The Witchcraft Quarter (1)
Imperial State vs. 101st Korea Hometown Association
Depending on the outcome of today's friendship match, the winner — the 101st Korea Hometown Association — shall be promoted to full club status, while the Imperial State shall be demoted to provisional status.
"Well, that settles it. No doubt about it."
There was no way a document handed down by my master could be forged, so it had to be the real thing.
"Then that puts an end to the dispute, does it?"
"Yeah. Completely over."
The moment I declared it so, Cheon Yuha — who had been leaning in to comb through the document — sprang to her feet and started bouncing up and down.
"Oho! From this day forward, we are an official club!"
"Huzzah—!"
"Yeah! Long live Korea!"
"WOOOOOO!"
Following her lead, the hangers-on around us — the other members of the 101st Korea Hometown Association — joined the chorus and began circling the bed in a ring.
What on earth was this. Not even an American Indian ritual went quite like this.
Sitting on the sickbed at the center of it all, I closed my eyes with the distinct feeling of a sacrifice being offered up to some ancient god.
These idiots have lost it.
The reason the doomed bastards were spinning in circles around the bed where I lay was that this place was the infirmary.
I seriously questioned whether loitering this close to a patient counted as proper conduct, but one thing was certain: they had stormed in under the pretext of a hospital visit.
Somehow the gap between my trips to the infirmary feels even shorter than in my past life.
How much time had passed since I broke both arms, only to show up injured again?
The small mercy was that this time only my right arm and my qi channels had been shredded.
Not that it mattered much — a few drops of elixir had brought the qi channels back to normal.
"Our first activity is a K-drama screening night!"
"I wish to see Gyeongbokgung! Surely the SNS declared it a sight that would astound even the Heavenly Demon Cult!"
"Excellent! Then, by my authority as club president, weekend field trip to Gyeongbokgung — confirmed!"
"WOOOOOO!"
"......"
I'd heard I still needed a long period of rest and recovery, so what in the world was wrong with these people?
Somebody, anybody, please clear these lunatics out of here.
A day passed, and Thursday arrived.
In barely half a day, my shattered right arm and fist had mostly healed.
Watching crushed knuckle bones mend in a day or two, one thing became clear: the Peak Realm was leagues ahead of First-rate when it came to regeneration.
At last, the feeling of transcending the human. It felt like standing at the starting line as a true martial artist.
I had reached the Peak Realm, and I had defeated a heavyweight within the school — one named Kujo Kisara.
"Not bad."
Because, who knew, I might have been expelled.
With the quiet anxiety that had lurked beneath everything finally gone, my head felt clear.
They say trials breed growth, but in the end, worry was terrible for your mental health.
"Come, come! Let us have our duel at once!"
As my realm climbed higher and the representative battle ended in victory, small changes began to appear.
For one, the number of dueling requests from Cheon Yuha had multiplied.
Where she used to merely probe once in a while, these days she asked with a feverish gleam in her eyes every single time we shared a meal.
...Honestly, sometimes I felt like I might choke.
Judging by how her gaze burned hotter by the day, it seemed I would have to actually duel her before long.
Beyond that murderous development, my club affiliation had been officially registered under the 101st Korea Hometown Association.
All lectures were now moving into full swing, and more and more students were burying themselves in their studies.
Beating Kujo Kisara had even brought an inspector from the General Student Council around to measure my approximate realm.
All sorts of minor changes had come and gone, but none of them fundamentally altered my daily life.
"Some martial artists neglect external body conditioning, but it is absolutely essential. As the body is tempered, it gains both weighty stability and agility in movement; for a Super-Peak martial artist to maintain his protective aura, or a mage her barrier — that is, to possess a minimal baseline of durability, one must..."
Scratch—scratch—
If anything counted as the biggest change, it was that with the theory lectures underway, I had started studying in earnest too.
Climbing all the way to the Peak Realm only to fail a theory class and get expelled — nothing could be more ridiculous than that.
High marks came with all manner of scholarship benefits, so since things had turned out this way anyway, I resolved to dig through my memories and rack up a top score.
Setting all that aside, my routine remained exactly as before: attend class, eat with Cheon Yuha, head to the training hall, repeat.
Every now and then I'd catch a furtive glance or two, but nothing ugly ever came of it — no crowds swarming me, no brazen whispering.
The main reason life stayed so peaceful was that while word of our victory in the representative battle had spread, the details — who had fought whom, how the duel had unfolded — were all sealed under confidentiality.
Some people guessed the outcome from who had been carried into the infirmary, but at least the news that I had single-handedly toppled the fourth-ranked student of our year never got out.
Had it leaked, the name Choi Gangjun would have been chewed up and spit out on the chopping block by now.
Reaching the Peak Realm was one thing, but standing out that conspicuously was far too early.
At least until I hit Super-Peak and quietly snatched a top-tier ranking where no one could see.
Unless I had the strength to win against anyone who came at me, there was no need to advertise myself as a curiosity.
Now that I'd reached the Peak Realm, Super-Peak was only a matter of time anyway.
I would simply keep operating in the shadows, then seize the top in one clean stroke.
