Ares' Provocation

After finishing the survival class and returning to the classroom, we heard the academy's announcement that club activities could resume after school today.

"We're aliiiiiive!!"

Jinwoo dropped to his knees on the floor and began praying to the heavens, even though it was just resuming club activities. What the hell was he doing? As I wondered that, Youngje approached as if reading my mind and explained.

"Heard he had mentoring scheduled today. He's been like that since he realized he could skip it using club activities as an excuse."

"Ah."

He must really hate mentoring. Well, if it were me, I'd pick club activities over Han Yeo-eun's training too...

Just one more request to go until completing the academy's main story. To clear it, we'd need to proceed with club activities, and fortunately, the restrictions were lifted today.

"By the way, haven't the requests been piling up lately?"

Recently, the club had been taking not just written requests but also ones from the academy community boards, so there were quite a few stacked up.

"Ah, yes. But after sorting out the miscellaneous ones and those we don't need to bother with, there are about three worth doing."

The request titles Sea-a showed me were these.

"Material gathering, human experimentation, and a mercenary contract..."

Solid, straightforward requests. The one that stood out was the Hunter Club's call for mercenaries.

"Is the Hunter Club prepping a raid?"

The Hunter Club was the one Sea-a had originally wanted to join—one of the academy's few mega Platinum clubs. If they were hiring mercenaries, it wasn't going to be a small-scale raid.

"I asked around with some interns from the Hunter Club next door, and apparently, they're attempting a raid on the new B-rank dungeon that popped up on Bukaksan."

A B-rank dungeon required at least two parties of active heroes to clear. For academy cadets, probably around five parties. In that case...

"Succession training and byproduct harvesting, most likely."

"Yeah, that's what I think too."

I had no idea where they got raid rights for a B-rank dungeon, but one thing was clear: it could be dangerous for anyone without top-tier skills.

"Any specific conditions attached?"

"Yeah, they prefer frontliners."

"...Frontliners?"

Did we even have anyone in the club suited for the front line? Jinwoo used a sword but was an assassin type, not frontline material. Sea-a and Youngje were mages, so that left the martial artist...

"They just want a mercenary contract with me, basically."

"Figured as much."

It could be pure admiration for my skills, but... my instincts screamed there was more to it.

"...We should look into it more. Need to hear everyone else's opinions too."

"Yeah, better to approach ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cautiously."

Then the meeting should be in the club sub-room.

"It's been a while—let's head to the sub-room. Do some cleaning too."

* * *

In the basement of the club building, walking the corridor with the club members, Jinwoo grinned dopily and muttered.

"Man, feels like forever since we last went to the sub-room."

Youngje nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it has been a while."

We hadn't done any club activities since the terror threat video surfaced—about a week, probably.

"Still, being able to use that comfy sub-room again is great. Honestly, our sub-room beats the academy training grounds by a mile, right?"

Sea-a, already hooked on Familia's perks, smiled positively. Indeed, good employee welfare boosts loyalty.

The kids were genuinely thrilled with it too.

As I reached for the number pad to enter the sub-room, I noticed sounds coming from inside.

"...Sounds like someone's in there."

"Inside? Eek! N-No way, a thief? My Another String!!"

Our sub-room did have pricey stuff, sure. But...

"No way they could sneak massive equipment out of the academy undetected. More likely someone who knows the code."

"Anyone besides us know the number?"

"Couple of people?"

One was our advisor, Ji Suhyun. The other...

"Ah, Young Master—er, President. I heard voices outside and hoped it was you."

Inomiya Haru, president of the International Trade Club.

"What brings you here?"

"I heard club activities resume today, so I had a company I know clean the sub-room. Hope I didn't overstep."

Peeking through the open door, I saw people diligently cleaning in uniforms—likely from Haru's family business.

"No, I'm grateful, actually."

I was thinking of calling a service myself, so this was perfect.

"Glad to hear. Oh, most of it's done, so feel free to go in."

Following Haru's guidance inside, the sub-room was spotless, just like when we left it.

"I'll repay the favor later."

"You haven't repaid my debt yet—deduct it from that?"

She took my sincere words as a joke. I chuckled and nodded.

"I'll consider it."

"Thank you. Looks like cleaning's wrapped up. I'll head back to the International Trade Club—rest easy."

After seeing Haru off with a bow, we returned to the sub-room.

"Jinwoo, you can do three more. Come on!"

"I'm dying! I'm seriously dying!"

"Don't underestimate Another String! You won't die—up we go! One!"

"Kiyeeeeek!!"

Jinwoo and Youngje grinding weights in the training room.

"Ah, this one's expiring soon. Eugene, can I take it home?"

Sea-a organizing the fridge for new desserts.

Seeing this, it finally felt like the club was back in full swing. Sinking into the sofa with a rare moment of leisure...

-...Ki...ya?

-...De.

-...kka.

Murmurs from outside. The Z-room sub-room was isolated—no other rooms or visitors nearby. Who could it be?

"Clients maybe? I'll check!"

Sea-a, hearing it too, finished the fridge and headed out.

"Hello. Looking for ‘Familia’?"

Through the door crack, yellow name tags—second-years, by the look.

Sea-a asked cautiously, and the middle guy adjusted his glasses and spoke.

"You're a Familia member. And behind you... Club President Han Yujin, right?"

Unfriendly tone. Hearing my name like that irked me, so I stood and went to the entrance.

"That's me... Care to come in and talk?"

Judging by their looks, expressions, voices—not good news or quick chat. I stepped forward.

They exchanged glances and nodded.

"Sure."

That smile's giving me bad vibes.

Leading the three inside, they froze.

"Whoa... what is this? This is really a basement level 1 sub-room?"

"Dude, it's lavish. For a newbie club? Rumors were true."

"Why's it so spacious... Ours is tiny by comparison."

Our facilities had them stunned.

"Sea-a, take tea and snacks to the president's office while I host them there."

"Ah... Yes! The Regae-dong folks sent macarons—those okay?"

"Perfect."

In the office marked [President's Office], I seated them across from me.

"Doesn't seem like you're here for a request. What's up?"

Most who sought Familia were desperate, cornered students. But these guys? Smug, relaxed, enjoying themselves.

From experience, two types: here to pick a fight. Or here to pick a fight.

Either way, annoying.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Reason we're here? Nothing big. Mind if I drop formalities? I'm your senior."

Glasses guy smirked, pushing them up. First type, confirmed.

"If I say no, will you?"

"What? Haha, just being polite."

"Cool. Then I'm dropping them too."

Declaring it boldly, their faces twisted.

"We're still seniors, though..."

Glasses guy led the talk—probably the boss.

I sighed, eyeing him.

"No basic manners, but want senior treatment? Hilarious."

He crossed his legs.

"We should've introduced ourselves. We're the Silver club on the second floor—‘Ares’. All the grade's top fighters."

Ares? Memory pinged: academy's brawler club. Interesting, since I favored fists too.

"What does mighty ‘Ares’ want ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with ‘Familia’?"

He smirked.

"No big reason. Here ‘cause of the Ranger Club you beat in that all-out war recently."

"Ranger Club?"

Ah... right, them. Big events made it feel ancient.

"They owe Ares a debt."

Got it. Fight-pickers, confirmed. Just relaxed, and this...

But fights come—you don't dodge.

I smirked, meeting his eyes.

"No need to spell it out. Pay Rangers' debt for them, or take over their jobs. Something like that, right?"

Their eyes widened.

"Spot on! As expected from a newbie already run—"

"Get out."

"...What?"

"I said get out."

Who the hell do these punks think they are, threatening me?