Regulation 7: The Disciplinary Committee Leader Does Not Dwell on Black Day
The greatest difference between the Old Humans and the New Humans was mana sensitivity.
Most Old Humans, even after awakening mana, struggled to wield it at even the most rudimentary level — while New Humans could command it as effortlessly as breathing.
Mana was a mysterious energy that flowed through the body, a force that elevated living beings into something stronger.
That pinnacle of strength was expressed through Nine Tiers.
Tier 1.
The level of possessing mana but lacking any ability to control it. It was also a term used to describe ordinary people. New Humans did not fall under this category.
Tier 2.
The realm of reinforcing one's physical capabilities through mana circulation. Depending on skill, a person here could shrug off bullets or anti-air shells. This was the starting point of the New Humans.
Tier 3.
The realm of channeling mana into objects with built-in mana circuits, multiplying their function, hardness, and so on.
Tier 4.
The realm of converting mana into the power of a single element — though the body's reinforcement effects could be maintained simultaneously. Which elements one could convert into was determined by mana's innate nature.
Tier 5.
The realm of awakening a Unique Ability — a special power usable by one individual alone. Anyone who reached Tier 5 was regarded as a genius.
Tier 6.
The realm of wielding a Unique Ability and elemental power at the same time. Pulling off both simultaneously demanded exceptional mastery over one's mana.
Tier 7.
The realm where a Unique Ability grew powerful enough to bring about calamity. One who reached Tier 7 could make the world tremble at the mere mention of their name.
Tier 8.
The realm that reshapes heaven and earth.
Among humans, only the modern Argonauts — who had once devised an operation to subdue the Golden Ram — had ever attained it. Every last one of them had been defeated by the Golden Ram and perished.
Tier 9.
The realm of the Golden Ram, and the Golden Ram alone.
The Golden Ram was a being at the very zenith of mana — some even regarded it as a god. No one but the Golden Ram would ever reach Tier 9.
The Nine Tiers were a concept established upon beings whose existence had actually been observed.
"So in the end, he's Tier 4."
After watching the sparring footage, the other academies delivered their interim assessment of Ahseong High's Disciplinary Committee Leader.
"He seems fairly strong in one-on-one combat, but in an actual battle he'd probably be weaker than us. After all, he's only Tier 4."
"How can you judge him off one short sparring session? Still, he certainly looks strong."
"His skill is decent... but I'm not sure yet."
They acknowledged Ahn Woo-jin's combat ability — and yet they couldn't help harboring doubts about whether he was truly fit to hold the position of Disciplinary Committee Leader, a seat he'd taken over Oh Baek-seo.
That said, no one could yet gauge exactly what level Woo-jin's hidden full strength might reach.
They remained wary of him.
Meanwhile —
"So Ahseong High's Disciplinary Committee Leader is Tier 4..."
Lee Je-ho, Disciplinary Committee Leader of Mahyeon High School, muttered under his breath as he tilted his glasses up.
His vice leader, wearing the same pair of glasses, stroked his own chin and replied.
"He's far too strong for Tier 4, if you ask me."
"Vice Leader, this is not a matter you can measure by the number 'Tier 4' alone."
"Sir?"
Je-ho was still steeped in astonishment.
His finesse in manipulating mana at that granular level exceeded Je-ho's own.
The dazzling style of his fighting was equally startling. It was as if he were a former agent — one of the Federal Council's hunting dogs who carried out black ops across the Academy City.
"Well... I suppose so. I've never seen anyone match him in a duel, at least. It is surprising that someone like that is still Tier 4."
"Perhaps."
Je-ho leaned back in his chair and sipped his hot espresso.
"Perhaps he hit the wall of talent early, stalled out at Tier 4, and has been racking up achievements ever since."
"Is that even possible? A wall of talent that high?"
"It's possible."
Je-ho leaned back again.
"If the conditions for acquiring a new Unique Ability are extraordinarily strict. In other words, if his potential is at an insane level..."
If Woo-jin ever did break through the wall of Tier 5 —
He might become a monster beyond what the word genius could describe.
"He may not be much now, but he's clearly not a man to take lightly."
Je-ho was factoring in Ahn Woo-jin's potential as well.
Perhaps, Je-ho thought, Ahseong High's decision to seat Ahn Woo-jin — and not Oh Baek-seo — in the leader's chair had been the right call after all.
"Hmm... In other words, you view him favorably. That's a relief, then."
"What?"
Out of nowhere, the vice leader handed Je-ho a document.
"Vice Leader, what is this?"
"A proposal for an exchange event with Ahseong High School's Disciplinary Committee."
"?"
Je-ho stared at his vice leader, baffled, confusion clouding his eyes.
