Extracurricular Mayhem
Fortunately, nothing out of the ordinary happened after that.
Had my all-out flattery operation, which had lasted nearly an hour, actually worked?
Aside from a brief scolding, Seoa didn't say much else, either.
Of course, there was the minor issue that I'd gone and surrendered my entire weekend to her.
Still, considering everything, I got off easy.
Between losing my job without so much as a consultation and being hounded by reporters, I could hardly complain about the price — if anything, it was cheap.
It had all started when someone dug up the fact that Seoa had abruptly submitted her resignation shortly before the incident, and the media outlets came swarming in droves.
To me, she was still a hopeless disciple, but it was a striking reminder that to everyone else, she was the face of the current generation of A+ rank hunters.
The silver lining, I suppose, was that all the noise drowned out any talk of her participating in my experiment.
It was a shame, admittedly, that the story of her stopping a guild's atrocities couldn't be made public.
But even so, people evaluated her resolve — her willingness to turn her back on the banner of one of Korea's Top 3 guilds — and that counted for something.
Some rumors even went so far as to suggest that the 'Man in the Gas Mask' who had recently toppled a guild might have been Shin Seoa all along, leaking the guild's dirty secrets.
Was that half right, or half wrong?
Either way, it was nothing more than idle gossip.
Looking at how Seoa had entered the industry only after graduating high school, few people believed she had hunter connections powerful enough to match her own ability.
Pure conspiracy theory, plain and simple.
Besides, the voices lamenting her departure would die down soon enough, once the guild fully exposed what it had done to her.
And after that, the praise would come flooding in — for how she'd struggled through it all alone, even with her family's lives on the line.
And so, another week passed.
But.
What now?
I'd barely gotten to work when a bolt from the blue came crashing down on me.
Swallowing the thought that had risen unbidden, I examined the handout in my grip.
— CLUB ENROLLMENT NOTICE —
Those words sat at the very top of the sheet.
Clubs.
Well, wasn't that a lovely little word.
As I've said more than once, the foremost thing the Hunter Academy demanded of its students was skill as a hunter.
But what it prized even more highly than that was the students' mental health.
However talented a hunter might be, a hunter whose mind was unraveling could not, in principle, be deployed to the front lines.
No — if anything, the stronger the hunter, the stricter the standard they were held to.
Because the day one of them snapped and went on a rampage, the damage would be apocalyptic.
Which was why the Academy, too, kept a vigilant eye on its students' mental well-being.
Just like at any ordinary high school, the mandatory club hours were part of exactly that effort.
The stated hope, apparently, was that treasured experiences gathered during school days would become a spiritual pillar supporting hunters' hearts.
It was armchair theorizing — but like all armchair theorizing, the intent was genuinely good.
The problem was that for a high school student, club life was, in practice, little more than study hall.
No, honestly, I didn't know that either. I looked it up, and that's what it said.
It felt like watching some middle-schooler's wistful, rose-tinted dream of high school crumble into dust.
Damn it. Right up until I came here, I'd thought high school would be something different.
I even used to believe that high school girls were creatures contractually obligated to eat parfait after class.
Living with them quickly proved that one wrong, too.
Well, Hayeon at least was noticeably more diligent than Seoa.
Anyway.
But Choi Seungjun had finally begun scheming to put this surplus time to use.
In other words, it was part of the early-experience program I'd proposed a while back.
To wit: the weapons-technique club run by Mr. Jung Ilhyun, whom Choi Seungjun had successfully recruited.
The ranged combat club newly opened with Seoa as its instructor.
And last but not least, the support-ability study club run by one Tia Bint Rahman Bin Abdullah Muhammad, Esq., a Middle Eastern immigrant.
Wow……
Reading down the list of names, that sound just slipped out of me.
Never mind the rest — what on earth was a Tia Bint Rahman Bin Abdullah Muhammad?
Fine, she was from the Middle East, but surely a slightly more functional alias was available.
In my opinion, that woman had completely lost her mind.
At the very least, one thing was certain: she had no intention whatsoever of living a discreet school life.
What a terrifying woman.
Shaking my head, I moved on to the next line of the handout.
Let's see.
So, as of right now, those three were the only clubs they could offer — plus, on top of that, the advanced classes run by each homeroom teacher.
And frankly, the popularity gap was annihilating.
Or rather — not a shame, but simply inevitable. Why on earth would anyone carve out club hours to sit through the same lessons they already attended every day?
