It's Called an Academy (10)

Looking at it like this, Growl’s growth rate was nothing short of miraculous. In his case I’d only given him a little help at the very beginning; after that he’d handled everything himself—a self-made success story. Maybe that was why raising him had been so easy; he barely needed any hand-holding.

“Better finish up and head back.”

I pulled out my device and checked the time. Class had ended ages ago. I’d burned a full four hours inside this dungeon alone. Outside, the sky was probably starting to turn the color of sunset by now.

Just like with Hive, I tapped the [Evolution Possible] prompt. A list unfurled at once.

“...Plenty of choices this time too.”

There seemed to be even more options than when Hive had evolved. That made sense—the more experience you piled up, the wider the selection grew. Hive had been half-raised inside a barrier like livestock; Growl had been left free to roam. Of course his list would be longer.

I decided to check them one by one from the top.

[Berserk Wolf] was a wolf that craved battle and blood. It reacted violently to the scent of blood; the more blood it took from its enemies, the higher its stats climbed. The longer a fight dragged on, the faster its stamina recovered. Blood was a restriction, sure, but if the condition was met it would gain overwhelming attack power and staying power.

“Keep.”

Next was [Assault Wolf]. Where Berserk Wolf needed blood as a trigger, Assault Wolf simply received bonuses from the act of combat itself. True to the “attack specialization” label, every attack seemed built around charging and sprinting.

“...Shame.”

This one was out. What I wanted was a solid front-liner who could also dish out damage now and then. Assault Wolf felt more like a pure attacker that dove into enemy lines and stirred chaos. My own stamina wasn’t endless enough to keep up with a summon that recovered everything as long as it had mana.

“Next.”

[Giant Fang]. Exactly what it sounded like—a giant wolf. It didn’t change much from what Growl already did; it just scaled everything up in a balanced way. Safe and solid. Not bad at all.

“Keep this one too.”

Next, [Double Header]. A two-headed wolf, plain and simple. On paper that meant extra attacks equal to the extra head. If the evolution path continued, maybe something like the three-headed monster from myth—Cerberus—would show up eventually. As pure build-up it looked more exciting than Giant Fang, but the drawbacks seemed to outweigh the perks. Felt like a meme pick.

“Next.”

[Fire Wolf]. A wolf whose body was made of flame. This one had clearly been influenced by The Burner. Thanks to that title, my mana carried a faint fire attribute. Continuous exposure must have unlocked the option. Firepower looked better than Assault Wolf’s, but pure flame meant zero physical presence—no tanking role possible. I’d leave that job to whatever new dealer I recruited later. Pass.

“Last one.”

[Hunted]. Think hunting dog, wolf edition. Specialized in tracking a target down, latching on, and draining its strength through relentless pursuit.

“Hmm.”

Honestly, my heart was already leaning hard toward Berserk Wolf. I’d already tasted the power boost that came from Growl’s existing Wild Nature skill, so the idea of more of that pulled me in. The only thing holding me back was that the trigger was locked entirely on “blood.”

This world was strange enough that the word “incredible” slipped out on its own. There were things that ignored the cycle of life as if it were natural, yet still counted as living. I didn’t want to watch Growl get wrecked helplessly the moment he faced a bloodless enemy.

“...Guess there’s no choice.”

For bloodless foes I’d just have to count on the next summons I brought in. Honestly I was too tired for my brain to work properly right now.

“Select.”

Just like with Hive, a vision played. From the darkness a wolf emerged, red eyes gleaming. Its body was white and crimson overall—exactly like blood spilled across a snowfield. That wasn’t just my imagination.

Where Growl’s fighting style had been built around biting, the Berserk Wolf in the vision was pure brawling. Its claws were optimized for carving flesh; its teeth were serrated like saw blades, made for deep wounds. Watching it move with those weapons was watching a battle maniac in action. The more it got hit, the harder it hit back. It tore open enemy wounds and quenched its thirst for combat with the flowing blood.

The vision ended. At the same moment a crimson aura erupted from Growl’s body. His fur bleached pure white, then dark blood-red began to stain it like something dirtying the snow.

“Woof!”

His sharp face was a carbon copy of the vision, but his personality remained pure Growl. His body had grown to more than three times the size of a large dog; if he stood up he could easily cover my entire frame.

“Kyiiing, kyiiing.”

Even grown that huge, he still acted like an endlessly obedient puppy toward me. It was pretty funny. I scratched his fully exposed belly while checking the system messages that followed.

