The Forgotten Tome of Mastery

The Hanseong Academy library is divided into five levels. The first level is open to the general public, while the second is accessible only to cadets and above. The third requires reservations for cadets and higher, the fourth is restricted to approved personnel only, and the fifth is reserved exclusively for administrators. Security tightens with each ascending level, and starting from the third, additional protocols limit visits to three per month, mandating advance reservations.

Because of that, I made a trip to the library to book my slot for the third floor and could only enter two days later.

Two days later. At the entrance to the third floor of the library.

Arriving at the security checkpoint, the vast expanse of the third-floor library came into view at a glance. Fitting for the world's top academy, it was staggeringly immense.

"…It's huge."

Walls and mountains formed of books and shelves. Someone might wonder why they don't store everything as e-books to save space.

There were good reasons for it. First, unlike the books on the first and second floors, the third floor and above housed special volumes—like grimoires and ancient tomes recovered from ruins or sanctuaries.

Second, some paper books held value not just in their information, but in their very existence. National treasures, artifacts, cultural relics, that sort of thing.

The achievement I was after tied into the first point. Some of those ancient tomes from sanctuaries or artifacts weren't properly cataloged due to their unique properties and the library's sheer size. Sorting them into order earned rewards.

I'd learned this by chance in my previous life.

"…Let's get started."

I rolled up my sleeves and wandered between the shelves. Organizing books wasn't hard. Just scan the gaps intently, spot the out-of-place ones, and slot them correctly.

No need to decipher the demonic script, otherworldly tongues, or backworld languages on the ancient tomes—judge by appearance, color, and the library's classification bands.

After sorting about ten volumes, the expected reward popped up, right on cue.

"As expected."

I kept at it, pounding the pavement until I'd sorted 30, then 50 volumes.

In five hours, I'd netted a whopping 6,000 points. It demanded focus, so it took time, but the payoff per hour was solid. Still, pushing further would wear me out.

"…Whew, intense."

Probably the next thresholds were 100 or 200 books. No way I could hit that today, so I dusted off my hands.

…Might as well call it here. Plenty more days ahead.

As I rolled my stiff shoulders, preparing to head out—

Thud.

A single ancient tome tumbled from between the shelves. Must've been jostled loose by my organizing.

Blue cover framed in iron. Nothing special at first glance. I eyed the fallen book closely—then my eyes widened in shock.

"…What the hell is this?"

Among the ancient tomes from sanctuaries or artifacts, some were unique. Including books that imprinted magical effects, techniques, or inscriptions onto the body.

They fetched top dollar, usually one-offs that never ended up in libraries like this.

So why was this here…? Maybe it slipped in during sloppy early digitization and got forgotten.

"…"

Come to think of it, in my previous life, I'd heard a third-floor librarian mention stumbling on an inscription tome by chance. Said it turned his life around…

Could this be it?

"…Hm."

Whatever. It was a win for me. I glanced around, grabbed the tome, and slipped to a blind spot away from the CCTV.

No point leaving evidence.

Opening it revealed incomprehensible script. But for magically charged tomes, channeling mana was enough to trigger the effect.

I infused mana, and glowing runes leaped from the pages, etching into my chest to form the inscription.

A stinging pain followed, but nothing I couldn't handle.

"…Whew, jackpot."

Nothing else to say but good luck.

"…Wonder if there are more like this."

Gritting through the pain, I dodged prying eyes and scoured more shelves. No dice—nothing special turned up.

Finding even one inscription tome here was the real anomaly.

I smacked my lips and headed back to the dorms. The stinging kept me from training that day; I crashed early.

"Monsters are graded from the lowest general rank, up through rare, enhanced, and disaster. There's also the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠special rank as an exception."

Friday morning's class was monster classification theory. With all practicals canceled, listening to familiar material felt dull and tedious.

"……Snoooore."

Go Su-young was nodding off beside me as usual. Instructor Kim Mi-young, who taught classification, droned on indifferently, ignoring it.

"When referring to typical monsters by classification, you state the rank first, followed by the level unit and common attributes. For example, the Elder Hole from the Outbound ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Incident was a disaster-level Cthulhu-grade…"

By the window, Mo Ye-ji kept glancing my way.

Why the stares? I could guess. Probably wanted to thank me for saving her. But with her prickly nature, even that was a tall order.

I pretended not to notice her gaze and casually turned my head that way. She whipped around like she'd never looked, playing it off.

Hah, hilarious.

I stifled chuckles through a few repeats until Instructor Kim Mi-young spoke up.

"…So, what criteria divide monsters' common attributes?"

I knew the answer but stayed quiet. Announcing earned points, but the hassle-to-reward ratio sucked, and anyway, I had presentation allergies.

Who says allergies like that exist? …They do.

"You there—the cadet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠laughing in the back."

"…The one sprawled out snoring next to him."

Not me. Thank god—it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Go Su-young.

I sighed in relief and nudged her shoulder to wake her.

"…Ugh?"

Damn, drool river again. I handed her a tissue from my pocket; she wiped her mouth while gauging the room.

Instructor Kim Mi-young said sternly, "Cadet who was sleeping. Sit up. I'll ask again: What criteria divide monsters' common attributes? Answer."

I whispered the answer low enough the instructor wouldn't hear.

"…Intelligence. Differences in cognition."

She caught it and replied, "I-intelligence. D-differences in cognitive ability."

"Oh? Correct. Not just sleeping after all. Sit."

Go Su-young slumped back, hand on her chest. "Th-thanks, Imir."

I shrugged. "I owe ya more."

Point farming goldmine.

But then a sharp prickly vibe hit. I glanced over—Mo Ye-ji was suddenly fascinated by something else.

…Hallucination? Probably just flinching from the inscription pain.

Still a ways to go before the chest inscription finished.

Pyo Ji-won was Pyo Hang-woo's fraternal twin sister. Twins were supposed to get along, but not heteropaternal ones—they loathed each other like any siblings.

Today, though, she'd have to swallow that disgust.

Pyo Ji-won said, "Hey, pig. You know that Imir guy in our class?"

"Who? Oh, that caveman?"

Pyo Hang-woo's words furrowed her brow.