Week 5 Mentoring: PvP (2)

As Gwak Ji-cheol climbed the stairs and his eyes met mine, his face paled a shade and he quickly dropped his gaze. No doubt the nightmare had resurfaced — the day he'd been slammed into the floor over and over. I, on the other hand, no longer carried any festering resentment toward him. I'd already vented it all, thoroughly.

So once the distance between us had shrunk to speaking range, I asked first.

"163-H?"

"...That's right."

"You're in the right place, then."

Song Cheon-hye's attitude toward Gwak Ji-cheol didn't reach the open revulsion she reserved for me, but a tangle of complicated feelings seemed to be churning underneath. One of them, I guessed, was worry over the pairing of me and Gwak Ji-cheol. We'd gone as far ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as an actual duel, and now all of us would be mentoring together for a month — she had to be wondering whether this was really going to be okay.

And then there was the final member, who was an even greater spectacle... Red hair spilling to her shoulders, a wand set with rubies — and my partner from last week's dungeon clearance. Hong Yeon-hwa.

Something had clearly rubbed her the wrong way, because her face was full of grievance. In that state she skimmed the seating chart, turned her gaze toward my side of the room to find where 163-H was, and discovered me sitting squarely in the seat.

"...!!"

Hong Yeon-hwa froze solid as a statue. Only her pupils quaked violently, as if an earthquake were rippling through them. A moment later she whipped around so that her back faced me, fumbled something out, and checked it — the back of her student ID, most likely. But just as it had been for Song Cheon-hye, and for Gwak Ji-cheol before her, a fate already written was not about to change. Just accept it. I can't promise it'll put your mind at ease, though.

Hong Yeon-hwa started up the stairs with the heavy, dragging steps of someone whose legs were packed full of sandbags.

...

...

There I was, the only one in the world sitting comfortably, and there were the three of them, edging away bit by bit, standing stiff and awkward at a careful remove. To any outside observer, it must have been a quietly ridiculous scene.

So, who exactly is our mentor?

Everyone meant to learn had assembled, yet the person meant to teach was nowhere in sight. Fortunately, the wait wasn't long. A presence stirred from below, and the gazes of the four of us — until then each pointed conveniently elsewhere — converged at once. Receiving those stares, our mentor climbed the stands with the most supremely unhurried, leisurely stride imaginable. Third-year and president of the Thief Club, no less: Dang Gyu-young.

"Hey there. I'm your mentor."

With that brief introduction, Dang Gyu-young settled into the seat in front of me, leaning back against its backrest. All the while she stole a smiling glance my way — one that seemed to ask, Well? Surprised?

So that's what "see you Monday" meant.

It didn't quite startle me, but it was unexpected all the same. People of the thief class were generally free spirits who chafed at anything that bound them, and they preferred a loafer's idleness to diligence. Mentoring, by contrast, meant a contract with Dragon Slayer Academy and a schedule that bent to the students' needs — about as perfectly antithetical to a thief's temperament as it got. On top of that, Dang Gyu-young ran a club of her own and had to be several times busier than an ordinary member, yet here she was as our mentor, upending my expectations entirely.

There's some hidden story behind this.

She wouldn't have signed on for nothing, of course; the academy must have offered her a sweetener worth her while. I'd ask when the chance arose.

...

Dang Gyu-young let her eyes pass over the four of us, one at a time. After our covert exchange she made no further show of knowing me — as a mentor, she presumably couldn't afford to look like she was playing favorites.

Song Cheon-hye was the younger sister of Song Chungi, the third-year Student Council President. Judging by the barbed exchanges they'd traded during the break-in at the Temporary Confiscation Storage, the siblings weren't on especially good terms. Gwak Ji-cheol was Gwak Seung-jae's younger brother. For all the friction between thieves and the Disciplinary Committee, Dang Gyu-young held a fairly respectable opinion of Gwak Seung-jae — a difficult man to handle, but a worthy opponent worth acknowledging. Her opinion of his little brother, though... Given the sorry figure Gwak Ji-cheol had cut in our duel — borrowing a third-year golem and its equipment, and even then turtling behind an iron-wall defense — I'd wager it leaned sharply negative.

Of the four of us, Hong Yeon-hwa looked to have the least overlap with Dang Gyu-young, but since I didn't know the fine details of the relationship between the Ruby Magic Tower ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and the Thief Club, that one would bear watching. Sum it all up, and you had a combination that made your head throb on sight. But having taken us on, Dang Gyu-young would have to embrace the lot of us, whatever the mix. And to be fair, she was the sort who kept public and private properly separated — she ran a club, after all. Emotion set aside, she spoke in a brisk, businesslike tone.

"You've come under me aiming to become all-rounder mages. I'm sure you can each hold your own with magic, but an all-rounder needs more than that."

A mage had to discharge their assigned role faithfully while also knowing how to shift between a party's front, middle, and rear lines as the situation demanded, taking on additional roles along the way. Dang Gyu-young continued.

"I don't know where you fall short, or by how much. So today, we're going to find out."

Through this week's PvP assessment.

Dang Gyu-young floated up the PvP environment and its rules beside her.

The first rule to catch the eye was [Formidable Foe]. The Formidable Foe of the week-2 dungeon clearance had been the Beheader Goblin — a boss monster that broke the standard goblin template and had been reinforced severalfold. This week's PvP opponent would be every bit as difficult. And by this point, who that would be was as good as foretold.

