Midterms Out of Nowhere?
In the middle of our endlessly repetitive daily life, the midterm exams had somehow crept up on us before anyone realized it.
In times like this, we just gloss over it with a knowing wink. Since when have we ever cared about proper pacing?
Thankfully, starting from the second semester there were no theory exams at all—only practicals. It wasn’t that they skipped teaching theory, but from this point on the academy stubbornly focused on practical evaluations. The second-semester midterms were essentially an extension of the previous gate training: solo hunting of a boss monster instead of the usual trash mobs.
Maybe it was because they’d only faced small fry for so long, but the students’ confidence was shooting through the roof. A few of them were visibly terrified at the mere words “boss monster,” yet most didn’t seem particularly bothered.
“Sign here, you noobs! A boss monster is just a big monster!”
“You scared of boss monsters? I’ve lived a rough life—so those things are downright cute to me.”
“The really scary thing isn’t the boss monster. It’s the graph that only goes downward.”
“What are you on about! What’s scarier than a boss monster is a series that vanishes without a single notice or update!”
“The boss monster doesn’t matter! My dick is gone! I’ve been TS’d!!!”
“This is Novelpia, so TS is pretty common. Don’t worry about it.”
I wasn’t particularly afraid either. Of course I’d never actually killed one myself, but after tagging along with Hye-ji so much, I’d come to think of boss monsters as nothing more than creatures that took a few extra hits to finish off. Because of that attitude, I didn’t even register the professor’s final warnings right before the exam.
“Everyone! If you deal with it step by step exactly as you’ve been taught, you can handle it just fine. Your score will be calculated based on multiple factors—your response methods, clear time, and so on. You don’t necessarily have to defeat it. Even if you fail to kill the monster, you’ll still receive partial credit depending on how you cope. The academy accepts any approach. Should an accident occur, please refrain from complaining. Responding to the unexpected is precisely what defines a hunter’s qualifications. So please, set aside your worries and focus on the exam.”
The moment he finished speaking, dozens of gates materialized across the vast dueling arena. The assigned students took their positions in front of their respective gates. At the professor’s signal, they all stepped inside at once.
After a somewhat tedious wait, students began emerging from the gates one by one, their faces gaunt and drained. Their conditions varied wildly. Some started vomiting the instant they stepped out. Others clutched their heads, desperately begging for sleep. Most looked far from okay. A few were even pathetically collapsed on the ground. It seemed they hadn’t managed to defeat the boss monsters after all.
Watching them, Piece spoke up slyly.
Even if those idiot bastards strut around acting tough, a monster’s head is still just a monster’s head.
To be honest, I was confident in at least one-on-one combat. And these pathetic monsters were nothing compared to Hye-ji. I’d been dozing off from sheer boredom while waiting, but when my turn finally came, Hye-ji shook me awake.
“Shin-woo, it’s your turn.”
“Huh? I’ll be back soon.”
“Hold on. Take these.”
“Ah, right. Thanks.”
Before stepping into the gate, I double-checked my gear. One two-handed sword, one longsword, one short spear, and one mace. Plus the dozens of grenades and several Molotov cocktails Hye-ji had handed me at the last minute. It might have seemed excessive, but since I had no idea what would come out, I figured it was better to be overprepared. Confidence was no excuse for slacking on readiness.
Still half-asleep, I stood in front of the gate. When the professor gave the signal, I slowly walked inside.
Gate Control Management Room.
Countless graduate researchers were fiddling with complex machinery here. In principle, such precision equipment was supposed to be handled exclusively by faculty members. But at some point it had become routine to dump all the work on the researchers and disappear to goof off.
Several master’s students and a few doctoral candidates were poking at the machines with bloodshot, hollow eyes. Numerous monitoring screens floated in front of them. Yet the place their attention was truly fixed on was—
“Hurry up and take it!”
—none other than the ramen pot they had secretly boiled behind the professor’s back.
At the doctoral researcher’s command, the master’s students had prepared the ramen. Their plan, of course, was to shove all the blame onto the master’s students if anything went wrong. But if they’d been smart enough to realize something so obvious, they never would have become researchers in the first place.
The many researchers, overflowing with their own desires, simply stared at the pot as it released a spicy aroma and white steam. They waited desperately for their own turn.
