episode_0306

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When asked in street interviews, “What virtues should a hero possess?”, civilians typically give three types of answers.

One. They must be stronger than villains.

Two. Even if they don’t genuinely believe it, they should at least outwardly prioritize citizens first.

Three. Instead of chasing after fleeing villains, they should focus on rescuing lives first.

One might question whether these really fit the term “virtues”, but let’s set that aside for now.

To summarize, it boils down to: “If you want to be called a hero, save me first.”

After all, nobody wants to become part of Korea’s annual villain-related casualty statistics—roughly 15,000 cases per year.

And this atmosphere was no different, even in a hero academy.

No law forcibly drags people here to become heroes.

Everyone came of their own will. Some might have even enrolled blinded by money and fame, but regardless, they all chose to be here.

“Professor Seo Woo-jin? Are you in there?”

“Ah, yes.”

“It’s about today’s schedule…”

“Right, right. Just a moment.”

Early summer—when the scent of spring had nearly faded, and humid breezes began brushing against the nape of one’s neck.

Shielding my eyes from the harsh sunlight pouring through the window, I walked down the hallway alongside instructors assigned as evaluators.

It was the day the midterm evaluations began.

306

“…So, Sua-chan. From here all the way there is the rescue assessment.”

“Got it.”

“For combat-related evaluations, looks like it’s just one peer assessment and the instructors’ absolute evaluation?”

“Probably? I’m not sure either since it’s my first time…”

“Ugh… Why’s it structured like this…?”

“Why… what?”

“Honestly, shouldn’t it just be about fighting well…? Why bother testing emergency response like this…?”

“……”

Yozora Touka (夜空 透夏).

And beside her, Han Sua.

Staring blankly at their backs, Lee Ji-yoon pressed her earbuds deeper into her ears and sighed.

Those two—no, more accurately, that one Japanese girl—kept whispering in front of her, making it impossible to focus on studying.

She had hoped to cram at least a little before the exam, but it seemed those two had no intention of studying.

Ah, right. Han Sua’s a chaebol heiress. Even if she flunks this test, it won’t matter.

And that one came all the way to Korea for school—must be loaded.

Unlike someone who had to work at a café during breaks to avoid going home.

Thanks to them, she found herself contemplating communism again. Only after cranking up the volume could she finally block out their voices.

But once broken, focus doesn’t return so easily.

Flipping through pages without retaining anything, Ji-yoon eventually tsked and slumped onto her desk like always.

Won’t get a perfect score, but I’ll make up for it in practicals.

She turned the volume back down.

“If there were more healers like the health teacher, we wouldn’t have to learn this stuff. Right?”

“I… guess? Maybe?”

“So annoying…”

“……”

Had those words not reached Ji-yoon’s ears…

Had she not felt an inexplicable smugness from just that…

She probably would’ve just dozed off.

“Is he busy because of today’s evaluations?”

“Even if he’s not busy, he’s probably waiting nearby.”

“Ah… I just want to see his face…”

“……”

With an unspoken sense of superiority…

…How pathetic.

Fidgeting.

Ears twitching.

Ears burning red.

She stayed face-down on her desk until the exam began.

While turning to talk to Sua, Yozora kept glancing at Ji-yoon—

who remained completely oblivious.

“You know… like in movies? You can do this. You can do this. Repeating it to yourself.”

“…Uh, wasn’t that from the Olympics? Fencing?”

“Whatever! The point is, mindset matters most!”

In front of Lee Ha-yoon, who looked thoroughly unconvinced, Seol Da-bin patted her own ample chest and flashed a toothy grin.

Compared to the subdued atmosphere of the first-year classrooms, the second-years were noticeably livelier.

Not because this grade was considered Miren Academy’s worst generation or anything.

Talented students usually stood out as first-years, receiving offers from active-duty heroes early on. Once the hierarchy was set, it rarely changed.

The written exams? Beyond basic knowledge, they were practically personality tests.

And this hierarchy wasn’t about effort—it was about talent.

Could you reach the scene as fast as possible?

If there were hostages—dozens, even—could you save them?

If a building was engulfed in flames, did you have the means to handle it?

Or could you simply subdue those societal misfits with brute force?

