Even after obtaining the air class—a class that practically guaranteed a secure future—Dawoon stepped down wearing a calm, almost dissatisfied expression. Next was Yoo Seowoo. Still carrying that same gentle smile he’d directed at Sihyeon, Seowoo stood before the tester and placed his hand on it. Just like before, the device stayed quiet for a moment before glowing blue. It was a color Sihyeon had already seen.
“Swordsman!”
“Waaaah!”
Amid the erupting cheers, voices could be heard saying, “Well, it’s Seowoo-nim, so he must be talented too, right?” Annoying as it was, he was one of the Four Heavenly Kings. Unable to deny it, Sihyeon nodded slightly—when suddenly, Seowoo, who had been stepping down from the stage, turned his head toward him.
“……”
The moment it felt like their eyes met, Seowoo’s eyes curved into a smile. Considering the distance between them, it was almost frighteningly sharp vision.
“…No way.”
That can’t be.
It’s not like he’s some kind of Mongolian eagle. There’s no way he could’ve accurately locked eyes with me from that far. Forcing himself to dismiss the thought, Sihyeon shifted his attention as Lee Hamin stepped up to the tester. With one hand in his pocket, his expression carried a distinct arrogance.
“Kyaaaak!”
Even before the result came out, screams erupted from all directions. Lee Hamin—he truly felt like the real male lead of this novel.
And a complete asshole, too.
[Lee Hamin]
One of the Four Heavenly Kings, possessing the arrogance typical of a chaebol second-generation heir. He has a rough way of speaking and struggles with interpersonal relationships, but treats his woman well. His parents are the chairman of S Corporation, and he harbors an inferiority complex due to his more capable older brother. As he anxiously chases after his brother, the female lead notices his wounds and comforts him, leading him to fall deeply in love with her.
A textbook character setup. Recalling the description, Sihyeon gave a dry, detached evaluation, though his gaze lingered slightly on Hamin’s hair. It wasn’t red or blue—just black. Completely ordinary black.
A male lead in a web novel with black hair? If his eyes hadn’t been purple, it might’ve been considered an insult to the genre. After all, male leads in these kinds of stories are supposed to be flamboyantly colorful.
As he idly passed the time with such trivial thoughts, the tester finished its process and emitted a white light. White—something he’d never seen before. Just as curiosity arose, the once-heated atmosphere suddenly fell silent, like cold water had been poured over it.
What’s going on?
Tilting his head, wondering if something that shouldn’t appear had appeared, Sihyeon fixed his gaze on the stage. The teacher’s lips moved, but no words came out. Then Hamin, curling one corner of his lips upward, spoke casually.
“You’re not going to say it?”
“Ah…”
Only after Hamin’s remark did the teacher seem to snap back to his senses. Picking up his pen and scribbling something down, he cleared his throat and shouted loudly toward the students.
“Du—Dual Class!”
“Waaaah—!”
“Kyaaah, Hamin-nim!”
“Oppa, you’re amazing!”
“……”
What a mess. Watching students—who were all the same age—call him “oppa” and make a fuss, Sihyeon looked thoroughly fed up as he watched Hamin step down with a satisfied smile.
Dual Class. He had just witnessed a class so rare there were only five in the world becoming six—and yet, he felt nothing. Well, he is a male lead, he thought, resting his head against the wall. It wasn’t surprising at all.
Next, a boy with blue hair stepped forward.
With an expressionless face, he looked down at the tester with complete indifference. That had to be Baek Geonwoo—the “cold one” among the Four Heavenly Kings.
[Baek Geonwoo]
One of the Four Heavenly Kings. Based on looks alone, he could easily be considered the top among them—a cold, strikingly handsome man. He has been frequently scouted on the streets since childhood due to his looks, which made his life tiring. Childhood friends with Kang Haeun. Despite spending time with the Four Heavenly Kings, he becomes curious about the female lead, who doesn’t approach him first, and that curiosity gradually turns into affection, eventually deepening into love.
Unremarkable. His face might scream individuality, but the description itself was painfully cliché. Shaking his head, Sihyeon kept his gaze on Geonwoo—who remained completely expressionless even as his result was announced.
“Tanker!”
A short note of admiration escaped him. Even from afar, Geonwoo naturally drew attention—he really was that handsome.
Sihyeon had higher standards than most, but he was secretly quite the sucker for good looks. If he already looked this striking from a distance, seeing him up close might actually leave him dazed. After studying him for a moment, Sihyeon reached a conclusion.
Let’s not get close.
Yoo Seowoo was manageable, but Baek Geonwoo was dangerous. Better to admire from afar. Slowly pulling his gaze away from Geonwoo as he stepped down, Sihyeon turned to the silver-haired boy who was grinning brightly. His carefree expression made him look both mischievous and childlike. Kang Haeun.
If Yoo Seowoo’s smile was gentle but slightly unsettling, Kang Haeun’s was pure and radiant—like sunlight. Almost as if an angel had descended just to smile.
[Kang Haeun]
One of the Four Heavenly Kings, charming for his innocent and pure personality. Among the others, who are tall and imposing, his smaller and cuter stature stands out as his appeal. With his naturally easygoing personality and sociability, he becomes the female lead’s true soulmate.
