The academy operates under a strict meritocracy.
It might seem absurd—a system where fame and fortune follow simply from being good at fighting—but it truly works that way.
For instance, to become the student council president, it’s customary to first claim the top spot in the academy’s combat rankings.
Seriously, electing representatives through fistfights? Even orcs might be less foolish than this.
My lack of prominence in this academy society isn’t just to avoid getting tangled in the main storyline, but also because my trait of “perfection” doesn’t align with such a brutish system.
I, Joo-Yidam, feel an inner turmoil whenever I see something inelegant.
On the contrary, when I see things neatly and beautifully arranged, my soul calms down.
To sum me up, that’s who Joo-Yidam is.
However, recently, something—or rather someone—has been grating on my nerves.
Of course, it’s Kang Han, the protagonist of this world and the future savior, who, outside his berserker mode, can’t even kill a single ant properly.
Every time I watch him, I feel a suffocating frustration.
Even now, he’s fumbling around cluelessly in front of me, not even knowing basic café etiquette.
Feeling sorry for him sipping instant coffee alone outside the classroom, I generously decided to treat him to the sweet side of society.
But instead of showing initiative, he just sits there like a helpless chick waiting to be fed.
Bzzz!
The buzzer on the table vibrated loudly, but Kang Han just stared at it, clueless, like a caveman discovering fire for the first time.
What an infuriating sight.
Eventually, I pointed at the buzzer and explained, “When that rings, it means your coffee is ready. You can pick it up at the counter.”
“…Oh, uh, really?”
Even then, Kang Han just sat there, unmoving.
Wow, this is maddening.
Feeling my temper rise, I kept my composure, smiling as I began teaching him basic social etiquette. Of course, I did it with luxury and sophistication.
“Hey, buddy? Usually, when someone pays, the one receiving the treat goes to fetch the coffee and sets up napkins and straws—gratefully, that is.”
“Oh, uh, okay!”
Realizing his mistake, Kang Han jumped up in a fluster, almost dropping the buzzer as he rushed off.
Watching his retreating figure, I sighed. When will he finally grow up?
…Huh?
I slapped my cheeks lightly.
Why am I trying to fix him?
Remember this, Joo-Yidam:
“I just need to hand the protagonist the mental artifact and disappear. No reason to form any emotional attachment. Got it?”
Then, an inner voice retorted:
So why did you bring him to the café in the first place?
Hmm, perhaps even my compassion is near perfection…
Treating a classmate drinking cheap coffee to an expensive, luxurious cup—it’s just a little act of charity, nothing more.
Just as I convinced myself with this plausible reasoning, Kang Han returned with a tray.
On it were two cups of coffee, along with a tissue and a straw for each of us—enough for one per person.
He had done exactly as instructed.
Suppressing my irritation, I found myself feeling a slight sense of accomplishment for teaching him properly.
I picked up my cup with a satisfied smile and added, “Next time, unwrap the straw and leave just the end sticking out of the cup. That’s what people usually do.”
As I unwrapped the straw with a smooth motion, Kang Han looked at me with a confused expression.
After Kang Han revealed his berserker trait, the academy not only revised its curriculum in a day but even brought in a special instructor exclusively for him.
While I wasn’t entirely sure what he was training during his meditation camp, I had my own responsibilities to focus on.
Though the Zen master offered me the chance to rest longer, I declined.
There was too much work to waste time idling at a meditation camp.
One key aspect was attending the academy’s combat training.
With its cutting-edge facilities unmatched anywhere in the world, skipping such an opportunity would be foolish.
Among these, I made the most use of the “Tower Simulation.”
“Hey, Yidam, are you doing that again today?”
“Yes.”
Ignoring the instructor’s question, I headed to the weapons storage in front of the simulation room.
As usual, I stuffed a pistol into the back pocket of my cadet uniform, grabbed a small shield, slung a bow over my back, and held a simulation sword in my right hand.
I also made sure to fill my pockets with daggers and throwing weapons.
“Sigh…“
The combat instructor, watching from the side, couldn’t hide his unease.
Every time I picked up multiple weapons, he would advise me to focus on just one, claiming it was more efficient.
He wasn’t wrong—for ordinary people.
But for someone with the trait of “perfection,” it was a different story.
To be honest, “perfection” was akin to a cheat code, like the “show me the money” trait in some space game.
It guaranteed a certain baseline proficiency no matter which weapon I used.
Not taking full advantage of this would be a waste.
