Hellish Party Member Recruitment (1)
Afternoon class time. With a bit of time before the homeroom professor arrived, I checked my status.
Telescopic Vision
Watcher's Eye
Sense
Magic Bullet Shooter
Player
The first thing that caught my eye was the roughly 400-point increase in my mana capacity. That included the bonus from clearing the dormitory ghost incident without any casualties, on top of the achievement reward.
My stats had risen by a whopping 0.27 overall. Thanks to that, the back rows were neatly aligned at 7.
'Not bad.'
This was decent progress for the time invested. I slowly clenched and unclenched my left hand. My grip strength felt a bit stronger.
If this trend continued, just participating in the main story events would let me keep up with the protagonists' heels.
That said, I couldn't slack on physical training. Each main story clear granted stat bonuses, but clearing them required a honed body in the first place.
My right arm, overworked last night, had a hairline fracture. The doctor said it was minor and would heal quickly with rest. My superhuman body had recovery far beyond a normal person's, which helped.
Still, I'd have to take it easy for a while.
The classroom door slid open with a rumble, and Isabella Gaston, coffee mug in hand, slowly ascended the podium.
"Everyone's here, I see. Are all of you diligently participating in Ignatos Persio?"
No cadet answered. They exchanged glances and stayed silent, knowing it was a trap question. Answering would mean admitting they were Peltus or Leto.
Isabella took a satisfied sip from her mug—
"We're doing great!"
"Yes, yep!"
Two pure souls fell right into the trap, weak as they were to lies.
Isabella's throat twitched. The sudden straight ball had made her coffee reflux momentarily.
All eyes in the room turned to them. Reactions varied: Kyle looked around innocently, oblivious, while Iri slapped a hand over her mouth in regret.
Those two were too pure for their own good.
"Yes... Today, we'll have a preliminary notice for next week's mock dungeon experience."
Isabella, momentarily at a loss, cleared her throat and pointed to the blackboard. A beam projector fired on cue, filling it with an illustrated guide.
"The mock dungeon experience will be done in groups, with group leaders selected from second-years, not first-years. Leaders are chosen randomly, so you'll team up with an upperclassman."
"I have a question!"
"Speak, Kyle Ivanstair."
"You said it's by group—does that mean this experience is a group assignment?"
Ever the protagonist, always consistent. Isabella paused, choosing her words.
"Yes. This experiential learning is a group assignment. And Kyle Ivanstair, from now on, state your name before asking questions."
"Yes!"
The classroom stayed quiet, but I sighed softly. Most here were probably facing their first group project. Kyle's innocent question said it all.
They'd all successfully summited the peak of naivety. The pride of entering Arsen was propping them up. It'd motivate them for academy life—not bad. Overconfidence beat defeatism.
"You'll form teams to conquer Arsen's prepared mock dungeon. As mentioned, leaders are randomly selected from second-years, but team members—"
Isabella paused for a sip. The guide flipped to the next page silently.
"—must be recruited by you directly from Arsen."
This exercise aimed to teach the pains of party matching firsthand. How hard it was to build a balanced party. Hunters would face it constantly later.
Arsen was strict in that way. While other academies did 70% theory, 30% practice, Arsen was 50/50. Six periods a day: 1-3 theory, 4-6 practice. They valued real combat experience, making them top of the three great academies.
As Isabella continued, whispers spread. Cadets were already recruiting.
The competition had begun and would intensify. Dozens of groups would form, and next week, they'd tackle the mock dungeon.
And they'd all realize: group projects were societal evil.
03:10:32
Afternoon, after classes ended. I stood not at the guest house, but in Arsen's central plaza.
Isabella had said in class: recruit team members directly from Arsen.
Flipped around, that meant anyone recruitable was fair game. Not professors, of course, but no grade restrictions.
Arsen was lenient there. Bring a first-year or a third-year senior—it was up to you. No regulations; it tested 'capability.'
Arsen aimed to train combat-ready future hunters. Self-reliant cadets... Pretty words. No wonder villains exploited the gaps.
Anyway, Arsen didn't interfere in group formation. Everyone recruited themselves.
Thus, the central plaza teemed with first-years holding placards.
"Looking for a tank for our group! Beginners welcome!"
"Two mages here—seeking teammates!"
"Help just once! Need a sniper!"
Cadets stood like protesters, placards flashy. The plaza, central to campus, was passed daily—packed at lunch and afternoons, mostly second- and third-years.
Desperate first-years begged upperclassmen, but...
"What're these? The newbies?"
"Cute. Trying to recruit here."
...upperclassmen just found them adorable, not joining.
Even teaching assistants passed, handling odd jobs. Exion Assistant ahead, first-years clinging like ornaments.
"Ah, haha, let go. This is troublesome, everyone."
"Please, just once, Professor..."
"I'm a teaching assistant, not a professor. Can't join as a teammate."
"Aaaah! Nooo!"
They were desperate. First group project inexperience played a part.
Soon, leftovers would band together. No one left out forever.
Popular ones had full teams already. Like Serin Anette—her entrance exam dominance got her swarmed post-class, dragged off. Probably auctioning her.
Kyle Ivanstair too. As my rival for first, he'd gotten offers and joined somewhere. Likely with Kai Alma, per canon—bickering to build rivalry, sparking synergy. Good for them.
Me? No team yet.
-Hey, really not joining?
-We're seeking a sniper—wanna team up?
-No team? Join us!
A few offers, but I had a planned teammate, so I declined. I'd hung back, observing Kyle and others.
Ready to help if needed, but they were managing.
Time for me to recruit.
I sat quietly on a plaza bench. Eyes on me from all sides. With Telescopic Vision and Sense, my body reacted despite my will.
"Hey there."
Clicking heels: a second-year approaching. No need to look.
A shadow fell over me.
"First-year, right? Group project season—need help? Got time."
"Sorry."
"Uh, uh...? Okay..."
The duffel-bag second-year slunk away at my firm refusal.
But not the only one.
"You recruiting too? Need help?"
"Sorry, already have a teammate."
"Oh, really? Too bad..."
Badge said second-year again. Glancing aside, first-years with placards glared.
Strange looks—like why come if not recruiting?
Couldn't help it. I had a planned teammate, just waiting for their irregular appearances.
"Well! Just in case, add me as a friend. Ask if you need anything."
Second-years weren't pushovers.
"Here, take this. Might need to contact later."
She left a paper with her ID and scurried off.
Glancing: my watch auto-scanned.
I pondered the watch panel. Rejecting might spark weird rumors among second-years—trouble. Fine to accept.
Ding! Chat popped up instantly.
Sylvia Leopard’s favorability rises slightly.
...Thought it was Celia, but Sylvia. Familiar name—student council member, probably.
Her help might come in handy later, as she said.
I didn't reply, lowering my watch. Time was up.
Click—click— A familiar silhouette approached from afar.
"…Sion Illeionhart."
I stood to greet them. Team recruitment ends today.
Probably another all-nighter tonight.
01:32:11