71 - Performance Evaluation
"You can use magic in a game? That's pretty wild."
"Yeah... it does seem like it'd help with studying magic."
"We have to study in games too? Ugh, no way I'm playing something like that... Anyway, I'm heading to my class. See you at lunch."
"Yesss, sleepyhead Ji-hye!"
"I'm not a sleepyhead!"
Ji-hye headed off to Class B first, while Seri, Yuna, and I went into Class A. We'd walked slower than usual, so we ended up quite a bit late for morning homeroom.
My desk mate, Yoon Si-hu, was already there, quietly reading his book. He was the picture of a model student. Even when I sat down, he didn't glance my way. Well, everyone has their own people they want to get close to—no need to force it.
But the moment he spotted Yuna following behind me, his eyes subtly lifted from the page.
"Hey, Seo Yu-na!"
"Huh? What?"
"You okay?"
"Out of nowhere? Yeah, I'm fine."
"Good. That's a relief."
Yuna brushed it off casually, and Si-hu awkwardly sat back down, looking relieved. It was painfully awkward just listening to them. If it's that weird, why even start talking?
Jackie Teacher did a quick roll call and morning announcements, then we had a short break before first period.
"But is that thing super hard?"
Yuna poked my back from behind as she asked.
"Yeah, 'cause I can't just get strong on my own. It seems to emphasize teamwork at its core."
"Teamwork?"
"Putting our strengths together."
"Ooh... got it. So you're helping her out?"
"Guess so. If we don't get stronger, we'll just die."
It was Nightmare difficulty anyway, so it would've been years too early for Yuna—but she was hooked on the game's story since I was playing it.
"Oh crap, gotta grab the textbook for first period!"
Yuna belatedly remembered and dashed to her locker. As I went to slide my chair forward, Si-hu unnaturally turned his head the other way.
"Were you listening to us?"
"N-no? I wasn't listening at all?"
"Liar, you heard everything."
"I didn't!"
"Why get mad? You're flustered."
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that..."
"Wait... you don't...?"
Considering he was the only one in class who looked out for Seo Yu-na like that—and how he never paid this much attention to anyone else—my guess felt spot on.
"You like Seo Yu-na, don't you?"
"Wha—no way?!"
Look at him licking his dry lips. Nailed it. He slammed the desk in panic, clearly hit the mark. At his age, it might not be romantic yet, but he definitely had some friendly crush going. People who don't talk much tend to read emotions well—and I was exactly that type.
Si-hu denied it vehemently, but in my mind, his arrow was already pointed straight at Yuna.
Speaking of which, I had something to ask him—and it just hit me now.
"Yoon Si-hu, do you go to an academy?"
"Wh-what do you want with my academy?"
Petty, not telling me? Fine.
"Then I'll go blab everywhere that you like Yuna."
"No, seriously! I go to... taekwondo academy."
"Perfect timing. Know what they teach there?"
"Taekwondo, duh? What, you think they teach English?"
"Huh? Yeah, fair enough..."
It was logical, but I remembered some places teaching all sorts of stuff.
"Do they ever teach dagger techniques? Like knife fighting."
"Daggers? What for...?"
"Got a friend who needs to learn. Guess I'll have to find a dojo instead."
"Anyway, I don't know! Stop asking! And whatever you're up to, don't drag Yuna into it."
"Look at you, already protective of your future girlfriend."
"@%##@ @!^@##!"
Si-hu's little outburst died down once Yuna returned to her seat. First period was "Magic Injection." Last year's subject had been "Magic Recording," so kids shortened it to "Magi"—or just "Majoo" time. How'd they name it so half-assedly?
I recalled thinking the first-grade textbooks titled Fall and Winter were misprints.
But Magic Injection was arguably the most crucial subject in Seferon Academy's second-year curriculum. Two periods every single day proved it.
"Class begins! Everyone turn to page 23."
Jackie Teacher's clear voice rang out. Pages rustled everywhere.
True to magic powerhouse Korea, the textbooks were systematic. No dry theory dumps—instead, each chapter kicked off with hands-on activities to spark interest. For Light magic, kids compared low-mana vs. high-mana injections to discover differences themselves. Once they grasped the theory, a counterexample experiment twisted their brains.
Light magic was intuitive: little mana, dim light; lots of mana, bright flood. But for every linear spell, there's a nonlinear one. Some peak at specific points. Vector spells—like my go-to polar coordinate grant—embody this. Centering on the caster, it transforms a target's physics to a preset value. Dumping more mana isn't always better.
Mana-efficiency graphs for vectors usually curve upward like convex quadratics. No way they'd make elementary kids plot that, though—just basic mana injection patterns on transmutation circles.
"I'll explain your first Magic Injection performance evaluation. Listen up!"
After about 30 minutes of lesson, Jackie Teacher stood at the board for the big reveal. Even prankster Seri got serious now.
"It'll be pairs, two per group. Once you're teamed up, I'll give each pair five model transmutation circles. Forgot how they work? Here's a demo."
Palm-sized models emerged from a cubic box. She held one high for all to see, an empty box dangling from her other hand.
"Press the safety button in the center. Position the box lid to face the circle properly. Then flow mana anywhere on it."
Mana pooled below. The circle hummed and glowed. Beep— A fun sound effect echoed from the box.
She reminded us to press the center button after each use, then showed us the box.
8.6
"See this number? It shows casting efficiency, from 0 to 10. What if it's 0 or 1?"
"The spell didn't cast right!"
"Wrong mana injection!"
"Exactly. Could be failed cast or bad injection. Starting next class, you'll experiment with your five models, varying mana inputs."
She packed the set away, opened the box, and unpacked identical ones onto her desk.
"From today till Friday, 20 minutes daily. Class A, inject mana with your partner and discuss each circle's traits. Friday's last period, submit a written report on a sheet I'll hand out later—summarize your findings."
Kids exchanged loaded glances. Twenty minutes a day eating up boring magic class? Sweet. But the dread of "how hard is this?" tempered any cheers.
I pondered the models. Carefully designed to prevent outsourcing—no spell names given, just circles to thwart Google. Results shown only as light brightness, shapes unlike real ones. And reports with no "right" answer. Kids bad at writing were doomed. Without rubrics, this age group panics. Curious how they'd cope.
"Questions on the eval?"
"Teacher! What do we write?"
"Textbook stuff! 'Low center mana = low efficiency,' or 'High mana on both sides = better.' We've practiced it. Or analyze runes/formulas! Compare circles: this rune does X, that formula Y. Freeform. Got it?"
"Yeees..."
"Discussions are duo-only, graded solely on reports. Work hard!"
Tough. Trial-and-error to decode circles. Not needing exacts, but prep for dispel magic—counter-spells. Practical and intriguing.
Kids looked like blind men groping an elephant already. But after days of fiddling, they'd get the gist. At least the elephant wouldn't sue for harassment.