In the game, I had never encountered a situation like this before.
Unless there was a special event, once the protagonist cleared a dungeon, the scene would always shift automatically back to the school.
In this tutorial, there was supposed to be a big event where Jeong Jooil was shocked that someone had actually completed the unreasonable task he had assigned…
'Why didn’t that event trigger?'
Could it be because it wasn’t the protagonist but a supporting character who cleared it?
That was the only explanation that made sense.
“Yein, w-what should we do?”
“Let’s head out to the main road first. If we go back toward the checkpoint we entered through, we can take a bus or call a cab from there.”
“O-Okay. Let’s do that.”
“But first, let’s unequip our gear.”
“Right.”
I turned my equipment back into icons and stored them in my inventory. Then, I did the same with Lumina’s gear—except for the Bloody Bone Dagger.
“People might get curious if they see this kind of gear. I’ll hold onto it for now and give it back later.”
“Sorry for the trouble… I’ll make sure to get my own inventory next time.”
“Then let’s go to the Hunter Market together this weekend. Selling the materials we got today should be enough to cover the cost.”
“Ah, okay!!”
Lumina replied with a bright smile.
We headed toward the checkpoint where we’d originally entered by bus.
Armed adult Hunters were standing guard there.
‘Right, they’re Hunters who are also government employees.’
According to Latessai’s setting, in major cities that survived the war—like Seoul—Hunters were either hired as public servants or contracted through guilds to handle public duties.
There were even military units made entirely of Hunters.
The Hunters who spotted us instructed us to stop and slowly approach them.
“Those uniforms… Are you first-year students from Gwangcheon?” Asked one Hunter, carrying a shield on his back.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Why are you two coming out so late? The bus already left.”
Another Hunter with a crossbow eyed Lumina and me suspiciously.
“We’re wondering the same thing. We were told to survive for five hours in the Catacombs, and when we came out, no one was there.”
“What? Five hours!?”
“No way. What kind of assignment is that for first-years?”
Both Hunters looked stunned.
“You’re lucky you’re safe. Did you contact the school?”
The shield-bearing Hunter asked, sounding much gentler than before.
“We figured we’d explain everything once we got back. Besides, we didn’t think anyone would come to pick us up anyway.”
Hearing that, the two adult Hunters gave us pitying looks.
“I’ve heard the rumors about Gwangcheon Academy, but this is just shameful.”
“Hey, not in front of the kids…”
The crossbow Hunter glanced at us and quickly added,
“Ahem. Anyway, just follow the road for about 600 meters and you’ll find a bus stop.”
The shield Hunter pointed past the checkpoint toward the road.
“You have a navigation app, right?” Asked the crossbow Hunter.
“Ah, y-yes. I do,”
Lumina said, brushing her smartwatch.
From there, we caught a bus at the closest stop and transferred a few times until we finally made it back to Gwangcheon.
“W-We actually made it back…”
Lumina stared at the school gate.
The sun had set during our return, and the surroundings were dim.
“You two over there. What are you doing at the school gate?”
‘What the—?’
Startled by the sudden voice, I turned around—and froze.
‘What kind of event is this now…?’
She wore a dark brown suit, had a slim build, and sported a head of hair that alternated between black and white as if it had been dyed on purpose.
But what stood out more than anything—
“Hic…”
Lumina hiccuped in fear.
Was the sharp, predatory gaze that struck us like we’d just run into a hunting tiger.
“I asked what you’re doing here at this hour. In full combat gear, no less.”
‘Lim Seongyeon…’
The woman standing in front of us was none other than the principal of Gwangcheon Academy.
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“A-Ah, w-we… um…”
I could see Lumina’s lips trembling.
“…We’re just returning from our dungeon field practice.”
“Field practice? Just the two of you?”
Her eyes narrowed sharply. She clearly thought we were lying.
“Yes. Mr. Jeong Jooil gave us the assignment to survive five hours on the first floor of the Catacombs.”
“Ah. He’s still handing out that ridiculous and useless task?”
Lim Seongyeon scoffed.
“Then why are the two of you the only ones here? I saw the school bus return hours ago.”
“I was wondering the same thing.” I tried my best to sound calm, “We stayed the full five hours, and when we came out, the bus and the teachers were gone.”
“……?”
Puzzlement flickered across her face.
“What did you just say?”
“I said, we stayed the full five hours, and when we came out, no one was there.”
She stared at us silently.
“Names?”
“Nam Yein.”
“L-L-Lumina Cueva!”
“You’re the only students from Class B who successfully completed the make-up field training on Saturday, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Even after hearing my answer, she didn’t completely let go of her suspicion.
“Explain how you managed to survive five hours in the Catacombs.”
That was easy.
