The Transfer Student
Before Han Yurin ever appeared at Baekya Academy.
Along a tranquil night street, wrapped within the quiet fold of a Repelling Barrier, stood an unexpected onlooker.
“Meow. Meow.”
“Eat up, now.”
A young woman dressed in an anachronistic Victorian maid uniform was scattering food for a cluster of stray cats. At a glance, she seemed barely twenty years old. Porcelain skin framed by neatly bound hair; a serene expression paired with an unshakeable, poised posture. She gently caressed the head of one feline, an effortless elegance seeping from the small gesture that spoke volumes of her consummate training as a personal domestic.
“Come, eat quickly. And then you will tell me what you saw.”
Crunch, crunch.
The cats remained utterly absorbed in filling their bellies.
Chime.
A crisp tone chimed from the smartphone tucked within her bodice. She possessed very few contacts. At this ungodly hour, there was only one person who would reach out.
“My, it appears the young mistress has contacted me.”
The very culprit who had dispatched her into the nocturnal streets in the first place. The young lady she served was both a local dignitary and the head of the prestigious Lee Family, someone whose side Cecil had guarded ever since childhood. In public spheres like the academy, she merely monitored things from a discreet distance, but within the manor, she attended to the young lady's every need. In essence, an exclusive personal secretary—though the reality ran far deeper, not that such distinctions mattered much now.
"...How did the matter conclude?"
A crystal-clear, ethereal voice resonated from the speaker. The timbre was exquisitely delicate, evoking the image of a solitary moon suspended in the night sky. Not like the scattered stars, but a distant, aristocratic moonlight peering down upon the mortal plane below. Perhaps it was the witching hour playing tricks on her, but Cecil muttered to herself that she was succumbing to late-night sentimentality without having touched a drop of liquor.
Her mistress had been in an exceptionally foul mood lately. It was best to report swiftly.
Synthesizing the information gleaned from the cats who had observed the night play, the maid spoke evenly.
“The target has been eradicated. Fortunately, the young master does not appear to bear any grave wounds. However... it seems he has already begun to show signs of his blood awakening.”
Originally, Cecil’s role was merely to clean up the aftermath once the curtain fell: hunt down the succubus once it finished its feast, and look after the unconscious young master. Those had been the young mistress’s explicit instructions. Never had Cecil anticipated things spiraling in such a direction.
"Why... why did it have to happen like that? It would have been far better if he had simply succumbed."
Even if one fell prey to a succubus, the consequence amounted to a hospital stay of a few months at worst. In the span of a lifetime, a span both long and short—a damage well within tolerable limits. It was infinitely preferable to him becoming entangled in the Hidden World.
And now, for his dormant blood to awaken! Should he truly fall from grace, the blame would rest entirely upon her shoulders. The absolute worst-case scenario. She had resolved never to let this happen, yet selfish greed had sprouted in her heart regardless. At least, that was what the young mistress believed.
"...It can still be undone. For now, his blood has only stirred involuntarily after being charmed. He was a Mundane Human to begin with."
The faint sound of Gayeon biting her lip filtered through the line. Cecil closed her eyes in silence. Turning a blind eye to a master’s momentary lapse in composure was also part of a seasoned maid’s duty.
"And what of the sorcerer who orchestrated this incident? Have you uncovered anything?"
Calling the succubus that ambushed Ha Seojin a true demon was somewhat of a misnomer. It was fundamentally an apparition cultivated from rumors—a malicious craft that harvested Existence Power generated by deliberately whispered urban legends, using it to manifest phenomena into physical reality. Driven by the narrative woven for them, such entities seek out the weak-willed, flatter them, and ultimately drain their Existence Power dry.
It belonged strictly to the domain of primal instinct. It was only natural for a newly formed life to crave sustenance; no living thing survives without feeding. Nor could one blame the victims for falling into the trap. Vulnerable mental states made them easy marks, especially when the apparition manifested in the exact likeness of their idealized woman.
Truthfully, that detail sat rather poorly with the young mistress. Han Yurin’s appearance had deviated wildly from what Gayeon had imagined. Even harboring such thoughts felt like a petty sin, prompting the heiress to release a faint sigh. Ever since the Great Disaster shattered the regional balance a decade ago, all manner of half-baked vermin had been creeping into their territory. Weeds of unrest were best uprooted early.
“No. Not yet.”
Regrettably, there were no viable leads. This particular rat was exceptionally meticulous; even setting the cats upon the prowl yielded not a shred of evidence.
“Perhaps it would be prudent to investigate those urban rumors one by one first.”
"Very well. Cecil, I place my trust in you."
A long road lay ahead. Cecil tidied up her surroundings and departed the alleyway to prepare the young mistress’s morning tea.
At the teacher’s podium stood a gyaru, beaming ear to ear.
