Ch.96Let’s Work Hard, Examiner – 2

“Growth? You mean the monsters?”

The Association President makes a face like what I’m saying is absurd.

The professors also clearly look like they’re thinking, “What nonsense is this?”

I understand. There have never been cases of monsters growing before.

It’s unprecedented. The possibility itself has never even been suggested.

Much time has passed since monsters, gates, and dungeons first appeared.

Even throughout that time, there was never any monster growth, so their reaction is natural.

‘The problem is, what has never happened before is about to begin now.’

I’m facing one of the most difficult tasks in the world.

Having to explain something that has never occurred before.

This isn’t even a hypothesis. It should be considered a “future vision.”

Something that will definitely happen. Something they don’t know, but I do.

That’s why I feel the pressure to convince them at all costs.

“This might sound strange. Even as I’m saying it, I’m wondering if I’m right.”

I start not by forcefully pushing my opinion, but by showing understanding.

Suppressing any resistance while creating a calm atmosphere for rational judgment.

“But when you think about it, the possibility certainly exists. Take humanity as an example. When abilities were first discovered and monsters and gates appeared, were ability users back then at the same level as they are now?”

No, that’s impossible. People were just struggling to figure out what abilities even were.

They knew nothing about the monsters they faced, so they had no choice but to “headbutt” their way through.

That was before systematic ability training, or even ability measurement.

Naturally, comparing a B-rank from then to a B-rank now would show a significant gap.

Even with the same rank, current B-ranks are superior to past B-ranks.

As time passed, research progressed, and experience accumulated.

Then those lessons were passed down to successors as teachings and know-how.

All of humanity grew—both ability users and non-ability users alike.

“I don’t mean to belittle past heroes. I’m just saying that, just as humanity has grown, there’s a chance that they too are gradually growing. We can’t miss that possibility.”

I pause here and subtly gauge the atmosphere.

I expected opposition or dismissal of my idea.

From what I remember, when this hypothesis was first proposed, the reaction was similar.

Only after cases explosively increased did they hurriedly acknowledge it.

‘That was probably around the end of the Academy’s summer break.’

The monsters’ growth, their great transformation, is already happening.

It’s just not noticeable yet. That’s why they missed the timing in the novel.

While it was meant to showcase Hyunwoo Lee’s growth and create an overall sense of crisis in the story,

in this real world, it’s nothing short of a terrible disaster approaching.

From now on, we need to remain vigilant, ability users need to hone themselves more,

and rank reassessments must be done to prevent needless casualties.

[…Arbiter Seojin Baek.]

The Association President, who had been silent for a while, finally speaks.

Is he going to say it’s nonsense? Will he call it an overinterpretation?

If so, what should I say next to convince him?

[Do you have any countermeasures in mind for the current situation?]

…Wait. Mr. President? What did you just say?

“Uh, yes?”

[If monsters have truly reached a stage of growth similar to humanity’s, albeit much delayed, I’m asking what countermeasures you propose.]

What? Contrary to my expectations, he’s accepting this too easily.

When researchers first presented this opinion, they were supposedly ridiculed.

The meeting room is also unusually quiet, so I glance around.

Hakjun Ma, who’s always been favorable toward me, is one thing,

but even professors who have no connection with me are looking very serious.

As if they’re eager to hear my next opinion.

“Go ahead, Arbiter Baek. I think your opinion is worth listening to.”

“…Actually, what comes next isn’t particularly special.”

The Association President stares at me as if to ask what I mean.

Nothing special? He seems confused about what I’m trying to say.

“Literally, there’s no special alternative. The solution I’m suggesting is that we need to return to our roots. We need the mindset and training intensity that early ability users had. Not necessarily returning completely to that time, but something similar.”

I feel a bit embarrassed after saying it.

In such a serious atmosphere, my conclusion is basically “work harder!”

“…Um, Arbiter. Are you saying that working hard is the only answer?”

One of the professors can’t hide his bewilderment.

The other professors and the Association President on screen have similar reactions.

Even Hakjun Ma looks somewhat perplexed.

But this is truly the best opinion I can offer.

