Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Why Are You Picking on Me, You Damn Bitch?
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I open my eyes.
It's morning again.
Off to school again.
I immediately grabbed my phone and checked the messages first.
There was news that classes would proceed normally today.
After thanking Ja-an yesterday and seeing him off, I'd spent hours fiddling with the spear before falling asleep.
An item straight out of a game—a relic I could hold and wield with my own hands.
Honestly, what guy could resist that?
And the color kept changing!
'By the way, they say the color of mana reflects emotions?'
I'd better hold back on infusing it.
Advertising my feelings to everyone? Felt kinda gross.
Anyway, it didn't even get stronger from mana. No real need to bother.
I withdrew the mana, and it looked like an ordinary spear again.
Lightweight aside, it had no standout features.
But for now, it was enough.
With Agility at C+, I could handle anyone below B-Class somehow.
Long fights would suck, obviously... but as long as they didn't outright dismiss me as weak, that was fine.
I wasn't planning to win anyway.
'Mandatory spars are group projects and team battles. No solos until then. With Han Ye-seo and Ja-an as teammates, it won't even reach me.'
Bus boarding...!
Light heart, light body—I headed to Class A.
Didn't forget to stash the weapon in my bag.
'No bag at home big enough for a spear, so I grabbed some random guitar case lying around. Problem solved!'
Though, why was there a guitar case in Ivy Lane's dorm?
Ivy Lane didn't have hobbies like that, did she...? Or was my memory off?
.
.
.
I opened the Class A door and took my seat.
Guitar case and neatly trimmed hair doubled the stares I felt today.
Sub-heroine looks, huh... Leagues above an extra.
Totally different from the old me, hiding my face behind long hair.
I gazed out the window, savoring the clear weather.
Soon, all seats filled up, and it hit 9 a.m.
Drag.
The door opened, and everyone held their breath.
Dead silence.
Simple reason.
Class A's homeroom teacher, Irene Rock, who entered, had eyes unnaturally—excessively—low.
The wheelchair wheels creaked.
"What... did everyone enjoy the canceled classes?"
The most oblivious student raised a hand and spoke.
Bravely tossing out the question on everyone's mind.
"How did it happen?"
"I said I was heading to the front lines."
"...You said it was support."
"Yeah. Active A-Ranks and retired A-Ranks all gathered for a Class 1 subjugation."
Active A-Ranks and retired A-Ranks.
No S-Rank concept like in other novels or games—this world topped out at A.
Government had mobilized every ounce of available firepower for a monster subjugation op.
Why was Irene back in a day? Injury? Or success?
'No such event in the game. Irene Rock getting hurt?'
Even ability users die to bullets.
That's why the government endures.
Monsters, though? Different story.
They regen from gunfire. Bullets often don't work at all.
Rock-paper-scissors.
The bizarre triangle holds.
Government controls ability users but needs them. Users hunt monsters but need the government too.
Irene spoke up.
"Wheelchair and eyepatch drawing stares? We're that tight already?"
Students gauged the mood.
Heavy vibe.
'Not just the wheelchair and eyepatch.'
A retired A-Rank hero, bandaged up, in casts, parked in a wheelchair—that was the issue.
Retired or not, A-Rank was A-Rank.
Their bodies transcended human limits, forged by accumulated mana.
And that body was injured.
Reading the room, she scratched her head and dropped a line.
"It'll all heal. No worries."
"Pardon?"
"School nurse Ritta. A-Rank healing ability user. Introduced her before."
"Then..."
"Told you, full recovery."
The sunken mood finally started lifting.
"Class begins. Today's lesson: monster types and classes."
Thankfully, familiar stuff.
"First example: the Class 1 they tried subjugating yesterday."
A photo stuck to the board.
Eerie image with purple glow.
Suddenly, chalk floated up and started scrawling in midair.
Sensing the stares, Irene explained right away.
"Borrowed this relic from a friend. Kinda hard writing on the board from a seat..."
She moved her gloved hand; the chalk mimicked perfectly.
Telekinesis-type relic. Manipulate objects at range.
Honestly, a little jealous.
She scrawled 'Class 1' in big letters.
Scraaape.
The board scratched, revealing four dotted lines.
"What is Class 1? Humanity's greatest threat—the most evolved monsters."
A student raised a hand.
"Yes. Question."
"What's the difference between Class 1, 2, and 3?"
"Class 3: small animal form. Class 2: bigger size. Class 1: intelligent."
Intelligence.
No longer humanity's exclusive domain.
Monsters think, use language, mimic humans.
They're evolving too.
Students fell silent.
"Class 1 means intelligent mega-monsters. The one we tried for yesterday? This guy."
Irene's hand pointed to the top of the board.
Wheelchair kept her short, but the intent landed clear.
Everything in view.
Including the three names below.
'...Class 1, the big four representatives.'
Centipede defying ascent.
Wings blooming in abundance.
Sharp, rending blade.
Octopus mimicking faces.
Seoul's most dangerous Class 1 monsters right now.
Uncomfortably familiar.
Game bosses.
Knew they were insanely strong by lore, but seeing it hit different.
'Why even attempt a Class 1 subjugation? In the untouched timeline, main story—no such event.'
Hypothesis.
Ivy Lane soloed one, never told the government.
Can't subjugate a vanished Class 1, so they scrapped it.
'Ridiculous.'
Or Ivy revealed her regression power, warned of heavy losses?
Government likely knows her power already.
Status checks reveal ability names and effects roughly.
Kids demo powers young for registration—hard to imagine they missed it.
Just more tangled now.
Head throbbed.
Irene continued.
"The monster we targeted: Centipede Defying Ascent."
A student raised a hand.
"Yeah. Speak."
"How are names decided?"
"Monsters wield weird powers. Like ours—abilities."
"...So."
"Right. Names from their abilities."
Irene spun her wheelchair toward the class.
Her eye met everyone's.
"Centipede Defying Ascent: massive centipede storm. Defies physics and attacks, endlessly climbs without falling. Turns paths to wastelands, too."
Students swallowed hard.
Another question.
"Why summon every A-Rank for a Class 1? Did it succeed?"
"...Does a student need that info? Over the line, no?"
"Sorry."
The clueless kid apologized, head bowed.
Clap.
Irene clapped, signaling end of class.
"That's it for today. You A-Class kids are theory whizzes anyway, right? That's why you're here."
Her call: no need for history or theory lectures.
"Practical from now on."
Students eyed each other nervously again.
Irene, pissed, scowled and bellowed.
"Dismissed! Out to the gym! Sparring practice till dinner!"
I slung the guitar case over my shoulder and blended into the crowd heading out.
Tap.
Someone's hand on my shoulder.
Me, easy target? Lately, folks kept shoulder-tapping me.
I turned.
Blonde hair, blue eyes.
Beauty.
'...Dana?'
The classic bully glare before sending the bread shuttle on errands.
I flinched back on instinct.
"Got a weapon now?"
"Huh?"
"That on your back—not a guitar case. What's inside?"
"Yeah. A spear."
"Your weapon?"
"Yeah."
She grinned the instant I finished.
Bad vibe.
"Spar with me. No refusals."
Why are you picking on me?
You damn bitch.