Granbwa's Request Was Surprisingly Trivial
Granbwa's request was surprisingly trivial.
"Any flower will do?"
[Yes, any flower is fine. But you must invest time and sincere effort into it.]
"That shouldn't be too hard."
It wasn't an animal—it was a plant. Plants grow on their own if you just place them in sunlight and water them properly, so raising one didn't seem difficult. It might not be as easy as I thought, but if this would appease Granbwa, it was a request I could easily grant.
[It won't be that easy.]
Granbwa chuckled softly.
The day after the written exam ended, the provisional report cards were handed out right away. Since every subject had been multiple-choice with five options, grading hadn't taken long.
Ha Ye-jin confirmed that my scores matched my self-grading and told us to visit the staff room if there were any discrepancies. Her morning homeroom wrapped up with a note that rankings would be included on the final report.
In Scripture Comprehension and Romanica Theology, I got top marks—first place, tied with one other student. That meant someone else had scored exactly the same as me. Still, first place was excellent.
The problem was Divine Linguistics and Divine Materials.
"Oof…"
I'd studied, so I did better than average, but my scores were still low. My overall ranking, combining all subjects, put me at 61st out of 700 students. Solid top tier, but not enough to confidently say I'd beaten Seong Ha-yeon.
"How'd the exam go?"
Just then, Jeong In-ah popped her face over my shoulder. Come to think of it, she'd studied pretty hard too. I might have even done worse than her this time.
She glanced at my report card and continued.
"Oh, you're the one tied with me. I had a feeling."
"Tied…? Tied for first?"
I thought I'd misheard and asked again. Jeong In-ah silently handed me her report card.
First in Scripture and Romanica Theology, same as me. First in Divine Linguistics too. Second in Divine Materials, but overall, she was first place out of 700.
"…An error?"
"What error? I told you I studied hard!"
I muttered under my breath, and she pouted indignantly. No error, apparently. She'd always been a good student, and she'd put in the effort, but I hadn't expected such a dramatic turnaround.
"You did great… Way better than me."
"So? Jealous?"
"Nah? You earned it fair and square…"
It'd be a lie to say I wasn't envious. But I hadn't studied as hard as her, or even as efficiently. Of course her scores crushed mine. Envious, sure—but not resentful.
Jeong In-ah flashed a mischievous grin and playfully punched my shoulder.
"Liar, it's written all over your face."
"Not jealous, just…"
"Just?"
As she prompted me, Legba cleared his throat in my mind.
[Sorry to interrupt, but there's an error on your provisional report. Divine Linguistics, question 15. Go request a correction.]
Sure enough, checking my card, question 15 was marked wrong when I'd gotten it right. A correction would bump me up by about three points—maybe enough to shift my ranking meaningfully.
I stood up and finished answering her.
"First place means you hit your goal. Good for you."
"Huh? Goal?"
"You said first place was your target last time, right?"
I remembered clearly from our chat in the school library. Her beaming smile then, the guilt I'd felt—and puking up my coffee on the way back.
Jeong In-ah rolled her eyes as if rummaging through memories, then gasped as it clicked.
"Oh! Right, I did say that. Totally forgot."
"I can't believe I lost to a girl like you…"
"Hey! 'A girl like you'? You always say stuff like that."
She pouted like she was hurt and smacked my shoulder repeatedly with her palm. It didn't really hurt. Once she'd gotten her fill, she grinned broadly, satisfied.
"But seriously, you remember that? I even forgot."
"How could I forget? You said it."
"Huh…? What do you mean by that?"
She tilted her head with an awkward smile.
Every time I visited the chapel, I'd see Jeong Yun-ah's face at least once. I'd cast spells to keep her condition from worsening. With repeated voodoo, she improved noticeably—eventually managing basic expressions. A nod, or babbling nonsense. But nothing beyond "simple communication."
Weeks of clinging to it, throwing every spell I had—no further recovery in language. Like pouring water into a leaky jar.
"…I've got a good memory, that's all."
I brushed it off like that and slipped out of the classroom toward the staff room.
Each time, I'd replay what Jeong In-ah had told me. Picture the happy face she made talking about her sister. It steadied me.
