“Hi.”
“Is this really the time to be saying ‘hi’?”
“Is it not?”
“……”
Blinking as he answered, Geonwoo was met with Sihyeon’s dumbfounded stare. It was obvious—he must’ve been standing there blankly before getting dragged in.
Sihyeon could practically picture it: even as something grabbed his leg and pulled, Geonwoo would’ve just tilted his head in confusion. Letting out a sigh, Sihyeon extended a hand toward him as he sat on the ground.
Still, the fact that he was alive was something.
As Sihyeon reached out, Geonwoo tilted his head again. Sihyeon stretched his hand out once more.
“I’m telling you to grab it and get up. You’re not planning to die here together, are you?”
Did you get any points? he asked, as if making casual conversation. But Geonwoo didn’t answer. He just stared blankly.
Sihyeon looked at him, a bad feeling creeping in.
No way.
Yeah, right—that couldn’t be.
But… if it was Baek Geonwoo, it was possible.
With that thought, Sihyeon parted his lips slightly, staring at him with half certainty, half suspicion. Those clear, deep blue eyes only stared back blankly.
“…Don’t tell me you don’t know how to check your points?”
“Yeah.”
“……”
Wow. That’s something to be proud of. Truly impressive.
When he first met Geonwoo, Sihyeon had thought he was a quiet, cold guy. That version of himself needed to reflect.
He wasn’t quiet and cold. He just didn’t think.
Well, it wasn’t that he literally had no thoughts… he was just always spaced out.
The moment Sihyeon realized that, it felt like his entire illusion had shattered.
Recalling that sense of devastation, Sihyeon explained how to check points while looking at Geonwoo—at least his face was easy on the eyes. Letting out a short “Ah,” Geonwoo checked his score.
Sihyeon had expected it the moment he said he didn’t know how—but still.
His score was 0.
“…You, seriously.”
I don’t even know what to say. Pressing his forehead, Sihyeon swallowed back a rising headache. How could someone have 0 points? At this rate, he might actually end up sending him to Beomin High School. Frowning, Sihyeon grabbed Geonwoo by the shoulders.
“Baek Geonwoo, how much mana do you have?”
“All of it.”
“Have you used any skills?”
“I just got dragged in.”
Then what were you doing this whole time? Sihyeon swallowed the question. Gripping Geonwoo’s shoulders, he steeled his resolve.
There was no way he could let the “face of their school” get shipped off to another one.
“Then let’s get out.”
The Earth Spider’s domain would automatically disappear if it was killed. If there were survivors inside, they’d be returned to the surface the moment it died.
Sihyeon pulled Geonwoo to his feet. When the Earth Spider came to feed—that would be their chance.
“You know how to use Taunt, right?”
“Yeah.”
“How long do you think you can hold it? Let’s say the opponent is around Lee Hamin’s level.”
Taunt—a skill that amplifies the target’s hostility and locks their attention onto the user. A classic aggro-pulling technique. Its duration depended on the opponent’s level—a Tanker skill.
Using Hamin as a benchmark, Geonwoo briefly closed and opened his eyes before answering after a short pause.
“Ten minutes.”
“If your shield breaks?”
“Five.”
The difference was huge—just depending on whether he had a shield or not. Then again, lasting five minutes without a shield was impressive in itself.
Sihyeon’s gaze slid to Geonwoo’s shield. It gleamed silver—clearly high quality. A frown creased his face. His pale eyes dropped to his own hand.
He had a pink staff.
It looked like something made of plastic you’d buy at a dollar store.
Sihyeon glanced back at Geonwoo’s shield, taking in the detailed engravings before looking at him again.
“Let’s assume ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
That calm answer irritated him for no reason.
The initial plan that came to mind was simple: while Geonwoo held out, Sihyeon would Copy Donghyeok’s skill and deliver a decisive blow. Considering how much mana Donghyeok had poured into it, using it several times should be enough to take down the Earth Spider.
But if he did that, he’d have to survive the remaining two days relying on just that one Copy.
Feeling a renewed desperation for an attack skill, Sihyeon changed his approach.
The Healer class was meant for support and assistance. So he would switch roles. He had chosen Healer for a reason. He wasn’t a damage dealer—he was support.
“Do you have any attack skills?”
He was a Tanker. Even if his role was to take hits, he should at least have some basic offensive capability. As expected, Geonwoo nodded.
“I do.”
“Are they strong?”
“…I’m not sure.”
“What if you poured almost all your mana into it?”
“……”
No matter how strong a Tanker’s attack skill was, it wouldn’t surpass a damage dealer’s. It would probably need that much investment to be effective.
Yet Geonwoo only blinked silently at him.
“I’ll protect you.”
