Chapter 15
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Class President Election (1)
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Chandeliers and gold-painted luxury ornaments.
Iron armor statues and artwork that looked priceless at a glance.
Even in this villa, there were more than ten servants bustling about.
"Krurrr..."
This place even kept lions as pets.
In short, it was a tycoon's villa that far surpassed anything from dramas or movies.
Following Irina into the dining room, I saw a spread of mouthwatering dishes laid out.
"Eat as much as you want. It's all freshly prepared."
"Oh...!"
Honestly, there were more than a few suspicious things about this, but my growling stomach wouldn't wait.
Time to eat.
"I can't believe it. How dare you keep me waiting. Ugh...! This is so annoying."
Irina Delebayne sat across from me, legs crossed, grumbling away.
I tore into the meat, half-listening.
But why is this table so damn long?
There had to be at least five meters between her and me.
"Are you even listening? What were you doing that even location tracking didn't work?"
"Huh? You tracked my location too?"
I lifted the hem of my clothes.
A tiny tracking device sat in my inner pocket.
I crushed it between my fingers and tossed it aside.
They fed me, so I'll let it slide.
Man, every dish is exquisite.
I've never had food this good before.
"Do you eat like this every day?"
"...Huh? Oh, yeah, whatever. You commoners might not get it, but this is basic for me. Want caviar? Foie gras?"
But she's been calling me a commoner nonstop.
Arrogance must run deep in her bones.
I finished every dish in front of me and leaned back in my chair.
"...Do commoners raise beggars in their stomachs or something?"
I sipped some water and eyed the stack of plates I'd piled up.
Even I thought I'd eaten a lot.
I wasn't usually this ravenous,
but today it went down especially easy.
"...Commoners... eat... a lot..."
Irina scribbled something in her notebook, lost in thought by herself.
...Now for the main point.
"So, what's the reason you're treating me this well?"
I wiped my mouth with the tablecloth.
Irina freaked out at the sight but quickly composed herself.
"T-To think you'd see right through my true intentions. As expected of the skill you showed at the tournament—it's no fluke."
Anyone who couldn't spot that would be an idiot.
"Ahem. Straight to the point, then. At the end of this first semester, during the City Defense Tactics drill at the academy—CDT—protect me."
CDT
City Defense Tactics
CDT.
The core class for first-years, commonly called CDT from the initials of City Defense Tactics.
Every year, out of around 5,000 volunteers, an average of 20 suffer injuries—it's the worst training for rookies.
But it's also an indispensable rite of passage for anyone wanting to become a hunter.
I picked my teeth with a toothpick and stared at Irina.
She fidgeted with her fingers, unable to stay still.
"...If you handle this incident well, I'll give you whatever you want. Money? A house? Fame, even. Anything can be yours."
"...Yeah?"
...Irina Delebayne.
I had no idea why a diamond spoon like her, born into wealth, had enrolled in the academy to become a hunter.
But she clearly dreaded high-casualty training like this.
Plus, during training, no family or organization could interfere with trainees.
So no matter how rich she was, her safety was a real worry.
Hmph. Pointless.
Bam!
I slammed the table with my palm and stood up.
"I'll pass. Thanks for the food."
"Wha... huh?"
The academy is a filter that weeds out cowards and hypocrites.
"Why? Why...! Not enough money? I can give you a blank check. Why...?"
"In one word."
I cut her off.
I threw on my coat and rose from my seat.
No warm bed for me tonight.
Grabbing the doorknob, I added,
"You don't have what it takes to be a hunter, Irina Delebayne. This isn't a place for cowards like you."
"..."
Irina's face darkened.
I left the villa before she could say more.
It was still May, so the chilly weather lingered.
I pulled up my hood and jogged out lightly to aid digestion.
Afterward, Irina buried her head on the table and sobbed for a long while.
The butlers and maids exchanged worried glances but kept their distance.
"Miss... it's very late. Shall we head to your room?"
"...Hic... sniff... waaah!"
Finally, Irina burst into tears, fat droplets streaming down her face.
She clung to the butler, weeping pitifully.
"I don't wanna go to school... I don't wanna go... waaah!"
In the butler's eyes, no matter her age, she was still the little Miss Irina.
He silently patted her back.
"...Miss. Do you miss your father that much?"
"...Hic... sniff... yeah... I told you. If I become a famous hunter, Dad will meet me."
"...Yes, Miss. We're always on your side."
Was there any daughter who had never seen her father since birth?
Irina Delebayne hadn't even once.
Excuses of being busy or short on time—his warmth was nothing but words on paper.
"...What's the point of all this money... I don't need any of it..."
Irina wiped her tears.
The maids and butler stood by silently.
Sunday return day.
Tae-hyun stood before the tombstone.
This was the cemetery for those sacrificed in the 'Second Gate' incident.
Total casualties: 132,841.
Among them was his sister Kang Hyun-ji's grave.
Tae-hyun carefully cleaned the stone and placed a single chrysanthemum.
"I'll come again."
He bowed his head and turned away.
It was a day heavy with longing for his sister.
Warping to the 1st Hunter Academy.
Warp complete!
Upon arriving at the academy, he headed straight for the training grounds.
Cadet ID 32-2341 confirmed.
The academy's combat training ground.
It looked like an empty field at first glance, but it was equipped with special devices.
Please select training level.
"Level 5."
