What They Call an Academy

Sunrise Academy.

The largest academic city in the world, nestled on the Korean Peninsula. It is the place where the raw gems once praised as geniuses and prodigies from every corner of the nation gather to compete, polish one another, and hone themselves—a forge of refinement, as some call it.

With its outstanding faculty, academic environment, and every resource imaginable for raising the greatest heroes, it is no exaggeration to say the academy has everything prepared.

And this magnificent place just happens to be in Korea. If that is a cliché of Korean novels, then so be it. Thanks to that damned national pride, anything important is always located here.

Some people might cheer that it elevates the country’s prestige, but from where I stand it looks more like a lawless zone where incidents never stop. The thought of a major disaster nearby tanking property values is enough to make me want to stay far away. On the flip side, every convenience is packed into one spot, so it is also an easy place to live.

The school rules here are simple.

The strong, the victors, decide everything. A pure meritocracy of the strong, a world of the survival of the fittest.

Whether it is conviction or a dream, power is required to achieve it. Money, connections, raw force—it does not matter which.

Prove you are strong. Use every means available to prove your worth. If you are the last one standing, you win.

Just do not cross the line into anything illegal.

People living in the twenty-first century would call that rule absurd, but I find it perfectly reasonable. And it is not just me—every adult with a functioning brain in this world thinks the same. Otherwise a rule like that would never have been approved.

Cross Mount Baekdu into Chinese territory and you will find places crawling with monsters. Government soldiers and private-sector hunters are constantly beating them down in real time; if they were not, this land would have become a monster farm long ago.

In other words, this is a world where you never know when you might die.

If you do not want to be treated like dog food by the bastards out there, getting stronger is a mandatory condition. The reason I entered the academy even though I really did not want to was to meet that same condition.

This world is both loose and strict with the Awakened. With special exceptions, minors under eighteen are strictly forbidden from using mana or skills outside designated zones. Use them anyway? You get a permanent red mark and become a criminal, no questions asked.

Too young? Immature? None of that matters. The country even hands out free limiters so immature kids cannot accidentally use mana or skills. Breaking through those and using your power means you committed the crime of your own free will.

Aside from sudden Awakening rampages, abusing power is never allowed under any circumstances. If parents try to defend their child, they get arrested too for failing at home education.

That is the kind of world this is.

Conversely, practice inside designated zones—where safety measures and personnel who can clean up after you are always on standby—is not only allowed but actively encouraged. Facilities can heal you the moment you get hurt during practice and even supply the nutrients needed for growth when you tire out.

In a world where monsters casually roam, the more talent the better.

To wield the unknown power called ability, you must also shoulder the responsibility that comes with it. In short: do not enjoy pleasure without responsibility.

I have heard that line so many times since childhood that my ears have calluses.

And what I am hearing right now is in a similar vein.

Welcome to the academy. You can live however the hell you want, but make sure you have the skills to back it up. If you do not like it, get stronger. Beat me and change the academic policy yourself. Finally, take responsibility for whatever you do. I have no hobby of babysitting fully grown brats who are not my kids. I will not cover for you. Do your best. End of speech.

—That concludes the principal’s address.

The man looked as if he had just returned from a resort—straw hat, aloha shirt, flip-flops slapping the floor with every step. The artistry of it was perfect. The finishing touch was the middle-aged guy casually waving and walking off before the narration even finished. I could only admire him. That old man never changes. And that made me envy him even more.

“I am so jealous.”

I want to grow up to be that kind of adult. Do nothing, get paid on time, and no one nags you about it. When trouble shows up, dump the cleanup on your subordinates, do only the bare minimum, and vanish. Look at that retreating back.

No matter how many times I thought about it, I was insanely jealous.

The people around me seemed to agree; a low murmur rose. If they had not announced beforehand that he was the principal, someone probably would have shouted for security about some random neighborhood uncle wandering in.

Anyway, the eventful story starts now.

—Cadets, please follow the guidance and move to your respective classes. Repeating: cadets, please…

Bzzzt.

The moment the announcement sounded, my pocket vibrated. It was the same for everyone else. I pulled out my device and found a notice waiting from the academy-exclusive app I had installed before enrollment.