“There were a lot of monsters in the Catacombs, but they were very slow. And since they were simple-minded, they just followed us around. We used that to lure them into narrow hallways, and then I used my ability—Spike Bombs—to eliminate groups at once. Lumina used her Stealth ability to watch for approaching enemies and also to ambush strong monsters.”
I answered without hesitation.
“There were times when too many monsters appeared, and it got dangerous. But then we discovered a shrine room. Once we activated the shrine, the monsters went dormant again. So after that, we prioritized finding shrines to secure our safety.”
“…What about the boss monster?”
she asked, arms crossed.
“You mean the purple mummy that releases poison gas?”
“That’s enough. No need to say more.”
She pulled a tablet out of her small handbag.
“Nam Yein, Lumina Cueva. I’ll award you both 100 merit points.”
“!!”
Lumina’s eyes grew as wide as her fists.
Even I was shocked by the unexpected reaction.
I never imagined I’d be getting merit points from Lim Seongyeon of all people.
“For beginners who just entered the Academy, surviving five hours in a dungeon is commendable. Well done. I look forward to seeing your future achievements. It’s late, so head back to your dorms.”
“Y-Yes, ma’am! T-Thank you, Principal!”
Lumina shouted, bowing deeply.
But Lim Seongyeon was already busy on her phone, not even glancing at us again.
I bowed politely like a good student and entered the school gates with Lumina.
“I-I can’t believe it. We actually got praised by the principal… and 100 merit points too.”
“Yeah, unbelievable.”
In all four of my playthroughs of the Gwangcheon scenario, I had never once encountered an event like this.
‘Maybe it’s a hidden event. Unlike other academies, I haven’t played Gwangcheon’s scenario much.’
A reward of 100 merit points was nothing to scoff at.
With this, I could buy more materials from the school’s supply shop, combine them with the bones I got from the Catacombs, and craft several accessories.
That would sell for far more than just raw materials at the Hunter Market.
Still, what bothered me was that the one who gave out the merit points was Lim Seongyeon.
“Well then, see you tomorrow.”
At the fork between the boys’ and girls’ dormitories, I waved to Lumina.
“Yeah! See you tomorrow, Yein!”
Lumina gave me a bright smile and ran off toward the girls’ dorm.
As I returned to the boys’ dorm and made my way up to the fourth floor, the Class B students wandering the hallway widened their eyes when they spotted me.
“Gasp!”
“It’s Nam Yein!”
“He’s alive!!”
They swarmed around me in an instant.
“Were you really in the Catacombs all this time?”
One of them asked with wide eyes.
I nodded, and a collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
“Jeong Jooil said you were definitely dead…”
“What would a coward who didn’t even go into the dungeon know!”
“Maybe he didn’t even know what kind of monsters are in the Catacombs?”
“That makes sense. That’s why he gave such a ridiculous assignment.”
They started talking freely, voices rising with every comment.
“I’m tired, I’m heading in.”
“Ah, uh, yeah.”
“Sorry.”
I passed through the crowd and entered my room at the end of the hall.
Bzzzzt.
My smartwatch buzzed. A call was coming in.
It wasn’t Lumina, or any of my family, and the number wasn’t saved in my contacts.
I hesitated for a moment before tapping the answer button.
“Hello? Yein!”
That voice sounded familiar.
“Yein! It’s me, your teacher! Are you okay?!”
‘Ah. I remember now.’
It was Jeong Yeongyeong, our homeroom teacher.
“Yes, teacher. I’m safe.”
“Thank goodness…”
I could hear her sniffling on the other end.
“When I heard you two hadn’t come back from the dungeon, I was so worried… The principal just told me you returned to school.”
Right, from her perspective, she must’ve thought we were dead.
“Is Lumina okay too?”
“Yes. She returned to the dorm safely.”
“I see. That’s good. You both did so well. The principal praised you.”
Her voice trembled with emotion, a mix of relief and joy that came through clearly.
It made me realize just how much she genuinely cared about her students.
“I’m going to formally protest to Mr. Jeong Jooil so he can never assign such an irresponsible and absurd dungeon assignment again. I’ll raise it with the school administration too.”
‘That’ll probably be in vain.’
A wave of pity rose in me.
The reason Jeong Jooil could get away with such absurd assignments was because of how twisted Gwangcheon Academy’s attitude toward students had become.
Jeong Yeongyeong wasn’t wrong, but she alone couldn’t change the system.
“Well, you must be exhausted. Get plenty of rest tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay, thank you, teacher.”
After the call ended, I saved her number to my contacts.
“I really hope all this ends with just a little fuss and nothing worse.”
With that wistful thought, I stepped out to wash up.
The next day.
Something completely unexpected happened.