Watching the cascade of skill gains and mutations, I could only stare at Growl with a thoroughly fed-up expression.

“This skill set is actually dangerous.”

The trait [Bloodletting] forced any wound Growl inflicted to bleed continuously. [Blood Feast] raised his stats the more blood he consumed, just as described. [Deep Wound] hindered healing on injuries he caused and, if left alone, made the wounds tear open even wider—creating insane synergy with Bloodletting.

Even a playful scratch from this guy might turn into something that couldn’t be laughed off. No matter how tiny the cut, it would keep widening, keep growing, keep spilling more blood.

The newly acquired [Berserker’s Fighting Style] reduced incoming damage while raising the chance of landing critical hits on counterattacks. [Battle Ecstasy] let him fight longer without tiring and recover faster even when he did. The two skills synergized beautifully.

I could no longer expect the party-wide stat boost from Howling, but in exchange I’d gained rock-solid damage and tanking. Even without the blood-based power-up, he was already strong enough to show off.

“Good enough.”

“Woof!”

I thumped his head a few times. His tail swished back and forth—he was clearly happy. He didn’t thrash around like before; evolution seemed to have given him a bit of dignity.

Growl’s post-evolution stats were powerful.

Compared to the balanced Hive, his Strength was overwhelmingly high. Beyond the raw numbers, the skill synergy was terrifying. At this point Growl could probably butcher a Grid Goblin in under a minute.

Watching him transform this much from a single evolution left me speechless. The difference between races was that scary.

Last came the first reward I’d received: the <Shining Random Draw Ticket (E)>.

The moment I thought about using it, a gacha machine and slot-machine status window—things I’d seen plenty of in my past life—took the place of the usual interface. A lever appeared inside the window and began to sparkle.

On the side of the lever, neon-style letters flashed: <Pull down with all your might!>. The simplest, clearest instruction possible. I made a skeptical face. It was so blatant it actually felt suspicious.

Not like I can just leave it unused...

I sighed and put my hand on the lever. Better to deal with it here in an empty dungeon than leave it sitting around and attract weird aggro. Besides, I had no idea how far the mastermind’s eyes reached—that alone made me uneasy.

Clunk!

Ding-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling~

I pulled the lever. Upbeat BGM kicked in and the capsules inside spun like a lottery drum. One of the multicolored capsules dropped into the chute below, and both machine and lever vanished without a trace.

“Red one.”

The white-and-red combo reminded me of a certain pocket-monster ball.

Come to think of it, did this world even have novels or comics? With mana and status windows treated as everyday things, the historical accuracy and descriptions that had always felt lacking in my past life would probably be way better here. I’d been so buried in research and status windows that I’d neglected the important stuff—entertainment. Once I had free time, looking into it wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Crack.

I twisted the capsule open. Light flashed, the capsule vanished, and a single black glove appeared.

“A glove?”

I couldn’t tell the material, but the stretch and texture were excellent. At first it looked plain, but a closer look revealed black embroidery near the wrist that resembled a thorn vine. Black material with black embroidery—definitely made by some black-obsessed freak.

Curious what kind of freak had crafted it, I checked the item info.

“...?”

What I’d obtained was something I never would have expected to find in a place like this.

The stats alone from simply equipping it were insane, and the item’s own performance was so ridiculous that calling it merely “Elite” felt absurd.

The moment I understood the true nature of the glove in my hand, the emotion that hit me was irritation. Heat rose; I roughly scratched my itchy scalp and spat out a sigh like I was chewing it.

“Couldn’t you at least try to be subtle about it?”

The System was the will of the world—in other words, almost certainly connected to a god. Hell, it might as well be a god itself. Giving me the disease and then the medicine? What the hell was this? “You passed the trial, so here’s your reward”?

From where I stood, the whole gacha just now had felt like a show put on for display.

How else could something that fit me so perfectly, that I needed so badly, drop like this? And what pissed me off most was exactly how good the glove was.

With this thing I could use Shadow—an inexhaustible resource—to endlessly generate weapons or armor. Which also meant: “You’re going to be rolling around a lot from now on, so get ready to work your ass off.”

“Hahk, ptoo! Fuck...”

The worst part was that even knowing that, I was in no position to refuse.

Nausea rose. I spat out the sour taste that kept welling up and put the glove on. A searing, stinging pain flared around my wrist as if branded by fire, and the black glove burned away in an instant.

