Chapter 67
Chapter 67
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: 14. The F-Rank Instructor (2)
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Lee Soo-chan recognized Kang San but couldn't bring himself to speak first.
From Kang San's perspective, he was just a fleeting acquaintance, and Lee Soo-chan might not even be a fond memory. There hadn't been any major conflicts, but they hadn't built a positive relationship either.
While he hesitated like that,
Kang San proceeded with the lesson.
"To be honest, I'm not sure if I even have the qualifications to teach you all. Team Leader Jeong Hye-mi requested my help despite my limited abilities, and I accepted because I thought there was at least a role I could handle. The training we'll do from now on won't be one-sided lecturing—it's a discussion. We'll examine what went wrong, whether it aligns with your own thoughts or not. Don't just accept it blindly because it's a lesson; share your ideas and judge whose perspective is even slightly closer to the right direction."
He gave the signal.
Jeong Hye-mi nodded, and the staff assisting with the training played the pre-prepared video on the screen.
Flash.
"This is footage from Project B Team's party. Watch it from start to finish first."
A full 55 minutes.
For Min Young-gi and the other team members, it was a torturous time.
They couldn't hide their despair as they watched themselves fall into traps, struggle, and flail about on screen. It was an embarrassing past. They wanted to deny it, but it was preserved forever in that video.
Still, they didn't turn away from reality.
As Jeong Hye-mi had said.
What mattered now was growth, and they couldn't waste this boiling emotion in vain.
They watched intently.
Their eyes burned with genuine determination to find out exactly what they had done wrong.
Cut.
The video stopped.
Kang San turned to the group and asked, "For this test, what do you think the first mistake was?"
"I believe failing to respond to the fall incident was the critical error. It's an accident that can easily happen in terrain like a cave, but our careless handling not only injured the mages but also cost us significant time. If we'd gotten past that incident safely, we could have finished within 50 minutes."
"I see it differently."
"Pardon?"
Min Young-gi looked flustered.
In his mind, up until the fall, they hadn't made any notable mistakes.
Kang San rewound the video.
Then,
Click.
He restarted it from the very beginning.
"Right after the test started. You made the wrong call by using 'magic' from the outset."
It didn't make sense.
Inside the cave.
Blanketed in pitch-black darkness.
Using magic to illuminate the dark was the most logical, obvious decision.
Min Young-gi said, "Why was that wrong? If we hadn't used Light magic, we'd have had to fight the spiders in the dark."
"You're right. That decision isn't inherently wrong, but add the premise of a time-limited test, and it changes everything. You knew—and I knew—we had to clear it within one hour. If you move too cautiously without maximizing speed, you risk going over time. Let's rewind the situation. From the moment the mage casts Light to solve the darkness constraint, that magic has to stay active until the test ends. As you said, you can't face the spiders in the dark."
Unlike his humble start,
Kang San's tone was firm.
Now that both sides believed their arguments were correct, he laid out solid reasoning to assert his view.
"Magic is a tricky domain. Casting requires mental focus, and anything that erodes the mind sharply degrades a mage's performance. So, let me ask: with the mage bearing the risk of maintaining 'Light' for a full hour—however minor—do you think they can perform at 100%?"
"That's not an issue. We had three mages in a firepower-heavy party from the start. Just like other parties have support roles, one of ours took that on."
"Sure. If roles were assigned that way, it might be fine. But as I said, this is a time-constrained situation where you have no choice but to hurry. Mages inherently have poor physical abilities. One maintaining Light, another using magic against monsters. What happens if the ground collapses?"
"Well..."
Suddenly,
he was at a loss for words.
Thinking back, the mage who suffered the worst injury in the fall was the one casting Light.
"A mage naturally can't respond to variables as well. You could call it unavoidable, but that's why parties have diverse roles. Positions with agile physiques can maintain skills like 'Light' and still react to surprises, but mages can't. Role imbalance—a non-issue without time pressure—becomes a problem here. That tiny detail directly led to the mage's injury."
His head spun in confusion.
He understood the words.
But accepting them was another matter.
"Does that mean the party composition itself was wrong from the start?"
"I never said that. There are many ways to handle a test like this. A warrior or sub-tank could prepare something to light the dark, or the mage could cast Light while being ready for variables. It happened because neither was done, so in hindsight, the leader's judgment was the issue."