Cadet ID 32-2341. High difficulty level selected. Recommended level is 2.
"Doesn't matter."
Cadet ID 32-2341. Commencing training.
Whirr—
Arrows shot out from what had been a flat wall.
They flew straight at me, fast.
"Change."
Clang!
The slime weapon morphed into a shield in an instant, blocking the arrow.
Next came flying discs.
"Change."
I needed to get used to the King Slime Weapon's switch speed.
I drew back the bowstring as it turned into a bow.
Twang!
The arrow missed the disc and embedded in the wall.
Weapon change took about one second.
Fast, but not enough.
Dungeons had arrows from unexpected angles, traps lurking everywhere.
To react anytime, anywhere, I had to raise my weapon proficiency.
Not just stopping at 'swordsman' or 'archer'—to reach higher classes, training couldn't slack.
Mana fusion.
Fire fusions were versatile.
Sword became Fire Sword.
Arrow became Fire Arrow.
Spear became Fire Spear.
Request complete. Giant rock summoned.
A rock rose from the ground.
The dungeon expedition's clear issue: incomplete fusion of magic and weapon.
Mana capacity had grown, but density hadn't thickened.
Only one way to increase density.
I placed my palm on the cold rock.
'Yoon Ji-yeon would shatter this in one hit.'
Mana density to break rock.
Repeat a single skill endlessly.
"Lightning."
Crackle!
Electricity struck the rock true.
But it didn't budge.
Just a bit of smoke.
"Good. Again."
This time, both hands.
Next class was gear fusion.
I released mana once more.
Monday.
Lately, waking up refreshed in the morning was rare.
Training late every night—body held up, but mind was shot.
I dragged my heavy body to class.
Classroom building.
Academy classrooms resembled university ones.
No fixed rooms per class; they moved by schedule.
More freedom than expected—no penalties for skipping.
So I'd been attending sporadically.
But today, I dragged myself out for an annoying reason.
'Damn class president election.'
Corridors were already buzzing chaotically.
Makes sense—everyone hyped for class president.
Voting for their leader for three years ahead—they'd be serious.
Slide.
I opened the classroom door.
Lucy grabbed me and dragged me into the hall.
Yoon Ah-young watched worriedly behind her.
"What happened? No calls, not in the dorms! That plan won't work. Even idiots wouldn't fall for that provocation...!"
"Ah... uh... you called?"
"Dozens of times! Sigh... you have no idea how bad it's gotten. Some of our guys switched to Mitsuda over the weekend. Numbers are totally tilted his way now."
Most cadets clustered around Mitsuda.
He'd campaigned steadily over the weekend.
Mostly those who'd benefited from him in the prelims.
I patted Lucy's shoulder.
"...?"
Lucy stared at me, dumbfounded.
I brushed past and sat at my desk.
She followed, slamming her arms on it.
"What makes you so confident? Seriously... do you know how worried we were?"
"...Uh... yeah..."
Confidence came from knowing Mitsuda's personality from my past life.
So I was sure.
Futures change, but people don't.
Scratching my head, I added,
"Don't worry. I've got this."
"What?"
"As you all know, the class president at the academy holds more authority than the title suggests."
A white ballot box and election staff entered the classroom.
"Your homeroom instructors like me or others aren't your real leaders. You're choosing your own superior. A class president must excel in 'character,' 'perseverance,' 'creativity,' and lead with innate leadership."
Ha Dong-hwan wrote on the board.
-Mitsuda Yoshirow.
"Only one candidate over the weekend, but we'll take final nominations today. Choose wisely."
An odd tension filled the room.
The academy classroom was society in miniature.
First semester of first year, fresh start—warring factions in a chaotic spring-and-autumn era.
The elected president's term: one year.
Including CDT and major trainings.
Ha Dong-hwan sighed shortly and left.
Classroom erupted in chaos.
Mitsuda already strutted like he'd won.
I stood up.
Marched forward and plopped right on Mitsuda's desk.
"...What the hell."
I propped my elbows on his desk in arm-wrestling position.
Mitsuda gawked, incredulous.
I wiggled my fingers, taunting him to grab on.
"You and me. Arm-wrestle to decide class president. Simple, right?"
"...What? Know your place. The election's over. Why would I take a gamble I might lose?"
"...Fine, I'll use two fingers. Scared?"
I held up just two fingers.
Mitsuda's face twisted.
Way to bait Mitsuda: scratch his manly pride.
But he stayed surprisingly calm.
"Cheap provocation."
Screech.
Mitsuda stood.
It was ridiculously simple.
Why Mitsuda wanted president: one reason.
My expulsion.
Honestly, he probably didn't crave the title much.
Skip the presidency—settle it between us.
"If you win."
Mitsuda paused at my words.
I met his eyes.
"I'll drop out voluntarily. But if I win, you hand over class president."
Should've done this from the start.
Stroke his ego, offer a satisfying showdown.
Even I'd take the bet.
Grip!
"...Deal."
Mitsuda grabbed my two fingers.
Confident in strength, he figured he'd crush me.
I got why.
His grip was fierce.
C-Class cadets soon crowded around.
They watched, swallowing hard.
I said,
"Ready?"
"...Yeah."
Anyone could see Mitsuda winning.
A smirk crept on his face.
A supporter yelled,
"Go!!!!!"
BAM!!!
The match ended in under a second.
(Continued next chapter)