Sunday.

Lumina, Meiling, and Seo Yui were gathered together in one of the girls’ dorm rooms.

“These are the advantages I’ve put together if we decide to transfer to Crystal,” Seo Yui said, holding out her tablet.

----------------------------------------

[Advantages]

* Better study and living environment

* Full scholarship and living expenses covered

* Change in how people view us

* Far wider options after graduation

----------------------------------------

“And this…” Seo Yui swiped the screen.

“Are the disadvantages of transferring to Crystal.”

Both Lumina and Meiling leaned forward to look.

----------------------------------------

[Disadvantages]

* None.

----------------------------------------

They glanced up at her face.

“Honestly, if we’re being objective, no one can deny Crystal is better than Gwangcheon,” Seo Yui said.

“Well… that’s true,” Lumina admitted, her expression dimming a little.

“So what—you’re saying you want to transfer?” Meiling’s eyes narrowed.

“Not alone. If we all go together, I’ll go. But if even one of you says no, I’ll stay. Personally, though, I think it’s in our best interest to transfer.”

“……”

Meiling crossed her arms, thinking for a while, then turned her head.

“Lumina. Do you agree with Seo Yui?”

“Eh? Me? I…” Lumina glanced back and forth between the two before speaking.

“I do think transferring to Crystal would be better for us. And Yein seemed to be considering Crystal too.”

Meiling’s brows tightened.

“Seo Yui. You said if even one person didn’t want to, you’d stay. Well, I’m against it. So let’s drop the whole transfer thing.”

“Why?” Seo Yui asked.

“What do you mean why?” Meiling scowled.

But Seo Yui, with her characteristically drowsy expression, spoke calmly.

“Because if you don’t give us a reason, how can we accept it? Lumina and I explained ours. I said transferring has only upsides and no downsides, and Lumina added that Yein seemed to want it. So now it’s your turn.”

“……”

Lumina’s cheeks flushed red.

Meiling pressed her lips together, glaring at Seo Yui. But Seo Yui just waited quietly, staring back.

Finally, Meiling let out a sharp sigh.

“Fine. It’s not like we’re lacking here, right? If we go to Crystal, that chairman is going to meddle in everything. It’ll be annoying. And if Yein’s ability to craft items gets exposed, it’ll be even harder to hide. Am I wrong?”

Seo Yui nodded. “That’s certainly something to consider.”

Meiling’s frown softened a little.

“But if it’s Yein, I’m not worried.”

Her expression soured again.

“Yein must’ve already thought through all of that before bringing up the transfer. If he says it’s doable, then he means it.”

“You don’t think you trust him a little too much? He can make mistakes too.”

“I think Yein sees further than we do. And actually, your point reminded me of another reason we should transfer.”

“…What reason?”

“Forward’s chairman is never going to look kindly on us. In that case, wouldn’t it be safer to stand next to Crystal’s chairman instead of staying at Gwangcheon?”

“……Tch.”

Meiling grimaced, realizing too late that she’d left an opening.

“And if he doesn’t like us? What then? We won HAUT. He can’t just do whatever he wants to us.”

“He can. He will.”

Seo Yui’s drowsy expression sharpened into something serious.

“Valhall, and the human experiments done to Jodie—Forward was behind both. Oh Seongcheon is the head of that company. Do you really think he plays by common sense?”

Meiling looked like she’d swallowed something bitter.

Bringing up Valhall like that is low, she thought. But she couldn’t argue.

“Meiling.” Seo Yui called her name.

“…What?”

“You’re not just worried about Crystal’s chairman and Yein’s secret, are you?”

“…What are you talking about?”

“You’re worried that if we go to Crystal, Yein might add someone else to the squad.”

Meiling’s shoulders jerked.

“Ahh…” Lumina murmured, as if realizing it now.

Meiling whipped her head around and glared daggers at her. Lumina froze, looking guilty.

Meiling looked ready to snap—but seeing Lumina’s frightened face, she shut her mouth, scowled, and asked instead,

“…And you two don’t care? If someone new joins the squad?”

Seo Yui nodded.

“If Yein brings someone in, it’ll be someone he trusts. I don’t think he’d ever add anyone who’d hurt us.”

That’s exactly what I mean! You trust him too much! Meiling screamed inwardly.

“A new member…” Lumina muttered, her face clouding.

“The most likely one is Eleanor, isn’t it?”

“……”

“……”

Silence fell heavy in Seo Yui’s room.

“…Still, I think transferring to Crystal would be best for all of us. Objectively speaking.”

“Hah. The way you said that makes it sound like you’ve got your own doubts too.”

“……”

“Hey! Don’t look away!”

And so their “meeting” continued, without reaching any clear conclusion.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, two others were having a conversation on the very same topic.

----------------------------------------

“So you’re saying you’re not planning to transfer right now?”

The question came from across the sofa—Principal Im Sungyeon.

Even on a Sunday morning, she had summoned me to her office.

“That’s right,” I said, meeting his eyes.

“Which means you’re leaving the possibility open for later,” she pressed.

I stayed silent. Im Sungyeon sighed.

“Nam Yein.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can’t you stay at Gwangcheon?”

“……”

“I’ll give your squad as much support as possible. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen. It won’t be the same as Crystal, but I’ll do everything Gwangcheon can provide.”

“You know as well as I do, Principal. No matter what you try, you can’t match Crystal’s environment.”

“……”

She closed her mouth.

