Chae Yu-hwan, who was actively extorting money from students as Iljinsanggo’s collector, entered the center of the construction site with an undisguised smile.
With both hands in his pockets and stepping over fallen gang members, his walk screamed delinquent.
He approached Baek Geon-ho with a swagger, taking the candy out of his mouth and saying, “This is Yeon Ha-yeon’s work, isn’t it? I saw it all.”
Baek Geon-ho chuckled mirthlessly at the high schooler who provoked him without fear, puffing up his body menacingly.
A low, suppressed voice came from his mouth. “I’m telling you nicely, kids, leave.”
Baek Geon-ho had no desire, not even a speck, to deal with a foolish high schooler for long.
All he could think about was taking care of his gang members and devising a way to get revenge on Yeon Ha-yeon.
However, despite Baek Geon-ho’s chilling warning, Chae Yu-hwan and his gang had no intention of leaving the construction site.
They also had a grudge against Yeon Ha-yeon.
The only mission they had ever failed, they who took on any job to earn money: to kidnap and scare a female student named Lee Dana from Gamsung High.
They suffered immense losses because of the damned princess from Gonju High, who recklessly gave them the mission without properly informing them about the people around her.
Because Yeon Ha-yeon had thoroughly dealt with them and contacted Do Yi-hyun about it being Iljinsanggo’s doing, even Do Yi-hyun, who shouldn’t have been there, came and completely trashed them.
Having been beaten by Yeon Ha-yeon and Do Yi-hyun, and spending some time in the hospital, they had nothing but revenge on their minds.
Chae Yu-hwan, who led the gang, was especially so.
He normally harbored admiration and inferiority complex towards Do Yi-hyun, whom he could never emulate no matter how much he wanted to be like him.
Just thinking of Yeon Ha-yeon, who had humiliated him at the hands of Do Yi-hyun, made his teeth gnash.
Chae Yu-hwan, who usually took on many dirty jobs and had thoroughly dirtied his hands, had nothing to lose. If he couldn’t win with strength, he would make them kneel by other means.
This was his goal.
As Chae Yu-hwan took a step forward, a vein bulged on Baek Geon-ho’s forehead.
He’d given them a chance to escape, but they threw it away themselves.
Thinking they were fools, he threw a punch.
Thwack-
With a dull sound, Chae Yu-hwan, who was hit squarely in the face, tumbled to the ground.
“Does anyone else want a beating?”
When Baek Geon-ho asked with a clenched fist, the gang members’ complexions noticeably paled.
“Heh heh…”
Then, an extremely despicable laugh came from below.
“Ah, the wounds from Yeon Ha-yeon haven’t even healed yet. And you had to hit the exact same spot.”
Baek Geon-ho’s gaze fell at the insolent tone.
Chae Yu-hwan, who was wiping his busted lip with his thumb and smiling with only one corner of his mouth lifted, opened his eyes wide and met Baek Geon-ho’s gaze.
“If you’re done venting, let’s start talking.”
“Huh.”
Baek Geon-ho was dumbfounded but also intrigued.
He dragged a randomly placed chair in the construction site and sat down.
Sitting backwards with his arms resting on the backrest, he watched Chae Yu-hwan dust off his pants and get up from the ground, saying, “Alright, what do you want from us?”
Chae Yu-hwan’s smile deepened as he got the answer he wanted.
That day, in the construction site, the names of Yeon Ha-yeon and the Four Heavenly Kings, Dana and Nabi, and other interconnected friends were mentioned, and the boisterous laughter of the two men echoed.
The setting sun cast long shadows across the concrete rubble, painting the scene in hues of orange and red, as if to mark the strange alliance that was forming amidst the dust and decay.
The air, thick with the scent of damp earth and stale cigarettes, seemed to hum with the unspoken schemes and brewing conflicts that would undoubtedly arise from this unlikely meeting.
Honestly, I’d never had such a mind-boggling dilemma in my life.
“Ugh-” I flopped onto my desk with a deep sigh, feeling something poking my back.
“Are you worried about something?”
It was Yeon Ha-yeon.
To think she’d pay so much attention to me instead of studying.
It was a completely different attitude compared to the beginning of the semester, but I’d gotten used to it.
I glanced back, shook my head, and looked forward again.
