269 - Sleeper Camp Dawn: Rooftop Arena Packed from the First Day
The rooftop arena at the hotel had been packed solid since the crack of dawn on the first day of the sleepyheads' training camp.
"Huuuuh..."
NoName's sigh pierced the solemn silence. The elementary division students eyed her moonlit face with wide, terrified stares. She handed out stone tablets one by one, then said firmly,
"Sis wants you all to memorize the entire rotation circuit formula by tomorrow. Don't worry about grasping the moment of inertia concept yet—just commit the magic circle pattern to memory as is."
"B-by tomorrow?"
"Yep. I'll have the fourth-year big sisters check if you've done it right. You know what happens if you don't, right?"
"W-what happens...?"
"School life's gonna get really, very, extremely uncomfortable. Even if you greet the seniors first, they won't acknowledge you. And when tasty sausage-veg stir-fry comes out at lunch? You'll barely snag one single piece of sausage. Actually, you might just get broccoli—no sausage at all."
NoName snorted with a smug huff, as if to say, 'Scary, huh?'
"Eeeek! I'll do it!"
"Yaaawn... Good luck then. Now go fetch the second-years? They're in rooms 711, 713, and 715."
After about an hour of grueling instruction, the third-years finally escaped the brutal downhill slaughter.
In the academy, seniors held absolute power. With students progressing sequentially through foundation-affiliated schools all the way to high school graduation, maintaining good relations was crucial. Once NoName had the sixth-graders firmly in her grip, everything fell into place like clockwork. The sixth-graders bossed the fifth-graders, who in turn hounded the fourth-graders. And now, the kids at the very bottom of the food chain pyramid had just received the baton.
"Huuuwaaah... Why on earth are we up this early?"
"Weird—didn't know the rooftop had an arena. So what's this special training about today?"
Ji-hye and Si-hu chimed in. Unlike Yuna, who naturally slept little, the others kept rubbing their heavy eyelids.
"It's barely 5 a.m.! What the heck is going on? The third-year sisters suddenly barged into our room—I nearly jumped out of my skin!"
I Ha-ru especially grabbed NoName's shoulders, shaking her back and forth as she demanded the reason for the predawn wake-up.
"Your instructor is extremely disappointed in you all."
NoName mumbled with half-closed eyes.
"Wh-what...?"
"Sleep-talking?"
"Everyone, take your positions. Begin."
"Begin...!"
Under her strict father's influence, Ji-hye's body reacted on reflex first, dropping her into a squat on the floor.
"From now on, expel all the aura from your bodies."
The abrupt command made Yuna tilt her head.
"How?"
"Why ask me? Do push-ups, jump rope—it's your body, figure it out yourselves. No time, so you've got five minutes. Go."
NoName perched on a chair in the corner, arms crossed, eyes shut, silently counting down from 300.
"Oh, and the last one to empty out gets an electric steam to wake 'em up."
Simple Cast: Static Induction
Crackle-crackle! Tiny sparks danced around NoName.
"Naw, you're joking... right...?"
"Huh?"
As NoName's dark-circled eyes snapped open, everyone flinched.
"Ow, sting!"
Si-hu hopped in place from the zap, frantically shaking his hand. A yellow mana glow flickered brightly.
"Still think it's a joke? Time's ticking, kids. Better hurry."
They clamped their mouths shut, staring blankly at each other. Meanwhile, the magic circle NoName had cast kept expanding.
'That'll hurt bad if it hits...!'
Si-hu, fresh from tasting the static, slammed to the floor in plank position. Aura enveloped him, making his body instantly heavier. Stimulating his Aura Heart the most inefficient way forced out massive chunks of aura in seconds.
Not to be outdone, the others followed—handstands, push-ups, you name it.
NoName cracked one eye, watching their beading sweat with a satisfied smile.
"Lingering aura just wastes it needlessly when casting spells. But empty it all out, and you'll easily spot your true strong suits. Meaning, even with a pittance of mana, you can cast."
