The Demo TA Bows Out

"Thanks for all your hard work on the exams, everyone."

Cries erupt from all corners. Some exhale in triumphant cheers, others in sighs of despair, but with that, the tumultuous specialized course finally draws to a close.

"Even though it was a makeup class, let's give another round of applause to our TA who worked so hard with us for these ten weeks."

After sending the students' final exam papers to the office, Professor Cheon Kyujin pondered how to wrap things up.

"You worked hard too, Professor. Do you have any lectures lined up for next year?"

"Unfortunately not. And starting next year, I'll be on sabbatical, so I probably won't be back until after you all graduate. Assuming you make it through safely, that is."

His light joke eased the lingering tension in the students.

"We started with fifty students, but now only twenty-eight elites remain. Don't worry too much—I'll grade including the dropouts, so if you hit the average, you won't be disappointed. You all worked hard through the winter makeup semester. This has been Professor Cheon Kyujin of Micro-Nano Transmutation Circle Analysis. Thank you."

Amid thunderous applause, students begin logging out one by one. Though it was a short time, he sends off the students whose names he's now memorized from roll call, lost in a moment of sentiment.

The one who dozed off every day in the back row, yet aced the midterm somehow. The one so full of curiosity that he bombarded him with questions after every class, leaving him flustered at times. The fulfillment that came with it was only natural.

The first round of grading the exams fell to the TA. With little time left before the grade entry deadline—not to mention handling claims—he needed to start now. The TA excused himself from Professor Cheon Kyujin and left the room first.

In the end, the last one remaining was that mysterious little girl he'd met during last summer's class. At first, he thought she was a retired professor friend come to tease him, but as the lectures progressed, she was genuinely absorbing his material.

"How'd the exam go?"

"Eh, so-so..."

"Haha. I'm looking forward to the results. My students are all top talents, but I was worried they'd fall behind you, Nami."

"It's NoName, not Nami."

"NoName?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry for the misunderstanding. As you can see, kids these days practically live in virtual reality, and this is only my second time teaching in it—feels awkward. If it's not too rude, I'd love to meet you in person outside VR sometime. Would that be okay?"

She wasn't a regular undergrad. Still, her curiosity about this child—who attended every class and delivered standout performances—grew.

"Don't have much time. If you insist, see you at claims processing. You're doing it in person, right?"

She was curious about her exam score, at least. Professor Cheon Kyujin smiled faintly at her response.

"Well then."

"Do you know the way?"

"..."

"If not, I can tell you now."

After Arin’s adoption, I left Merlin Orphanage without looking back. For the next few months, I crashed daily at Gung PC Bang.

Good thing the shutdown law was scrapped two years ago, or I'd have ended up bunking with the homeless at Seoul Station. The nun didn't seem too bothered—plenty like me—and handed me my 150,000 won share before seeing me off.

No time to slack. At my rate, I needed 30,000 won a day just for shelter.

But my stubborn refusal to game didn't last. I set the category to "Just Chatting" and started a weird stream solving kids' homework for cash. It was my only talent.

Minimum a thousand won per question—after fees, a few answers and the money piled up quick.

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

"Thanks for the donation."

I open the attached photo in the donation window. I don't talk much by nature, so only the serene melody of Liszt's list from the background fills the quiet.

I set up a digital blackboard beside the donation pane and start explaining.

"This is a transmutation circle-based problem, but it's really just math, not circle theory. No need to analyze the whole circle. We just need the angle they ask for. See how this line kinks unnaturally?"

I draw a horizontal auxiliary line at the kink.

"Then these are parallel, that's 30 degrees. These too, so 45. Add 'em up: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠75 degrees."

After a few sessions, even middle school freshman-level stuff stuck with me.

I'd solve it, then close my eyes for a break. Viewers didn't bug me—they entertained themselves—and I was content. Still scraping by daily, though.

Right as I was drifting off, another donation pings.

"...Yeah."

Brain foggy, I double-check the question, delaying my reply.

No fixed rates, but I'd up the ante for long ones. Uploading at a grand would spark a comment riot.

More than. I pore over another viewer's query.

"Hold on."

Need the net's help. Concept's clear, but this world's terms escape me. Search stumped, I type what comes to mind.

"Oh, here it is. To derive the conclusion, grasp perfectoid spaces. Too lazy to explain—check Namu Wiki roughly..."

I agree—even Tower days, few knew it.

"Open sets defined like this. Fix prime p, extend the system thus."

Not tough. Just unfamiliar concepts.

"Anyway, the formula you want derives like so. Ask if curious."

No reply—probably wrestling my equations. No rush; can't erase 'em.

Chat arena again. But I side with one camp this time.

"Basic theory bridging rings and fields—huge in magic studies. Like casting 3rd Circle with just 1st Circle quals."

Vital. Legend says 9th Circle's dragon-only due to human limits, but 7th unlocks conditional casts with quals.

"Why not?"

"What's WoA?"

Sounds like VR with mana sim. Tech's wild—thought mana replication impossible.

"Let's try."

PC bang's got most programs. Sure enough, World of Arceria ranks #2—above my LoL grind.

Mana world = real world? Why VR then?

Tingly like first LoL login floods my senses. Skim tedious terms, skip—and a new world unfolds.

Birds chirp in dense forest. Chilly damp clings to skin. I scan around, rooted—game help drops an arrow for direction.

Real as hell. Crunching leaves, sunlight piercing canopy. This is VR.

No time for awe—wolf howls echo afar.

As chat said, tiny girl unconscious by lake, three-four wolves circling.

Mana circuits sealed—no magic. Body feels real-like mine.

Need wolf solution. Mage, not merc. Zero melee skill.

One wolf eyes me, approaches. I backpedal; it creeps closer, unhurried. Seen prey bolt plenty.

I flop down, play dead.

Play dead, observe. Deceiving predators—human genius strat.

Awoooo! Pack calls pals, encircles me. Clockwise prowl, closing in.

Escape blocked, lead wolf rears paw at my head—I snatch its other leg.

"Cast: Circuit Reconstruction."

Secret transmutation formula on bare ground activates. Wolf freaks, leaps—then staggers, collapses.

Magic fails for many reasons: no mana grasp, formula ignorance, magic denial. Or self-limits: blocked/destroyed circuits, curses. Or environment—but wolves' size/horns scream mana-rich woods.

System curse? Circuits open, but mana blocked by semi-permeable membrane at dantian.

Fix simple: borrow another's dantian.

Grab leg—sync earth-me-wolf, hijack its mana to ground its dantian.

Little mana, it'll dizzy post-depletion but recover soon. Handle quick.

Two wolves hesitate, charge.

No miscalc mana drain—cheapest spell first.

"Cast: Friction Coefficient Adjustment."

Smooth earth rearranges atoms minimally—low mana. Academy kid stuff, perfect vs beasts.

Wolves sprint, slip wildly, collide, flail clueless.

Not kill—save girl for magic. Bye, doggos.