"Mahyeon's Disciplinary Committee and Ahseong's haven't gotten along, so the idea is to build some goodwill starting this year. A 'Peace Rally,' if you will. Peace."
"What in the—!? Did you honestly expect me to sign off on this nonsense, Vice Leader!?"
"The proposal was drafted on the Student Council President's orders. And who knows — handle this matter well, and the President might just dote on y—"
Scribble!
Je-ho signed the approval line without a moment's hesitation.
The vice leader smoothly retrieved the document.
"There we go, all approved."
"Ghhk... Listen carefully, Vice Leader. I only signed because it's the President's wishes. I will never — not even if Neo Seoul itself crumbles to dust — get chummy with those Ahseong High Disciplinary Committee bastards...!"
Je-ho's face had flushed red somewhere along the way.
His hand trembled violently around the pen as he hardened his resolve.
"Yes, of course, sir. Understood perfectly."
The vice leader nodded along placidly.
Mahyeon High's current Student Council President was Je-ho's sworn sister.
He revered her, and he longed for her approval.
...Which was putting it generously.
Truthfully, Je-ho couldn't refuse a single request from his sister, and he spent every day grinning ear to ear while scrolling through her photos. A full-blown sister complex.
"I'll submit this approval to the Student Council then. Since it's the President's directive, the sign-off will go through quickly anyway — I should notify Ahseong High in advance."
"Uuugh..."
Je-ho's body shuddered.
"Boss, the view count is insane!"
April 14th. The Disciplinary Committee executives' office.
Ha Ye-song thrust her smartphone into the air and shouted, her face absolutely radiant.
"Told you the Boss prints money!"
"Isn't that a weird way to put it?"
"It's my own special brand of praise. Not just anybody can be profitable, you know? Unless they're selling organs, anyway."
That's an unhealthy expression, Ye-song.
"Ha Ye-song, you're a Disciplinary Committee executive. Refrain from such immoral phrasing."
"Hehe, sowwy~"
"And... there's nothing to celebrate anyway. Every won that video generates is getting funneled straight to the Student Council."
"Still, if we're gonna get squeezed dry anyway, might as well squeeze back for every last drop. Feels better that way, no?"
"That is literally a loan shark's mindset..."
A mosquito would also be an apt description for you.
"Honestly, at this point it's doubtful whether any of it will even get confiscated."
"That's true, huh?"
It had been decided that the revenue generated from the sparring video with the Sindorim Swordmaster would be confiscated by the Disciplinary Committee.
It was deemed illicit profit — the unjust gains of unlawful conduct.
And so Shin Soo had been reduced to the sorry state of owing us the revenue from that sparring video, every single month.
The deadline: until graduation.
Driven to the wall, Shin Soo had filed for a constitutional review of the regulation with the Court Academy.
Having already hurled her pride into the dirt, her sheer capacity for shameless action was second to none.
In the end, the revenue confiscation was suspended in full until a ruling on its constitutionality came down.
If the ruling upheld the rule, Shin Soo would have to cough up every cent she'd withheld.
If it struck the rule down, the confiscation would be canceled and the regulation abolished — but that was no concern of mine. The confiscated money went to the Student Council regardless; what was there for me to covet? Only Shin Soo, burdened with proving it unconstitutional, would end up exhausted.
Ding.
"Hm?"
A text notification chimed from Ye-song's uniform pocket.
She immediately checked her phone.
"Boss, I'm gonna go grab jajangmyeon with the Gourmet Club kids!"
The Gourmet Club was a restaurant-hunting circle — the only club other than the Disciplinary Committee that Ye-song belonged to.
"Jajangmyeon?"
"I have to eat jajangmyeon today. It's a matter of grave importance!"
"?"
Not I want to eat it — I have to eat it?
Ah. She's just phrasing 'I'm hungry' in a fancy way, isn't she.
"Enjoy your meal too, Boss~!"
Ye-song bounced out of the office, practically skipping.
Jajangmyeon, huh... Now that I hear it, I'm craving it.
Come to think of it, it had been a long time since I'd had any.
Might as well have it for lunch today.
I pulled out my smartphone to order through the delivery app — and it buzzed, a CoconutTalk message coming in.
It was from Vice Leader Oh Baek-seo.
Baek-seo's profile picture: the back view of someone in a hanok garden, dressed in a traditional hanbok. Even over CoconutTalk, an air of quiet refinement radiated from it.
What's with the question mark?
Really what?
Ah, just an exclamation, then.
I ordered two bowls of jajangmyeon and a sweet-and-sour pork set through the delivery app.
Baek-seo arrived at the office, and ten minutes later the jajangmyeon set followed.