“?”

What the hell? I deliberately used a parachute admission to stay away from the protagonist and avoid getting dragged into annoying trouble, and they dump me into S-Class? I thought this place was survival of the fittest. Is this even allowed? Are you people doing your jobs properly? Unbelievable.

“Sinwoo! Where are you? I got S—mph!?”

“Taewung, shh. Quiet.”

“Well done, Riri. Let’s go. Taewung-ssi, we need to grab seats early.”

“Huh? Uh, yeah…”

The protagonist, who had been about to advertise “I’m the best!” at the top of his lungs, was instantly surrounded by his harem members. Watching from a distance as he was seized by both arms and dragged off like a captured alien, I did not head to the classroom. I went to the faculty office instead.

For me it was the entrance ceremony, but for the other years it was the start of the term, so quite a few teachers were still around. I grabbed the first one I saw.

“Hm? What is it?”

“Where is the first-year teachers’ area?”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

“Uh… that way, but is something wrong?”

At the suspicious look he gave my neck, I pulled the navy necktie from my pocket and held it up.

“First year?”

I nodded. It was the simplest way to distinguish grades. First-years wore navy, second-years red, third-years checkered; next year the first-years would switch to checkered again. Since the electronic student ID already listed cohort and other information, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was mostly ceremonial.

“Yes. The notice I received seems a bit strange, so I wanted to ask about it.”

“Ah, I see.”

With a look that said he understood everything, the male teacher smirked and approached a woman sitting at a desk, manipulating a holographic display on her device.

Knock knock.

“Professor Yoon?”

“Yes, Teacher Kang.”

“They’re here again this year without fail. The student over there says he has something to say.”

“…Haa. Understood.”

The two of them openly sighed and spoke as if ignoring me. I narrowed my eyes slightly. The male teacher gave a bitter smile and beckoned me over.

“I’ll be going first, then. Second-years have sparring from first period.”

“Take care, Teacher Kang.”

“You too, student. Since it’s the school rule, make sure you wear the necktie on campus.”

Thump.

He tapped my shoulder once with the attendance book in warning and left.

I watched him go with one eye, then closed the distance to the desk. The woman called Professor Yoon hardened her expression and spoke coldly.

“Yes. I am Yoon Jiyoung, in charge of the first-years. What is your purpose, cadet?”

Shoulder-length brown hair, blue eyes. After confirming the blue ring on her index finger, I opened my device and showed her the notice.

“I believe there has been a mistake with the notice.”

“No. The contents of the notice are accurate. It is the result of multiple conditions being met, and the decision has already been finalized. Changes are impossible.”

Professor Yoon Jiyoung did not even properly look at the contents; she just glared at me as she spoke. Apparently she had been hounded by kids who could not accept their ranks. I did not like being lumped in with those types, but I could not back down either.

If things continued like this I would get tangled up with the protagonist. I would get dragged into insanely annoying trouble. This was a matter of life and death for me.

“I’m telling you it’s a mistake. A parachute student landing in S-Class? Does that make any sense? Drop me down already.”

“So no matter how much you beg, raising your rank is—wait, what?”

“I said lower it. My rank.”

“???”

At my words Professor Yoon’s face went blank, like a pigeon hit by a BB pellet. She kept checking whether she had really heard correctly, which was pretty funny. Then she put on the glasses lying beside her and began examining the device I held out in detail.

Had she been squinting at me this whole time just because her eyesight was bad? The moment she put the glasses on, her expression softened instantly.

“Really… S-Class… why?”

“That’s what I’m saying. It doesn’t make sense. My ranking is outside the top five hundred and I’m in S? I know my place perfectly well.”

Without answering, she muttered something and stared at the device for a long time. Suddenly her eyes flew wide open and she began looking back and forth between my face and the device.

“Jang Sinwoo, Jang Sinwoo… Jang? Doctor Jang of Project Exile?”

“Fuck?”

My brow twisted reflexively and a curse burst out.

Hearing that here, of all places. Was this woman connected to the research institute? Why did I not remember her name? First I had to shut that mouth. I clamped a hand over Professor Yoon’s lips just as she was about to open them wide and shout something, then glared down at her and spoke in a low voice.