"Ughhh, this sucks!"
"Once you're empty, pull out your best spells and cast 'em on these stone tablets. By the end of today, we'll pick two per kid for the tournament. I Ha-ru, you've got the most left. Want a zap too?"
"Waaah! Never heard of training like this! It's straight-up Spider-Man boot camp!"
"Sparta training, you idiot I Ha-ru...!"
"Pfft, I didn't ask you, Kim Hangeol! Bleh~"
NoName aimed for efficient training over mere effectiveness.
'No point lecturing their weaknesses—they'll fight comfy anyway.'
Habits ingrained don't vanish easily.
'I'd love to flip it all and reteach from scratch...'
Even the prior students had sloppy moves. NoName's mouth itched to correct them, but she held back. Pointing it out would trap teacher and student alike in eternal agony.
Nothing special. I just hated my master. Sometimes loathed him. I thought killing him might end these painful days—but nothing changed. Even if I took a step closer, he'd retreat two. That's my pathetic, trivial reason for leaving my master.
I hereby step off this parallel path of master and disciple. Someday, we'll meet face-to-face, smiling—not from behind. Until then, I'll atone to you my whole life.
NoName bobbed her head, pressing her temples to fend off sleep.
Without her, hero Klaus wouldn't exist. But now, a sudden doubt crept in. Had Klaus truly wanted to be a hero?
"Quit whining for real..."
"...?"
NoName's head thunked to the floor. Soon, steady snores followed.
The kids watched silently, then—like they'd planned—pressed index fingers to lips with mischievous grins.
"Shhh...!"
"Hello, everyone—caster Kim Jae-seong here. Just five days till the Seoul Academy Tournament opening! We're at Alteer Academy in Yongsan-gu, Seoul. Cheers from the hotel students already—it's electric! Passion overflowing! As KBS lead broadcaster today, we'll bring fun interviews from both sides. Announcer Im Se-bin, your thoughts?"
"Dream together! Like Alteer Foundation's slogan this year, I'm tense and excited to meet the kids on that dream stage. Having covered tournaments for five years, I can't wait for this year's highlights."
"Word is all rehearsals are wrapped. We'll start with resolve from academy principals and committee reps, then back to participant interviews!"
Wednesdays were for joint Seferon-Alteer rehearsals—students watching mock bouts. In the tournament's early days, it was pure prep; now, it was prime psychological warfare.
Unlike grade-based 5v5s, rehearsals featured grade reps in 1v1s under simplified rules. With the main event still distant, viewers buzzed uncontrollably.
During dull ads, they flocked to communities.
Still risky tho, gut says.
Rehearsal broadcast featured Shin Jin-ho's interview mid-stream.
"Viewers flooding real-time Qs. Seferon has that superstar, right?"
Shin Jin-ho smirked at the reporter's question—like he'd anticipated it.
"You mean elementary's Nami?"
"Yes! Everyone's dying to know if NoName—NoNami—joins this tournament!"
"Shall I show you?"
"Pardon?"
"Probably in our lounge now. Follow me."
"Yes! Thank you!"
Already enchanting female fans, Shin Jin-ho earned male cheers too.
Hotel basement and main arena linked by long hall. Past chrysanthemum chandeliers, the vibe shifted to drab concrete.
Clunk. Shin Jin-ho bypassed elementary lounge, opening middle school one. So natural, even the reporter missed it.
"Huh? Where'd she go? Hey, kids."
""Hello, President!""
A few middle-schoolers bounced before mirrors—that was it.
"Seen Nami?"
"Nami? Over there!"
His gaze—and camera—followed their point.
"Where?"
Empty space.
"There, there."
"Where's there? Closet?"
They nodded brightly at his question.
The tiny closet—barely fitting four coats—locked tight with outer padlock.
"Nami's inside?"
"Yes."
Cracks formed in Shin Jin-ho's ironclad poker face. He turned slowly, eyeing the reporter.
She stammered, flustered. "N-not... school violence scene, right...?"