The day Haru cut his hair drew an explosive reaction, and instead of the Four Heavenly Kings, the cringeworthy and insane title “Class A-nims” ended up spreading across all of school. As attention and eyes increased, so did envy and jealousy. And among them, Donghyeok, who consistently directed hostility toward me, was no exception.
Since the last incident, it seemed he had completely marked me as an enemy—his hostility only grew worse by the day. Whenever he had the chance, Donghyeok would glare at me, but Sihyeon cleanly ignored him.
Instead, he invested his time in adapting to the unfamiliar school and his abilities.
While Haru got used to people’s attention and worked on fixing his stutter, Sihyeon diligently went around observing classes, absorbed in copying skills. He practiced his Copy ability whenever he had time, and didn’t neglect practicing healer skills either, steadily increasing his proficiency.
There were several times he exhausted all his mana while trying to get better at managing it, collapsing from depletion. Having gained a rough sense of mana consumption per skill, Sihyeon realized that if anything, he had more mana than others—not less.
The problem was simply that healer skills had abysmal efficiency, consuming an enormous amount of mana per use.
When he first learned that during a theory class, Sihyeon couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been scammed. There was a reason why no Duals in history had chosen the healer class—it was a monster class that devoured mana.
Even if he lamented this belated realization, it wasn’t like his class would disappear, so all Sihyeon could do was shed tears of blood.
Studying, training, collapsing onto his bed in the dorm to rest. Even in the repetitive, hamster-wheel-like daily life, something new always happened at Strongest High, and he let time pass thinking even that was a kind of talent. March 30 approached in the blink of an eye.
Pressing his Pairing, Sihyeon looked at the holographic window that appeared in his vision. It was a notice that had arrived a week ago.
[Monthly Evaluation Notice]
First Monthly Evaluation of First-Year, First Semester
Topic: Survival
Details: Survive for three days in a virtual field inhabited by various Irregulars ranging from Containment-level to maximum Hazard-level threats, using any methods.
Type: Point-based system using virtual reality
Date: March 30, Periods 1–8 (70 hours in virtual reality)
Even after reading it again, the notice was the same. Sihyeon took out his phone and checked the date. March 30. The day of the first monthly evaluation was today.
“Did they say to gather at the field this time?”
“It’s the auditorium, Min-ah. What are we gonna do about your terrible memory?”
“Just stop at the first sentence, will you.”
Hamin clicked his tongue in irritation, and Haeun laughed carelessly. Watching the two bicker endlessly without getting tired of it, Sihyeon withdrew his gaze and checked on Haru. Since there had been the unprecedented allowance of not wearing uniforms during the monthly evaluation, everyone in Room 207 was dressed comfortably.
Hamin wore a black hoodie with beige shorts, and Haeun wore a gray sweatshirt with black shorts. It wasn’t like they had planned to match in shorts, but since shorts were more comfortable than long pants for activity, Sihyeon was also wearing a long-sleeve training top with training shorts. And Haru—
“Hyung, if you go out like that, you’ll be cold.”
He was wearing a short-sleeve shirt and shorts.
“Ah….”
At Sihyeon’s remark, Haru looked down at his clothes. Hearing the short sigh, Sihyeon’s eyes turned to Hamin. If someone asked who among the Four Heavenly Kings he’d gotten closest to over the past month, it would be Hamin.
In Sihyeon’s eyes, Hamin was the most normal among the Four Heavenly Kings, and to Hamin—who had been living among abnormal people—Sihyeon was surprisingly normal. After exchanging a few conversations, they naturally grew closer. Not close enough to call friends, but comfortable enough.
“Lee Hamin, lend Haru hyung some clothes.”
As he spoke naturally, Hamin frowned as if annoyed, unable to tell whether it was a request or an order.
“Ban Haru has his own clothes.”
“Can’t you just lend him yours?”
“…….”
Haru hadn’t brought much from the lab. That meant he had very few spare clothes. Sihyeon had only learned that afterward and suggested going to buy some, but there wasn’t enough time to prepare clothes by today. And having Haru wear his own clothes was out of the question—their size difference was too big; it would be a disaster.
So the only option was to ask someone in Room 207 with a similar build to Haru.
Sihyeon’s blue eyes looked at Hamin. Though it seemed like there was a reason, Sihyeon didn’t explain the details, and Hamin, looking slightly uncomfortable, glanced at Haru.
“Just take anything and wear it.”
Since he had already put on his shoes and didn’t want to take them off and go back in, Sihyeon nodded.
“Hyung, he says just take something.”
“My closet’s basically his closet now.”
“What did you just say?”
“Just pick anything and put it on him.”
Even though it clearly wasn’t what he had said, he lied. Sihyeon stared at him half-lidded, and when their eyes met, Hamin took on a “don’t wear it if you don’t like it” attitude, making Sihyeon sigh. More than anyone, he knew that Hamin had already softened a lot.
He’s not even this bad with me, so why does he act like that with Haru?