Geonwoo’s eyes shifted slightly. Sihyeon spoke again.
“You’re worried about what happens after your mana runs out, right? I’ll put up a barrier and we’ll retreat somewhere safe. We can hold out until your mana recovers. Or—do you want to die here together and end up at Beomin High?”
His tone hadn’t changed, but his words weren’t particularly kind. Geonwoo stared at him as if thinking, then looked down at his own hand. Clenching and unclenching his fist, he raised his head.
He’d made a decision.
“…It’ll probably be strong.”
“How strong?”
“About Yoo Seowoo’s level.”
Sihyeon nodded. That was enough.
“Take this.”
“……?”
“What, are you planning to just bash it with your shield? You need a sword.”
Sihyeon grabbed a decent-looking sword from among the dead students and handed it to Geonwoo. He himself found a small dagger and gripped it.
Geonwoo seemed hesitant about using a weapon taken from a corpse.
Sihyeon wasn’t.
It wasn’t like they were truly dead. If anything, it was like being forcibly logged out of a game. And regardless, the living had to survive.
Thinking that, Sihyeon picked up the sword and turned—only to find Geonwoo looking at him as if asking why are you taking one too? Sihyeon shrugged.
“I’ve got a use for it.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Yeah.”
How? Geonwoo practically asked with his eyes.
Holding the dagger in one hand, Sihyeon adjusted his grip on his staff with the other and deployed a barrier. Unsure of the optimal strength, he used about a quarter of his mana.
“We’re switching roles.”
“How?”
“I’ll be the Tanker. You be the damage dealer.”
“……?”
“The barrier will act as a sturdy shield. I can handle the Taunt myself, so when the Earth Spider lets its guard down, you strike its abdomen with everything you’ve got.”
Just like how a human takes critical damage when vital points like the neck are hit, Irregulars also suffered amplified damage when their weak points were targeted.
Even if Geonwoo’s damage output was lacking, hitting the Earth Spider’s weak point—its abdomen—would be enough.
“But just in case, you need to hold out until the end. It’s Hazard-level. This won’t be like the Wormman, which was low-tier among Warning-level Irregulars.”
“Okay.”
“You only get one chance. If your attack fails or misses and it targets you—assume it’s over.”
He still had Copy left, but saying it this way would help sharpen Geonwoo’s focus.
As Sihyeon looked at him, Geonwoo returned a doubtful expression.
That was rare.
“…You’re not a Tanker.”
Wow. Looks like he’s using up a lifetime’s worth of thinking today.
Sihyeon had expected him to just go along silently without question, so this unexpected pushback almost made him feel like a parent soothing a worried child.
“I can do it.”
If you can’t trust me, trust my class.
At that, Geonwoo nodded.
He had told Geonwoo to trust his class—Copy—but in reality, Sihyeon had no intention of using anything except his Healer abilities.
Watching Geonwoo accept his blatant lie so easily, Sihyeon felt relieved.
If it had been Haeun or Seowoo, it would’ve been much harder.
“Then let’s rest for now. Our chance is when the Earth Spider comes looking for food.”
He needed to recover the mana he’d used for the barrier. Sitting down wasn’t safe—they could be ambushed—so he leaned against the wall instead.
Seeing that, Geonwoo followed suit and leaned against the wall as well.
Time passed.
—Scritch…
Only after a while did a faint sound reach his ears. Sihyeon straightened and pushed Geonwoo to the side.
“Don’t stay close. Keep your distance so it can’t attack both of us at once.”
The Earth Spider had to target him. That way, Geonwoo could strike its abdomen while it focused on Sihyeon.
Geonwoo obediently moved away.
—Scritch, scritch.
The sound was closer now, growing louder bit by bit.
Sihyeon inhaled.
Scritch.
The sound came again—much louder this time.
Sihyeon brought the dagger he was holding up to the hand gripping his staff.
Rumble.
The ground trembled slightly, and then the massive Earth Spider appeared in the distance.
Exaggeration aside, it looked about the size of a house.
—Scritch!!
For something so large, it moved incredibly fast. Opening its maw, it rushed straight toward him. Its eight legs moved rapidly, two of them twitching violently.
Without hesitation, Sihyeon dragged the dagger across his palm.
“Ugh.”
Pain shot through him, and he let out a short groan. Gripping the staff with his wounded hand, blood dripped steadily onto the ground.
Hiss!
The Earth Spider, agitated, ignored Geonwoo entirely and charged straight for Sihyeon.
The massive creature barreled toward him, filling his vision.
A slow smile curled at Sihyeon’s red lips.
He didn’t have the skill Taunt, but he had something the Earth Spider craved even more.
Its favorite kind of bodily fluid.
Sihyeon’s “Taunt” was a success.