“Code 2.”

“…!!”

Her face drained of color and she shook her head frantically.

If she was smart enough to know I had been at the institute, she would understand what I meant.

The code I used was a government signal. Number 2 meant confidential information had leaked and needed to be handled.

In other words: if you do not want to vanish without a trace for leaking classified information, watch your mouth.

I removed my hand, confirmed she had swallowed and calmed down, then asked,

“Are you involved?”

“Y-yes. I am involved, at least.”

“Then why the hell did you say that out loud?”

“…Since last week the information grade dropped to Level 3. The mass-production experiments were all complete successes, so the project contents are about to be announced.”

“Ah.”

That made sense. The problem was that I had not known. Most likely I had found the report emails annoying, stashed them away, and left them to rot.

I had checked them diligently a few times, but later even that became a hassle so I just told them to handle it themselves. I had even stamped the approval signatures with a seal like a smartphone fingerprint scan and completely forgotten.

…And that snowball had rolled all the way back here. I would look into it later. The important thing was something else.

“Anyway, leave that aside. Why am I S?”

“On the contrary, Doctor, if you are not S, who would be?”

She shot back as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I smacked my forehead.

She even looked at me as if asking what the problem was. The whole situation was a spectacle. Who the hell did she think she was messing with?

“Is this a research institute? This is an academy. The place where the ones who fight well become top dog, right?”

“Uh… well, there are research facilities too, but…”

As my brow grew even more ferocious she squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head to avoid my gaze.

Oh, so now you dodge? You dodge?? Fine. I should have realized it the moment the academy begged me to enroll.

I never expected them to screw me over like this. I let out a sigh. Then a good idea suddenly struck me. Right—I was a parachute student. So if I just buried myself in a research lab, no one could really yell at me, could they? And if my class rank dropped for poor attendance, even better.

I could do my work, earn money, and legally skip class—all in one big picture. I slapped my knee. Mentally, of course. I nodded to myself in complete agreement.

“Is it really impossible?”

“W-well… yes… I can’t do it either.”

“…Understood. Sorry for the trouble, Professor.”

“Huh? What? No, wait—”

At my sudden change in attitude Professor Yoon Jiyoung stared blankly, completely lost. I put strength into both eyes and made a zipper-sealing gesture across my lips.

She nodded reflexively in acceptance. Once I confirmed that, I left the faculty office.

Quite a few gazes followed me, but I deliberately ignored them.

Fuck… this is all tangled up.

If I entered S-Class the protagonist would start drawing aggro again. Attention would naturally focus, and only I would get stuck with the annoying fallout. I needed a countermeasure. Since aggro was inevitable, it would be better to isolate myself completely in a different direction.

Having decided on a policy, I nodded.

Right. Enter as late as possible. If I walked in so tightly that no one had a chance to speak to me, things would be easier. Still, getting openly marked by a teacher would be no different from taking off my rank insignia and challenging them to a fight, so I sat down on the stairs near the classroom and waited so I could go in right away.

Click-clack.

How long had I been there? I was bored enough to consider opening my device and looking up materials on what I had just heard when someone who looked like a teacher appeared from the far end.

Our eyes met. Not a casual glance—it lasted a while.

“…?”

Then she narrowed her eyes as if she had seen something bizarre. Why? Was there something on my face? I brushed my cheek, but nothing came off on my hand.

Feeling awkward for no reason, I gave a stiff nod as a greeting first. She did not seem to mind and returned the greeting.

…What the hell was that really about?

It looked like she was about to enter the classroom immediately, so I timed it and opened the door as well. I had expected some attention, but for some reason everyone was collapsed over their desks, completely exhausted.

What? I gave a half-hearted wave back to the protagonist, the only one waving at me, then went and sat in an empty seat at the back.

Almost at the same moment the woman took her place at the podium, the half-dried-out kids began standing up one by one.

Thud!

“Everyone, attention.”

Whoosh—!

It was not a loud voice. But the words, laced with mana, carried a strange suction that made everyone in the classroom look at her.

“You must all have been surprised by the sudden incident.”

