The Academy's Savior
The Korea-Japan Academy Exchange Tournament stretched across two months and was split into three rounds.
The first round would take place on the third day after our arrival at Japan’s Arashi Academy.
A full month later came the second round.
Then, one week before we left Arashi Academy for good, the third and final round.
In short, it was a best-of-three. Officially it was only an “exchange,” so victory carried no formal weight. Unofficially, everyone treated it as a full-blown Korea-versus-Japan match. Both countries had plenty of old scores to settle, after all.
With one day left until the first round, Yun Huijeong asked us:
“Who wants to compete in the first exchange match?”
The first round included both team and individual events. Twelve slots. Not every one of the twenty of us needed to step up.
Most of the students shot their hands into the air. I didn’t. From the start, competing in the exchange matches had never been my goal.
“Yujin, not interested in the first round?”
“Teacher, I’ll sit out until the third.”
“Won’t you reconsider? There’s a lot you could learn from these matches.”
Yun Huijeong gave me a pleading look. In Korea there was an old saying: no matter what it was, you had to beat Japan. If Maruhan lost the exchange, the teacher in charge—Yun Huijeong—would catch hell for it. From her perspective, having the top-ranked first-year walk out and guarantee a win was the safest play.
I shook my head without hesitation.
“My condition’s been off lately. Haven’t been sleeping well.”
Two women flinched hard at those words. Seong Ha-ri and Choi Dayeon—the two who’d spent last night tangled up with me.
“Teacher Yun, if Yujin’s not feeling well, let him rest. Even without him, Maruhan’s students are strong.”
Seong Ha-ri stepped in.
“Teacher, I admit Seong Yujin is strong. But we’re not weak either. We can win the exchange without him.”
Choi Dayeon piled on. The rest of the students nodded along. Every one of them ranked inside the top ten of their year; their confidence was sky-high.
Confidence and reality are two different things. It won’t be nearly as easy as they think.
Maruhan Academy of Korea and Arashi Academy of Japan sat at roughly the same level. Worldwide, the average quality of hero academies didn’t vary that much.
Except for me, of course.
After an hour of discussion, the roster for the first exchange match was locked in.
For the duration of the exchange, Maruhan students would follow Arashi Academy’s curriculum.
The classes themselves felt familiar. The atmosphere in the rooms was familiar too. The Arashi students, though, seemed oddly excited—and it had nothing to do with the tournament.
Just like the original story.
Japanese schools had their own culture.
The cultural festival.
Korea had them as well, but Japan’s were on another level entirely. A Japanese cultural festival was closer to a full-blown local festival hosted by the school.
And Arashi Academy’s? It was big enough to get national television coverage. The students’ pride matched that scale.
Even though more than a month remained until the festival, the whole academy was already buzzing with preparations.
I walked the corridor beside Choi Dayeon. As always, she wore that haughty expression, matching my pace.
I muttered just loud enough for her alone to hear.
“Ah, I want to fuck.”
“Pffft…! Wh-what the hell are you saying all of a sudden?!”
Her reaction was priceless. She trembled, desperately fighting back laughter. A cheap sex joke, yet it hit her like a comedy button.
Choi Dayeon: It’s not even that funny, so why am I laughing? I have to hold it in.
“Sex.”
“Khup!”
“Sex-sex.”
“Pfffuuuh.”
Choi Dayeon clamped both hands over her mouth. The eyes above her fingers shook violently.
I considered teasing her a few more times, but we’d reached our destination, so I let it go.
Class 1-4.
For the rest of our stay at Arashi Academy, Choi Dayeon and I would take classes and live as members of first-year Class 4.
I opened the front door and stepped inside. Homeroom must have been in session—students and the homeroom teacher were all present.
“You’re finally here!”
The homeroom teacher was a little girl.
Even being generous, she looked no older than thirteen. Bright brown bob-cut hair, big sparkling eyes, soft cheeks. The formal suit she wore looked completely out of place on her.
“You’re Seong-kun and Choi-yang, right? I’m Uratami Nene, homeroom teacher of Class 1-4!”
“An elementary schooler as homeroom teacher? You’re looking down on me way too hard. Even a hidden-camera prank needs some standards. Who’s falling for this?”
I answered in fluent Japanese. They’d issued us translation artifacts, but I’d left mine gathering dust in my room. My Japanese was already native-level.
“Pffft!”
“Kh-hup!”
“Hahahaha!”
The Japanese academy students burst out laughing.
“I-it’s not a hidden camera! I really am the homeroom teacher of Class 1-4!”
