Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Limited Lifespan, But It's Fine Because I'm a Genius
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Taehak was different from other educational institutions in that it had a ton of assessments.
Per semester: diagnostic, formative, midterms, finals.
Four evaluations in that order, with the diagnostic purely for gauging levels and not counting toward grades.
So the ones that actually affected scores started with the formative assessments running all week...
Excluding yesterday's individual sparring matches, they were all one-and-done tests, so the pressure wasn't too bad.
Fortunately, I'd notched a win against Cheol-su yesterday.
Anyway, after a quick shower, I cracked open the textbook for the history assessment scheduled that morning.
Suddenly, the mere printed text seemed to strut around like it was something special.
But what could I do about it?
A single gesture, and I'd absorb it all anyway.
I recalled what the assessment questions would be, reached out toward the likely relevant sections, and activated Perusal.
[The Significance of Social, Political, and Economic Changes After the Day of Judgment]
[History of Goryeo and Joseon from an Awakener's Perspective]
[The Reorganization of World Order: The Logical Structure of Colonial Historiography]
...
The plundered information swirled chaotically in my head like it was rebelling, but soon settled into a coherent framework.
This should net me at least an A.
I'd felt it many times before, but damn, Perusal was straight-up cheating. Especially for someone who'd spent their life buried in books.
I grabbed my bag and left the dorm.
As usual, I arrived ten minutes early and quietly slipped into the classroom.
Like yesterday, it was buzzing with way too much energy.
Groups of three or four students chatted excitedly or with dead-serious faces all over the room.
This department really couldn't catch a break for even a day.
What was the commotion about this time?
I tuned into the conversation from some extras whose names I could barely recall.
"Bullshit. A perfect score? No way."
"No, for real. I saw it clear as day this morning."
"Who the hell is Bu Han-si anyway?"
...But it didn't feel like someone else's business.
"Me? Baek Sa-young."
"What? Bu Han-si? Not me, I said. I haven't even signed up yet."
"Look at this guy denying it. Who else in second year could pull a perfect score if not you?"
"Beats me."
"For real, not you?"
"Yeah. I'll prove it soon enough. Come to the training grounds with me."
Yi Yeong-han and Baek Sa-young, plus Joo Ah-rin eavesdropping with half-lidded eyes.
Everyone was buzzing about Bu Han-si...
In other words, the perfect score I'd stumbled into yesterday without much thought.
Talk about awkward.
I pretended not to notice and strolled in casually.
"Hey, talk later."
"...Oh, it's him?"
I could feel the stares.
Spotlights from all directions, pouring in.
Suddenly, Joo Ah-rin's words from yesterday popped into my head.
Public opinion wasn't great.
Seemed like my advances on Cheon Seo-yoon had lit the fuse, branding me a total scumbag.
Hmm.
Curious just how bad my rep had gotten, I perked up my ears.
A flood of colorful labels came pouring in.
Social misfit, drug addict, bastard kicked out by the brew clan, womanizing lech...
But aside from that last one, 'womanizer,' it was all stuff anyone in the know already knew. Nothing new.
It was a bomb that had to explode eventually.
Even in the original story, there was something called the 'Park Ha-yul Scandal'—a similar deal.
Probably right after Ha-yul awakened his Manifestation. When the spotlight hit, someone jealous from the brew clan deliberately leaked it as a plot. That's how I remembered it.
And what happened?
It fizzled out anticlimactically.
Like father, like son—the original Ha-yul didn't give a damn about public opinion, a total lone wolf.
No reaction, so it died down on its own.
Anyway, for the price of mobilizing Cheon Seo-yoon, this fallout was a bargain.
That theory solidified the moment she walked in.
"Hey, you made it? What's with the face?"
"What about it?"
"You're totally wrecked. Drink with you yesterday or what?"
"Wanna die? Drink? It's written exam day. Pulled an all-nighter studying."
Her condition had improved enough to banter back at Dae-ho's jokes.
Had I stared too obviously?
Our eyes met.
"..."
In that brief lock, her gaze—still sharp and icy with hostility—held steady.
"Yeah, better than a walking corpse."
Confirming the embers still burned, I turned away first.
Headed to the back seat that was basically my reserved spot now.
The snide mutters shifted right back to praise for someone else.
"Not Baek Sa-young? Then who?"
"Top-tier mage student, apparently. Someone already analyzed it on the forums. Only possible if you one-shot from the starting point."
"Come on, that make sense? At least 300 meters—how do you even hit that?"
The situation was subtly hilarious, and a snort slipped out before I could stop it.
* * *
Taehak's goal was to cultivate Awakeners balanced in intellect, virtue, and body.
The philosophy: lopsided growth could never be complete. They aimed for Guans who embodied all three, not just Lus.
