…!
The man who had spent decades secluded in the mountains had come down at last—and she had been told he would take charge of their class.
The morning assembly bell rang. It signaled the homeroom instructor's arrival. Na Eun-sol clutched her hammering chest and tried to steady her mind.
C-calm down, Eun-sol. First impressions matter.
She felt the way a child waiting for Santa Claus might feel. She exhaled several times and forced her heart to settle.
The front door of the classroom slid open, and the footsteps of the man who had to be Cheon Hae-beom approached.
She was shaking. She was shaking so hard she could barely face him. Na Eun-sol forced her tightly shut eyes open and looked.
"Huh…?"
It should have been a face she was seeing for the first time—yet somehow it was familiar. She turned the feeling over carefully.
"N-no way."
The recent conflict with that man rose in her mind. Her face went dark in an instant.
"Eun-sol, what's wrong? Are you sick?"
"…"
Her seatmate, Lee Ha-na, was fretting over her, but the voice didn't reach her. An earthquake ran through Na Eun-sol's pupils.
Why was that man here?
She asked herself the question, and the answer swam up, half-formed. She simply couldn't accept it whole.
Cheon Hae-beom's eyes moved this way and that as he surveyed the cadets. Na Eun-sol was caught in his sight as well.
A sharp jolt. She had been staring blankly, and before she knew it their eyes had met. Na Eun-sol startled violently and dropped her gaze.
"Eun-sol, are you okay?"
"Your face looks really bad. Want the infirmary?"
"What? The instructor's looking at you right now."
Her clueless friends kept talking at her. Na Eun-sol fumbled, then finally opened her mouth.
"I—I know, so be quiet…"
She was thoroughly marked. She knew that man—so that man would know her, too. She wanted to cry. If her friends hadn't been here and she had been left alone, she would already have been sobbing.
Na Eun-sol covered her face with both hands and berated herself.
I'm finished… What do I do…
Never in her life had she resented the heavens more than she did right now.