After my rank assessment last time, I had directly contacted Do Yi-hyun using the number I got from Gwanaksan.
I lied, saying I didn’t like attention and wanted to operate quietly, so I intentionally manipulated my magic to make my rank come out low.
Do Yi-hyun didn’t even ask if such a thing was possible; he just asked if that was what happened.
To my question about whether it would be okay for me to join the Onsaemiro guild, where the main figures were all Iljinsanggo students, he only replied that he would take care of it.
No matter how much I pondered whether to go to Do Yi-hyun’s guild, which knew my true identity, or join Yeon Ha-yeon’s guild and operate there, no answer came.
I even considered not joining a guild, but there were no awakened individuals who acted alone, so there was a risk of being suspected again.
The weight of this decision pressed down on me like a physical burden.
Every scenario I played out in my head seemed to lead to an equally complicated outcome, leaving me trapped in a loop of indecision.
The thought of exposing my true abilities filled me with a primal dread, a fear of the unknown consequences that could unravel my carefully constructed facade.
Yet, the alternative, remaining hidden and isolated, also felt like a slow suffocation.
‘Why are they trying to find the 0th ranked person… No, it is understandable why they’re looking.’
I was sitting blankly, going back and forth in my thoughts.
The front door opened, and the homeroom teacher entered, holding handouts.
“Turn off your local broadcasts. Everyone, pay attention.”
The classroom fell silent at the teachers’ usual phrase to quiet the students.
The teacher, with a satisfied smile, placed both hands on the podium and spoke.
“It’s noisy these days because of the new status window, isn’t it? Actually, during a time like this, safety is the top priority, so the teachers have been deliberating and having meetings for days.”
The murmurs that had filled the room faded into a respectful silence, a testament to the teacher’s commanding presence.
Even the usually restless students seemed to hold their breath, anticipating the news that would follow.
“Are we not going on our school trip?!”
Before the teacher could finish speaking, a student shouted in a desperate voice.
At those words, the students’ expressions visibly soured. “Boo.”
Boos erupted. It felt like boos directed at me, and my lips involuntarily puckered.
The teacher hit the blackboard a few times with her hand to calm the students, then opened her mouth again.
“Yes, we knew this would happen, so we made a big decision.”
Then, she grinned and held up a handout she had brought, waving it.
The children who saw the words at the very top of the fluttering handout cheered.
The school trip schedule had been released.
“Unfortunately, you can’t go on an overseas trip like your seniors. Given the situation, wouldn’t it be safer to have the school trip domestically?”
A wave of relief washed over the classroom, replacing the earlier disappointment with an almost palpable excitement.
The collective sigh of contentment was audible, as if a great burden had been lifted from their young shoulders.
A few children seemed disappointed by the teacher’s next words, but generally, most of them were noticeably excited at the sole fact that they were going on a school trip.
The teacher, who had handed out the flyers, left the classroom after telling them to get their parents’ signatures by two days later.
The hallway outside buzzed with the excited chatter of students, their voices echoing off the lockers as they discussed the upcoming adventure.
For many, this trip represented a fleeting escape from the mundane routines of school life, a chance to create new memories and forge stronger bonds with their friends.
“Jeju Island, huh?”
Han Ji-bin, who had turned completely around in his seat, muttered, staring intently at the flyer.
The trip was two weeks away.
Many schools had canceled their school trips, but I knew our school would go.
They must trust the Four Heavenly Kings and the Yeon siblings.
Their reputation for strength and reliability undoubtedly played a significant role in the school’s decision, providing a sense of security that other institutions lacked.
‘Before, we even had PE class on the sports field where gates opened.’
If it weren’t for these friends, our school trip would undoubtedly have been canceled.
I carefully read through the meticulously planned 3-night, 4-day school trip itinerary.
Every detail, from the scheduled activities to the allocated free time, seemed to be designed with a thoughtful precision, aiming to maximize enjoyment while ensuring safety.
‘It’ll be good to clear my head.’
Before the school trip, I decided not to join a guild and just focus on diligently clearing gates alone to gain more skills.
I put off my decision and moved around even more secretly than before, closing gates one by one. In two weeks, I managed to complete Quest Lv.4 and gained another skill.