About 173 cm, maybe? Remembering the description calling him small and cute, Sihyeon estimated Haeun’s height and let out a hollow laugh. He himself was 172 cm—so if Haeun was “small and cute,” then Kang Sihyeon should be practically invisible.
Seriously… thinking about it again—
Kang Sihyeon barely had any presence at all.
All he had going for him was being on the track team, being the female lead’s childhood friend, and having a somewhat pretty face. Nowhere near enough to compete with the Four Heavenly Kings and become her boyfriend. Feeling a bit sorry for him, Sihyeon gave his own shoulder a light pat before snapping out of his thoughts and focusing on the stage.
Flash—the tester emitted a golden light, identical to Haeun’s eye color.
Just like when Hamin’s class was revealed, the unfamiliar color made everyone hold their breath. In the silence, the teacher—eyes even brimming with tears—announced the result in a trembling voice.
“Buffer!”
“Waaaah!”
“Kang Haeun, I love you!”
The moment the class was announced, the auditorium erupted. Among the cheering students were even male students confessing their love to Haeun. Watching this, Sihyeon recalled the blog post.
Buffers and healers were rare—and judging by this reaction, extremely rare. It wasn’t even a Dual Class, yet it was enough to move people this much.
After Haeun stepped down with a bright smile, the stage was empty again. Everyone from that group had finished, so it was time for the next five.
For some reason, tension gripped him. Clutching his bag strap tightly, Sihyeon stared at the teacher’s lips as names were called. Whether fortunate or unfortunate, his name wasn’t among them. Letting out a relieved breath as another round passed, he watched the thirtieth student walk down dejectedly after receiving an Enhancement class—and grew tense again.
But the next round… and the one after that… his name still wasn’t called.
There weren’t even a hundred students in the auditorium, yet even after the 80th, his name hadn’t come up. Anxiety began to creep in as he stared intently at the teacher.
The 90th finished. Then 91. Then 95.
At this point, he half-hoped his name had somehow been left off the list—
“Lastly…”
—when the teacher’s words shattered that fragile hope.
“Kang Sihyeon!”
Only at number 96 was his name finally called. Instantly, the attention of all 95 students turned toward him. Sihyeon frowned slightly.
His steps toward the stage felt heavy. He had been waiting for his name, yet he felt no joy at all. Being last only amplified the pressure.
Step by step, dozens of gazes clung to him. Since he was the last, no one was distracted by their own nerves anymore—everyone’s attention was fully on him.
And among them, there was one gaze filled with unmistakable killing intent. Judging by the hostility, it had to be Jung Dawoon.
If I turn around, I’m dead.
Convinced that making eye contact with her would be fatal, Sihyeon kept his eyes forward, pressing his lips tightly together under the weight of over a hundred stares.
I think I’m going to throw up.
Never in his life had he been the center of so much attention. Forcing down the nausea, he climbed the steps and stepped onto the stage.
Scratching lightly at his neck, he approached the tester as the principal guided him forward with a kind smile.
The black tester he had only seen from afar was now right in front of him. Whirrr—the machine hummed as it activated. Taking a deep breath, Sihyeon slowly extended his hand and placed it on the device.
Please be Enhancement, please be Control, please be Flight.
Swordsman would be fine. Archer would be fine. Anything—as long as it was ordinary and didn’t make him stand out.
As he silently prayed, the tester whirred a few times before coming to a stop.
This is it.
At this point, it usually flashed with light. Closing his eyes, hoping for green or yellow—
“……”
Nothing happened.
Opening his eyes, Sihyeon stared at the still-black tester, then turned to the teacher.
“Sir?”
“That… shouldn’t be possible…”
At his call, the teacher seemed to realize something was wrong. Picking up the tester from under Sihyeon’s hand, he fiddled with a switch underneath, as if restarting it. Then, smiling kindly, he placed it back in front of him.
“It should work now.”
“Yes.”
Nodding, thinking it had just been a glitch, Sihyeon placed his hand on it again.
Whirrr, whirrr.
Just like before, the tester spun a few times… then stopped.
No light.
The same result.
Looking up, he saw the teacher frowning deeply. Even after being told to try again, the result didn’t change. By the third attempt, the teacher’s expression hardened completely.
“What’s going on?”
The principal, having grown suspicious at the delay, approached and asked. Stroking his chin in thought, the teacher pulled out another tester from a box beside the stage.
After activating the new device and placing it on the table, he gestured toward it with a serious expression.
“Try again.”
His cautious tone made Sihyeon cautious as well. He placed his hand on the tester.
Whirrr, whirrr.
Again, it spun a few times—
—and stopped.
No light.
The teacher’s face stiffened once more. Realizing something was clearly wrong, Sihyeon bit the inside of his cheek as a sense of dread crept over him.
“What’s wrong? Is there a problem?”
Unable to watch any longer, the principal stepped closer and asked. Still staring at the tester with an intense gaze, the teacher spoke as if entranced.
“It’s not showing…”
“What?”
“Kang Sihyeon’s class result—it’s not appearing!”
“……”
At that single shout, the entire hall fell silent.
In the deathly stillness, with everyone’s eyes fixed on him, Sihyeon parted his lips in confusion. His blue eyes, filled with bewilderment, met the teacher’s.
It felt completely unfair.
He had wished for something ordinary—not nothing at all.
