Chapter 282
Chapter 282
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 282
Chapter Title: On the Surface (1)
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Ring ring ring.
Young-min's phone, which rarely rang these days, blared noisily. After handing over about 100 million won to his parents last time, and another 100 million or so since then, they'd only exchanged occasional greetings. But this wasn't the moment for that.
"Huh... whose number is this?"
Checking the screen, he saw it wasn't his parents—the area code was different. Still, it felt vaguely familiar.
With a strange sense of unease, Young-min answered.
"This is Kwon Young-min."
-Yo, Young-min, you planning to reenroll or what?
"Chan-eop?"
The voice was faint but unmistakable. It was his friend Chan-eop.
But why call from a landline instead of his cell?
As that thought crossed his mind, Chan-eop spoke up.
-Call me TA, dude.
"Oh, right. What's this sudden talk of reenrolling?"
Come to think of it, Chan-eop had mentioned working as a teaching assistant while in grad school. Even so, why bring up reenrollment out of the blue?
-It's not sudden! You've used up all your leave extensions. Time to reenroll, or you'll get kicked out!
"Oh..."
Young-min swallowed the urge to say 'what a pain' as a frown creased his forehead.
He had no intention of actually attending classes anyway, but his parents had talked him out of dropping out entirely.
Something about needing that college diploma?
He was raking in massive cash from The Lord already, so school meant nothing. That's why he'd kept extending his leaves—until he'd burned through them all, apparently.
"Already?"
'Might as well just drop out.'
His parents would give him hell later, but forcing himself to that pointless school seemed worse.
In the midst of that brief internal debate, Chan-eop continued as if reading his mind.
-Just reenroll for now. Fake some employment certs, skip classes, done. If it's tough, I know a guy who'll sign one for you. Just show up. Pick classes from profs who accept them.
"Hmm, got it."
That actually sounded workable. Colleges were all about jobs and money these days anyway, right?
Schools obsessed over employment rates, so a fake job cert would get him minimum credits and a diploma, no sweat.
Chan-eop even offered to get one from his contact, but worst case, he could whip up a ghost company.
It was still a hassle, but compared to dealing with his parents later, this might save time.
'Register a business or something.'
Of course, issues remained. Not every prof accepted employment certs.
But flip that: schedule around those profs, skip school entirely, still graduate.
"Alright, I'm going."
With no choice, Young-min grabbed some clothes and headed to school—to the department office where Chan-eop worked.
"You made it?"
"Ooh, looking more like a TA now?"
Chan-eop's under-eye circles hung heavy, work clearly wearing him down.
They said TAs handled everything for profs—papers, errands. Seemed true.
"Was that an insult? Anyway, paperwork's ready. Just follow this. I'll let you know when it's processed, then enroll in classes. Employment certs later—I've listed profs who accept them, so pick from these. But you know Kim Chang-hee's required course doesn't fly, right? Take that one, and you're golden otherwise. Profs don't share notes. Plus, that guy's a total loner among them."
"Got it. Thanks. Drinks on me later."
Time was short, but Chan-eop had kindly prepped all the docs and details.
Made things easy. For major classes, pulling strings for a seat was no biggie—Chan-eop said he'd talk to profs directly for overbooked spots.
"Later when? Don't flake—tomorrow's the opening party, come out."
"Opening party? Eh..."
Young-min had bad memories of those.
At his age, hanging with freshmen and acting like an old fogey? No thanks.
"I'm busy too. You'll go AFK grinding games again anyway. Profs expect me there, so just show, mingle a bit. Swing by first round for food, then we drink separately. Or wait and roll in with me."
"Tch, fine."
He owed the guy, so Young-min couldn't flat-out refuse. Not thrilled, but no one here knew him anymore. Not the worst.
'No one remembers that mess.'
Word had spread a bit after he wrecked that Blood Chaser guy, but Chan-eop said it'd been smoothed over.
That dude—Su-hee's boyfriend?—had punched the police chief's son, got expelled after some red flags.
Even if anyone stuck around unscathed, they wouldn't know Young-min was back or at the party unless Chan-eop spilled.
'Not that it'd matter if they showed.'
No big deal if they did.
Korea's security was top-tier, and could that punk beat him in a scrap?
No Rokan-level power or speed, but game-honed instincts made real fights easy.
He'd hold back as an adult, though.
'Still, avoid the hassle.'
Investigations meant less game time—pure annoyance.
Paperwork done, he headed home. Soon, Chan-eop called: reenrollment approved, time to register classes.
Young-min searched the profs Chan-eop listed, enrolled roughly, then logged into The Lord. Checked backlog intel, ordered Black Dragon Legion war prep, invested in troops—day gone.
"Ugh, what a drag."
Room 111 lecture hall.
New students gathered for student council intros and orientation. Young-min sat in the back row, scanning faces.
No familiar ones, luckily.