Once the food was laid out on the table, I settled onto the couch beside Baek-seo.
Oof. That smell is criminal.
The aroma of jajangmyeon after so long was intensely stimulating. My mouth watered on the spot.
"You ordered sweet-and-sour pork too?"
"You don't like it?"
"Not at all. I love it."
Baek-seo shook her head, wearing her usual gentle smile.
She rubbed the wooden chopsticks briskly between her palms to warm them, then pressed — and with a clean snap, the chopsticks split perfectly down the middle.
...Hold on a second.
Oops.
Was warming chopsticks with palm friction considered uncouth?
No — no, this much was well within acceptable bounds.
It was done for the scientifically sound purpose of splitting the chopsticks precisely in half. It was, without question, a logical and rational act.
One must maintain one's dignity even when eating a simple bowl of jajangmyeon.
That was, naturally, the attitude expected of a Disciplinary Committee Leader.
Thank goodness I'd caught myself in time.
I'd almost grabbed the takeout bowl and shaken it around to mix the noodles. Now that would have been positively graceless.
Certainly not something to be seen doing in front of the vice leader.
After peeling the plastic wrap off the jajangmyeon, I swirled the noodles and sauce together with my chopsticks.
To the slick, wet sound of mixing, the white noodles slowly took on the glossy black of the sauce.
Yes, this is the way.
There was no way a mere bowl of jajangmyeon was going to leave even the faintest dent in my dignity.
At last I lifted a chopstick's worth of noodles and brought them to my mouth. Slurp. The right balance of salt and sweetness bloomed into a rich burst of umami.
Outstanding.
I was blissfully inhaling strand after strand of noodles when —
"Boss."
"Yeah?"
"Why jajangmyeon, all of a sudden? And with me?"
Baek-seo asked with a smile.
I couldn't fathom what she was getting at.
"Because I wanted some. And if I'm eating, better to eat together, no?"
"Is that so...?"
Baek-seo tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and slurped down a few noodles. A meaningful smile hung at the corner of her mouth.
What is this?
Something felt...
Something felt off.
Suddenly I remembered Ye-song shouting that she had to eat jajangmyeon today.
And Baek-seo seemed to know something too.
There was no meaningful jajangmyeon-related memory within the Disciplinary Committee that I knew of.
Then what?
I took out my phone and searched the internet.
When I looked up "jajangmyeon," a piece of information I'd never once cared about caught my eye.
April 14th — Black Day.
A day for the men and women who received no chocolate on Valentine's Day and no candy on White Day to gather and share bowls of jajangmyeon.
Clothing and accessories must all be black, and at cafés, one must drink black coffee.
A day for singles to comfort one another — and, sometimes, to become lovers.
"Ah."
Ye-song's words. Baek-seo's reaction.
Only now did I understand why.
Today was April 14th — Black Day.
Of all days, I'd ordered jajangmyeon for the first time in ages today, and the person I'd invited was Baek-seo.
Baek-seo may well have taken my invitation to share jajangmyeon in an entirely different light.
A day for becoming lovers, too.
Those words kept nagging at me.
Should I... clear this up?
Should I explain that inviting her to eat jajangmyeon carried no special meaning whatsoever?
No. That would be utterly graceless.
It'd sound like a bunch of flimsy excuses. Pathetic, even.
"Hmm..."
At some point I'd forgotten I was even eating, lost in the dilemma.
"Boss."
"Hm."
"This jajangmyeon is delicious."
Baek-seo said it with a smile.
"Shall we make this place our regular spot?"
"......"
And then, unexpectedly, the sight of Baek-seo's utterly composed smile cleared my head in an instant.
You know what — who cares whether today is Black Day or not.
Baek-seo surely knew what day it was.
Ordinarily, she would never have let an opportunity like this slip by without teasing me.
How could she possibly pass up the delicious situation of me inviting her to share jajangmyeon on Black Day, of all days?
And yet Baek-seo hadn't tossed out a single joke.
Meaning she clearly didn't attach any significance to Black Day.
If anything, fussing over a thing like that is what's childish and undignified. Baek-seo knows that too.
If I'd made a whole flustered show of explaining myself, it would only have damaged my dignity further.
Not that I'd wanted to in the first place.
What a pointless worry.
"Doesn't matter."
I answered with the corner of my mouth curled up.
After that, I went on finishing my jajangmyeon without another thought.
Baek-seo, quietly munching on her pickled radish, said:
"Boss, you won't be eating jajangmyeon again after today, will you?"
"I suppose not?"
"Good enough for me."
?
Slurp. Baek-seo finished the rest of her jajangmyeon.