Hell's Group Project (1)

Arsen's internal dining district.

Following the address Iri sent, I arrived in front of a shop with a sign reading Etlanche.

Iri, who had arrived first, was waiting outside, clutching a meal ticket in each hand.

"Ah, Shion. You're here."

"This the place?"

"Yes! It's a restaurant I've wanted to try ever since before enrollment."

"...Here?"

Leaving the excited Iri for a moment, I tried to scan the interior with Telescopic Vision.

"...?"

A sudden, intense sense of wrongness froze my outstretched hand.

"I waited all last night to get these tickets. Finally got them today. Here, this one's yours, Shion."

"... "

"What are you waiting for? Take it."

"You... this..."

Iri thrust the ticket into my hand. The moment I saw the logo of chicken legs gripped in both hands, I remembered what this restaurant was.

I'd been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠here once, during that bourgeois concept play. Just once, but that made it stick in my memory all the more vividly.

50 to 60 thousand won per ticket. The most luxurious spot you could drop by in the original story. The emperor of Arsen's dining district, a high-class restaurant that only lets in a select few.

That was Etlanche.

Hardly a place for fresh-faced newbies like Iri and me.

I glanced at the ticket Iri handed me. It resembled the standard Arsen dining tickets, but it had a golden border around the shop logo.

So this is the 60-thousand-won ticket...

I had funds from the Esperand family, plus what I'd saved from the entrance exam, so I was fine. Even if I didn't love the idea, if I asked the family for more, they'd probably provide it.

But Iri was different. If she got a taste for this omakase-style extravagance too early, her savings would vanish in no time.

As I hesitated with the ticket in hand, the anxious Iri added,

"One day won't hurt, right? Just one day."

"You sure you'll be satisfied with just today?"

"Uh, probably..."

Iri trailed off, unable to answer.

Still, one day should be fine. The place only takes two at a time anyway, and she'd made up her mind to splurge.

Above all, Iri's dejected face tugged at me.

"Just one day."

"Yes!"

I took the ticket in the end, but that didn't mean we were done. As a ultra-high-end restaurant, Etlanche was treated as the pinnacle of luxury Arsen could offer.

A never-ending line of cadets eager for indulgence stretched out here.

Some even clutched bundles of tickets. It wasn't just cadets—Arsen staff frequented the place too.

With the holiday overlapping, Etlanche was in an unexpected peak season.

"Shion, there's a bench here. It might take a while, so they said to sit and wait."

"... "

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

It took about 40 minutes for Iri and me to finally enter the shop.

Iri's reserved seat was by the window in the corner of Etlanche, overlooking the Ariana Grand River that cut through central Arsen.

Honestly, I hadn't expected much, but the night view from here was surprisingly beautiful. The student council building in the distance and the river reflecting the night sky stood out especially.

Every ripple in the water, brimming with the night sky, made the starlight sparkle.

"Wow..."

Iri snapped a few photos with her watch before sipping her juice contentedly.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Nothing big—just stuff about next week's dungeon raid."

I hadn't come just to relax. There were things worth discussing on the side.

I'd tipped Iri off earlier that I had team matters to cover while waiting in line.

That was my side of things, though. The moment I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brought up the team, Iri's face fell.

"Ah... uh... um..."

"Don't dismiss it yet—hear me out first."

No helping it. Before diving into full activities next week, I needed her input.

I could offer advice as her mentor, but melee matters ultimately fell to Iri.

I'd originally planned to consult Rebecca, but I should loop Iri in first.

"Here's the confirmed team."

I sent the provisional roster from my watch. Iri projected it from hers and read it carefully.

"Yuuki... I know her, and then you and me, and this third-year... Wait, how'd you recruit a third-year?"

"Took some effort."

"Hmm..."

But when she reached the end of the list, Iri's hand froze mid-sip.

"S-Stu, Student, Student Council Pre—mmph?!"

"Shh. Skip that for now."

Iri blinked at me. I released her mouth once she nodded understanding, and she whispered,

'Shion, is this really okay?'

'That's why I recruited her.'

This was why I'd told Iri in advance. Dropping it all at once might cause unnecessary fuss.

But Iri still looked skeptical.

'Not trying to gossip, but I've heard a lot of bad rumors about Rebecca and the student council.'

To correct her first: half of what Iri said was spot on.

Current student council president Rebecca had purged most of the old members at the new semester, leaving only her loyal few.

No one knew why the mass expulsion happened. If I had to guess, it tied to Rebecca's current state.

Even that was just my hunch—nothing solid.

'You sure it'll be fine? I heard the student council views us new first-years pretty negatively.'

'It'll be fine. Probably.'

'"Probably" doesn't inspire confidence. What exactly are you hiding?'

Sharper question than expected.

'It's a long story, but in reality, nothing's 100% guaranteed, right? Best to minimize failure odds.'

'Hmm...'

'Most people learn by crashing and burning. That's what Arsen aims for too. But I'm different. My personality and direction don't quite match what Arsen pushes.'

It got complicated as I explained, but anyway.

'I'm leaving some buffer to handle variables flexibly. Point is, crashing and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠burning isn't my role. I'm the sniper, backing you and the others from behind.'

'...'

'That's what I meant by "probably." Don't worry about it—it's my job. You'd probably not get it anyway.'

Meant to clarify, but it came out like a koan.

In summary: As a Player, I couldn't just charge ahead and learn like Iri or Kyle. Like in the original, I supported the protagonists to keep them on track.

What I told Iri was half-true, half-vague. This world was reality, with random events, so 100% certainty was impossible.

I was just pushing success odds as close to 100% as possible.

And yes, that was my burden, not hers. Only variables countered variables.

This world's hellish difficulty spawned random events, but that's why it sent an irregular like me—an angel, if you will.