What remained was a thorn-vine tattoo around my wrist. Interwoven like chains in both directions, it looked exactly like the shackles of a chain.

The instant the tattoo settled perfectly into place, information branded itself into my mind. Using it became as natural as moving my own hands and feet.

No time to learn—straight onto the front lines? It felt like a brand declaring I could never escape labor. I roughly rubbed my wrist and ground my teeth.

“I’m not letting this slide. Just you wait.”

One punch wouldn’t be enough. They kept fanning the flames, so damn confident we’d never meet. Fine. Let’s see how far this goes. I’ve lived long enough to know there’s no such thing as “never” in this world.

I swallowed my anger and walked straight out of the dungeon.

My head already hurt; adding a foul mood on top made a real headache set in. Pressing my throbbing temples, I sent Colonel Nickel a brief summary of the day’s events, then returned to the dorm, washed up, and collapsed face-first onto the bed.

Calls and messages were pouring in like crazy, but I just shot back “tired” and ignored the rest. I’d set it to silent, yet something still rang through—probably the government’s emergency line. I simply powered the device off completely.

Dealing with the god-bastard’s antics was already enough to drive me insane; I didn’t want to get jerked around by anyone else on top of that. Especially not by the one who’d be thrilled to hear this information.

“I’m exhausted...”

With things like this, what the hell was entertainment even supposed to be? Fuck. Lately everything had been this kind of shit. It felt exactly like getting rehired by the black-company hellhole I’d worked at in my past life, and the mood was foul.

I would’ve killed for a drink, but this world was ridiculously strict about underage drinking. Get caught and it was straight to jail.

If I just increased the number of summons a bit more, could I escape this suffering? Let the kids run wild, flip on infinite auto-hunting, and sit back sucking honey while I rested.

Just imagining it eased the headache a little. My whole body felt heavy; tomorrow’s muscle pain was guaranteed. And according to the schedule, tomorrow’s class was tournament sparring. I’d fight just enough and then lose. Nothing too much, nothing too little—just right down the middle.

And also... ah... what was it again...

My thoughts grew duller and duller. I didn’t fight the sleep that was closing my vision; I simply gave up thinking and sank into sleep.

Beep... beep...

“Haa.”

He’d tried the line, but there was no response. A sigh escaped on its own. High probability the device itself had been powered off. Realizing that, Nickel—Kim Hui-gun—rubbed his face with a complicated expression.

A soft giggling sound came from beside him, as if his look was amusing.

Startled by the sudden noise, Kim Hui-gun snapped his head around and immediately snapped into a rigid posture, facing the open video call. When his eyes met the golden ones shimmering between pure platinum-white hair, his throat tightened as if strangled; he swallowed a small breath just to keep the air flowing.

The husky voice that made anyone listening feel its charm made Kim Hui-gun’s entire body tense. He felt like prey standing before ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a predator. It was a natural pressure that came from the difference in species, beyond reason or logic.

And this was without even meeting her in person.

No—how many people in this world could face her and exchange words calmly? At least he couldn’t. That was why Kim Hui-gun treated the boy twenty years his junior, Jang Sinwoo, with such meticulous respect.

It wasn’t simply because the boy was a national asset.

The way Sinwoo repeatedly faced the impossible head-on and still survived with shameless composure made him someone worthy of respect regardless of age.

But that was that, and this was this. In the end, the one who dealt with monsters was also a monster. Feeling that truth cut deep once more, Kim Hui-gun lowered his head and eyes, praying the sparks wouldn’t fly his way.

“...Yes, ma’am. The last signal came from his dorm room, and the housemother confirmed the Doctor entered, so I don’t believe it’s anything serious.”

Even as she said it, the woman twirled a strand of her hair around a fingertip and pouted her lips. A faint flush rose on her translucent skin. Her moist lips caught the light and sparkled; every slight twist of her body seemed laced with coquetry.

It looked exactly like a lovestruck girl sulking at her lover—but Kim Hui-gun knew better.

That woman—no, the “something” wearing a woman’s skin—was simply bored because things weren’t going her way, and she wanted to see something even a little entertaining. That was why she wore that expression.

Kim Hui-gun forced himself to ignore the muscles that were tensing against his will and circulated mana to relax them, letting out a short sigh. As long as she loved this world, every living thing born into it felt goodwill toward her.

