“How did this happen?”
It was Yoo Seowoo of all people. If he said he wasn’t shaken seeing the one person he least expected to end up like this on the brink of death, that would be a lie.
Instead of answering, Kang Haeun laid Seowoo down and collapsed onto the spot with a thud. As he wiped his sweat, the usual liveliness he carried was nowhere to be seen—it looked like he’d exhausted himself dragging someone bigger than him all the way here.
Sihyeon’s gaze shifted toward Seowoo. Yoo Seowoo, who looked like he might sit up and smile at any moment, showed no movement at all—as if he were some sleeping prince from a fairy tale. He looked just like the dead students Sihyeon had seen inside the Earth Spider’s space.
The only difference was that he was still breathing, albeit faintly. Watching his chest rise and fall repeatedly, Sihyeon heard Haeun finally respond.
“When we went to find him, he was already injured. He was surrounded by a Hazard-level Irregular… it was probably Class C’s doing.”
“Class C?”
“Yeah. We refused something they proposed. After that, they kept picking fights. They got so annoying that Seowoo said he’d try to smooth things over and followed them to where they called him… but when he didn’t come back for a long time, we went to check, and…”
“…He got baited.”
“Yeah.”
Frowning, Sihyeon looked down at Seowoo with a complicated expression. Yoo Seowoo was, by all accounts, sharp and quick-witted. There was no way he would fall for something so obvious.
It felt like something was missing.
“Let’s treat him first, then talk.”
“Okay.”
Given the situation, Sihyeon pushed aside his doubts and asked for a buff. A golden aura wrapped around him. He’d seen Haeun use it on Hamin before, but this was his first time receiving it himself.
Feeling his mana recover rapidly, Sihyeon lowered himself and examined Seowoo’s injuries. The bleeding was severe, and the wounds were extensive. The fact that there were so many injuries meant a massive amount of mana would be required. His brows furrowed. The mana he had just barely recovered was about to be drained all over again.
Still, he couldn’t not heal him.
Letting out a sigh, Sihyeon extended his hand and began pouring mana into Seowoo. Light gathered at his fingertips, and soon the bleeding stopped and the wounds closed. He could even hear bones resetting into place—something must have been broken as well.
How did he even survive this?
Even if someone tried, it would be hard to come back this badly injured.
After using Clean as well, Seowoo’s breathing became steady. Looking at his now spotless state, Sihyeon inwardly marked it as a favor owed before standing up. Haeun let out a breath of relief. Since this was a virtual world anyway, Sihyeon had assumed Kang Haeun wouldn’t care even if his friend died—but apparently, that wasn’t the case.
“Phew, I almost got scolded by Hamin.”
…Or maybe not.
“So what exactly did Class C propose?”
And what about that “we” you mentioned—who were you with?
Asking what he hadn’t been able to earlier due to the urgency, Sihyeon watched as Haeun shrugged. The faint smile on his face carried clear signs of boredom and irritation.
“The bottom eight get eliminated in this evaluation, right? They got scared and decided to try some kind of trick. They said if all 96 of us get the same score, no one would be eliminated. Do they think this school is stupid? How do you even come up with something so childish?”
His voice, usually bright, carried a subtle edge. All 96 getting the same score? Having already witnessed dead students in the Earth Spider’s space, Sihyeon let out a hollow laugh. This time, he agreed with Kang Haeun.
It was complete nonsense dressed up nicely. There was no way they genuinely intended for everyone to survive together—more likely, their real goal was to check Class A, including Yoo Seowoo. Clicking his tongue, Sihyeon concluded they must’ve dragged in Irregulars to overwhelm them with numbers since they couldn’t win on their own.
“So Kang Donghyeok isn’t the only petty one. And what about ‘we’?”
“Haru-hyung and Hamin.”
“You were together?”
“Yeah. Those two are still fighting. Seowoo’s condition was too severe, so Hamin told me to take him somewhere safe first—”
“Where are they?”
“Huh?”
“Where are they?”
Just because it was Lee Hamin and Ban Haru didn’t mean they were safe. Thinking that, Sihyeon pressed him. Haeun frowned, looking almost like he was sulking.
“You’re not seriously going, are you?”
“Of course I am.”
“And how much difference will that make? You don’t even have much mana left.”
Haeun had a point. His mana had already been cut in half, and after healing Seowoo, he had less than 40% remaining. That was the downside of healer skills—they consumed more mana than average.
When Sihyeon couldn’t respond, Haeun patted his shoulder.
“Just stay here. If it’s Haru-hyung and Hamin, they’ll take care of it eventually.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Don’t you trust Haru-hyung?”