Perhaps because I got necromancy and Bisharp as a bonus last time, this time it seemed to be balancing things out; only a shield was unsealed, and there was no bonus necromancy.
The constant training had become a familiar rhythm, a solitary pursuit that offered a strange sense of peace amidst the growing complexities of my life.
Each cleared gate, each newly acquired skill, felt like a small victory, a step closer to understanding the full extent of my hidden powers.
Meanwhile, time flew by, and the day of the school trip, which I had desperately wished wouldn’t come to avoid a headache-inducing decision, arrived.
Until I was possessed, I never thought I’d go on a school trip, so I guess I was unconsciously a little excited.
I checked my packed travel bag once more the night before and walked light-heartedly to school.
Pulling a small suitcase, I passed through the school gate and entered the sports field, which was bustling with early arrivals.
Buses for each class were lined up in the field.
The morning air was crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of exhaust fumes and the eager anticipation of hundreds of teenagers.
Laughter and excited shouts filled the air, creating a vibrant symphony of youth and freedom.
I was hovering near the front of the Class 3 bus, looking for it, when, “Dana!”
Suddenly, someone linked arms with me and greeted me warmly.
It was Yeon Ha-yeon, dressed entirely in black from head to toe, pulling a black suitcase.
Some schools made students wear uniforms for school trips, but Gamsung High allowed free dress, which made this coordination possible.
Her enthusiasm was infectious, a stark contrast to my own internal turmoil.
“Actually, if nothing happened, I was planning to study on the school trip, you know? But I guess it’s okay to play for about four days.”
Yeon Ha-yeon, who was walking with a cheerful, excited stride and a bright smile, stopped upon seeing the Class 3 bus.
Many of the class students were already there, but the Four Heavenly Kings hadn’t arrived yet.
I greeted Nabi and my friends, then put my suitcase under the bus and boarded.
The bus interior was already a cacophony of chatter and laughter, a testament to the students’ collective excitement.
Finding an empty seat proved to be a mini-challenge in itself, as everyone seemed to have already claimed their spots with friends.
And then I fell into another dilemma.
‘Where should I sit?’
To think I, who lived as I pleased without a single friend, would have such a dilemma.
I saw Yeon Ha-yeon and Nabi, each occupying a seat, and couldn’t rashly move towards either of them.
Recently, the time I spent with Nabi had naturally decreased because I was hanging out with Yeon Ha-yeon, making the decision even harder.
The invisible pull between the two friend groups was palpable, and I felt caught in the middle, a reluctant referee in a silent popularity contest.
My mind raced, trying to weigh the subtle nuances of each choice, the potential implications of aligning myself too closely with one over the other.
Just then, a friend who had recently become close with Nabi passed me and went next to Nabi.
Seeing her sit next to Nabi as if it were obvious, I knew where I should go too.
With a silent sigh of relief, the path forward became clear.
“Here, snacks for you.”
As soon as I sat down, Yeon Ha-yeon held out yogurt-flavored almonds.
I gasped when I saw inside the bag she’d brought separately from her suitcase.
It was full of all sorts of yogurt-flavored snacks.
The sheer volume of snacks was astounding, a testament to Yeon Ha-yeon’s preparedness and perhaps, her own love for the sweet, tangy treat.
“Let’s eat well.”
When I said this, looking at the snacks with a determined gaze, Yeon Ha-yeon burst out laughing, as if asking, “Isn’t that obvious?”
Even though all the seats were filled, the last four seats in the back were empty.
Of course, no one sat there, knowing who they were for.
A silent agreement seemed to exist among the students, a clear understanding of the hierarchy that dictated who occupied those coveted back rows.
With about five minutes left until departure, one by one, brilliant heads started appearing at the front. Blue-black, purple, blonde, and blue hair boarded in order.
They went straight to the very back seats and sat down.
The sudden silence that fell over the bus was almost comical, a collective acknowledgment of their presence.
Finally, the teacher confirmed the headcount, sat in the very front seat, and the bus departed.
The engine rumbled to life, a low hum that vibrated through the floor, and the world outside began to blur as we pulled away from the school, embarking on our unexpected journey.
The hum of the engine and the gentle sway of the bus created a hypnotic rhythm, pulling me deeper into the unfolding adventure.