He’d suffered more than once or twice under that curse-like, twisted form of blessing. But there was a perfect antidote that suited her well. Clearing his throat, Kim Hui-gun spoke before it was too late.

“Director, please refrain from tormenting your subordinates out of mere curiosity. If I make a fool of myself here, I’ll get scolded by my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wife when I get home.”

Her course of action was decided solely by whether something was fun or not. To stay out of her favor, one had to stay out of her interest entirely.

“Codename Nickel. I’d appreciate it if you at least remembered the names of personnel deployed on operations...”

“Two years ago, right after I was promoted to colonel.”

With those words the girl’s expression cooled instantly. The coquettish act vanished; the overflowing humanity from moments ago disappeared without a trace, replaced by the look of a finely crafted doll.

“...Thank you.”

But Kim Hui-gun couldn’t relax easily. If her gaze until now had been that of someone looking at a toy, now it was the gaze of someone looking at an ant she could crush at any moment.

“You flatter me.”

He knew. He still clearly remembered the end of the man who, despite already being married, neglected his family and harbored dark designs toward her. The colleague who had watched it with his own eyes had spent days trembling in fear, preaching with near-madness about the sin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of NTR and the nobility of pure love.

For the record, a few days later that colleague regained his senses and remembered nothing of what he’d done. But the memory left in his body couldn’t be erased; even the letter “N” of NTR was enough to make him foam at the mouth and scan the surroundings with a haunted, vicious expression.

Thanks to that, the incident had become a near-taboo secret even within the classified unit he belonged to—something everyone quietly avoided mentioning.

“Yes. Of the twenty-six dungeons inside the Academy, irregularities were found in one B-rank, three C-ranks, and one D-rank. We have successfully cleared every dungeon except the remaining B-rank.”

“Yes. Just like the Goblin’s Lair the Doctor discovered, these incidents only occurred in dungeons that mentioned the Evil God. The information that they do not reappear in the next dungeon after a single clearing also matches.”

She meant the external dungeons distributed across Korea, not the ones inside the Academy. The woman touched her lips with a look of genuine interest and pondered for a moment. Then she spoke, almost casually.

“...”

She intended to leave one deliberately as bait. Kim Hui-gun was not so naive that he missed the implication.

“Understood.”

Those words were not a suggestion; they were an order. She had decided, so he would follow. If the Republic of Korea still lived under a constitutional monarchy, she was more than capable of becoming king and placing the world beneath her feet.

Yet she had not taken the presidency. She had no attachment to the position of president. The reason was extremely simple: it was bothersome and boring.

At the same time, she hated the idea of anyone standing above her, so she had dismissed the previous president and installed the current one in the empty seat. The current president had sold his soul to her in exchange for that seat.

It was a fact known only to an extremely small number of people even within the classified unit.

No—practically everyone who knew the truth of that incident had been forced to choose between death or entering the classified unit and having all social information erased.

She had granted the current president freedom within the bounds of not encroaching on her domain, and the current president had used her as his backer to squeeze the festering pus out of the rotten National Assembly and replace it with something new.

All of it had been accomplished in a mere five years.

Seven years ago, when the nationwide dungeon rampages had occurred and the lawmakers responsible had cut their tails, shifted blame onto one another, and pretended not to know, a grieving beast who had lost her family had cursed the world and made a contract with a dragon.

The dragon, wanting to relieve its boredom, had gladly accepted.

As a result the Republic of Korea had become cleaner, but the aftermath had bankrupted three of the world’s leading conglomerates, all of which had been absorbed under her. There had never been a moment without a bloodbath in the process.

Mountains of corpses, seas of blood.

No one knew the truth of the incident. No one was allowed to know. Those who had tried to uncover it without understanding had either died or become her limbs. There had been no good or evil in it.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Those who had tried to learn the dark side of the king could no longer live the ordinary lives in which they had once harbored curiosity.

That was why she was a tyrant. Everything was decided by her interest. At the same time she was a sage king. She loved this world more than anyone else in it.

That was why Kim Hui-gun could not stop the cold sweat running down his back. It was exactly the same as back then. The smile she had worn when she took in the beast. On her face sat a smile so beautiful it could steal the heart of anyone who saw it.

“...There will be a bloodbath.”

Endlessly, new things kept appearing to entertain her. Looking at her expression—like someone who had received an unexpected surprise gift—Kim Hui-gun earnestly prayed that civilian casualties would be as few as possible.