The Life Cube (1)

Thursday.

During the break between classes, I pulled Shin Byung-cheol out into the hallway.

"Eh? What's up? You need somethin'?"

"You remember that promising prospect I mentioned a while back?"

"Yeah, what about her?"

"The druid prospect on the Guild side. Which class is she in?"

"Ah~ Park Na-ri? Right next door, Class 2. She's over there, see."

I stole a glance into Class 2. A girl who looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠painfully shy sat in her seat, apart from everyone else.

While the other students clustered together in twos and threes, chattering away, she was set off by herself like a castaway on a remote island, playing with the cat on her desk. When she twirled a ballpoint pen through the air, the cat swatted at its tip over and over, like a fighter working a punching bag.

According to Shin Byung-cheol, that seemingly timid girl was the Guild Coalition's most powerful prospect — Park Na-ri.

And the palm-sized cat on her desk was, as it turned out, a tiger under a reduction spell.

The moment I fixed my gaze on Park Na-ri, Shin Byung-cheol's eyes narrowed by degrees, a sleazy smile creeping across his face.

"Oho, interested, are we? Want me to call her over?"

"No. No need to call her."

'I'll make her come to me.'

At this distance, it would be more than enough.

I took out the [Life Cube].

At the sight of the box, which brought a miniature jungle to mind, curiosity bloomed all over Shin Byung-cheol's face.

"Whoa... what is that thing? Looks like one seriously valuable item."

"Later. Right now, you're going to do a little acting with me."

"Acting, is it? Well, when it comes to acting, you simply can't leave out the great Shin Byung-cheol. What do I need to do?"

The moment I lifted the cube's lid, a fresh green ripple spread outward.

Inside, naturally, it was completely empty.

"Let's say this box contains a great many fascinating things."

"It really does. I could stare into it all day and never tire of it."

"Ah!"

A short cry rang out from behind us — Park Na-ri, in all likelihood.

I grabbed Shin Byung-cheol as he started to turn and guided his half-twisted head back into place.

"Don't look back there."

"...Aha. Say no more. I gotcha now."

He'd caught on to at least half of my intent, because he threw himself into the performance. Not that the performance amounted to much more than studiously peering into an empty cube.

We held that pose for a few seconds.

- tap, tap.

Something small prodded at my leg.

When I glanced down, Park Na-ri's cat had planted its front paws against it. The size said kitten, plain and simple, but look closely at the pattern of its fur and it ran unmistakably closer to a tiger.

Shin Byung-cheol, noticing a beat late, flinched in surprise.

"Huh? When did she get all the way over here?"

'Right on schedule.'

The distinctive wave a Life Cube gives off. Animals tend to react to that sort of thing more keenly than people do — and all the more so for a spirit beast that had spent long years accumulating mana in its body.

I had expected it to pick up the pulse from a distance and come trotting over. Watching it approach would only put it on its guard, so I played ignorant until it touched me first.

The cat met my eyes and, keeping one front paw planted on my leg, pointed at the Life Cube with the other.

When I gave the cube a gentle shake and asked,

"You want this?"

"Myaow."

It let out a short cry that sounded remarkably like a yes.

I bent my knees and crouched down until the cube and the cat were at the same height. The cat lifted the lid a crack, then wedged itself inside, curling up with a satisfied rumble of a purr.

'She's gone and taken the whole place on lease.'

They say cats lose their minds over boxes — apparently tigers weren't so different.

"Beomi! No!"

Park Na-ri came sprinting over, breathless, in pursuit of her runaway companion. I made a point of wearing my most troubled expression.

Park Na-ri launched straight into her apologies.

"Um, I— I'm sorry. I'll get her out right away!"

She coaxed gently at the closed Life Cube, but,

"Beomi, come on, let's go. You're not supposed to go inside things like that."

The cat seemed utterly delighted with its new resting quarters.

When Park Na-ri flung the lid halfway open, a tiny front paw shot out through the gap and slapped her hand away. Two more attempts met with the same failure.

Keeping my troubled face firmly in place, I spoke up.

"I have to head into class soon. I'd appreciate it if you took her with you."

"...I'm really sorry."

Park Na-ri, near tears, apologized all over again. Then she drew a deep breath, threw the Life Cube wide open, thrust both hands inside, and seized the cat.

The cat bit mercilessly at the hands that held her.

'That's a nasty temper she's got.'

Still, she wasn't biting in earnest, and even when slapping hands away she never put her claws out — which suggested she and her owner were bonded in their own way after all.

Anyway, she was caught; all that remained was getting her out —

"...!"

Then Park Na-ri's movements froze solid. A flicker of astonishment crossed that face that had seemed nothing but timid. In the short time available, she gave the cube a much closer, more thorough once-over.

'She noticed.'

Life energy — the wavelength that resonated more powerfully with a druid than any other. From a distance alone her instincts must have told her something was out of the ordinary; now, with her hand inside and in direct contact with the cube, she would be certain of it. Unlike any item she had ever handled before.

"......."

Even so, Park Na-ri smoothed the surprise from her face and extracted the cat as though nothing had happened. The cat thrashed and squirmed, but once she was wrapped in a tight embrace, she seemed to resign herself to her fate.

Park Na-ri offered me yet another round of apologies.

"Sorry, she's got this habit of diving into any box she sets eyes on, so..."

"It happens."

She peeked into my classroom, then asked carefully,

"You're in... Class 3, by any chance?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, I see. Well — sorry again."

Spewing apologies until the very last moment, Park Na-ri fled back to her own classroom. Only once she'd settled into her own desk did her expression ease noticeably; the whole encounter must have been deeply uncomfortable for her.

'Step one complete. Word is out.'

And with perfect naturalness at that.

