The morning of the third day of the dungeon survival.

At the main committee headquarters set up in front of the return portal to Area 1, the selected students from three academies—Ucheon, Martial God, and even Crystal—were gathered.

In front of them stood the committee members and Chairman Riyu Homar.

The committee members all wore looks of disbelief, while Riyu kept his mouth shut, staring coldly at the students before him.

“…I’ll ask one more time.”

His voice was sharp and icy.

“Are you truly ending this with a mid-course withdrawal?”

“Yes.”

It was Iris who answered.

“After two days of going up against Gwangcheon, we realized that even the increased point values are meaningless.”

“……”

Riyu closed his mouth again.

Normally, he would have berated Iris harshly.

In his eyes, a human who doesn’t learn how to fight to the bitter end is better off dead.

That was his philosophy.

But this time, even through the lens of his worldview, he could not help but understand what these students were feeling.

Gwangcheon had toyed with the others.

They monopolized food, seized every resource point, destroyed safe zones to rob others of rest.

But most malicious of all was how they crushed the spirits of the other cadets—utterly and completely.

They had even gone so far as to destroy the last remaining safe zone in Area 4, the one they themselves had occupied, before striding boldly into Area 5.

The average monster level in Area 5 was 45.

Even with a safe zone, it was a place the others couldn’t possibly function in.

No cadet who saw that could have failed to grasp the sheer difference in level.

The committee itself hadn’t even prepared quests for Area 5, assuming no cadets would venture there.

“Martial God and Ucheon, do you feel the same?”

Riyu turned his gaze.

“…Yes,” Cheongryong replied.

“This HAUT carved into our bones how powerless we are, how arrogant we were. Struggling here any further is meaningless. We must return to our academies and grow stronger. That is what we should do.”

Next, Rio spoke.

“Yesterday I thought maybe there was still a sliver of hope, but no. As that guy said, the only answer is more training. And that’s not something you do here, starving and sleepless. It’s inefficient. Spiritual training, maybe. But not this.”

He gave a bitter smile.

“……”

Riyu looked at the three, then turned his back to them.

“Marco.”

“Yes, Chairman.”

“Escort them out.”

“Understood.”

The man called Marco led the cadets toward the return portal.

“For the first time in HAUT history,” Riyu murmured, looking up at the drones hovering in the air.

Every year, some academy would drop out of survival—whether from starvation, exhaustion, or being overrun by monsters at night.

But never before had multiple academies gathered together to declare surrender all at once.

That evening, new reports came in.

[This is the Area 2 outpost reporting to headquarters. The Dai Academy team has declared withdrawal. We’ll escort them to base now.]

[This is the Area 3 outpost. We’ve recovered the Magica Academy team. Once they come to their senses, we’ll bring them to base.]

“…Hah.”

Riyu let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh.

By evening, following the three academies who had given up that morning, Dai and Magica had also dropped out.

Now only Gwangcheon remained.

There was no longer any reason to continue survival.

“Tell the Area 4 outpost: go to Area 5 and bring the Gwangcheon team back.”

“Yes, Chairman.”

Jang Jinseong responded promptly and hurried out with his radio.

“Everyone else, start packing up. Break down the tents, notify the city that the Bottle Island dungeon session is complete.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the committee bustled into action, Riyu stepped outside.

He walked down to the shore and lifted his gaze to the night sky.

Nameless stars glittered above.

“Seo Yui. Lumina Cueva. Chen Meiling. And Nam Yein.”

He spoke each name of Gwangcheon’s team aloud.

For those kids, this HAUT must have been boring.

Riyu chuckled darkly.

He had believed he’d prepared a sufficient stage. Instead, the program had ended early.

Not only the ones full of pride in their own abilities, but even those hailed as possessing unparalleled talent were made to recognize their own insufficiency. These were cadets unlike any I have ever seen. They almost don’t seem like people of this world at all.

Especially their leader, Nam Yein. Even as just an academy applicant, it was as if he saw straight through everything. That alone was chilling.

“Geniuses in the truest sense,” he muttered.

Friday morning.

The final day of HAUT now consisted only of packing up and the graduation ceremony.

“Other than your smartwatches and tablets, all the supplies we issued—magic-grade weapons and gear, skill gems—you may keep them.”

After breakfast, Jang Jinseong gathered us outside the dormitory to explain.

Abel, whose course had now ended, was nowhere to be seen.

Before, I would’ve been glad to get free dismantling materials, I thought as I stored the gear into my personal inventory.

But level 30 magic-grade items were completely useless now.

In the game, the skill gems were at least decent. But here? Trash. I’ll either toss them or sell them at the Hunter Market.

HAUT’s gems were simply too low-level for us to ever use in real combat.

We’d simply leveled too much while preparing for HAUT.

And yet, even then, I still felt we weren’t high enough.

The threats pressing down on me didn’t follow level caps or timelines—they crashed down like a hardcore difficulty set to random.

HAUT was supposed to be an event for second-years anyway.

That thought brought the principal’s face to mind.

Lim Seongyeon had nominated me, Lumina, and Meiling—first-years—for HAUT.

Was this another product of the new difficulty mode?

Just then, the broadcast sounded.

[Once you finish packing, please wait in your rooms in school uniforms.]

Jang Jinseong’s voice filled the dormitory through the speakers.

After tidying up, I sat on my bunk and glanced around at the others.

The boys I’d shared this room with for more than ten days were silently packing their things.

Ever since survival had ended abruptly in just three days, conversation had dropped to almost nothing.

Even Rio and Zen spoke far less than before.

The reason was obvious to anyone—the events of survival.

But they didn’t glare at me with hostility, not like Dai’s cadets had in the beginning.

They just seemed deep in thought.

Eventually, another announcement came.