With my Unique-grade talent Sharp Shooter and the Player trait that grew with main story involvement.

"Anyway, just let it slide. Not important."

"Dropping something profound out of nowhere... hmm."

Iri stroked her chin, then poked her cheek with her index finger. Her pout said she hadn't gotten it.

"But where do you keep picking up these weird sayings? You told me last time too. 'Just be yourself' and stuff."

"Dunno. Not sure if I picked them up."

"If even you don't know, who does...?"

Nothing profound—just insights from slaving away at a company. Ultimately, results and others mattered less than self-satisfaction. Happiness, fulfillment... that sort of thing. Tied to work-life balance too.

Took me ages to learn in my past life, but I hoped kids like Iri and Lara suffered less.

Especially the protagonists, walking an even tougher path than my old reality.

Minding their mental state was part of a Player's role, broadly speaking.

"Anyway, no need to overthink. Stick to your pace without getting swept up—you'll do fine. No lie. It worked for me."

"I think I'm working hard too. Probably."

"You aren't copying me, are you?"

"...I am, probably."

A chuckle escaped me. My koan must've really gotten to her.

Cheeks puffed like a pufferfish, Iri deflated the moment the appetizer arrived. That skin elasticity was intriguing.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

The weekend passed, and a new morning dawned at Arsen.

Unlike usual, the first-years gathered at the training grounds, not classrooms. First such mass assembly since the entrance exam.

Not just cadets—each class's homeroom teachers and instructors stood at a distance.

Representing them, our Class A homeroom teacher Isabella Gaston ascended the makeshift podium.

"Starting today, you'll begin the mock dungeon raid."

Before explaining, Isabella fiddled with her watch. At her signal, a massive illusion magic deployed over the area.

"What you're seeing is footage recorded from last year's upperclassmen's mock dungeon raid."

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

Second-years in cadet uniforms tackled the dungeon in teams. Similar to Professor Biern's previous illusion, but projected in the sky this time.

Below the podium, Professor Biern stroked his chin, looking quite pleased.

"Whoa... what is this?"

"Cool."

The movie-like playback in the air lasted about three minutes. Of course, a different dungeon from ours.

"This isn't staged. The dungeon you'll enter is a 'recording' of a real past gate dungeon, recreated with artifacts. You'll face a large-scale practical training unlike anything before."

First real combat training, unlike theory classes. All first-years participated in this mock raid—a massive practical experience since enrollment.

"You'll form groups to raid. The monsters are real past ones, and your watch will auto-detect damage on hit."

"...However."

"Unlike the entrance exam, damage will transmit proportional pain. That's combat—and the difference from the exam."

Isabella's stern warning as teacher rep. Probably to set the tone for first real training.

"Hit vital spots or take excessive damage, and you'll reverse-summon to Georged Hall like the exam—disqualified. Professors here will watch but won't interfere inside."

A breeze, then a new projection: five dungeons with interior maps.

"These are your dungeons. You'll enter one of five randomly assigned."

Volcano, snowfield, swamp, urban, and an endless black underground mall.

The simplified maps showed complex structures and lurking monsters clearly.

The sky illusion faded. Now, several second-years lined up below like assistants.

"These upperclassmen will assist your raid. All volunteered to guide you and prevent getting lost."

The second-years bowed. Volunteers, sure—but most were here for credits or Arsen subsidies.

Easiest way to cover tuition was Hunter Association quests, but not that season yet, so mock raids as backup.

Team member or volunteer—pay was similar. But for credits, joining teams was better.

Ventus Ismil and Mila Den Azator, whom I'd eyed, were such cases.

Isabella called team reps.

"Group A: First-year rep Kyle Ivanstair plus five. Assigned upperclassman: Sylvia Leopard."

Sylvia approached briskly like a rabbit, offering Kyle a friendly hand with a smile.

"Looking forward to working with you, senpai."

"Same here!"

Next, Group B.

"Group B: First-year rep Serin Anette plus eight. Assigned upperclassman: Regina Polgaton."

Serin’s team was bloated—auctioned for her, merged into one.

"Group C: First-year rep Gardner Meridian plus two."

"Group D: First-year rep Gabid Bento plus three."

"Group E: First-year rep... plus five."

Isabella's calls sent second-years to positions. Numbers dwindled, calls quickened.

"Group X: First-year rep Sion Illeionhart plus four."

My name came up. Few second-years left below.

One grinned alone. Dread hit—Sense triggered. Goosebumps on my left arm.

No way. Couldn't be.

No matter how crazy the guy, he couldn't meddle in Arsen assignments.

"...Assigned upperclassman: Rian von Hildegaard."

Never expected it to go smoothly anyway. No expectations, no shock.

Though the description felt off. Hildegaard wasn't true enmity for Esperand—not in status, power, or weight.

Better compared to the now-defunct Illeionhart. Meaningless now, since I bore that name.

And his trait's literally Bomb.

Not metaphor—a real bomb dumped on me.

Getting Rian von Hildegaard the [Bomb] might be the debuff Villain's Dilemma from gaining Player.

No big difference even without buffs—team was overwhelmingly stacked. Rebecca, one of earth's top melee dealers, meant most crises solved by body-checking.

Dungeon Demonic Energy bore checking, but better to Watcher's Eye it live than theorize.

With magic interpretation genius Edel Di Bison on team, no worries anyway.

"Fancy meeting like this again."

Still, no matter how I looked...

"Hey? Let's do well. Junior."

"Yes, senpai. Let's."

...group projects were societal evil.

"Heard five members, but only three here?"

"One's prepping for outing, other's busy—both joining on-site briefly."

"Oh? Too bad."

"Yeah."

I played along with Rian's facade.

But at his quip,

"Hope those two at least pull their weight."

I couldn't hold back a hollow laugh.