Sihyeon, who had stepped away from the device, looked around for Hamin nearby and frowned. In the end, he hadn’t been able to check Hamin’s score.
If Hamin’s score turned out to be higher than his and he lost first place, then all the grueling work he’d done so far would become completely meaningless.
Still holding a grudge, he stared at him. Feeling the gaze, Hamin turned to look at Sihyeon. Their eyes met, and Hamin frowned. His expression seemed to say, You hate standing out, so why are you going this far? Sihyeon could only let out a sigh.
The Wish Ticket given to first place.
That was why he had gone so far as to do things he normally never would.
There was something he wanted to change with that Wish Ticket.
Unconsciously recalling the past month where he’d been called Rank 0, Sihyeon clenched his fist. Hearing that the results would be announced, he checked his pairing. The holographic window labeled Monthly Evaluation Report reminded him of the Placement Test.
When he pressed confirm on the prompt asking, “Would you like to check your report?”, the record he had set during the monthly evaluation appeared in the hologram.
[March Evaluation: Survival Report]
Class 1-A Kang Sihyeon
Survival Time: 70 hours
Altruism: S ∥ Agility: A ∥ Attack Power: C
Support: S ∥ Survival: S ∥ Cooperation: S
Overall Evaluation: S
It was a report with slightly different evaluation categories from the Placement Test. Thinking that the results matched the effort he’d put in, he looked around and spotted Dawoon in the distance, high-fiving Jihye. He hadn’t seen them during the evaluation, but it looked like the two of them had survived well together.
“Before announcing the final rankings, I’ll inform you of the number of students from each class who survived up to 70 hours, as well as their average evaluation grade.”
They were really going to announce that publicly. He’d felt it before, but this school had a particular talent for embarrassing people.
“First, Class D. A total of five students successfully survived to the end, with an average grade of D. I hope you continue working hard to achieve better results.”
At the teacher’s words, sniffles could be heard from Class D. He’d thought they might get an E, but it was a D. It seemed quite a few students either hadn’t been able to show their abilities during the Placement Test due to nerves or had borne fruit from their efforts over the past month.
While Class D was immersed in emotion, Class C was called next. It was the class he was most curious about. After calling out Yoo Seowoo and suddenly disappearing, Class C had barely shown two or three members even after he set up the treatment center. Considering that at least seven from other classes had come, it was a significantly small number.
He hadn’t had the timing to ask.
Sihyeon, who had missed the chance to ask during the evaluation, turned his head toward Seowoo. Noticing his gaze, Seowoo gave him a smooth smile. It was no different from his usual expression.
“Did something happen to Class C… as a group?”
“…?”
“Class C—only four students succeeded in surviving 70 hours. Their average grade is D.”
The hall stirred. As murmurs spread over the fact that fewer Class C students survived than Class D, several Class C students shot sharp looks at someone. The end of their gazes pointed toward where Seowoo was.
Did you do something?
Despite the piercing stares, Seowoo maintained a relaxed smile. When Sihyeon quietly asked, he shrugged. Then, out of nowhere, he made a T-shape with his fingers and pretended to cry. Sihyeon recoiled in disgust. He didn’t know what it meant, but it seemed like he definitely had done something.
Figuring he’d ask later, Sihyeon set the question aside. The teacher, who had finished announcing Class B, spoke again with a pleased expression. It was now Class A’s turn.
“Class A does not disappoint. All students survived, and every one of them achieved at least an A grade. I hope you continue to lead from the front and show excellent performance.”
The principal’s gentle voice rang out, and the students gasped in admiration. Even applause broke out. Enduring the embarrassment alone, Sihyeon swallowed as the moment he hated most approached. At the same time, it was also the moment he had been waiting for the most today.
“Now, I will announce the top 10 students with outstanding performance.”
Finally, the points he had accumulated would shine.
“Rank 10, Shin Yijae!”
“Shin Yijae?”
It was a name he’d never heard before. He had expected Kang Donghyeok to be called like last time, but the male student called for 10th place was unfamiliar—a brown-haired boy. The boy, who looked like he had a bowl cut, toddled forward. He gave off a strong squirrel-like impression.