“Isn’t that exact mindset what got him into that state?”
Sihyeon’s gaze shifted toward Seowoo. If Haeun and Hamin had gone with him from the start, he wouldn’t have ended up like that.
They must’ve thought he’d handle it on his own.
As that thought crossed his mind, Sihyeon looked at Haeun. Haeun frowned and ruffled his hair. Seeing his hesitation, Sihyeon voiced the rational suspicion he’d been considering.
“When you got there, did you even see Class C?”
“Class C?”
“You said Seowoo was already like that when you arrived. But it doesn’t sound like you saw Class C at all. What if Class C attacked him while he was already fighting the Irregulars and left him like that? Then—would you still think Hamin and Haru-hyung are safe?”
He turned the nagging suspicion into a hypothesis. It was only a possibility, but a plausible one. Looking at Haeun, the sharp-minded boy finally raised a white flag.
“Alright, alright! We’ll go, okay? Let’s go now. Go!”
“…?”
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re coming too?”
“What, weren’t we going together?”
His golden eyes widened. At that expression of protest, Sihyeon—who had been planning to at least convince him to go—nodded. Honestly, he hadn’t expected Haeun to come along.
“There’s a very important reason I have to go with you.”
“What is it?”
“You’re directionally challenged, Sihyeon.”
“……”
“So I have to guide you. Who else would?”
For the second time, Sihyeon found himself speechless. In just one month since enrolling, he’d gotten lost on campus more times than he could count on both hands. As he stayed silent, Haeun shook his head and put his hands on his hips.
“See? You need me, right?”
Arguing would only make things troublesome, so Sihyeon reluctantly agreed. Then Geonwoo, who had been sitting blankly, stood up as well.
And then—
“Ah, you stay here.”
He was promptly made to sit back down.
Geonwoo, who had barely gotten up before being told to sit again, looked at Sihyeon. His expression seemed calm, yet subtly dejected. Avoiding his gaze slightly, Sihyeon gestured toward Seowoo.
“You’ve got less mana than me—what are you going to do there? And if you go too, who’s going to protect him?”
“…Will I be enough?”
“Yeah.”
“…Alright.”
“Good, then let’s go. I’m not thrilled about it, but I’ll think of it like a prince going to rescue a princess!”
So who’s the princess supposed to be?
Just moments ago he didn’t want to go, and now he was full of enthusiasm. Shaking Haeun’s hand off his shoulder, Sihyeon swung his staff toward Geonwoo.
A transparent barrier spread out, enveloping both Geonwoo and Seowoo. Blue eyes stared blankly at Sihyeon.
“You said you’d protect him. That should hold out for a while.”
It was set to a similar strength as the barrier he had used to block Donghyeok’s attack—whatever happened, it would buy them some time.
Ding!
[You have healed an incapacitated individual.]
[Altruism points have been applied.]
[You have obtained 100 points.]
As he finished setting the barrier and prepared to leave, the system window displayed a delayed settlement. He had poured in enough healing to practically revive the dead, yet the reward was pitiful. It seemed Yoo Seowoo’s life was worth only 100 points.
With a wave of his hand, Sihyeon dismissed the window and followed Haeun, who urged him to hurry.
“How much mana do you have left?”
“Hmm, if 1 to 10 is the scale… about a 6?”
“That’s a lot.”
“Unless it’s a wide-area buff, it doesn’t cost much mana. Though if it is a wide-area buff, I’m done for. What about you, Sihyeon?”
“…About a 3.”
Even that was thanks to Haeun’s mana recovery buff. Healers had terrible mana efficiency compared to their skills. At this point, having aptitude for the healer class almost felt like a disadvantage.
Hesitating before giving a precise answer, Sihyeon finally spoke—and Haeun’s jaw dropped in shock.
“You’re going with that amount?”
“Why? I have a plan.”
“Between the two of us, we don’t even reach 10! A support class without mana is useless, Sihyeon! Do you know that? We might be worse than peanuts right now. This is like a hamster going to hunt a lion. You get that, right?”
Though he had agreed to go, the lack of mana seemed to make Haeun anxious. He hesitated, lamenting their pathetic state. Ignoring him, Sihyeon turned his gaze away. Haeun muttered under his breath in disguised complaint.
“This is crazy. This is definitely a suicide attempt. Sihyeon’s dragging me down with him like a drowning ghost….”
His muttering was practically a curse. And just as he even tried to run away, a pale hand quickly grabbed him.
Thunk—Sihyeon seized Haeun’s wrist.
“You said you’d go.”
At the blunt words, Haeun’s brows drooped. Instead of comforting him, Sihyeon simply tugged him along slightly, urging him to lead the way.