"Man, drinks mean no gaming tonight."
"Or sober up and grind at dawn?"
"I'm on a quest. Help a bro?"
Ears perked—talk was all The Lord, as expected.
Some other games popped up, but guys and girls alike chatted quests, levels, item stats.
Front-row newbies alone paid attention to council and profs.
Then, something even Rokan might note.
"Hey, heard it? A freshman's hit Master level."
"No way? Insane."
"How much grinding that take? I'm stuck at early Expert."
"Oh yeah, didn't we have a senior Master too?"
"Right. Who wins in a fight?"
A freshman had reached Master.
High school senior just months ago—basically ditched exams.
'Our department's cutoff ain't high, though.'
That grind on studies could've landed a better school. But he chuckled at his own hypocrisy. Him, who'd nearly quit over pointless school life?
Curious who, instead.
'No game-pro looking dudes here... skipped?'
Even he'd hunt one more mob over this lame party.
He followed along, thinking that.
Brief talks and intros done, they collected 10,000 won each and moved to a cheap grill joint nearby.
'Boring.'
Seats split: current and returning students separate.
Worried returnees might kill the vibe, but they knew to slink to the corner anyway.
Mostly fresh-out-of-military guys, quick to set up and grill—made it comfy. But their sneaky glances at freshman girls creeped Young-min out.
'When's Chan-eop coming?'
Said he'd be right there, but prof duties dragging, apparently.
10, 20 minutes—no show. Meanwhile, newbies and currents bonded over shots, party heating.
"Seriously? Master level? I can't even clear Expert quest! Help me?"
Hottest guy: the gamer.
Used to be guy thing, but The Lord hooked everyone—spotlight full on him.
'What the?'
Sudden commotion drew Young-min's glance. Strutting freshman's getup was ridiculous.
Missed it from back earlier: slicked-back pomade like cow-licked, logos screaming luxury gear, lording over newbies and currents.
"Expert quest? Tough for girl players. Faction mismatch blocks help, but tips? Sure."
Hilarious sight.
'Master, huh?'
Top-tier among users, rare find.
Cash out gold? Decent bank.
But strutting like a game god? Sickening.
"Oh, senior, can't clear that? Just know the strat—easy. Your reflexes lacking?"
"It's expensive? Haha, pocket change."
"Jung Eun-ah, switch races already? I'll carry you there quick."
"Shut it. Sound like you're the only Master in The Lord. You Rokan or something?"
Finally, a current student snapped.
Others eyed nervously—scary senior role?
Still younger than Young-min.
"Ooh, Masters clashing?"
"Capsule room later? Gotta watch."
Seemed the senior was the department Master.
Subtle tension.
Silence hung, then the freshman spoke unexpectedly.
"Oh, you're a Master too, right? That Rokan fanboy? Human berserker?"
Twitch.
Senior's face twisted at the sneering tone. Not how you talk to a senior.
"What? Said something wrong? It's praise. Berserk crutch, sure, but Master as human? Impressive. Right, senior?"
Grinning mug was obnoxious.
Fists might fly, but he shrugged off restraining friends.
Made bank, and this major led nowhere—why bow to seniors?
Old days, seniors joked 'won't guide you, but can block you.' Not anymore.
Aware, his attitude grew bolder.
"What's your race?"
"Troll. Can't fathom why folks pick that thorny path over easy mode. Masochists?"
"Yeah. And got smashed by Rokan."
Senior fired back undaunted.
Final race war winner: human—no, Rokan.
Even with 'race crutch' talk lingering, humans couldn't be dismissed anymore.
But freshman bolder than expected.
"Ha! Ancient history Rokan? Haven't seen him lately. Didn't Kyarus strip him bare? Lucky drop or whatever—Golden Lion Alliance crowing won't last. Kyarus snagged 'that thing,' so Rokan or whoever... Ahem, anyway, watch yourself, senior. Stay outta war zones. You'll drop full inventory down to undies. Yeah?"
"You little...!"
"What? Wrong? Confident? 1v1 then. ShinGung Guild—handle that? What's your ID?"
"Yo, stop him!"
Bickering went nuclear.
Freshman bragged no department loyalty and bounced; currents restrained punch-happy senior. Chaos.
'Kyarus, huh?'
In the mess, Rokan finally showed interest. Not the fight— that ShinGung freshman's words.
Specifically, on Kyarus.
'That thing'—others clueless, but Rokan guessed instantly.
Troll divine relic.
Artifact boosting Kyarus to Grand Master.
Explained Black Dragon Legion's suspicious moves lately.
Because of that.
Confidence they could smash Rokan or anyone, reclaim surface dominance.
"What? Why the racket? President, what's up?"
Then prof and Chan-eop entered.
No chaos before prof—freshman played dumb, currents calmed, party resumed.
But Young-min's mind was elsewhere.
Surface stopover for fund recovery suddenly got interesting.