Expulsion?
That word didn't even register anymore.
The only thing I'm aiming for is first place.
The valedictorian's seat.
Reaching the summit of the Academy in this life didn't sound half bad.
And to do that, it was best to eliminate every possible risk.
Say, for example — volunteer service.
If I kept putting it off and something came up that prevented me from going, that would be a disaster, so better to knock it out in advance.
My apologies. Word came from the Elder, so I cannot accompany you this weekend after all.
Whether something had happened at the Heavenly Demon Cult in the Hundred Thousand Mountains, Cheon Yuha had been called away.
I, on the other hand, was diligently on the move the moment the weekend arrived.
The infamous magic tower I'd been assigned for off-campus service stood far from the Combat Department campus, so I had no choice but to take the train.
It says 'off-campus,' but in practice they assigned me a spot on campus — should I be thanking them?
And so I found myself on the train platform for the first time in a while, and came face to face with a familiar face entirely by accident.
An elf in casual clothes, a bow and quiver slung across her back as if headed out for a hunt. Elenor Andersen scrunched up her lovely face in a scowl.
"......Ha?"
Hey, I'm not exactly thrilled about this either.
It's not easy to keep calm around someone who tried to paint my sister and me in some sordid affair. Honestly, I just didn't know what to say to her.
So I tried to write it off as a chance meeting and ignore her — but before long, the elf and I had boarded the train and both stopped dead in front of a compartment door.
The elf's eyes went wide.
What is this.
...Don't tell me we're in the same compartment.
It seemed I wasn't the only one who'd made a lazy assumption, because Elenor's pupils were shaking violently.
If I'd known this would happen, I would've taken a later train instead of the first one.
This was not good.
But even as I thought it, neither of us could spend the whole ride standing in the corridor, so I resigned myself and stepped inside.
The elf beside me, apparently of the same mind, squeezed her eyes shut and sank into her seat.
Departing shortly. All passengers, please fasten your safety harnesses.
"......"
"......"
How long did we sit in that air too thick to breathe?
The train departed, and after enduring yet another endless silence, the voice I'd been waiting for finally came.
We have arrived at the Witchcraft Quarter. All passengers disembarking, please exit the train immediately.
The instant the announcement crackled through the compartment speaker, I shot up from my seat.
So did the elf.
No way.
"......Heh."
"......Haaah."
We were headed to the exact same destination.
Intuiting the discomfort the entire day ahead would bring, I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Welcome, everyone, to the Montecristo Magic Tower. We are delighted to have you."
The Combat Department campus did have lodgings for the Witchcraft Quarter's faculty and a dedicated research wing, but that wasn't their true base.
Unlike martial artists, who needed nothing more than a spare administrative building and a training ground, mages had a peculiar fondness for the grandiose.
Whether they specialized in Eastern occultism or Western magic, they were alike in at least that much.
In that sense, this neighborhood was nothing short of a paradise for mages and occultists.
The Witchcraft Quarter.
Where the General Student Council Building was a marvel woven from the branches of the great World Tree, this place was spectacular in an entirely different sense.
All manner of contraptions of unknown purpose drifted through the sky above the streets, and every building vomited forth garish lights in strange, unnatural hues.
This was the most advanced district in magic engineering — science fused with spellcraft — and yet cheap, gaudy neon signs and electronic billboards hung from every corner.
Even within this godforsaken Seondo, it was famous as the neighborhood where the eccentrics lived.
Our destination was a magic tower specializing in Western class magic.
"Thank you once more for visiting our tower. What shall I bring you to drink?"
"Green tea, then."
"...Ah, I'm fine, thank you."
"Then please wait just a moment."
"Huh? No, hold on—"
Whoosh! The guide vanished from the room, leaving the two of us alone.
The tower guide, blissfully oblivious, had stuffed the two of us who'd arrived on the same train into the same reception room without a second thought.
In a way it was a perfectly natural arrangement, but using fetching drinks as an excuse to leave us alone together — that was a step too far.
"Ah."
Feeling the atmosphere in the room instantly stiffen, I scratched the back of my head.
Great. What do I do about this mood.
Thoroughly sick of a situation with no visible end, I steeled myself and turned toward Elenor.
"Hey, there's something I want to say—"
At that instant, the elf's ears perked straight up.
I meant to go on, determined to clear up this misunderstanding once and for all.
But then came the creak of a door, and my brow furrowed.
Nothing's going right today, is it.
Letting out a sigh, I turned back around to check on the visitor.
"Pleasure to meet you, ignoramuses."
The visitor was not the guide returning with green tea, but a gaunt monstrosity with a pumpkin perched atop its skeletal frame.
"I am Professor Pumpkinsson, full-time professor of the Occultism Department."
The pumpkin-headed mage fixed us with a burning stare, then suddenly bellowed:
"And the magnificent scientist who shall conduct a most glorious experiment with you lot — today!"
"......Heh."
Ignoramuses? Experiment? Scientist?
The moment those words hit my ears, I knew.
Somehow, it seemed I had gotten on the absolutely, catastrophically wrong train today.