That’s why I trained with multiple weapons, even ones I wasn’t yet fully accustomed to.
Firmly, I declared, “I’ll do it this way. Please start the simulation.”
“…Fine, do whatever you want. Sigh…“
The instructor, realizing his words no longer swayed me, walked away shaking his head to activate the simulation room.
The familiar sound of gossip reached my ears.
“There she goes again.”
“Isn’t she just playing around?”
“Leave her be. She must come from money.”
It was chatter from the girls in my grade.
Or rather, it was outright said for me to hear, so it wasn’t even gossip anymore.
Not that I cared.
I knew well which corporations influenced this world, and I had made a fortune through stocks.
Yes, I was wealthy.
Though, considering the items I’d need to purchase from the black market, it might as well have been nothing.
Generosity often correlates with the thickness of one’s wallet.
In my prosperous heart, there was no room for the gossip of the impoverished.
Getting angry at every little jab wasn’t elegant.
“She uses five weapons at once~”
Humming a tune of unknown origin, I stepped into the simulation room.
The Tower Simulation was one of the academy’s training facilities, notorious among first-year students.
The main reason? It allowed you to “experience death.”
Though technically just a near-death state akin to deep sleep, the forced unconsciousness from being “killed” by monsters left many cadets mentally broken.
Simply put, it crushed them.
For this reason, it was a facility used with great caution.
But as the combat instructor often said:
“Joo-Yidam, this girl is absolutely crazy.”
The memory of his jaded voice made me smirk.
I didn’t deny it. Whether due to my “perfection” trait or not, I couldn’t stop training until I reached a certain level of proficiency.
It wasn’t enough until I felt satisfied.
Whether this obsessive personality was shaped by my trait or not no longer mattered.
I had become a resident of this world, and all that remained was to do what I must.
Hiss!
Steam hissed as the simulation room doors opened.
As I prepared for the virtual battle, I envisioned the forms of my enemies.
“I’ve already experienced most of the monster types from the game.”
Small, medium, and large creatures.
Spirits of ethereal and corporeal forms.
Demonic and angelic monsters.
I had been bridging the gap between game knowledge and reality, refining my movements through countless simulated deaths.
Now, it felt like all that remained was the real thing.
“The main storyline must’ve started by now…”
The protagonist’s initial traits had been revealed to the world, and the academy had begun nurturing a single student.
The world would now turn its gaze to Kang Han and the friendships he and other students would build within the academy.
How romantic yet absurd that the fate of the world and humanity rested on a group of teenagers.
But if that’s how things were, I had to accept it.
I had resolved to watch over them from the shadows.
When they faced trials beyond their strength, that would be the moment for me to step in.
A dagger is most meaningful when it remains hidden.
Not that I’d deny how cool that sounded.
Anyway, rough waters that no individual could face alone were approaching.
All I could do was prepare in my own way.
Once the academy’s official schedule ended, I always headed to one place.
On the outskirts of Seoul, deep in the mountains, lay an abandoned factory.
I had turned it into my personal workshop to store weapons and items that cadet status didn’t permit.
Clink. Clank.
In the dimly lit room, with news about ongoing villain conflicts playing faintly in the background, I assembled parts on my desk.
Piece by piece, they came together, forming the shape of a gun.
Finally, I loaded the magazine with bullets I had painstakingly acquired.
Unlike gun parts, bullets were hard to come by.
While cadets could occasionally be authorized to carry firearms, it required meticulous documentation of how and where ammunition was used, along with body cam footage.
What I was about to do couldn’t leave such traces, so I turned to the black market.
“Hmmm.”
Holding the gun, I aimed at a map pinned 15 meters away on the wall.
At this distance, precise aiming wasn’t necessary. Point shooting would suffice.
I pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The deafening explosion echoed in the confined space.
Shards flew off the wall, and the pierced map fluttered to the ground.
Testing bullets purchased through covert channels was a must before actual combat.
Although I had already disassembled and inspected the gunpowder, it was better to confirm through live firing.
Fortunately, these bullets seemed reliable.
“No issues.”
Both the ammunition and my aim were satisfactory.
My experience with firearms in my past life was limited to an assault rifle during military training, and I had only dabbled with simulation pistols in the academy.
Even so, I could now hit a 15-meter target with just point shooting.
Feeling grateful for the blessings of my trait, I smiled.
“Perfect.”
Years had passed since I became part of this game’s world.
In that time, I had raided several villain hideouts, achieving some success.
Now, it was time to work again, Joo-Yidam.