It’s unfortunate that I couldn’t meet their expectations, but it can’t be helped.

“That’s right.”

“But… anyone could give such an answer…”

“It’s an answer anyone could give. Yes, I know. But for the situation we’re anticipating, anyone would ultimately suggest the same solution I just did.”

This isn’t a temporary monster rampage caused by villains.

Nor is it just luck, or a random mutation among monsters.

Monsters are growing, their level is gradually rising.

So what action should ability users take?

‘Become stronger. Acquire superior skills. And thereby survive.’

“…Arbiter Baek’s words aren’t completely unfounded.”

Hakjun Ma seems to share my thoughts as he cautiously speaks up.

“Compared to before, the desperation has certainly diminished. While past ability users fought to survive, now it’s become a sort of promising career.”

[Senior… I mean, Dean. Such words…]

“I don’t mean to disparage the juniors, President. I’m just saying there’s a difference in mindset. And that difference will definitely have an impact.”

Several professors nodded in agreement.

They’ve seen it too. What today’s ability users dream of.

Far more of them envision personal wealth and glory than saving the world.

Of course, I don’t blame these juniors. After all, they were once the same.

That’s why they’re cautious even while agreeing with my opinion.

[…For now, the Dungeon and Monster Research Team is continuing their research. We’ll gather their opinions as well and consider how and in what way to change our current approach. Arbiter Baek, I won’t take your opinion lightly and will give it proper consideration. Thank you for your valuable input.]

He neither blindly opposes nor immediately accepts.

As befitting a government official, the Association President maintains a neutral stance.

Still, this can be considered a relatively positive outcome.

Contrary to my concerns, they took my opinion quite seriously.

After some more discussion, the Association President ended the meeting, saying we’d talk later.

‘Phew.’

A sigh of relief escapes me. Honestly, I was quite worried.

How should I convince them? How should I change their minds?

I had such concerns, but fortunately, I was able to explain without much difficulty.

“You’re amazing, Arbiter Baek!”

A female professor sitting next to me suddenly speaks up.

“Excuse me? Professor, what did you just…?”

“You’re truly extraordinary. So you had a grand plan all along?”

…What is this woman suddenly talking about?

Why is she bringing up some “grand plan”?

“You know that students have changed a lot recently, all since you arrived as an arbiter, right?”

“That’s because I’ve been strict with my evaluations.”

“But their levels have definitely improved. In the past, we would have worried about how to raise Bronze rank students to Silver. Now we don’t worry about that at all.”

I’m glad you don’t have to worry anymore.

Meanwhile, I was heavily criticized for being some strange arbiter.

“Anyway! If monsters’ overall level has truly risen, then naturally ability users need to improve their skills too. And you, Arbiter, were already doing exactly that.”

She’s clearly complimenting me, but I can’t help feeling a twinge in my chest.

Her manner of speaking makes it seem like she’s asking, “Do you perhaps know something?”

“I agree. Looking at today’s students, they have better skills than us, but lack desperation.”

A middle-aged professor, one of the few at the Academy, picks up the conversation.

He continues that they tend to be too satisfied with their current rank.

Most of them try to settle in a comfort zone rather than pushing forward.

He expresses his disappointment with current ability users.

Of course, not all reactions were positive.

“I’m a bit cautious. I’m worried we’ll just sound like old fogies.”

“Honestly, can anyone be an ability user purely out of duty these days? It has to pay well. Duty doesn’t put food on the table. And it’s not like ability users are as rare as they were in the beginning.”

Afterward, the professors, without anyone prompting them, engaged in a passionate debate.

They have good skills but lack desperation, they limit themselves to their rank.

They set their own limitations, preventing themselves from advancing.

If the hypothesis is correct, even monsters are advancing, so stagnation means death…

Desperation will naturally come when crisis hits.

Ranks aren’t bad. They actually provide clear goals.

Their skills are better than ours. They won’t make the mistake of stagnating…

‘Hmm.’

The small ball I threw has become a topic of heated debate among the professors.

After watching the scene briefly, I quietly stood up from my seat.

It’s an unwritten rule that the original instigator should slip away.