Sure, it would help somewhat, but not enough to give up the chance to experience something entirely new.
Besides, remedial instruction was something you could seek out separately after class anyway.
Above all, the guest lineup was simply too intense.
The father of Jung Pilyeon — arguably the most famous name among his own classmates — and a current hunter serving as a weapons-technique instructor.
Hunter Shin Seoa, quite literally the leading star of the next hunter generation.
And on top of that, a Middle Eastern immigrant?
How could anyone resist?
Even if I'd been a student, I would have joined literally any other club without hesitation.
Especially the last one.
Different reasons, granted, but characters that intense were rare.
Thanks to all this, the homeroom teachers had come to regard this round of club hours as, essentially, a vacation.
And yet.
Hmm.
I was the exception.
Because, small as the number was — four — students had signed up for my class.
Though honestly, one glance at the lineup told me exactly why.
Lee Yeeun, little sister of Lee Joongoo, humanity's strongest hunter.
Ryu Jihee, the half-blood girl and former Honinhoe executive.
Hwang Yoonha, who'd once been kidnapped in the incident connected to me.
And finally, Ja Hayeon — the very person that faction was openly targeting.
No matter which way you sliced it, these four had not come to apply for a club……
That's right, kids. At last, a real, honest-to-goodness club hour.
Yaaay! Applause! Applause!! Woooo!!
Woo-chan! Woo-chan!!
Watching Yoonha break into a rousing round of applause while Jihee shrieked along beside her was enough to give me a headache I hadn't had a minute ago.
Truth be told, even the comparatively reserved Yeeun and Hayeon didn't have remotely calm looks in their eyes.
Hey, I was planning to explain things eventually, you know?
Maybe I should even be grateful for the chance to go over it separately.
This is exhausting……
Still, exhausting was exhausting.
In the end, standing before the podium, I said it in a sour voice.
"Actually, are you all sure about this? I was thinking you might use this opportunity to try some other clubs instead. It might be more useful for you."
"Oh, really~?"
The one to shut me down head-on, as expected, was Ryu Jihee.
Over the curve of her short, smiling glance, a pomegranate-red gaze seemed to say everything.
Do you honestly mean that, Teacher? You know what I am, don't you?
"No — you're the exception. An exception, but……"
Hmm.
"Yeeun, wouldn't Seoa's class suit you better?"
After a moment's deliberation, I ultimately caved and folded my tail.
Cornered like this, I'd go with Lee Yeeun.
Yeeun, however, was no pushover of a student either.
"Teacher?"
"Yes, that's right."
"It's been less than a month since I changed how I use my ability."
"Even so, it might help, wouldn't it?"
"Besides, I don't know yet which combat style fits me, do I? What if I joined that club and the style turned out to be wrong for me?"
"You can always switch clubs later, you know."
"Right. So for now, I'll take yours. That's fine, isn't it?"
"No, when you put it like that, then sure, but—"
"Oh? Is it not allowed?"
……When you ask it that way, what can I possibly say.
Anyone else, maybe — but Yeeun had changed her fighting style almost entirely because of me.
A student who'd reworked her entire approach on my word, handed off to different teachers at this stage?
However I dressed it up, there'd be no escaping the accusation of irresponsibility. No — that wouldn't be irresponsibility, it would just be shameless.
Swish. Quietly, I turned my gaze away from Yeeun as her golden hair slid off her shoulder. What they call a strategic retreat.
Let's see. Next target?
Not Ryu Jihee, not Lee Yeeun.
"Yoonha, what about you?"
"Ssaem, you already know my situation."
Tsk.
Ah, damn it all, truly.
But no matter how I felt, when someone cited their livelihood as a reason, I couldn't exactly argue.
Which meant the last person I could turn to was Hayeon.
"Hayeon, you know how I feel, right? Help your master out here……!!"
Had my desperate plea reached her?
Before long, Hayeon broke into a smile, like a flower bud bursting into full bloom.
"I-I don't want to take the other teachers' classes."
"Wh— oh. Uh. So, then—"
And with that, I was refused in a single stroke.
"Well. Yes. Right. If you don't want to, there's nothing I can do about it."
It made sense — Hayeon had trained under my methods from the very beginning, so mixing in a different approach now would only throw her off.
Didn't know she could shut it down that decisively, though.
If any of the other teachers heard that, I wondered if they'd sink into despair.
From where I stood, sampling different classes would help her too.
But the atmosphere left absolutely no room for rebuttal.