Once the ramen had been distributed, conversation died. The only sound left in the control room was the noisy slurping of noodles. Then one of the master’s students voiced a question to the doctoral researcher.
“Senior, shouldn’t we be monitoring this?”
“Leave it. When has an accident ever happened?”
“......Stuff like this usually becomes foreshadowing.”
The doctoral researcher noisily slurped another mouthful of ramen and instantly shot down the master’s pointless question. He then tried to move toward the screen to activate the next gate for the upcoming test-takers.
But as he walked, his foot caught on a cable and he tripped spectacularly. It was the perfect illustration of the saying that spoken words become seeds.
Naturally, the ramen bowl in his hand flew through the air and landed precisely on the gate operation control panel.
“Fuck! This is all because you jinxed us by opening your mouth!”
“Huh…?”
“What are you standing there for?! Go get something to clean it up!!!”
Before he could even protest his innocence, the master’s student heard the doctoral researcher’s roar and frantically scrambled to find something to wipe with. Meanwhile, the spilled ramen had perfectly seeped into every crevice between the buttons on the control panel.
One of the other master’s students who was still eating glanced at the student who had boiled the ramen and asked slyly, “The stuff you just made… was that gap-sealing ramen by any chance?”
“How’d you know?”
“Because the ramen is currently seeping between all the button gaps.”
Regardless of that silly exchange, the scolded master’s student was diligently scrubbing the panel with toilet paper he’d fetched from somewhere. While the others went back for ramen refills, a short conversation floated between them.
“Hey, aren’t all those dangerous buttons on the panel exposed without any safety covers?”
“They rejected the request for covers because it costs money.”
“Those cheap bastards. They don’t even pay us properly.”
“Hey, just shut up and eat your ramen before it all goes soggy.”
In the frantic scrubbing, one of the buttons was accidentally pressed with a distinct click. But the senior glaring at him in the present was far more terrifying than any future consequences. The master’s student kept wiping the panel without the slightest sense of unease.
The place the gate sent me to was none other than a forest. Fortunately I wasn’t attacked the instant I stepped out.
What can you do about the writer’s empty skull?
—You son of a bitch.
I ignored the voice that suddenly stabbed into my brain and scanned my surroundings. Trees in every direction. The tall canopy severely limited visibility. Then a piercing cry tore through the air, and a massive cloud of dust rose from nearby. I started walking toward it.
Stop being such a baby. Even if it’s a boss monster, it’s still just a slightly oversized mob.
It didn’t take long to reach the spot. Yet the cloud of dust still showed no sign of settling. After waiting a little longer, the dust finally cleared, revealing an absolutely enormous centipede. It was so huge that lining up six five-ton trucks side by side would still look smaller and shorter.
Fuck, they expect me to kill this thing? Are these bastards insane?
The moment I registered the giant centipede, it registered me as well. It immediately bared its hostility, hissing at me like an angry cat. I tried talking first.
“Centipede Elder, you’ve wandered into the wrong genre. Go back to the One Punch Man world.”
Apparently I wasn’t drunk enough yet, because the monster didn’t understand a word. Instead, it busily shifted its massive body into an attack stance. Big or small, it was still an opponent I had to defeat. I gripped the short spear in one hand and the mace in the other, settling into a ready posture.
I’ll stab the short spear into the gaps and smash it with the mace.
And if a big enough opening appeared between the plates, I’d shove grenades and Molotov cocktails inside. A simple but effective plan. Just as I finished organizing my thoughts and prepared to charge, a strange roar suddenly echoed from far away.
I must have misheard. Don’t get so sensitive about every little thing.
But Piece had heard correctly. The roar from a distance grew steadily louder. From the centipede’s right side, another boss monster burst through the trees, smashing them to splinters as it appeared. This one resembled a spider, except its eight legs looked exceptionally thick and powerful. The spider let out a thunderous roar the moment it saw me and immediately burned with murderous intent.
“Okay… two of them is still manageable if I play it right.”
Then, as if to directly refute my assessment, another boss monster appeared from the centipede’s left side. This time it was a mosquito with an elongated proboscis and a pair of transparent wings.
God damn it. I don’t even have a bug fetish.
A one-versus-three situation. Without even considering the overwhelming disadvantage, the three boss monsters charged at me simultaneously.