Not wanting to argue over something trivial, Sihyeon swallowed his words and opened the closet door for Haru, who was hesitating awkwardly in front of it.
And then—
“Well, damn.”
A hollow laugh slipped out.
“Ah, now what.”
“Look at these clothes. Are you running a runway?”
The moment the closet opened, rows of clothes spilled into view—at a glance, there were dozens. It was quite a sight, clothes hanging in excess of what one could even wear.
“What’s this? See-through?”
You wear stuff like this?
Spotting something particularly eye-catching, he pulled out a hanger in shock. Hamin’s face flushed red as he walked into the room with his shoes still on. Tap—shoe prints marked the floor, making Sihyeon frown.
“Who wears shoes inside the room?”
“My father’s secretary picked those out. Not me.”
Ignoring Sihyeon’s words entirely, Hamin snatched the clothes back. The tips of his ears were red. Sihyeon had noticed before—Lee Hamin was the type whose embarrassment showed easily on his face. Watching him, it was easy to understand why Haeun liked to tease him.
His reactions were fun.
“Who said anything? Since you’re here, pick out something for Haru hyung to wear.”
“I said just grab anything.”
Even as he grumbled, his hands carefully selected clothes. Pulling out a black hooded zip-up, Hamin handed the hanger—not to Haru, but to Sihyeon. Sihyeon accepted it.
“Why give it to me?”
“You hand it to him.”
“Why go this far?”
At the unusually sensitive reaction, Sihyeon glanced at Haru, wondering if something had happened between them that he didn’t know about. Noticing the meaning in his gaze, Haru shook his head, as if he didn’t know either. It was puzzling.
“Let’s just get you dressed first. That should work as an outer layer.”
Despite all his complaining, Hamin had thoughtfully picked an outer layer. They quickly got Haru dressed and headed to the auditorium. At the entrance—now practically a meeting plaza—they ran into Dawoon’s group. As if they had coordinated again, Dawoon and Jihye were wearing matching training sets in different colors.
“Good morning, Sihyeon.”
“Yeah, morning.”
Dawoon greeted him with her eyes, and Jihye spoke aloud. Strangely, Kang Sihyeon’s longtime friend was Dawoon, yet Sihyeon himself felt more at ease with Jihye. As he glanced at Dawoon, her brown eyes turned toward him.
“What?” she seemed to ask. As always, he could only answer that it was nothing.
Entering the auditorium, it was packed with students. Geonwoo and Seowoo arrived late and joined the Class A group. The principal’s voice rang out just after all eight of Class A had gathered.
“Ahem, greetings to all freshmen students of Strongest High.”
“Hello!”
Now that he had dropped the word “freshmen,” the students responded energetically. Quite lively for the morning.
“Did you sleep well last night? Since this is your first monthly evaluation after enrollment, some of you may have been too nervous to sleep…”
Sihyeon half-listened, half-tuned out the principal’s formal greetings. After several minutes, the unnecessary preamble finally ended, and the explanation began.
“This monthly evaluation, Survival, will be conducted using virtual game devices provided by the Korean Awakened Association. Through these devices, you will access a virtual world populated with numerous Containment-level and Hazard-level Irregulars. Your objective is to survive through all 8 periods—equivalent to 2 nights and 3 days in the virtual world. Any method is acceptable. You will earn 1,000 points for each day you survive, and various actions you perform in the field will be evaluated and scored by the system, so keep that in mind. And—”
“…….”
The principal suddenly stopped speaking and looked at the students. Having already experienced this kind of pause once before, the students stared back anxiously.
Silence weighed heavily over the room. It felt different from the Placement Test or class tests. Then, like a bomb dropping, the announcement came.
“And, the bottom eight students with the lowest scores in the final results will be expelled from Strongest High.”
“…….”
The students’ mouths fell open. As they stood there in shock, the principal added that the eight expelled students would transfer to Beomin High School to receive new training. It seemed meant to reassure them, but instead only heightened their anxiety.
That was only natural.
Beomin High School was a military-style school that trained the unit “Beom,” composed solely of Awakened ranked D or below.
Beom handled the aftermath of what Mir Military swept through.
In other words—cleaners.
No one would welcome falling from a prestigious Mir Military candidate with a guaranteed future to becoming part of Beom.
“A merit-based school.”
Sihyeon made a tired expression at the school that upheld what it had said during the Placement Test to an almost excessive degree. But whether he was fed up or the students were horrified, the school’s policy didn’t bend in the slightest.
Amid the widespread confusion, the additional explanation ended, and 96 devices were brought into the auditorium. Watching students enter them one by one, Sihyeon turned to Haru and met his gaze.
“Do your best,” he conveyed. Haru nodded.
With that as the last thing he saw, Sihyeon stepped into the device. The lid closed automatically, and he shut his eyes.
A voice rang in his ears: “Connecting to the field.”
His vision flickered.
When he opened his eyes again, Sihyeon was standing in the middle of a forest filled with dead trees.
