Fake Breast Scandal and Special Admission (3)
Note: The 'Revival' section at the end of the previous chapter has been revised.
Esdinas Academy West Terminal — Day 3 of Our Stay. Inside the Restaurant.
On the topic of winning over the heroines, Chang Yeom and I had been hashing out various strategies. Helping them out was a given, of course. And if the helper happened to be a handsome hunk with a killer physique? Jackpot.
Since I had to sculpt my body out of mana, I had two options for my appearance.
The most basic approach was to copy the protagonist's default look—the preset the developers had set for new players. It was a game with free customization, after all, so sticking with the factory default was totally viable.
But we nixed all that, and Chang Yeom and I reached a compromise.
"Why don't we base it on your original face and build, but style it like Regiph Hapsderk?"
Chang Yeom's memories weren't limited to her time as a player. My old face, my true form, even my real name—they were all fuzzy recollections in her mind now, same as mine.
"This was really my face and body?"
"Yep. Maybe it was the golden sun vibe, or maybe it just felt familiar yet nostalgic. Who knows."
She suggested a look that gave off "me cosplaying as Regiph" vibes, and I decided to enroll in the academy using the body she molded from mana.
"No matter how you slice it, this doesn't scream '17 years old,' does it? Kinda pushing the limits of conscience here."
"That's the good part~ ...It looks a bit more mature, which makes it perfect for 'certain actions.' See? Totally fine."
She talked me into it. If approaching the heroines in my current form caused issues with building rapport, I was ready to switch it up. But after checking via Unia, it seemed like no major problems.
Next issue: How to approach the heroines, help with their problems, and under what pretext or goal?
Chang Yeom had a dead simple answer.
"Just say you can see the future. Especially the Apocalypse. Foresight."
"How'd I know about that past event?"
"I saw it happen way back when."
"How'd I know he's the seed of the Apocalypse?"
"I saw him become the Apocalypse in the future."
"How'd I know his weakness is here?"
"Saw it in the future—yada yada."
Seeing the future. Plausibility? Ironclad.
But the side effects? If word got out I could see the future, people would swarm me with "What's this week's lotto jackpot?"
"I could tell you, but it'd cost me years off my life." Puhuhu. To curb that, we'd drop the lifespan line.
Worst case, I respawn anyway. But framing it that way would make even desperate future-seekers hesitate to bug me—except for the heroines, ideally.
Putting it all together: Looks. Mysterious power. Foresight.
And the result?
"You okay?"
"...I'm not so frail that I need this level of babying."
Right now, I've been sticking close to Unia for three days straight—close protection detail, except bathroom breaks. We're acting together constantly.
"Be careful. Don't strain yourself again."
"Don't you think you're being a bit overprotective?"
"Not at all. Here, open wide."
Unia expertly sliced my steak and set it in front of me with practiced ease.
Not my mom or anything.
I wanted to complain, but her doting had already warmed us up quite a bit, so I accepted graciously.
I'm footing the bill anyway, and she's bought into my 'prophecy' hook, line, and sinker.
To Unia, I'm a benefactor. Her academy dreams were dashed by her own choice, staying even a few days was impossible, crashing at the terminal was a stretch. I'm her one hope, her lifeline.
"Um, Phoenix?"
Unia flashed the hand signal we'd preset in the hotel room.
"Should I... give up on the academy?"
She dunked her bread in soup with a gloomy voice, head bowed.
She swirled her bread toward 3 o'clock and 11 o'clock. Targets sighted.
"Yeah, give it up. Rules are rules."
"......."
"I get it's a bummer, but you've got next year. Can't camp here for a whole year, right?"
"True, but..."
She milked the regret hard.
"So, Unia. If you could rewind to three days ago, would you have ditched the puking guy and bolted for the exam?"
"...No."
Thus, we subtly leaked our backstory: Specs good enough for admission, yet stuck here like rejects, stubbornly lingering.
"No regrets. If he'd been okay, or recovering, I'd have felt safe leaving. That's why I'm waiting."
The guy Unia saved was still bedridden. Beyond the poison, his appendix was twisted and burning like hell.
"Without a miracle, the academy gates won't open ri—"
Clapping erupted from the 3 o'clock table, followed by a lion's roar of a voice.
"That spirit! You've just wrought a miracle!!"
"Uh, excuse me...?"