"The Formidable Foe is me, obviously."

"...!"

Dang Gyu-young jerked a thumb at herself. If you wanted to take the measure of someone's skill, nothing was surer than clashing with them head-on. It was, at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the same time, a chance for a mentor to prove her strength and demonstrate she was qualified to teach at all.

In a word: a discipline-setting session.

The Song Cheon-hye, Hong Yeon-hwa, and Gwak Ji-cheol gathered here were first-years, but they belonged to quite famous factions. Their pride swelled accordingly, and there was every chance they might take issue with their mentor's origins or standing. The subtly doubtful looks they were already sending ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Dang Gyu-young came from exactly that place. There was the prejudice against the thief class, for one — and wasn't Dang Gyu-young a Guild Coalition mage rather than a Magic Tower one? To nip such needless noise in the bud, the best move was to hammer discipline home right here and now.

"Still, demanding that you take down a third-year would be a harsh ask. So I'll be adding [Optional Rules]."

Certain rules could be adjusted at the mentor's discretion. Dang Gyu-young snapped her fingers, and the rules updated.

"First off, I'll be fighting in this."

At some point a bracelet had appeared, dangling from the tip of Dang Gyu-young's finger and swaying lazily. It resembled an electronic tag, with a large 'C' emblazoned on its display. Serving much the same function as the placement exam's [Fixed Zone], it locked the upper ceiling of one's specs at C-Rank. Skill and trait potency were scaled down, and certain high-grade skills became unusable outright. Take [Blink], the mage's finest all-purpose mobility spell — B-Rank by birth, and here, effectively off the table.

Of course, even with everything pinned at C-Rank, the gap between her and the first-years remained. The sheer difference in the number of skills she'd mastered was staggering to begin with, and most of the first-years' skills topped out at C-Rank, with the less-practiced ones sitting at E — or even F. Which was why the next rule, [Stickers], tilted in our favor as well.

Dang Gyu-young produced three palm-sized stickers, showed them around, then smacked one onto the outside of her thigh, one at her flank, and one just above her collarbone. At the sight, Gwak Ji-cheol flushed scarlet and turned his head away. What exactly are you picturing right now? You sneaky little pervert.

There was no way Dang Gyu-young had missed what I'd seen, but she betrayed nothing and kept explaining.

"You don't need to put me down. Peel all three stickers, and that counts as a success. And needless to say, I won't be standing still for it."

Peeling a sticker naturally meant closing to arm's reach — which meant Dang Gyu-young was free to hold off anyone who approached. As for the final rule, [Two-Person], it was too self-evident to need spelling out: two of us, pooling whatever talents we had, were to work together and get the stickers off.

"That's everything. Questions or complaints — say them now."

...

With handicaps this generous, there was no room for grievance. And even if there had been, it would have bruised the pride to whine alone while everyone else held their tongue.

Dang Gyu-young led us down to the arena floor, then, one foot already on the teleportation circle, said:

"When you're ready, come in two at a time. Sort out your pairs yourselves."

Then, with a soft whoosh, she vanished inside.

...

...

The gazes of the four left behind crossed wildly in the empty air. At the end of a suffocating contest of glances, Song Cheon-hye made her proposal to Gwak Ji-cheol.

"Shall we pair up?"

"That seems for the best."

Apparently Gwak Ji-cheol had reached the conclusion that, of those present, she was the least uncomfortable option. The feeling was mutual, I'd guess. No matter what happened, she wouldn't want to team with me, and between the feud-bound Ruby Magic Tower and the Topaz Magic Tower, the latter was clearly the lesser evil. The two, teamed up on the spot, rode the teleportation circle into the arena.

...

Which left Hong Yeon-hwa watching them go, her face halfway to tears. In front of Song Cheon-hye and Gwak Ji-cheol she'd held on to her usual poise — confident with just a hint of irritation — but the moment she was left alone with me, she deflated rapidly and began stealing wary glances my way.

She's still like this, huh.

I'd assumed she might have loosened up a little after we navigated last week's sweep dungeon together without a hitch, but apparently not. Well, in any case — if I drew on that experience and played it the same way, surely things would work out somehow.

While waiting for Song Cheon-hye and Gwak Ji-cheol to come back out, I pulled up the notifications that had arrived a short while ago.

Setting the mentoring event aside for the moment — Dang Gyu-young hadn't mentioned it yet, but this 'peel the stickers off the Formidable Foe' PvP could be attempted any number of times. The thing worth noting, however, was that the rewards varied with when you cleared it. There was a sizable gap between succeeding today, on the very first day, and barely scraping through just as Sunday was running out. So my goal was simple: all three stickers, cleanly, on the first attempt.

"Kraaagh."

Just then, Gwak Ji-cheol came rolling out like a ball and shattered my musings. He tumbled head over heels, lost momentum, and sprawled flat on his back, faint electric currents crackling feebly across his body. Song Cheon-hye followed, trudging out looking abruptly spent. She looked one breath away from crumpling to the floor, but mindful of our eyes, she did her best to appear unscathed. Then she raised a thinly trembling hand and pointed back toward the arena.

"Next... she says for you to come in..."

[80] The Support Ate It All