Theory and liberal arts were never neglected.
Professor Cha Myeong-hwan had devoted his life to that ideal as an educator.
But when had it started?
When did Taehak students—meant to be paragons of well-rounded growth—turn into muscle-headed idiots obsessed with raw power...?
"Urgh."
Professor Cha Myeong-hwan, surveying the classroom with a displeased glare, finally let out a groan.
The exam had barely started ten minutes ago.
Even without the scratching pencils filling the air, the scene was dismal enough.
Kids sighing like the ground was caving in.
Ruffling their hair and muttering curses.
Seriously?
Some had flat-out given up, faces planted on desks.
And yet, come practicals like field training, they'd charge in with fire in their eyes.
Not that he meant to downplay the body's importance.
Taehak's essence was the cradle of demon slayers.
No matter how you sliced it, martial prowess was the foundation, the root.
But there were limits.
At least master the basics.
Did these fools even know that a nation forgetting its history has no future?
"Tsk tsk."
A lamentable state. Shadows deepened on the old professor's face, nearing retirement.
He planned to complain to the dean after grading.
Thud. Thud.
Then, clear footsteps echoed from somewhere.
Wondering what was up, he turned to see a kid from the back row—scribbling away—boldly grab his test paper and stride forward.
He slapped it down for submission, bowed curtly, and headed for the door.
...
Now we had mid-test quitters?
"What do you think you're doing, young man?"
Cha Myeong-hwan was so flabbergasted he forgot to speak for a moment, then raised his voice.
The response was a spectacle.
"Finished it all and heading home?"
Finished?
A Taehak-caliber test—hand-picked and refined by the proctor—in just ten minutes?
"Good grief."
Cha Myeong-hwan tamped down his anger and spoke.
"You sure you really finished it all?"
"Yes."
"Then at least an A, I'd say. Right?"
The punk paused, then cautiously replied.
"If I didn't miss anything, yeah, around there?"
"Around there?"
"Yeah, not sure about A+, but I wrote down everything I know."
"Heh heh."
What gall.
Cha Myeong-hwan warned him.
"You'll have to stand by that claim."
"I gave it my all—no regrets."
The kid bowed again and walked off.
Polite enough, easing the door open softly, then closing it the same way.
"End times, I tell you."
Cha Myeong-hwan's face went slack, but soon irritation flared. He snatched the answer sheet.
Eyes blazing, ready to penalize the insolence, he scanned the responses.
But.
"What in the..."
His stern expression twisted into shock.
Piercing insight into the proctor's intent. Flawless answers.
As if the professor's own thoughts had leaped onto the page—no flaws whatsoever.
Cha Myeong-hwan frantically flipped back to check the name at the top.
* * *
Right after the written exam ended, Joo Ah-rin grabbed Cheon Seo-yoon's arm.
"No appetite, I said."
"Then cafeteria food at least."
"Nooo—I'll throw up if I eat."
"Better than starving, no?"
Seeing Cheon Seo-yoon's gaunt face made her uneasy.
"Ugh, fine."
"Come on while I'm asking nicely. I'm busy too."
Joo Ah-rin sighed shallowly and led the way.
A deeper sigh and shuffling steps followed.
"..."
The two walked to the cafeteria in awkward silence.
When had things turned like this?
Joo Ah-rin suddenly felt an odd disconnect with her own changed attitude.
Not long ago, her relationship with Cheon Seo-yoon had been more rival than friend.
At least for her—maybe not for Seo-yoon.
Inevitably compared, always trailing just a bit in scores.
The subtle friction always fell on the one behind, so Joo Ah-rin had endured it, over and over.
But starting from the Flag Capture War? Or after the auction house incident?
When that always-annoyingly vibrant back view started shrinking, a strange emotion welled up.
Pity? Belated friendship?
Vague, hard to pin down—but one thing was crystal clear.
She couldn't ignore Cheon Seo-yoon's pain anymore.
Beating a broken version would just feel shameful.
"...Why aren't you asking more?"
Cheon Seo-yoon broke the awkwardness first, but Joo Ah-rin didn't turn.
"You were curious about that guy and the necklace..."
"Me?"
Finally stopping, Joo Ah-rin half-turned, tone no different from usual.
"Not anymore. More curious what the cafeteria menu is today."
"Wha..."
Cheon Seo-yoon blinked in confusion, and Joo Ah-rin grinned.
Better than the mopey face she'd seen too much lately.
"Come on. I'm hungry."
Joo Ah-rin clutched her stomach dramatically and kept walking.
"Hey, that's not the cafeteria."
"..."
"You've never eaten there, have you?"
She halted.
...Come to think of it, she really hadn't.