Thinking Donghyeok would be 9th, Sihyeon waited, but the 9th place student was a female student who had been called last time. With 10th and 9th announced, eight spots remained up to 8th place.
Class A had eight students.
“……”
While still surprised that Donghyeok had fallen out of the rankings, 8th place was called—Jihye. Though her rank had dropped compared to last time, she smiled brightly, seemingly unconcerned with rankings.
7th was Dawoon, and 6th was Geonwoo. Considering Geonwoo had been at 0 points until the first night, it seemed the Four Heavenly Kings had helped each other while working on rescues.
5th was Yoo Seowoo. If he hadn’t lost consciousness due to his injuries, he probably wouldn’t have stopped at 5th, yet he didn’t seem particularly regretful.
Only three Class A students remained after 4th place was called—Haeun. Including himself, three remained. As Sihyeon inhaled, 3rd place was announced—Haru. Looking shy yet inching forward, Haru drew cheers. Ever since cutting his hair, his recognition had skyrocketed.
Watching Haru, who now seemed somewhat composed even amid the cheers, Sihyeon turned his head to look at Hamin. Well—like some kind of automatic response machine, whenever their eyes met, Hamin mouthed, “What.” That had been Lee Hamin’s way of speaking from the first time they met until now.
When Sihyeon brought up the topic of scores, Hamin made a disgusted face. As Hamin turned his gaze away, Sihyeon sighed and waited for the announcement. Then the principal spoke. For no reason, his nerves tightened.
“Rank 2, Lee Hamin!”
“…!”
Hamin had taken 2nd place with 15,000 points. Sihyeon clenched his fist. If those three hadn’t transferred their points to him at the end, he would have been stuck in 2nd place. Hamin, whose pride seemed wounded by being second, walked forward with a frown. Just like last time, he was 2nd again—his rank unchanged.
Having safely beaten his rival, Sihyeon lowered his gaze at the ticklish title of Rank 1 and stepped forward. He half-listened to the remark that he had skyrocketed from 7th to 1st as the moment he had been waiting for arrived.
“Rank 1 Kang Sihyeon will be awarded one Wish Ticket. Is there something you desire?”
At the long-awaited question, Sihyeon slowly nodded. To obtain this one thing, he had gone through hell, healing others and even winning over the Four Heavenly Kings. Swallowing, he opened his mouth to cut out something he had grown sick of hearing over the past month from his life. If not him, no one else would fix it—so he had no choice but to step forward himself.
“I request the abolition of the ranking hierarchy system.”
“….”
Silence fell instantly. Ignoring Hamin’s gaze that seemed to say, You went through all that just for this?, Sihyeon looked at the teacher with serious eyes. Realizing he was sincere, the principal burst into laughter before speaking.
It was the moment Sihyeon’s wish would be granted.
“Oh dear, unfortunately, that is an impossible wish.”
Correction. It almost was granted.
“Impossible?”
Sihyeon’s eyebrows curved slightly downward. He had hoped it was a lie, but the principal extinguished that hope with a firm, “Yes, it’s impossible.” Sihyeon stared at him blankly. He had gone through all that hardship just for this, and now it wasn’t allowed? The explanation came—it was a long-standing tradition.
What kind of ridiculous tradition is that? Would it really matter if it were broken?
His wish rejected, Sihyeon bit his lip. He had no choice—he needed a compromise.
“Then… could you at least change the name of the system to a ranking system? Instead of ‘Rank 1,’ make it ‘No. 1 in the rankings.’”
“Rankings” were still embarrassing—but less so than the whole “hierarchy” thing. It was less humiliating and at least sounded a bit better. Clinging to his last hope, he waited. After a moment of thought, the principal nodded. A small sigh of relief escaped Sihyeon. With this, he felt like he had distanced himself—at least by 0.1%—from the cringeworthy web novel testing his tolerance.
No—since it’s still a hierarchy, it’s basically the same thing.
“You’re seriously using a Wish Ticket on something like that?”
