Little Sister (1)

Hunter Academy. Twenty years ago the Gates appeared, and with them, the Awakened.

This was an academy built to train those Awakened—to prepare for what was coming.

The Harlim Academy that Chaewon attended was considered the finest in all of Korea.

It's great. All of it is great... except, damn, that place is brutal.

Human rights controversies had erupted more than once. It was a school for forging combat power—in all but name, a factory for soldiers. Corporal punishment and every flavor of institutional abuse came baked in from the start. Hell Joseon hadn't earned its nickname for nothing: they'd imported America's "academy" system, then turned it into a living hell at record speed.

I heard they wash out more than fifty students a year.

Dropping out of the academy came in two flavors.

Voluntary withdrawal.

And suicide.

They didn't publish the suicide numbers, but even the dropout count was shocking enough. This wasn't some special forces boot camp, for crying out loud. Even accounting for the academy's size, those numbers were staggering. With Chaewon attending a place like that, a little pruning was essential.

At least Sia's there. That's something.

Yoo Sia had been a famous prospect from the moment she enrolled. Naturally—she was destined to become the youngest S-rank Hunter.

Lost in thought, I arrived before I knew it. The shop and the academy weren't far apart to begin with; we'd chosen the location specifically to target Harlim Academy.

Looks like class is over.

Through a gap visible from outside, I could see students running around, playing. Then again, Harlim Academy was brutal in its living conditions, but the actual class schedule was fairly generous. Lunch was three hours long, I think? Of course, I'd also heard that those endless lunch hours only made the bullying worse.

Anyway, I stationed myself at the front gate to observe my little sister in secret.

A security guard in a suit stepped into my path.

"Hold it. No outsiders allowed."

Human rights groups had made such a fuss that outsider access was locked down tight. Some journalist had once snuck in posing as a student, and the procedures had only gotten stricter since. The sharp-eyed guard was bristling with suspicion. I answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Huh? I'm a student here."

"...You came to school without a uniform? Let me see your student ID."

"Here you go."

I rummaged through my pocket and pulled something out.

Of course, there was nothing in my hand.

"Are you messing with—"

I nodded as the status window I'd been waiting for appeared.

"I am a student here. You can see my student ID, right?"

Artifact: Charm.

I'd gotten it after killing the disaster-class monster Achilles. It was a ring-type artifact that let you use a skill called Charm on one person at a time. The catch: it didn't work on targets ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with a certain level of magic resistance, and unreasonable demands wouldn't take.

An academy security guard, though? More than enough.

"Showing up this late—have you lost your mind? Get inside before a professor chews you out!"

The guard's pupils unfocused, and he answered mechanically.

"Yes. Sorry about that."

I dipped my head in a quick bow and strode in like I owned the place.

I rummaged through my inventory. Where did I put that thing...

Found it.

I'd prepared it specifically to observe Chaewon's school life. Wear this, sit in a classroom, and nobody would even notice I was there.

I put on the mask and started walking. The effect was rock-solid—not a single person so much as glanced my way.

Let's see... Chaewon's classroom.

Class 3, if I remembered right. Ever since we were kids, Chaewon would come home from school bursting with stories about her day.

Maybe it had been consideration. After our parents died when we were young, I'd dropped out of school to run the noodle shop.

Back then, I'd gotten annoyed listening to her stories. Looking back now, I couldn't understand myself. From her perspective, she'd been trying to include me... Now that I'd regressed, I ought to listen properly.

I opened the door to Class 3.

Students and professor alike—not a single person noticed the door had opened.

I sat down in any empty seat.

Chaewon was eating bread, her chubby cheeks working nonstop.

...Eating that much, huh.

...My little sister did have a bit of a gluttonous streak. Anyway, chatting with Sia, she looked pretty happy. I propped my chin on my hand and watched.

Early March, just after the new semester had started.

The classroom scene was so warm it stirred up faint, distant memories.

"Your brother's pretty cool."

The two of them were walking down the street.

Chaewon jumped at the sudden remark.

"H-huh? Out of nowhere?"

Sia had a habit of dropping comments like this out of the blue. It had already been a year since they'd gotten close, but this was one thing Chaewon still couldn't get used to.

"You talk about your brother all the time, so I was curious. And then I actually met him... he's pretty handsome. Maybe because you two look exactly alike?"

"We do not!"

Chaewon recoiled in disgust. A perfectly ordinary sibling reaction.

Sia said it with a laugh.

"It's true. Your personalities are a bit different... but looks-wise, you're carbon copies, aren't you? I was a little surprised, though—he's got this cool vibe. Meanwhile you're this cute."

"W-what do you mean we look the same. We don't—we don't look alike. At all."

Chaewon stammered, her cheeks flushing red.

