Victory at All Costs

The president's opening remarks and address went exactly as expected. The usual predictable platitudes anyone could foresee, regrets about yesterday's events, and talk about how the academy should move forward.

A few students seemed deeply moved by the president's words, but for me—someone who'd heard them so often while gaming that I'd spam-skipped them—it was just frustrating that there was no skip button in reality.

"...So, I ask that you all remember once more that you are the heroes of Korea, of the world. That concludes my remarks."

As the president's words ended, applause erupted from the crowd. Cutting through the clapping came the speaker's voice.

"Youngje! Youngje! The guy coming up now—he's the top dog of the Korean Hero Association, right?"

"Top dog... well, that's a bit much, but yeah, he's the highest-ranking one."

As Sea-a and Youngje said, the man striding onto the stage was someone whose position alone could stir up a storm across Korea. His gait exuded dominance, his physique solid and resolute. Slicked-back pomade hair and black horn-rimmed glasses completed the look.

"Greetings, everyone. I'm Kang Man-seok, Chairman of the Korean Branch of the Hero Association."

With his introduction, the rapid click-click of shutters echoed from the back. Several seated students gazed at him with eyes full of admiration.

Kang Man-seok swept his gaze over us and flashed a gentle smile. His words to us first-years were much like the president's—formal, rote content that made me itch to hit skip.

...If not for what he said at the very end.

"I understand that yesterday, the academy was attacked by terrorists calling themselves the Villain Union. This place that nurtures the future heroes of Korea, the talents who will shoulder our nation's tomorrow."

...Well, now.

Was this a change because the terror date got moved up? I started getting interested as his voice grew more impassioned, commanding the room.

"This should never have happened! We adults failed to prepare or respond properly—it's our fault!"

Translating that: What the hell did the academy do to get hit by a terror attack they announced in advance? This is all your responsibility, got it? Oh, us? We're innocent, anyway.

In other words, he was openly attacking the academy from a public stage.

"The Hero Association and I feel great responsibility. We deeply regret failing to ensure a safe environment!"

He was saying the blame extended to the association too. To the naive ear, it might sound like sharing the burden... but the reality was different.

This was just a roundabout way of saying they'd interfere with the academy. The president's face, listening with a smile, was visibly stiffening in real time.

"To ensure nothing like this happens again, the association promises to do its utmost for the students!"

The picture was becoming clear. This must be the kind of pressure Gwak Chunsik had mentioned from the association. Especially since the academy was an independent entity the association couldn't fully control, they might use this incident as a wedge.

But the problem was doing it at the first-year welcome ceremony. Watching the president's and student council's faces harden, Kang Man-seok wrapped up with a smile, perhaps not planning to push further.

"I wish you all healthy academy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lives. Thank you."

Amid the applause, he left the stage. Only after he was fully gone did the clapping die down, and Yuri's voice rang out.

The next to appear was one of Korea's top S-rank heroes in the association and among the nation's most famous.

"Greetings, underclassmen. I'm Lee Won-ho, graduate of Seoul Hero Academy and leader of the 'Metal' Guild."

And...

"Like everyone, I'm deeply worried about yesterday's events and fully agree with the chairman's thoughts."

He was also the association's frontman.

"Yesterday taught us much. That you first-years aren't weak... and that the academy's security is laughably lax. As a senior, I can't stand by in such an environment. It's heartbreaking!"

This was predictable. He'd always been treated like dirt by the current student council president, Ray Pendragon, back when Ray was his junior.

The president's and faculty's faces grew icy as Lee Won-ho ranted on. You could practically feel the chill.

"...Whoa. Didn't expect them to turn this into a battlefield."

Even sharp-minded Youngje had figured it out, wearing an astonished expression like he hadn't anticipated this.

Jinwoo, who looked half-asleep moments ago, now had sparkling eyes and was munching popcorn he'd pulled from who-knows-where, thighs clamped around the bag.

"Jinwoo, wanna share?"

"Huh? Sure."

My gaze shifted to one corner of the prep area. There sat a man whose lips curved faintly upward even in this mess.

The mastermind who'd coordinated with the Korean chairman and Lee Won-ho, reviewing the script in advance.

Ray Pendragon.

Amid the student council members' cold stares, he alone smiled.

...Already scheming to devour the academy bit by bit, huh?

Then I'd have to block him my way.

"...Whenever you need help, come find me. Thank you."

The applause was noticeably thinner than before. The other kids were starting to sense the weird vibe.

Realizing this wasn't just a welcome ceremony, but a political warzone.

My turn had finally come. I stood, script from the academy in hand, and walked to the stage.

Several gazes followed me. In real life, maybe it'd be different, but after Parnello and Alesia's rigorous heir training, this felt familiar.

Didn't expect them to make me rehearse in front of the organization members just because I'd be giving the pledge as rep, though...

Atop the stage, the vast hall stretched before me, packed with people watching my every word and move.

I glanced at the script in my hand and began reciting slowly.

Truly, utterly bland and uninspiring. Boring.

After ripping into the academy backstage, now I had to thank these clowns with no retort? Boring.

That wasn't the Calione way.

Thwack!

The smooth flow halted, plunging the vast space into silence. I raised the script high for all to see.

'Wh-what's he doing?'

'Some performance, probably.'

'Student council—did you clear this beforehand?'

Murmurs rippled. Fine, if it was a performance, it'd be one.

Riiip—

I tore the script in half for all to see, then halved it again, and again, scattering the confetti as I spoke.

"—Know shame."

In another route, maybe. If I hadn't possessed Eugene Han Calione, maybe.

But dare. Dare—to splash filth on my academy while I'm working it?

"Coming to a first-year welcome and bickering over your rice bowls? You should be ashamed."

This was pride as Calione heir—and gamer.

Since I'd enrolled here—claimed this turf—no one's shit would soil it.

"You should've praised the instructors who protected first-years from villains, the students who triumphed, and stoked the freshmen’s rage against them."

But they didn't. Too busy lining their pockets.

"If I'd been chairman, a proud Seoul Hero Academy grad, I'd have declared confidently to the students and guests: You did well. You held strong. You won."

"But you? You just said the academy's broken—and you'll fix it."

I paused for breath, deciding on the perfect line for this moment. No one here knew it, so I'd be the first.

"First-year rep Han Yujin. Here and now, I declare ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠boldly."

The pledge was similar to the script, but I infused it with 'history' from my old world, transforming and proclaiming solemnly.

"We need no aid from you."

"We shall not weaken or fail."

"We shall fight to the end."

"We shall fight in Korea, in the world, on the seas."

"With growing confidence and strength, we shall fight in the skies."

"Whatever the cost, we shall protect the people from villains."

I gazed at the sea of freshmen before the stage.

"Trials of pain await us. Years of struggle and suffering lie ahead. If asked our purpose, we answer: To wield our power against atrocities unmatched in humanity's long list of crimes! That is the hero. If asked our aim, one word suffices."

Victory.

"Victory at all costs. Victory despite terror. Victory however long and hard the road. For without victory, there is no peace."

Thanks to these greedy adults, I'd ended up schooling the freshmen—but no regrets. They needed to hear it.

"Never give in. Never, never, never! Great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense."

And those who'd spoken before me should've said this.

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal. It is the courage to continue that counts. That concludes. Han Yujin, first-year representative."

I bowed to end it, eyeing the window that popped up.

Bingo.