Uratami Nene shouted. Of course I already knew she was the real deal. Despite the childish appearance, she was well into her thirties. I’d just overreacted on purpose for the first impression.
“Liar. That was fun enough—cut it out. Where’s the actual teacher?”
“I told you, I’m the homeroom teacher of this class!!”
Furious, Uratami pointed proudly at her own chest. True to her childlike form, it was completely flat.
That’s a thirty-something’s chest… Tears are welling up.
A teacher’s ID hung around Uratami Nene’s neck. After checking it, I put on a shocked act.
“Y-you’re actually the teacher?!”
“Yes! I already said so! Why would anyone pull such a boring prank in the first place?”
“So Arashi Academy lets little kids become teachers… Talk about culture culture…”
“I’m not a little kid! I may look like this, but I’m in my thirties. I’m the older one here. And it’s not ‘culture culture’—it’s culture shock. In English, culture shock! Are you weak at English, Seong-kun?”
Now that she mentioned it, culture shock did sound right. Still, “culture culture” rolled off the tongue better.
“I’m good at English.”
Uratami Nene eyed me suspiciously, then shook her head with a sigh.
“Looks like we’ve got an unusual student joining us. Haa… The road ahead is dark, but first things first—introductions. Exchange students, come up front and introduce yourselves.”
Following her gesture, I stepped onto the platform. Every pair of eyes locked onto me—curious, hostile, wary, all mixed together. I quietly scanned their faces. A few of them I already knew from the original story.
“I’m Seong Yujin. Here from Korea’s Maruhan Academy for the exchange. I’m ranked first in my year at Maruhan. For reference, my mother is Seong Ha-ri. Looking forward to working with you.”
“…….”
The moment the name Seong Ha-ri left my mouth, every student stared at me with open interest. Once hailed as the strongest hero, Seong Ha-ri was famous even among Japanese academy students.
“I’m Choi Dayeon. Ranked fourth in my year. My family runs the Geumhwa Group.”
“…….”
Silence again.
The Geumhwa Group. Too internationally famous to pretend you didn’t know it.
“Alright, alright, don’t leave the exchange students hanging with zero reaction. Everyone, give them a round of applause!”
Clap clap clap!
Uratami Nene started clapping first, and the students followed. Clear goodwill toward her. She seemed popular with her class.
“Seong-kun! Choi-yang! See those empty seats? Seong-kun, take the one in the back. Choi-yang, the one on the left.”
Choi Dayeon and I headed for our seats. She walked with her long black hair swaying, every step dripping arrogance. That prim face and aura made her the kind of person other students instinctively kept their distance from.
“She’s a real young lady.”
“Geumhwa Group—that’s the big one, right? The smartphone company?”
“The vibe alone is no joke… Better not get close.”
Choi Dayeon clearly had zero interest in making friends. Thanks to her outstanding looks and presence drawing all the aggro, almost no one paid attention to me. Almost.
“Son of Gwan-cheon of the Thunder, huh…”
“If he’s first in his year at Maruhan, how strong is he?”
“At least Four Heavenly Kings level, right?”
“Doesn’t look that strong on the outside, though.”
As I walked to my seat I deliberately ramped up the tension. If anyone tried to pick a fight with me right here… I planned to smash them without caring about the consequences. No one did. I sat down without incident.
The guy in the next seat offered a greeting. Black hair, ordinary-looking face. The kind of “ordinary” that somehow stood out—exactly the Japanese light-novel protagonist vibe.
“Hey, Seong-san. I’m Hyodo Yuuki. Nice to meet you.”
He introduced himself first. The name made me pause.
Hyodo Yuuki.
In the original story he was basically a co-lead for the entire Japanese exchange arc. The plot was pure light-novel cheese, so he never had many fans, but still.
Didn’t expect to end up right next to him. He looks so average I almost didn’t recognize him.
I smiled back at him.
“Yeah. Looking forward to it. What’s your year ranking?”
“Ah, well… Arashi Academy hasn’t held finals yet, so year rankings aren’t out. I came in 300th on the entrance exam. Embarrassing, but I’m dead last.”
He said it with a face that looked not even slightly embarrassed. Plenty of light-novel protagonists were the secretly-overpowered type… and Hyodo Yuuki was exactly that. During the entrance exam he’d been late through no real fault of his own and bombed the written test. Principal Tenrai Nagisa had pulled strings to get him in, but he still sat at rock-bottom 300th.
Hyodo Yuuki’s real strength easily puts him inside the top ten of the year.
The whole situation was ridiculous in the best way.
“We’ve only got about two months, but… take care of me.”