The truth was, her brother Seonghun was rather good-looking. Chaewon had always believed he'd hogged all the superior genes, so even as she protested on the surface, she was secretly pleased.

Sia watched her for a long moment, then the corner of her mouth curled up.

"You're so dishonest. In that case, I guess I'll just eat the bread I bought for you today."

Her face was full of mischief.

"Bread...?"

Bread was one of Chaewon's favorite foods. Her pupils trembled violently.

Bread versus pride.

A desperate tightrope walk unfolded between the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠two.

Sia narrowed her eyes and added,

"It's a pizza bun. ...If you don't want it, that's fine."

Sia rummaged around, pulled out the bun, and waved it.

Gulp.

Chaewon's gaze locked on. Moments later, she finally burst out, excited.

"I-I look ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just like my brother! We're practically twins!"

Pride, traded for an eighty-cent bun.

Chaewon grinned triumphantly, thoroughly convinced it had been a fair deal.

"Is it good?"

Sia looked at Chaewon with an expression that said she was adorable.

"I'm not going to steal any, so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠take your time, Chaewon."

Chaewon worked her small mouth around the pizza bun. She looked for all the world like a rabbit nibbling on pellets. She declared it in a proud tone:

"Pizza is the most delicious food in the world. Same goes for bread. Therefore, pizza buns are God!"

Munch, munch.

Chaewon ate the pizza bun with relish. Sia smiled quietly and wiped the crumbs from the corner of her mouth.

So cute.

Just then, the class president spoke to Sia.

"Sia. Teacher wants you. Go to the faculty office."

Sia nodded halfheartedly, then said to Chaewon in a sweet voice,

"I'll run to the faculty office real quick."

"Okay! Come back soon."

"There's milk in my bag too, so drink that as well."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

As the conversation started to drag, the class president pressed her.

"Uh, Sia. You should probably hurry—"

"I'll go now, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't rush me."

Sia said it with a blank expression and rose from her seat. Faced with an attitude that was the complete opposite of moments before, the class president's face soured. Sia paid it no mind and left through the back door of the classroom.

I should savor the milk.

Meanwhile, Chaewon was absorbed in eating her pizza bun. She had a habit of savoring the things she liked, and she deliberately ate slowly, wanting to draw out the sweetness a little longer.

That was when a girl approached Chaewon and said,

"Look at you, stuffing your face like a pig."

Chaewon flinched. At that icy voice, her expression froze.

Her name was Shin Jihye.

She'd been bullying Chaewon since middle school. Even after getting into a good high school, that long, ugly connection hadn't ended. Of all the places, she'd ended up at the same school as Jihye—the ringleader of her bullying. And so Chaewon found herself being tormented just like she had been in middle school.

Shin Jihye was the daughter of a famous National Assembly member. Bees flocking to the sweetness of power was only natural, and they formed a pack to torment Chaewon.

If there was a silver lining, it was that unlike middle school, she now had a friend named Sia. The problem was that Sia was busy, and in her absence, Chaewon had to endure the bullying alone.

"You're an orphan, so there's nobody to cook for you—that's why you're pigging out here. Right?"

"Heh, go easy, Jihye. She's gonna cry."

"Let her cry. You pathetic bitch."

Chaewon set down the pizza bun she'd been eating, her expression sad. In a very small voice, she said,

"...There is someone who cooks for me."

"Ah, that brother of yours who runs a noodle shop?"

"What? A noodle shop?"

"Yeah. Her real brother runs a noodle place."

"Ah, so that's why... she reeks of anchovy broth?"

Pfft.

The classroom erupted into a sea of laughter in an instant.

Chaewon's face flushed red. She lowered her head.

But it wasn't a head bowed in shame so much as one fighting to hold back her anger.

"...Shin Jihye. Don't you dare talk about my brother like that."

She could endure insults directed at herself. But insults directed at her brother—those she could not.

"...This fucking bitch. I let her slide, and look what happens."

Of course Jihye wasn't about to let that slide. Looking furious, she strode over and grabbed Chaewon by the collar.

Chaewon didn't look away. She spoke with her head held high.

"You've never accomplished a single thing on your own. You're nothing but a pathetic, incompetent waste of a life living off Daddy's connections. Don't you dare insult someone who works harder than anyone. You don't have the right—not to me, and not to my brother."

Every word was a fact. Harlim Academy was notorious for how hard it was to get into, and Shin Jihye had padded her inadequate skills with connections to slip through. It was a fairly well-known story.

...And it was the one thing Shin Jihye hated hearing more than anything in the world.

She spoke through gritted teeth.

Chaewon closed her eyes.

And they didn't see it.

In the corner seat, his face flushed a deep crimson, trembling with barely contained fury—Seonghun.