CHAPTER 9: MOCKED

By the time I finally came back to my senses, the classroom was completely empty. Only my bag and the faint echo of chairs scraping remained.

I closed the system window, packed up my things, and placed my notebook in the drawer. Since today’s class schedule ended with that one monstrously long lecture, I headed out.

The Imperial Academy only had one official course period each day — four hours long. After that, cadets were free to spend the rest of the day however they wanted, using academy facilities to train, study, experiment with magic, or explore virtual dungeons. The freedom made sense; the academy prioritized growth, not standardized schooling.

But right now, my priority was more immediate.

I was starving.

I originally planned to visit the training grounds later to test out the shotgun, but without food in my system, that idea could wait.

The cafeteria was already lively. It wasn’t too crowded thanks to its enormous size, but the moment I stepped inside, conversations paused. Eyes turned toward me, the same way someone might look at dirt on impeccable marble flooring.

Their stares didn’t bother me anymore. I walked straight to the counter and looked at the posted menu.

Menu of an fantasy world set in medieval era was apparently:

Meat stew

• Boiled vegetables

• Bread and butter

• Roasted beast meat slices

• Potato soup

• Oat porridge

• Boiled eggs

and so on...

Reasonable for cadets. Not appealing for someone accustomed to modern food variety... especially when my own cooking put theirs to shame. Even the chefs here probably maxed out at Cooking Lv. 5. No wonder everything tasted bland.

I decided I would bring homemade meals from tomorrow onward.

For today, I settled for a basic plate: stew, bread, and some roast slices.

I accepted my tray like everyone else and was about to walk away when one of the cafeteria staff cleared his throat.

"Cadet Lucien."

I paused. "...What?"

He avoided meeting my eyes. "Meals are no longer free for you. You have to pay."

Ah. Right. Privileges revoked.

Of course nothing would be free anymore.

Nearby cadets snickered, pretending not to stare too obviously.

"How much?" I asked calmly.

"Fifty-nine copper coins."

I didn’t have any copper on me yet, so I handed over a silver coin. The staff counted and gave me forty-one coppers back.

A gold coin equaled ten silver coins, which equaled a thousand coppers.

Meaning this meal cost fifty-nine dollars... for boiled food.

Even though I had a decent amount left after the house purchase — roughly four hundred gold coins — the realization hit hard.

At this rate, I would burn through my fortune fast.

House expenses, food expenses, and soon... semester fees. That one would be ugly.

Any excitement from earlier — discovering a way to raise my skills, leveling up my mana control — faded beneath the weight of money problems.

I carried the tray to a corner table, far from others.

Naturally, no one sat near me.

No one even tried.

"...Tch."

I stabbed the stew with a spoon, letting out a soft sigh.

For now, hunger was the most pressing enemy.

So I ate quietly, alone, pretending the taste was fine.

At least I could cook something better later tonight.

After finishing my meal, I carried myself toward the training grounds.

The area stretched wide like a military base — divided into multiple sections depending on the type of training. One field was filled with students swinging swords or sparring under the supervision of instructors. Another had spears, halberds, and dummies set up for thrusting practice. Further along, there was the archery zone, where wooden targets were lined up in rows and animated training puppets occasionally darted forward or sideways to simulate moving enemies.

Magic users had their own corner, firing elemental spells at reinforced barriers that shimmered from repeated impacts.

A few healers waited on standby nearby — a necessary precaution for a place where injuries were practically routine.

For the first time ever since arriving here, people actually looked surprised to see me. Their eyes widened briefly before shifting into puzzled curiosity. I could guess why. Judging from my pathetic stats and reputation, Lucien had never once stepped foot in the training grounds since the academy term started.

"What is he doing here?"

"Is he actually going to train...?"

Their curiosity deepened further. No one knew what Lucien specialized in. Sword? Magic? Archery? Fists? He had never shown any signs of proper training or talent. It made sense that they wanted to watch and laugh.

Well then.

Let me surprise you again, dear onlookers.

Some returned to their own training, though quite a few kept a close eye on me, waiting to see which weapon I’d pick up from the rack.

But I walked right past the weapon racks without touching anything.

Confusion stirred behind me.

Was I planning to box the targets to death?

Did I come here just to breathe the same air as hardworking cadets?

I headed straight to the shooting range where archers and a few mages were practicing. When I approached, they paused and glanced my way — searching for a bow or wand in my hands.

They found nothing.

Then, slowly and perhaps too theatrically, I reached behind my back.

Gripping the hidden weight tucked neatly behind my coat, I drew my weapon.

A black-metal shotgun — restored relic of the Lumeveil Empire.

Not going to lie — the motion felt cool.

For a moment, I imagined slow-motion background music and sunglasses.

But that illusion lasted all of two seconds.

A snort sounded nearby.

One snort quickly multiplied into chuckles.

Then came the mocking.

"...Is that actually a gun?"

"Typical. He finally stooped to using one."

"What does he think he’ll do? Hunt rabbits?"

"Maybe he lost his way to noblewomen’s kitty party?"

Soft laughter became louder, spreading like a wave.

Even some archers found it funny, which was ironic considering they also fought from a distance.

I stood there, gripping the shotgun with stiff fingers.

"...Is there a hole I can hide in?"

Or should I just start digging one?

I expected teasing, sure — but these lines were harsh.

Even Lucien, trash as he was, never did anything to deserve becoming the academy’s comedian.

I sighed quietly.

"How annoying."