That's why I couldn't forget her words. Only when I did—when Jeong Yun-ah was fully human again.
After practicals, we'd go on the religious field trip. That's when I'd get the Reverse Staff. Then I could restore Jeong Yun-ah.
Even if not… I'd make it possible. I had to.
It was the only way to dispel the deathly mist clinging to her.
The staff room was packed with students requesting corrections or pointing out errors. The tough exam meant lots didn't accept their scores.
I pushed through to Ha Ye-jin and explained the issue on my provisional card.
"Divine Linguistics, 15? Oh… yeah, that's wrong. I'll fix it. No other errors?"
"No."
"By the way, perfect score in Scripture?"
She asked with a faint smile. I nodded.
"Yes."
"You seem like you just slack off, but you ace exams. Weird."
It sounded like a joke. I just smiled.
Our friendly chat was interrupted.
"What the hell? You doing this on purpose?"
A threatening voice made Ha Ye-jin and me turn. In the corner, the teacher nicknamed "Baldy"—the one who'd inspected bags before—was arguing with Ma Yu-hyeon. "Baldy" was yelling.
Ma Yu-hyeon's affable smile hardened.
"Who does this on purpose? It's not my fault the pen didn't register."
"Hah! So you brought a pen that wouldn't register on purpose, punk?"
"No, who'd be crazy enough to do that on purpose? And I borrowed it from the staff room."
"Staff room? From who?"
"Do I have to remember every teacher's name? But I'll remember yours starting today."
"What? You little…!"
As their voices rose, the room fell silent. Teachers finally caught on and shooed students back to class. Realizing the tension, kids left without protest.
Ha Ye-jin suggested I head back too.
"Come back next break? Or lunch."
I shook my head.
"Can I wait a bit?"
"Sure?"
"I'll come back later then."
I nodded, pretended to leave, then dodged her gaze and snuck back. Time to watch Ma Yu-hyeon vs. Baldy.
They say the best show is a fight—and I was curious what sparked it.
"And what? Errors in the questions? What makes you think you can say that crap!"
"There's an error, so I say so. Does stating facts take guts?"
"You ghosted class for a month, what do you know about errors? People call you smart, so you think you're smarter than teachers?"
"At least smarter than you."
Ma Yu-hyeon said it with a smile—his usual slimy, infuriating one.
I personally hated Baldy. He'd been aggressive during bag checks, and he belittled students in class. Kids said, "Can't teach, shitty personality, and bald."
But I hated Ma Yu-hyeon too. Win-win fight.
I watched with unprecedented glee. As it heated up, Ha Ye-jin intervened.
"What are you doing? Students are here…"
"Hey, Ma Yu-hyeon. Who taught you to talk like that?"
"My grandpa. Want me to call him? Or phone him?"
Still no end. They ignored her, trading vulgar barbs.
I glanced at Ha Ye-jin. Her face had gone ice-cold.
Crack!
"Agh…!"
The fight stopped when she joint-locked Baldy's shin. He glared, face twisted red-purple. She stared down, unflinching—just biting her lip. Contempt in her eyes.
"Why do this lately? Over and over."
"…What the hell are you doing?!"
He bellowed, rubbing his shin. Teachers gawked.
Things were getting good.
In the heavy silence, Ha Ye-jin spoke crisply.
"That's what I want to say… I told you to stop, why not listen?"
"No, that's…"
"My words don't sound like words? Priest Jeon Myeong-hwan."
She emphasized "priest." Colleague as teachers, but she outranked him as clergy.
Baldy paled, looking up.
"…Sorry."
He bowed late. She smiled then.
"It's fine, just don't next time. And Ma Yu-hyeon."
"Yes?"
"Counseling room after class."
She stated it flatly, then strode to me in the corner.
Busted.
Her narrowed eyes pierced me; she beckoned. Bad vibe—I bowed and fled.
Whatever later, deal with it then. Talking to her now seemed unwise.
Anyway, why'd they fight? Just insults—no clues.
Fun show, good enough. Move on.
Next day, new provisionals. My 61st dropped to 62nd—and the fight's reason clicked.
(To be continued)