Having confirmed with her own hands that the [Life Cube] was an extraordinary item, Park Na-ri would now begin investigating the person who owned it — me. And in the course of that, word would find its way into the Nature Club as well.

That was where the real play would begin.

"Wow... I have never seen Beomi act like that before."

For Shin Byung-cheol, it was beyond comprehension. Granted, a life-attribute item was highly attuned to spirit beasts — but still, how could Park Na-ri's cat, no, her tiger, cram herself into a stranger's box without a trace of hesitation?

"What kind of item is it that she likes it that much? Even at a glance, it does look like it's got something to it."

"It's a good item."

Good enough to make the top prospects of the Four Major Factions salivate.

Before Shin Byung-cheol could launch his follow-up barrage of questions, I stowed the Life Cube in my inventory. Then I steered the conversation, just so.

"Anyway, thanks to you that went off without a hitch. You're not bad at this acting thing."

"Aw, this hardly even counts as acting. Still, if you're truly grateful, how about a meal? One meal would go a long way, y'know?"

"I'll buy you dinner some other time. Instead, I'll give you one piece of useful information."

"Information? Like what?"

"Whatever's in your inventory — leave it in your room tomorrow."

After all, tomorrow was Friday of the first week.

Shin Byung-cheol flinched for an instant, but answered without letting the smile slip from his face.

"Whoa, whoa. Anyone overhearing that would get entirely the wrong idea. You're thinking I'm out here carting around dangerous goods or something? I'll have you know I am nothing of the sort, good sir."

"Well, if you say you're not, then I suppose you're not. Just chalk it up to me talking nonsense."

"......."

- ♪♬♩♪♪

Class was starting, so I headed back to the classroom — leaving behind a Shin Byung-cheol whose expression had turned distinctly strange.

Would Shin Byung-cheol really leave his 'items' in his room tomorrow?

No.

That one wasn't the type to take other people's advice to heart either.

Friday morning.

The moment I was up, I sent Seo Ye-in a message.

Go Hyeon-woo, needless to say, would have moved himself into the Special Meditation Room by now. With his whole mind consumed by building internal energy, he settled his meals with Inedia Pills or calorie bars, so inviting him to breakfast would have been an exercise in futility.

And so this morning's meal was just the two of us, Seo Ye-in and me.

"......."

Seo Ye-in, blessed with a small appetite, made it halfway through her omelet before setting down her fork. From there she nibbled away at what remained of her hash brown, all the while watching me eat. When I lifted my gaze, a pair of gray eyes was gazing back at me, calm and steady. Then, abruptly:

"Anything you want?"

"...Where's this coming from?"

"They say if there's something you receive, there should be something you give back."

"Says who?"

"My butler."

"......."

The quality of her equipment had already tipped me off that she was a young lady from a wealthy family — but she even kept a butler. If repaying the Magic Bullet lessons with a gift of an item was the arrangement, then I had no reason whatsoever to refuse. Besides, I had lately been feeling the need to start assembling a few things myself. Mr. Butler, whoever you might be, you have a most generous ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heart.

Offering a silent word of thanks, I answered.

"If it's what I need most right now — movement speed, probably. A pair of shoes would be nice."

"Okay."

"And by the way — did you finish all your PvP matches for this week?"

"Yeah."

Along with her answer, Seo Ye-in spread three fingers.

"Three wins?"

- nod.

If the first week's PvP assessments were complete, then barring anything unusual, she would have no further use for her equipment this week.

I asked, a touch carefully.

"If you're not using the Optical Camouflage Ghillie Suit — could you lend it to me, just for this weekend?"

"Okay."

Borrowing another person's equipment is a somewhat delicate request, and I'd figured the odds of a refusal were fairly high — but Seo Ye-in swept my concerns aside and agreed on the spot. She drew a neatly folded garment from her inventory and handed it over.

'Truly befitting a B-rank item.'

Like the Life Cube, this was a high-grade piece that a first-year student would rarely so much as lay a finger on under normal circumstances. Invisibility as the baseline, Detection Resistance to shrug off an opponent's detection-type skills up to a certain level, and Auto Durability Recovery on top of that — so long as the item was not destroyed outright, it would slowly mend itself of its own accord.

"Thank you. I'll use it with care and return it in pristine condition."

"Magic Bullet special lesson. Again."

"Sure. We'll find another time that works."

The professor who taught Monster Ecology was an elderly woman known among the students as Madam Jo Oksoon.

Madam Jo Oksoon had spent half a lifetime on battlefields crawling with monsters, and like any veteran of that experience, she was immensely knowledgeable about their ecology.

"—and that is why goblins carry such a strong reputation as beginner-tier monsters. However, just as each and every one of us is unique, and no single word — 'human' — can define us, exceptional individuals ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exist among goblins as well. In the years ahead, all of you will cross paths with them in one place or another. For documented cases of engagements between Goblin Champions and Goblin Swordmasters, please open your textbooks to page 76 and—"

The class's fatal flaw was that, being built around note-taking, it required cramming an enormous amount of information into one's head. Compounding the problem, Madam Jo Oksoon's delivery was slow and droning in the extreme — the mere act of listening lulled you toward sleep.

Seo Ye-in had long since surrendered to the sleep demon and collapsed face-first onto her desk, and she was hardly alone; countless other students sat with their heads bowed. The handful of survivors stared at the clock with unblinking devotion, willing the class toward its end.

And at last — five minutes remaining.

Any moment now, everyone would spring up as though they'd never dozed off at all, bursting into animated chatter as they roamed the room.

But this break would be the exception.

I turned my eyes toward the front rows.

At some point, Song Cheon-hye and Han So-mi's seats had gone empty.

Precisely and only — the Student Disciplinary Committee's seats.

'Five minutes to go.'

[28] The Support Ate It All