–Notice–
Effective immediately, Mr. Jeong Jooil, the instructor in charge of First-Year Dungeon Practicum, has been dismissed for excessive negligence.
Dungeon practicum for first-years will be suspended until a new instructor is assigned next week.
The bulletin board on the first floor of the main building was packed with students.
“Jeong Jooil got fired?!”
“Wow! That’s so satisfying!”
“We finally don’t have to see that guy anymore?”
“Justice has been served!”
As the students buzzed with excitement, I read the notice again just to be sure.
It still said exactly what I thought it did.
‘What is going on?’
Originally, Jeong Jooil was supposed to assign two more tutorial tasks before getting killed by a monster in an incident that acted as a precursor to the main storyline.
‘So there’s no way he was supposed to get fired at this point.’
Could this mean I had triggered a previously unseen path in the Gwangcheon scenario?
Or maybe things were diverging simply because I’m Nam Yein, not the original protagonist?
‘…There’s no need to panic. Even if the scenario shifts, I still know all the hidden truths and side stories the characters are hiding.’
Still, I couldn’t completely shake the unease.
What if all this triggered a butterfly effect?
“In my eyes, there’s no reason to carry ordinary stones in a silk pouch. That is my philosophy—and the policy of this academy.”
Principal Lim Seongyeon stood at the front of the sudden morning faculty meeting, speaking firmly to the teachers gathered before her.
“That applies not only to students but to teachers as well. Anyone who lacks the discernment to recognize true talent has no place teaching at Gwangcheon. Keep that in mind.”
Jeong Jooil’s dismissal wasn’t up for discussion. It was a decision she had already made and was simply announcing.
Of course, Jeong Jooil protested.
But a few minutes after stepping into the principal’s office, he returned with a pale face and left the school without saying a word.
“And Ms. Jeong Yeongyeong.”
“Yes?”
“If Nam Yein and Lumina Kreba require any support, don’t hesitate to bring it to me. Their talents have been proven. I considered moving them to Class A, but I believe letting them continue to compete with Class A will offer everyone better opportunities for growth.”
“I understand. I’ll follow your guidance, Principal.”
“That concludes my message. Thank you, everyone.”
With that, Lim Seongyeon left the meeting room.
As soon as she exited, a sense of relief spread across the faculty’s faces.
Just being in the same room with her felt like it drained your HP.
“Are there any other agenda items?” asked the vice principal, a man in a gray suit and horn-rimmed glasses.
No one answered.
“Then this meeting is adjourned. Please return to your duties.”
Everyone stood up and began leaving the room.
“Ms. Jeong Yeongyeong.”
“Oh, Mr. Kim Sangsik.”
Just as Yeongyeong was rising with her tablet in hand, Kim Sangsik—the Class A homeroom teacher—called out to her.
“Even if the students don’t say what they want, I recommend granting them access to the training rooms and simulation battle arenas. It’ll be a huge opportunity for them.”
“Yes, I’ll do that. Thank you for the advice.”
Kim Sangsik nodded and left the room first.
Left alone, Yeongyeong’s expression slowly clouded over.
She hadn’t expected Jeong Jooil to be fired outright.
All she had done was voice her concerns to the principal about how dangerous the current dungeon practicum was during their call yesterday.
She had planned to raise the issue formally at today’s meeting, but everything had already happened before she even sat down.
Since she hadn’t actually wanted Jeong Jooil to be forced out entirely, the shock lingered.
After sitting in silence for a moment, she straightened up, forced a smile onto her face, and stood.
“Alright. Time to work hard for the students again today.”
With that, she left the meeting room.
“They canceled practicum?!”
Class A classroom.
A voice filled with irritation rang out.
Even though every seat was filled, the atmosphere was dead, like a room full of corpses.
Most students sat in stiff silence, eyes fixed solely on the chalkboard, as if too afraid to look behind them.
“Yes… The instructor was suddenly dismissed, so…”
Cheongwang replied carefully.
In front of him sat a girl with long black hair tied into twin tails, her legs crossed.
She looked two or three years younger than the rest of the class.
“Tch. I shouldn’t have even come. I was hoping to blow off some stress with monsters.”
Cheongwang and his two lackeys didn’t say a word. They simply bowed their heads in front of her.
“Hey.”
“……”
“Are you deaf?”
“…Yes, Lady Meiling.”
Cheongwang answered, still bowing.
“Get permission for free practice in the Spirit Forest after class today. I’m going in the evening.”
“Today, ma’am?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
With that, the girl stood up.
“Move.”
Her cold glare pierced the boys in front of her.
Without a word, the three stepped aside as she swept out of the classroom.
The moment she left, relieved sighs echoed throughout the room.
“…Damn it.”
Cheongwang’s cheeks flushed faintly. His clenched fists at his sides were trembling.
(End of Chapter)