"...So you're saying it was my misstep?"
"Yes."
A resolute answer.
Something snapped in his mind.
Min Young-gi's face twisted in anger.
"Wasn't that crossing the line?"
He tried to hold back.
He wanted to accept the guidance, no matter what.
But this was too much.
Kang San's remark blatantly aimed criticism at Min Young-gi.
Min Young-gi said, "Didn't you just admit it yourself? It's hindsight blaming me. If we're judging by the failed outcome, nothing can be ruled out as a problem. We've solved countless issues this way before. The Light mage getting badly hurt in the fall was definitely due to our carelessness. But if that's all because of one minor Light spell—one that's not even taxing for a mage—then it's just hindsight talk."
It wasn't wrong.
Light was a low-mana spell.
Blaming such a variable for the failure—and pinning it on the leader—felt excessive.
Kang San replied with unwavering eyes.
"No. In a failure, no step is meaningless. Even dressed up as a test, this was a life-or-death fight. If the mage had died in that fall, what would we prepare to avoid repeating the past? Eliminate variables. Respond to falls, find ways for mages to prioritize self-protection over support. Hindsight? Yes. But failure gives this logic its power."
"I can't accept that premise. No one would hold people accountable for such trivial things."
"Discussion is exchanging views. Dismissing it as trivial without refuting my logic makes this pointless. Convince me logically. Prove that even a 1% difference from that tiny gap doesn't mean your judgment was wrong."
"No...!"
Frustration boiled over.
Kang San's words,
rooted in the outcome, left no room for the loser to argue.
How was this even a discussion?
It wasn't exchanging ideas—it was Kang San declaring his words as absolute truth.
"Let's take a break. I don't think we can talk right now."
Min Young-gi stormed out.
The sudden turn left even Jeong Hye-mi unable to stop him.
He collapsed onto the break room sofa.
His heated emotions needed time to cool.
"...Fuck, what does he want from me?"
Min Young-gi.
He had a dream.
As a child, he'd nearly died in a sudden Link phenomenon.
Hiding under building rubble from slaughtering monsters, trembling in his parents' arms. Pitch black. Clinging tight, he saw nothing—until a foul stench hit. Instinct told him: a monster had come. He and his parents wouldn't survive.
He hugged his parents fiercely.
Only then did he realize he wasn't trembling alone.
That day,
Min Young-gi survived.
A monster's roar echoed suddenly. When he emerged from his parents' embrace, a man had slaughtered them all. Learning he was a famous Korean hunter sparked Min Young-gi's dream: to become strong like him, wielding positive influence.
He worked relentlessly.
He'd earned a spot on Project B Team, but reality wasn't hopeful.
The leading Project A Team.
B Team, rated lower.
Already mentally urgent, they'd performed poorly in this C-Rank test.
Rumors swirled internally.
Jeong Hye-mi had failed, and support for B Team would end.
Hearing Kang San's sharp criticism in that state felt like all his pent-up emotions exploding at once.
If it had been someone with real achievements.
If it had pointed out understandable mistakes.
He'd have accepted it.
He'd barely taken the role through talks with Jeong Hye-mi, but he couldn't tolerate this nonsense. Restraining from cursing to his face was basic courtesy. Deep down, he wanted to flip the whole thing over.
He barely swallowed his emotions.
He knew reacting emotionally was wrong.
That's when it happened.
"You okay?"
It was Lee Soo-chan's voice.
Opening his eyes, he saw him following behind.
"...I don't know. If this is right or wrong. Soo-chan, you get it. Even if we failed, getting called out over one Light spell is too much. Hindsight lets you say anything—every action could be the failure's cause."
"I understand how you feel, Team Leader."
Lee Soo-chan felt the same frustration.
He hadn't expected profound wisdom, but nitpicking criticism was unforeseen.
But,
he accepted it.
More precisely, he'd acknowledged Kang San from the start.
"Even so, I don't think his guidance is meaningless. That 40-minute clear? No way it's luck. He must have handled details we missed, accounting for the fall variable and still beating us by 10 minutes."
"...How can you be so sure?"
Only then did Min Young-gi sense something off.
Lee Soo-chan said,
"Kang San's methods. I've experienced them myself."
It was three years ago.
A story from when Lee Soo-chan was a rookie, before joining Project B Team.