Night Watch
On Legacy of Legend Online, anyone who dared to trash-talk NoName was swiftly banned. Forget her adorable looks that triggered adults' protective instincts—her world-renowned talent, mature demeanor, and voluntary charity work made her untouchable, even if she had a hundred haters.
Her erratic streaming schedule was the only thing that frustrated viewers, but otherwise, NoName was a walking sanctuary.
Her position at the academy, however, was a bit more nuanced. The elementary and middle school kids were too young to remember the Walpurgis serial kidnappings or the Arson Bridge disaster that had rocked Korea. No matter how much parents tried to explain, it didn't hit home for them.
Plus, the sixth-graders were on edge with middle school promotion exams looming. When parents kept holding NoName up as a comparison, her tragic past faded into the background—she just became an annoying rival.
But no one could deny her magical prowess. She'd replicated Seong Eun-byeol's arc discharge spell perfectly, matching its power without missing a beat.
Namgung Jin, facing her head-on, felt his competitive fire ignite. Like with Seong Eun-byeol, he wouldn't back down. He'd meet NoName's magic straight-up.
"You okay, sunbae? That must've hurt. Let me treat you, so get up already. There are eyes everywhere—it's embarrassing."
And this was the result.
"Hoo. Hooo."
Namgung Jin snapped awake, shaking his head side to side.
"Puhaha! Namgung Jin, what the hell? Did you seriously get knocked out by her spell in one hit? Lmao, my sides hurt... Hehhek."
"No way, that... couldn't have happened?"
"What do you mean 'no way'? You clearly passed out! Ugh, so embarrassing."
He'd been confident he could tank Seong Eun-byeol's max-power lightning spell head-on. With his aura barrier, how could an 8-year-old's magic drop him? Impossible.
"Come here. If there's residual electric mana in you, it could be bad for your body. I'll help ground it."
NoName spread her arms wide and hugged him from behind, her tiny body pressing against his back.
The sensation of this little life form clinging to him...
She's too cute!
Only then did Namgung Jin get why the girls in their class had freaked out after bumping into her at the canteen.
This wasn't earthly cuteness.
"I didn't do anything wrong, so no apology from me. But I never meant to disrespect my sunbaes—don't hate me too much for that."
NoName mumbled with her small mouth. Without turning, Namgung Jin could picture her eyes—wide and earnest. Her voice melted away his lingering pettiness. He nodded awkwardly, accepting it.
"I don't hate you. I've been on edge lately. Sorry for buying into the rumors."
"Rumors? What rumors?"
"Uh, well, word around school was you were ignoring upperclassmen and talking smack behind their backs. But you're clearly not that kind of kid."
"Ah, I see... Yeah, that's a misunderstanding."
NoName averted her eyes slyly. She figured it stemmed from her deliberately looking away in hallways to avoid awkward encounters.
At eight years old, her mental age far exceeded an adult's. Bumping into seniors at the cafeteria or canteen often led to cringe-worthy moments where even a greeting felt off.
Who was NoName? Twenty-five years as a man in her first life, twenty-five as a woman in her second, plus eight more. Especially from her past life—called "witch," "cursed bitch," "traitor," "filial impiety" behind her back—she'd always gotten utmost respect to her face: "Princess," "Savior."
Calling out "unnie," "oppa" multiple times a day felt like denying her entire history, gender and age included.
"Friend! How'd you pierce an aura barrier with arc discharge? I couldn't even scratch one—teach me the trick?"
Thankfully, Seong Eun-byeol jumped in, sparing NoName the full explanation.
"I've got a secret method. If you learn the knack, unnie, you could do it in a day."
"A day? How?"
Seong Eun-byeol's ears perked up. Some textbook-unlisted circuit formula? An efficient mana injection trick?
NoName's answer was a doozy.
"Eat grilled electric eel three meals a day."
* * *
The night sky's stars were devoured by neon lights, leaving only a lonely full moon. At 11 p.m., after escorting sleepy kids back to their rooms—rubbing their drowsy eyes—I'd dragged the sixth-graders up to the hotel rooftop terrace.
"NoName, my stomach's weak—I don't think I could stomach eels..."