Unia blinked in confusion. If not for her natural smile, sharp eyes might've caught the relief in it—"It actually worked."
"Ah, forgive my outburst! I'm Ederson Lionheart, Esdinas Academy's Academic Dean!"
"......Kyaa!"
Unia screamed a beat late.
"[Lion's Roar]?!"
"Haha! You know my old moniker from my active days. Quite the academy buff, eh?"
A towering musclebound warrior with lion-mane hair wore a suit—like the Lion King from that animal movie. I nearly cracked up, but this guy was no joke.
"Hmm...?"
I sized him up quick, top to bottom. He grinned instantly.
"Hoo."
His feral instincts clocked my appraisal in a flash.
"Interesting."
Once dubbed "Mercenary King," still packing S+-rank combat power—he wasn't one to hate eager young challengers. Neither were the other faculty at every table. Talented prospects were gold.
"You two aiming for the academy?"
"Y-yes."
"Flunked 'cause you helped someone and missed the exam?"
"Y-yeah."
"......."
Ederson tilted his head skyward.
"I'll use my 'passes' on them."
"Hold on!"
A blonde-suited woman at another table shot up.
"The dean's passes...!"
"The academy gates are right there, and these two embody our spirit more than anyone. How could I pass them up?"
"But...!"
"I'll square it with the imperial emperor myself. Buy him a drink, spar a round, apologize proper."
Ederson waved it off with a laugh, but faces paled around the room.
"Um... what...? What's...?"
"Truth is, we're trialing a very special class this year."
"Special class?"
Unia parroted with her innocent puppy eyes.
"Aye. 16 students. No limits on gender, age, education, status—just folks our instructors handpicked, lumped into one class."
"Wha... was there such a thing?"
"Nope! Brand new this year."
Probably cooked up yesterday.
"Some'll call it favoritism. Others backup admits. Or elite cartel, or 'talent-only special track.' Whatever."
Window dressing. Real goal: Cover up the Fake Breast Device scandals and canceled admits.
"So... total freshmen this year: 316?"
"You got it."
Short reply, big grin—but I caught the gap. 16 fake-boob culprits, locked away till graduation. Their seats? Filled by proxies.
"Welcome, future heroes. Shall we head to the academy?"
"......."
Unia glanced my way; I nodded big.
"Yes!"
No reason to refuse. It was the goal all along.
The class where every main and side character gathers.
Stories kick off inside the academy—
"Phoenix!"
Unia jumped up.
Squelch.
"We passed! Passed!!"
She charged and hugged me tight.
"......."
Startling, but not weird. Not over-the-top skinship from her—it was calculated, pre-planned.
"Unia. Can't... breathe."
"Ah, s-sorry! Got too excited."
She pulled back, scratching her cheek. The squeeze was surprise-level, but now everyone had it etched: We're a pair.
"If you're using passes on them, does that mean I get in too?"
"...How old are you, lad?"
"17."
"......."
Ederson narrowed his eyes, glaring. I met it, shrugged.
"Rolled in battlefields since I was a kid."
"......Hoo."
He grinned approval, turned.
"I'll take these two straight to campus now. Anyone else—"
"Dean?"
From a far table.
"I'll tag along."
Esta approached.
"These are the 'two' I mentioned."
"......!!"
Esta's words lit Ederson up; he clapped huge, whooping.
"Heavens! Bogged in tradition, we nearly missed these righteous heroes...?"
Even sniffing out fakes and halting exams, Unia would've run to help anyway.
"Follow me. Lunch on me—at the academy cafeteria."
One thing. Unia overlooked it briefly.
I foresaw the fake breast mess and special admits via "future sight."
But before that. Esta's visit, her "Don't give up"—Unia had forgotten its meaning.
Esta. How'd she know about the disqualifications and backups?
"......."
Walking ahead, I clocked the wristwatch on Esta's left wrist. Top-shelf maker, magic tool. Didn't fit her style.
Silverstar's.
Esta had some deal with Silverstar.
Truth: Fake Breast Devices. Silverstar's dark-web special, mass-produced and dumped.
Small mercy—
Yurha Silverstar has zero reason to fake boobs.
Fakes came from rivals gunning for Silverstar dominance.
This world. Not 100%, but 99.99% rule: Nice girls big, bad girls small.
Not all small ones villains. But most villains? Small.
Girls: C-cup.
Guys: '3.'
Full health baseline.
So if a guy gets rejected—