“It’s a feeling you’ll never understand, so stay out of it.”
What would someone who’d grown up inside a web novel even know?
Responding calmly to Hamin’s jab, Sihyeon swallowed his thoughts. Hamin let out a dry laugh, muttering something about being hurt despite clearly not meaning it. With the Wish Ticket used, the principal picked up the microphone again.
“Lastly, I will announce the eight students who will be expelled.”
The atmosphere sank at the weight in his voice, so different from when he had smiled and refused Sihyeon’s request. Though unfortunate, Sihyeon thought it was the right measure for a military training school.
Watching silently as names were called one by one, Sihyeon’s eyes widened at the final name.
“The last student is Kang Donghyeok of Class B.”
“What?”
“Class B?”
“Wasn’t he Rank 10 last time? The one with the knife—”
“Knife.”
It was one of the nicknames Donghyeok had gotten after the cafeteria incident. Sihyeon had wondered why he hadn’t appeared in the rankings, but he hadn’t expected him to fall all the way to expulsion. As he stared in shock, Donghyeok, walking forward, met his gaze and clenched his teeth. The hostility in his eyes remained. Sihyeon’s lips parted.
Even if Kang Donghyeok had been foolish, he wasn’t incompetent enough to be expelled. Before Sihyeon could voice the question of why, Donghyeok frowned and turned his gaze away. Somehow, his face also looked drained of color.
Before Sihyeon could ask him anything, the students scheduled for expulsion were led out of the auditorium under the teachers’ guidance. Cruelly enough, it seemed they would proceed with transfer arrangements immediately.
“……”
As silence settled over the heavy atmosphere, the principal declared the end of the monthly evaluation. The mood was damp and weighed down like the rainy season. Sihyeon’s gaze turned toward the exit Donghyeok had gone through.
Come to think of it, half of the expelled students had been from Class C.
Lost in questions, Sihyeon felt someone tap his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?”
At the gentle tone, he turned his head. Even though eight students had just been expelled, Seowoo looked completely composed. With a rising thought, Sihyeon spoke. He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but one thing was certain—many things were connected to Yoo Seowoo.
“What happened with Class C?”
“Me?”
“Who else would it be if not you?”
“Didn’t Haeun already tell you about Class C?”
“I want to hear it clearly.”
His unwavering gaze fixed on Seowoo. Meeting it without hesitation, Seowoo shrugged casually.
“The kids got a little worked up, so I went to calm them down and ended up getting attacked by Irregulars.”
“And what was Class C doing when you were getting attacked?”
“Who knows. Maybe they ran away. Things were pretty chaotic at the time.”
“……”
‘Is that true?’
The question lingered in his mouth as Seowoo answered without even a moment’s hesitation. The fragmented clues all pointing to Yoo Seowoo weren’t things that could disappear with a single offhand remark.
And yet, Sihyeon couldn’t voice his doubts.
“…If that’s what you say, then I guess it is.”
“Since when did you trust me that much?”
“You’d know the most about that incident. If not, then forget it.”
“I was joking. Still, it’s a shame your wish didn’t come true. You worked hard for it. Come to think of it, Sihyeon—you really hate the word ‘hierarchy,’ don’t you?”
At the calm observation, Sihyeon frowned.
“It’s cringey.”
“Hmm.”
Seowoo hummed softly, staring at Sihyeon before his eyes curved into a smile. His platinum-colored eyes folded beautifully. They curved too perfectly—enough to send a subtle chill down the spine.
“The others are waiting. Shall we go?”
Speaking casually, he extended his hand toward Sihyeon. Instead of taking it, Sihyeon walked past him, then suddenly glanced back at the exit Donghyeok had left through.
Class C, whose whereabouts had been unclear since encountering Yoo Seowoo. Kang Donghyeok, who had ended up expelled.
There were too many questions.
The unresolved doubts lingered in his mouth. Perhaps the reason he didn’t press Seowoo further was because he instinctively knew that not everything from Yoo Seowoo’s mouth would be the truth.
Or maybe… he already—
Sihyeon shook his head.
It was just speculation.