After being evaluated multiple times as a first-year, your place in the hierarchy hardly ever shifted.

Unless,

of course,

you had a late awakening.

“Last year, the smell of pain patches was everywhere… Guess you’ve finally learned control?”

“Mmm… Maybe…?”

“Then you’ll be busy this break, huh? Strong evolution-types are always in demand.”

“Pfft… As if I’d…”

“Why? Wasn’t that why you kept getting hurt? Couldn’t control your strength.”

“Still…”

But what interested Seol Da-bin wasn’t her friend’s growth—it was something else.

Perched on the desk, she playfully poked Ha-yoon’s forehead with her fist.

Then, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her hand—

“So how’d you actually figure it out?”

—she dropped the bait with a faint smile.

“…Just… happened over time.”

“Happened over time…”

How naive would you have to be to buy that?

Rather than a vague “happened over time”, wouldn’t it make more sense if that healer-type Transcendent had helped her practice without fear of injury?

Recalling that “counseling” excuse from before, Da-bin barely stopped herself from pinching Ha-yoon’s cheek.

This must be how fathers with daughters feel.

Plenty of good men out there, but of course my daughter picks Seo Woo-jin—who’s always surrounded by women.

I’d rather he was just trash, but no, he fits her too well. Sticking my nose in feels awful.

Watching from afar, it was obvious how much Ha-yoon liked him.

So Da-bin knew—this concern of hers was meddling.

Instead of butting into someone else’s love life unasked, she’d be better off managing her own boyfriend.

A whole ten years.

After so long, the childhood flutters were gone—they were practically family. Maybe it was time to change that.

Do more couple-like things, or whatever.

“……”

But that guy… I really don’t like him…

I want to meddle—tell Ha-yoon not to like someone like that…

Last time, it was clear she really likes Seo Woo-jin, and he’s even directly helping her now…

—Rustle.

“Everyone, return to your seats. If you’ve finished marking, don’t mess around—just rest your eyes.”

Keep watching him until she could find a flaw.

…Or maybe I should just corner him and drill some sense into him. Might ease my mind.

Swallowing a sigh, Da-bin forced a smile and hopped off Ha-yoon’s desk.

After fulfilling her repayment to Seo Woo-jin,

she had this thought on the way home:

Last night, Woo-jin shook off Yu Si-woo—but now that I think about it, was that really the end?

So that minor clash downtown might not have affected Si-woo at all…

It wasn’t a baseless assumption.

As much as she hated to admit it, few knew Yu Si-woo’s personality as well as she did.

And as expected, Yu Si-woo—

“Haa… The air here is still the most comfortable.”

“Stop sniffing. It’s gross.”

“What’s the big deal? I’m not sniffing you.”

—swung open the student council room door, same as always.

“Senpai. Where are the others? Written exams ended a while ago.”

“Probably practicing somewhere. Practicals are coming up.”

“I see… Practicing…”

“……”

“Then it’s just you and me today, huh? Cozy.”

“…Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious.”

“…Haa…”

…Still, I didn’t think he’d be this unchanged.

Annoyed, her tone was sharper than usual, but Si-woo just giggled and stared at her.

Even when she turned away with an exasperated sigh, nothing changed.

Unfazed, he kept talking between chuckles.

“Anyway. Did you get home okay last night? Heard you were helping the health teacher pick a gift for his girlfriend.”

“If something had gone wrong, I wouldn’t be here.”

“True… Wait, what if you’re a fake? Can I touch you?”

“Don’t joke around. I genuinely hate that.”

“Tch… So mean…”

“I wouldn’t waste even a speck of kindness on you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

As he approached, her voice dripped with irritation. Like a cop facing a drawn gun, Si-woo raised his hands and headed to his usual sofa.

Ignoring him, she returned to reviewing documents—until the sound of a game console made her frown and look up.

And that’s when she saw it.

…The sofa.

That giant sofa Si-woo treated like a bed.

The one Seo Woo-jin mentioned last night.

The only bedding in the student council room.

“……”

Lost in pointless thoughts, she hurriedly looked back at the documents before Si-woo could notice.

“…Ah.”

…Only later did she realize—

the once-pristine documents were now covered in rough, deliberate pen marks at the bottom right.