"What are you talking about? Eating ice doesn't make you good at ice magic."
"Huh, it doesn't?"
"Of course not."
That's hexagonal water, germanium bracelet, fan ghost story-level superstition. Even in a world with magic, such supernatural nonsense doesn't fly.
"Truth is, we had watchers earlier."
"At the arena?"
"Yeah."
"Who?"
Probably Alteer Academy folks. They wanted every petty squabble on record. Even among the uniformed students, some seemed like disguised young teachers.
"We didn't do anything wrong—why spy?"
"They're disguising as students to scout our sparring and analyze weaknesses."
"Ehhh? That's cheating!"
"No rule against watching, so not quite cheating... but not fair play either."
As the student council president said, intel on our academy kids was leaking subtly, away from teachers' eyes.
"But is it a big deal? We rehearse once a week anyway—they'll see our styles then."
"Rehearsals are controlled. Private spars show raw habits—that's the difference."
Student eyes vs. teacher eyes? Worlds apart. The kids didn't grasp the penalty.
"Example: Other students watching might note, 'Eun-byeol unnie uses lightning, so watch out for water counters.'"
"Yeah, and?"
"Teacher input changes it: 'Avoid Arhen-line spells. Use Sutra-line earth magic to nullify, then quick single-leg takedown, elbow to shatter particle barrier.' See?"
Not every student applies it instantly, but it explains Alteer's decade of dominance—meaningful win-rate shifts.
"You... you..."
"Anyway, don't forget—this is Alteer Academy's home turf—"
"How do you even know that stuff?!"
Seong Eun-byeol's face twisted in shock. Namgung Jin gaped, whipping out his phone.
"Guys! Get to the rooftop NOW. Real NoName's here... insane! No, not mark time—hurry!"
Click. He shoved it in his pocket, eyes sparkling, yanking my hand.
"Hey, NoName-nim! Keep spilling? What's Eun-byeol's other weaknesses?"
"Haven't seen beyond arc discharge, so nothing solid..."
"One tip per... uh, ice cream here!"
"For real?"
"Promise!"
"As I said, Eun-byeol unnie sticks to series circuits—fully countered by Sutra line. But Maven-line disruption formulas nullify too."
"More?"
"She calculates composite resistance last, leaving the circle vulnerable. No full counter needed—in actual—"
"Stop! Aaaah stooop!"
Seong Eun-byeol shrieked.
"That's real cheating! That was my secret! Huh?"
Why leave it if you knew?
"If you knew, fix it. How long were you keeping it secret, unnie? It's just middle school level."
"Tch... Fine, after this, spill Namgung Jin's too. Fair's fair."
"Sure. Nothing else anyway. You're textbook-trained... Oh!"
"What? More? Spill!"
Tricky. Should I?
I hesitated.
"Spit it! I'll fix before matches!"
Her go-ahead came first. Girl talk—fine. I'm a kid; no issues.
"You keep tugging your t-shirt mid-movement. If sweat's bunching it, wear a sports bra."
"..."
"If it's slipping, maybe wrong size..."
A chill wind raised goosebumps. Fall was hitting hard.
"Namgung Jin. Step out. I need to talk to NoName."
Seong Eun-byeol's voice iced over.
"Uh? Uh... hope you two sort it...! Sorry, NoName! Pikachu, chill!"
Namgung Jin bolted.
"NoName."
"Yes?"
"Don't say that in front of others."
Her beet-red face pinched my cheek.
"You permitted it (you allowed it)."
"Yeah! Now I can fix it fastest! Thanks a ton...!"
"Good. It was my top advice today—glad you listened."
Seems minor, but brains have command limits. Irritation signals major distraction. Pros obsess over setups, athletes over routines—for focus. My tip was prime feedback.
She seemed to take it seriously.
"Tch... NoName, give that feedback to everyone else too. Got it?"
"Planned to. Second to sixth grade, all."
Tomorrow, schedules till matches—no free time after tonight. Dawn was far off.
"6, 5, 4, 3, 2. One hour per grade—done before sunrise."
This really felt like night watch. Problem: I wouldn't sleep. But someone had to step up.