At those words everyone either groaned or averted their eyes. Very few students looked at the teacher with confidence. What the hell actually happened while I was gone?

“Although it was only a dummy created with illusion magic and holograms, it was shaped and directed by a first-class illusionist. So do not feel too dejected just because you could not show your good side.”

This incident will not be reflected in exams or grades.

With that I roughly understood what had happened. Of course. At a meritocracy school, orientation could never be ordinary. The protagonist’s group had probably teamed up with friends and put on a flashy debut performance.

“My name is Hong Su-ah. A former hunter, better known to you as Balsam. From today I will be teaching you, so I look forward to working with you.”

Everyone applauded as Hong Su-ah bowed her head.

Balsam, huh…

Balsam was an epithet. Not something ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you claimed yourself—more like a title the system bestowed. Once your fame reached a certain level, you received the most fitting moniker based on your trajectory so far.

For monsters it was the equivalent of becoming a Named.

Not particularly important. It was just that hearing such words spoken in a serious tone by someone who looked so cool created a serious cognitive dissonance. Proof that the water of my previous life had not fully drained yet.

So what next? Straight into class? Or dismissal as is? Personally I hoped she would just send us away.

I needed to show my face at the research lab once and then head straight to the dorm to rest.

“From today’s events you all learned how important a solid combat system is in an emergency, correct? With that in mind, in attendance-number order, introduce yourselves with your name, job, desired position, and specialty.”

At those words I closed my eyes. It was the self-introduction time I had dreaded. Ah, right. Self-introductions are fine. Even outside of novels, anyone who has done a bit of social living can handle them.

“Attendance number 1, Kim Gang-chan. Job is Wandering Knight, desired position is overall vanguard. Specialty is being able to handle both sword and spear.”

The problem was that this world was completely different from my previous life.

Yes, you have probably figured it out by now. In this world a “job” does not mean doctor, prosecutor, or judge. It means the “true calling” a person receives the moment they Awaken.

Because the foundation of societal development is concentrated on hunting and gathering, what people show off naturally differs. Unfortunately, that is the standard self-introduction for this life.

One by one the greetings finished, and finally it was our protagonist’s turn.

“Attendance number 17, Ban Taewung. Job is Indomitable Warrior of Reversal, desired position is damage-tank. Specialty is being able to cut magic.”

The reason I had decided this guy was the protagonist was exactly that job.

No matter how disadvantageous the situation, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he never yields and always finds a path to reverse it. On top of that he possesses the job-unique skill Reverse Counter, which returns every attack he has taken so far at double power—an insane performance.

The moment I confirmed that, I knew this guy was the protagonist.

When everyone else has given up because they cannot win, he rises without breaking and fights. He reaches the very end and returns every attack to seize victory.

“Next.”

“Attendance number 18…”

It was exactly the kind of guaranteed-win formula only protagonists get. Once his job level rose, even more broken skills would probably pop out.

“Next.”

“A-attendance number 19…”

With good luck he might obtain excellent items in dungeons, or even catch a god’s eye and receive protection. That is just how protagonists are. They grow through trials and then smash the power inflation that follows one after another.

“Next.”

At Hong Su-ah’s word I stood. The gazes gathering on me were unpleasant. Eyes that seemed to be appraising me. Some even looked puzzled, as if wondering whether someone like me had been here.

I let out a short sigh and looked at the immature kid up front who was sparkling his eyes and mouthing “Fighting!” at me.

Fine. Everything was fine. Everyone’s attention was focused on me. Perfect for branding a first impression.

I controlled my own heart. Right now I was in a body going through puberty. I was a rebel.

Being reborn into this crazy world against my will was already shitty enough—did I really need to dance to their tune?

I was clearly the victim. It was fine to feel wronged. The moment I resolved that from the bottom of my heart, pointless defiance surged up.

It was the contrarian streak I had carried since my previous life.

“Attendance number 20, Jang Sinwoo. Job is Academy Cadet, hobbies are reading and sleeping. Let’s all just take care of ourselves so we don’t bother each other. That’s all.”

Thud.

I sat right back down.

…

Silence. The space that had been relatively warm until a moment ago went deathly quiet. No—beyond quiet, it even grew chilly. The only bright thing in that silence was our protagonist.