[At this time, all cadets please bring your belongings and gather outside the dormitory. Do not leave anything behind.]

Finally, leaving this place.

Had no one been around, I would have shouted for joy.

Even breathing the air of this training camp felt like it cut my energy in half.

Jang Jinseong led us to buses waiting on the parade ground.

The convoy left the training site, rolled into Seoul, and stopped in front of a hotel near Gwanghwamun.

“Everyone, please disembark.”

At his words, we filed off the bus and followed him into the hotel lobby.

There, attendants collected our luggage—everything except our inventories.

“This way, please.”

A uniformed woman smiled as she led us into the hotel’s event hall.

As she opened the heavy doors, I saw people inside.

The HAUT committee members from survival. The investors I’d seen at the dueling matches.

The principals of each academy, including Lim Seongyeon.

Reporters with cameras.

And many faces I didn’t know.

The moment we stepped inside, applause erupted.

Flashbulbs popped as the press snapped photo after photo.

At the front of the hall stood a raised platform.

Before it, 24 chairs were neatly arranged.

“Please, everyone, take your seats here.”

Jang Jinseong gestured.

Once we were seated, the man who had been standing at the side table on the stage picked up the microphone.

“Now, we will begin the 17th Hunter Academy United Training Graduation and Awards Ceremony. First, a few words from the Executive Committee Chairman.”

Chairman Riyu stepped to the center of the stage.

“First, I would like to thank the honored guests who have taken time out of their busy schedules to grace this occasion. And to the young hunters who sit here today, healthy and safe after completing HAUT—well done.”

His tone was nothing like the harsh bark I remembered from training. Polished, refined. Likely because of the press watching.

“This year, as always, HAUT brought together talented cadets from six academies across Seoul. They collaborated, they competed, and in doing so they learned things that cannot be taught within academy walls…”

I let his words wash over me without really listening.

They weren’t part of the game’s script, and I had little interest.

But then, a single sentence snapped me back.

“…But this year’s HAUT was a special experience not only for the cadets, but also for us on the committee. That was because of the performance of one academy’s team—something no one could have foreseen. They completely dominated the others, and reminded us that we cannot remain complacent. That for truly extraordinary talents, deeper research and stronger support are required. That academy was… Gwangcheon.”

At once, the hall erupted into murmurs.

“What did he say?”

“Gwangcheon? Gwangcheon, not Crystal?”

“I thought Crystal had it in the bag?”

At first there were only startled whispers.

But then came the voices of those who had known.

“So it really was Gwangcheon.”

“When I first heard rumors about the group duel, I couldn’t believe it. But it was true.”

The words were hushed, yet in a room full of awakened ears, everyone heard them clearly.

I had, at least.

Riyu finished and gave the floor to the announcer.

Several more committee members walked on stage, carrying ornate boxes and certificates.

“Now, we will proceed with the awards for outstanding performance in this year’s HAUT.”

The announcer’s voice rang out.

“First, the individual top score. This time, two cadets tied for first place. From Gwangcheon Academy, Seo Yui. And from the same academy, Lumina Cueva.”

A holographic display appeared above the stage. Just as he said: Seo Yui and Lumina tied for first.

“Hic!”

Lumina let out a loud hiccup. Seo Yui blinked rapidly, glancing from me to the screen.

My own rank was seventh.

Unsurprising.

I hadn’t even submitted the weapon-crafting assignment, and in the duels I’d only fought Iris once before forfeiting the rest. My scores were bound to be low.

Meiling had performed excellently in practice but bombed the theory portions, leaving her in fifth.

Seo Yui and Lumina, on the other hand, had never once dropped points in training, practicals, dungeon expeditions, or duels. Their theory wasn’t as high as mine, but still above average.

And in HAUT, as at the academies, practical performance carried more weight. Their victory was inevitable.

Though I hadn’t expected a tie for first.

“Seo Yui, Lumina Cueva. Please come forward.”

“Let’s go, Lumina.”

“Y-yes!”

Seo Yui guided Lumina up to the stage.

“There was only one prize prepared for first place,” Riyu announced. “We didn’t anticipate a tie. So today, we will grant both students the right to choose.”

The committee members opened the boxes before them.

A red aura spilled across the hall. Both items were unique-grade.

“One is a ring capable of altering one’s aptitude grade. The other is a level 50 unique skill gem.”

A unique skill gem?

My heart skipped.

In the game, those were rarer than even most unique items.

“This skill gem is called Soul Barrier. It consumes part of your MP permanently, but provides a protective shield in return.”

My eyes went wide.

Soul Barrier.

It locked away half your MP, but granted a shield equal to a third of your max HP.

Damage would eat the barrier before touching your HP, making it a literal lifesaver.

Better yet, the barrier regenerated on its own if you avoided attacks for a few seconds. No potions required.

This is better than I could have hoped.

Survivability and stability, both drastically improved.

“Now, the two students may choose their reward.”

Seo Yui and Lumina exchanged glances—and then both looked at me.

Just pick one already.

I shrugged. Doesn’t matter. I’ll make sure the right ones end up where they should.

Seo Yui: Soul Barrier.

Lumina: the unique ring, Twisted Possibility.

When I lifted a shoulder, they turned back, nodded to each other, and reached into the boxes.

Seo Yui chose the gem. Lumina chose the ring.

They then received certificates from Riyu.

“And next, the award for Best Academy. This year’s top academy is… Gwangcheon.”

The hologram shifted again, showing the final scores.

“No way.”

“Gwangcheon actually won?”

“They’re four hundred points ahead of Crystal!”

“Incredible…”

The hall buzzed once more.

“Would the remaining two Gwangcheon cadets please come forward?”

Together with Meiling, I rose and stepped onto the stage.

(End of Chapter)