Unlike before, she was dressed in the official uniform of Baekya Academy. She really was a transfer student after all. The homeroom teacher for Class 1-A was bustling about, giving her a formal introduction, but honestly, none of the words registered in my ears. Chronic sleep deprivation had scrambled my brain, and every shred of my conscious attention had been pinned on Han Yurin from the moment she walked in.
Catching my stare, Yurin flashed me an affectionate, crescent-eyed smile. That single look was enough to whip the boys in the classroom into an absolute frenzy.
“Oooooh—!”
Involuntary cheers rippled through the rows, mirrored instantly by the stinging glares shot from the female students. What on earth was I supposed to feel right now? The girl I thought had died had resurrected in under twenty-four hours. And after sharing such a poignant, tearful farewell kiss, no less! I had practically wept my heart out. Well, okay, I didn't actually cry, but still.
Whatever. What’s good is good. No need to overcomplicate things. Han Yurin was back among the living, and that alone was plenty.
“Quiet down, everyone. Let’s conclude with a brief self-introduction from our transfer student.”
As the teacher settled the rowdy classroom, every eye locked onto Yurin. She paused for a heartbeat before chiming in with vibrant energy.
“Hey everyone! My name is Han Yurin! Treat me well, okay~?”
Short, sweet, and punctuated with double peace signs. A textbook gyaru through and through. Gotta admit, seeing her like that was pretty great.
“Alright, Yurin, go take that empty seat by the window over there.”
The only vacant desk left in the classroom happened to be the one right beside mine. Lee Hyunwoo in front of me, Han Yurin to my side... From an outside perspective, we looked like an irredeemable gang of delinquents. We were technically adults now, so no one was going to lecture us about it, but hoping to build a normal circle of friends here was pretty much dead in the water. Yurin checked the desk’s location and beamed into an enormous grin.
Man. That's genuinely hazardous to my heart.
“Teacher.”
Right then, a cool voice cut through the air, pouring ice water over the lingering excitement.
“If I recall correctly, there were no scheduled transfer students on the roster.”
The one raising the objection was Lee Gayeon. Neither her expression nor her tone wavered by a millimeter, making it impossible to read what she was thinking. My head had cooled down somewhat, but I really didn't want to dwell on thoughts of Gayeon if I could avoid it. What was she trying to pull all of a sudden? Gayeon wasn’t the type to squander energy on pointless disputes. Normally, she would let minor administrative hiccups slide; picking a fight over this was an uncharacteristic waste of her time.
“Is that so? Hmm... now how did that happen again...?”
The teacher merely tilted her head in utter bewilderment, looking completely at a loss.
A few moments passed.
Before anyone knew it, the entire classroom was sweating bullets, nervously gauging Gayeon’s mood. It felt like standing dead center in a frozen lake.
“My apologies. I must have been mistaken.”
Gayeon finally conceded, lowering her gaze. Only then did a collective sigh of relief sweep through the room. Seriously, what was her deal?
“Then we’re all done talking, right?”
Yurin, completely indifferent to the miniature standoff, skipped merrily toward her seat. Her cheerful humming was surprisingly pleasant to listen to.
“Heeey~ Hehe, right next to each other!”
“Aren’t you a little too excited?”
Her energy was overwhelming. It was practically draining the soul out of me. Did she eat something bad? Or did her brain get scrambled during the resurrection process? Then again, I wasn't even sure if she had truly died in the first place.
“What gives, Ha Seojin? You already know the new transfer student?”
Lee Hyunwoo twisted around from the seat ahead, barging into the conversation.
“Yup! Seojin is my most precious friend!”
“Already on a first-name basis...?”
Yurin answered with proud delight, while Hyunwoo’s face turned into a sheer masterpiece of bewilderment. His jaw hung slack with no sign of closing, his mind clearly running wild with bizarre theories. If competitive facial acting were a sport, he’d take home the gold medal.
“Wait. Then was that rumor actually true?”
“What rumor?”
“Hey, Seojin. If I bawl my eyes out like a baby, will a gorgeous girl spawn out of thin air for me too?”
Hyunwoo asked with absolute deadpan gravity. Setting a moody, intense atmosphere with a mug like his was just plain terrifying; normal girls would run for the hills.
“You’re way nicer than you look!”
Naturally, Yurin didn’t care about his menacing mug at all. Hearing herself called gorgeous seemed to hit all the right notes. What a pair of matching idiots.
The morning period slipped by in a flash.
Ding-dong-dang—
The chime rang out, announcing the end of first period.
“Han Yurin, follow me.”
“Whoa, what's this? Are you two legit dating?”
Hyunwoo smirked slyly. As much as I wanted to ride the wave of 'what’s good is good,' setting the record straight was vital. I had a mountain of personal questions for her anyway. I planted a swift knuckle on Hyunwoo’s skull, grabbed Yurin’s hand, and pulled her out into the hallway.
With every step I took, I could swear Lee Gayeon’s chilling gaze was burning a hole right through my back.