Clap clap clap!!

The way he clapped with zero social awareness was pure art. The other kids eventually joined in, but Hong Su-ah was still staring at me.

“Jang Sinwoo. This moment is extremely important. It is an opportunity to share information that will be useful for the upcoming selection matches and team assignments without prejudice. Yet you have just thrown that opportunity away yourself.”

It was stiff. But at the same time it was correct. Her words were sound. Still, I did not want to. I answered without looking away from her eyes.

“At the same time, they will also be future competitors, right?”

Hong Su-ah nodded at my question. If her words were sound, then so were mine. In this world the only thing you can trust is yourself. No matter how much school is a microcosm of society, this place is no ordinary school.

Everyone is both an enemy and a tool to be used. Those who realized that again began murmuring with sharp expressions.

“Certainly, hiding one’s own information is also a way to gain the upper hand in information warfare. There is some logic to it, but it is also pessimistic enough to crack the progress of the class. From now on people will appear who hide or falsify their information during self-introductions. Thanks to you, cadet.”

Hong Su-ah stepped down from the podium and walked steadily toward me. Naturally every gaze focused in my direction. Unfriendly stares everywhere. That was also the result I had wanted.

“However, there is one thing the cadet has overlooked. I ordered self-introductions in this place. Despite that, the cadet caused enough confusion to disrupt class progress and took an uncooperative attitude. If this continues I will have no choice but to punish you as an educator.”

Hong Su-ah gathered mana again and spoke.

“Stand, Jang Sinwoo. And answer properly. The first opportunity must be given equally to everyone.”

“…Is that a doctrine of the Church of the Radiant Sun?”

“Yes.”

The Church of the Radiant Sun. A sacred organization that exists in this world. To summarize simply: they cry out that a system giving equal opportunity to all is proof of the gods and their grace, and they proclaim the sun god Astral—not Jesus—as their main deity.

In previous-life terms they are close to Christians. Because of the power of status windows they can actually wield divine power, so the strength and meaning they hold differ greatly from my previous life, but the foundation is similar.

The name reeks of cult, yet surprisingly more than eighty percent of the world’s population trusts this religion. That is how famous—and how taken for granted—it is.

Among the doctrines the Church of the Radiant Sun puts forward, the very first is “an equal first for everyone.”

Since the gods bestowed the grace of the system upon us, it is right that they too bestow equal grace at the beginning. That is why believers of the Church of the Radiant Sun place great meaning on the first.

To blaspheme or distort that is, to them, the same as blasphemy against the divine, and at the same time the same as throwing down a gauntlet of hostility.

In other words, she was saying this to me right now: Are you going to do it properly, or are you going to fight me?

“Ha.”

A laugh escaped on its own. As the atmosphere froze murderously, the surroundings quieted as well.

I stood from my seat and met her gaze. My height was by no means short, yet our eyes were almost level.

I looked down at her slightly; she looked up at me slightly. That was the only difference.

“Defiance?”

I did not answer. I simply smiled faintly. I narrowed the corners of my eyes a little, lowered my brows, and lifted the corners of my mouth.

I was satisfied with how naturally my facial muscles moved. The reflection of myself in Hong Su-ah’s blazing dark-red eyes wore a friendly, salesman’s smile.

“Jang Sinwoo. Summoner. Specialty is speed-reading. I just really like books.”

“…Fine. From now on do it before I have to step in myself.”

“Understood clearly, Instructor.”

“I am not an instructor. I am a teacher.”

Is that so? The atmosphere was pure elite drill-instructor military.

With those final words Hong Su-ah turned her back and returned to the podium. I also wiped away the smile and watched her back with a blank expression. Could I do it? No. With my current ability it was impossible. Both mana and combat power were lacking.

So what choice did I have? I had to submit. This was a place where the strong could take everything. As a weakling I had to do as I was told.

“The atmosphere has become unsettled, but we will continue. Next.”

Using the voices of my classmates that rose with her words as BGM, I propped my chin on my hand and looked out the window.

The damnably clear weather sparkled brilliantly, as if celebrating our enrollment.