“There’s no helping it. The difference in funding is like night and day. Crystal pours everything into their academy. Forward, meanwhile, has left Gwangcheon to rot.”

Frayed protective belts, drones and training bots that constantly broke down.

No research labs, no scholars being nurtured. It wasn’t really an academy at all—more like a cram school for hunter licenses.

That was Gwangcheon.

Worse still, their brutal method was to throw students into real dungeons, letting them live or die—and only training the ones who survived.

No wonder no trainee ever chose to stay if other academies extended an invitation.

“……”

Im Sungyeon knew this too, which was why she remained silent.

“Principal.”

“…Yes?”

“Gwangcheon’s material support has its limits. But you have something more valuable you can give me, don’t you?”

Im Sungyeon’s expression shifted.

At first, the principal’s eyes widened in surprise, but then her face hardened into one of deep thought.

“You’re not talking about money or rare items, are you? If that’s what you wanted, Crystal would be the obvious choice.”

“That’s right.”

If I transferred to Crystal, I could get both financial support and rare items—along with a guaranteed future after graduation. That alone told her material gain wasn’t what I was after.

“…Nam Yein.”

“Yes?”

“You do realize how… abnormal your existence is, don’t you?”

“What do you mean by abnormal?”

“Strength F. Energy F. Spirit C. Even if you became a hunter, you’d be lucky to clear the third floor of a dungeon. With stats like that, it wouldn’t be strange if you died during your very first field exercise here at Gwangcheon. And yet here you are, not only alive, but holding the HAUT trophy.”

So. She’d noticed.

Not surprising—anyone who knew the original “scenario” would find my existence suspicious.

“If I’m abnormal, then so are you, Principal.”

I grinned.

“The Sungyeon I know would have screamed the moment she heard I turned down Oh Seongcheon’s offer. She would’ve ordered me to march straight to him, apologize, and accept the proposal. Isn’t that what she would’ve done?”

“……”

Im Sungyeon’s face stiffened.

“And that’s not all. After Jeong Jooil abandoned me and Lumina in the dungeon, you expelled him the very next day. Then, despite us being only first-years, you nominated us as HAUT candidates. You kept testing us, even sparring with us yourself. Almost like you wanted us to grow. That’s not the kind of education Gwangcheon is known for, is it?”

“…Pff.”

Sungyeon let out a sound—half laugh, half sigh.

“So, you noticed. That I’m not really Im Sungyeon.”

Her tone shifted completely. No more formal language. The icy authority vanished.

“It was too much, you know. Playing the role of a woman in her late fifties, a principal no less. Why me? Why not one of the many trainees? Why did I have to be stuck as this villainess? It’s absurd.”

She sounded less like a teacher now, more like a classmate venting.

After a long sigh, she looked at me. “You too, right? Latessai.”

“Latessai…? What’s that?”

“W-What???”

Her face twisted with panic. I couldn’t help laughing.

“Just kidding.”

“God, don’t do that!” she snapped, irritation flaring across her face. “My heart nearly stopped.”

“Sorry.”

“Ugh… whatever. Since it’s come to this, let’s trade real names. Mine’s Lee Han-ye.”

“Lee Han-ye,” I repeated softly.

She shuddered at the sound.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just… being called by my real name feels so weird. I’ve only ever heard ‘Im Sungyeon’ or ‘Principal.’ It’s… unsettling. Anyway, what’s your real name?”

“Hong Hee-cheol.”

“And your age?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Whoa. Way older than me.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“……”

“…Why are you staring like that?”

Because it was hard to wrap my head around—a nineteen-year-old girl trapped inside that face.

“You must’ve had it rough.”

“It was awful. Do you know how many times I almost slipped up? Every time, I had to put on a stern, overbearing act just to bluff my way through.”

I nodded. That did sound like her.

“But Brother Hee-cheol…”

“……”

“Why the weird face again?”

“…Nothing. Go on.”

Hearing ‘brother’ in Im Sungyeon’s voice almost made me choke.

“Brother, did you clear Latessai on Hard Mode too, before coming here?”

“Hard Mode?”

Han-ye nodded.

So even clearing Hard Mode could drag someone into this world?

I’d cleared Hardcore. My mind flashed back to that day.

[Congratulations. You are the first in the world to defeat the Hidden Boss.]

[A new difficulty has been unlocked for top-tier players.]

“……”

I thought of another possibility and asked carefully, “Han-ye. Do you remember the message that appeared before you came here?”

“Of course. I’ll never forget it,” she said firmly.

“It said, ‘Congratulations. You are the first in the world to fully clear the Gwangcheon Scenario.’”

“!”

“Then: ‘A new difficulty has been unlocked for top-tier players.’ That’s what came up.”

The first to fully clear the Gwangcheon Scenario?

It felt like a hammer to the skull.

I’d raised countless characters, cleared every academy’s scenarios—or so I thought. But apparently, there was a “true clear” of Gwangcheon I’d never seen.

“Brother, what’s wrong? Are you… angry?”

Her voice drifted past my ear.

No. That’s not the most important thing right now.

It mattered, yes. But there were more pressing questions.

If there are different conditions to be brought into this world, then that means there are likely more players hidden out there besides me and Han-ye.

And that might be the most crucial fact of all.

“Han-ye.”

“Um… could you not call me Han-ye like that? Feels like an interrogation. Just say Han-ye casually, please.”

“Alright. Han-ye.”

“Mm.”

“What’s your ability?”

I had to know.

(End of Chapter)