And honestly, I did feel a bit guilty.
The real problem, though—
I'm screwed.
—was that I hadn't prepared a single lesson for club hours.
Damn it all, I was supposed to get a break too.
Look, I'm a middle school graduate.
Industry knowledge, I had some confidence in — and I'd taught Seoa before, so I could scrape by in a lesson or two.
But that was the absolute extent of it.
I'd never studied pedagogy systematic enough to improvise a dozen different lesson plans on the fly.
Frankly, just keeping the regular classes running was all I could manage — don't go expecting more from me, thanks very much~
The only teaching references I had were my own middle school teachers.
I was already fumbling my way through mistake after mistake as it was, and now they wanted additional lessons on top of that?
Of course my mood soured.
The only saving grace was that the industry hadn't established a single coherent theory of education — because if it had, I'd have been fired long ago without anyone batting an eye.
So. What to do?
I could explain my situation any number of times, but none of the reasons my students had given were baseless.
Which left me with one conclusion: I'd just have to wring something out of my brain.
"Then, shall we go around and each present what kind of class you'd like to take?"
First, stall with presentations.
The legendary weapon of any teacher who can't plan a lesson on the spot.
"I want to prioritize learning how to apply my ability."
Made sense for Yeeun. "And you, Jihee?"
"Shoring up my weaknesses? I trust you know what I mean, Teacher~"
……Fair enough, that might genuinely be a necessary class for you. Right, let's see. Yoonha?
"Uh, how about monster studies? Pretty useful class for real life, ain't it?"
Can't argue with that. Knowledge matters. "And finally — Hayeon?"
"I think an overall improvement in skill is needed."
Couldn't argue with that either.
Unfortunately, it helped absolutely nothing this time.
Well, of course — four students, four entirely different needs. I couldn't blame them.
But seriously, this was the best they could do?
Watching those girls boast the synchronization of a cursed coven, it dawned on me that none of them had the slightest intention of deferring to anyone else's opinion.
And here I'd planned to center the lessons around what the kids actually wanted. Fat chance, apparently.
Are they deliberately messing with me, or what?
It got to the point where the thought crossed my mind. They clearly didn't dislike each other — nothing so visible as that — so why couldn't their opinions align on anything?
Well then. How to handle this?
If I had no better means, I could rotate through the four lessons just mentioned every session, or drag forward material planned for the second semester and run it in circles.
But that was the last resort. Honestly, I didn't want to do it.
Since it had come to this, it'd be better for everyone if they each got something out of it.
I guess it comes back to that, doesn't it?
Tailored instruction.
That was all I could come up with at the moment.
Foundational training, paired with guided exercises to help each student build up the combat style best suited to them.
Frankly speaking, it was a terrible fit for the Academy's mass-education model, where one teacher has to instruct dozens.
Less a classroom method than a private tutoring method, wouldn't you say?
In fact, I'd half given up on it myself.
Part of why I'd joined the Academy in the first place was to establish a system of education applicable to hunters.
In that sense, tailored instruction sat in almost perfect opposition to my current teaching approach.
My method demanded an enormous reservoir of knowledge from me personally, up front — but once enough data accumulated, anyone could teach with it.
This, by contrast, depended entirely on the individual teacher's ability.
Well, it'll be fine.
Having thought it through that far, I arrived at a conclusion of who cares.
That was what club hours were for, after all.
Whether this teaching method worked or didn't wasn't my call to make — that was a problem for the future hunter-education scholars to agonize over.
Besides, this wasn't even a regular class. It was a club activity.
Above all, the results were guaranteed.
In any case — if a student acquired techniques suited to them, improvement would follow naturally.
And this happened to be a field where I had real confidence.
Mana sensitivity.
I was the one applying an ability with no direct combat value — not to magic, but to close-quarters blade work.
These days I'd managed to build a reasonably stable combat style, but heaven only knew how much trial and error it had taken to get here.
Put that experience to use, and I was certain I could teach any combat style.
The reason I'd gone around recruiting other teachers in the first place was simply that I hadn't had the hours to cover everything myself.
Facing a handful of students in one club, though? I had time to spare.
"Alright! From next session, we'll be running club lessons properly too — so all of you come prepared!"
Once the decision was made, there was no reason to hesitate.
Leaving the conveniently ringing class bell behind us, I walked out of the classroom allotted to our club.
I even had a rough idea of what to do going forward.
And so.
Third week of May.
The curtain rose once more on Academy life.