Meiling took her place on the mark painted on the ground, a Level-5, Normal-grade wand in hand.

“There’ll be five shots. Hitting even one is a pass.”

“I get it. Just start already,” she said, as curt as ever.

A few students looked startled—or offended.

“Alright, let’s begin.”

Abel just smiled at her and tapped his tablet.

A low whir rose from the launcher—

FWANG!!

Something tore through the air toward the mountain, so fast its shape couldn’t even be made out.

Meiling didn’t move. She simply watched.

“What is she doing?”

“Why isn’t she firing?”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

The launcher whirred again; a second target streaked skyward.

This time Meiling fired a Mana Bolt.

But the target was already arcing toward the mountain, and the shot from her wand chased after it far too late.

“Pfft. Look at that—so confident, and she couldn’t even graze it,” Zen said loudly, making sure everyone heard.

Rune, beside him, only watched Meiling with folded arms.

“….”

Normally, Meiling would’ve had her wand shoved in Zen’s face already. Instead, she kept her eyes on the launcher.

Blue mana gathered at her wand’s tip.

The instant the whine rose again, Meiling swept her wand.

BOOM!

Eyes widened.

Her Mana Bolt met the target at the exact point of its path, and shards of plastic peppered the clearing.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t that she “hit” the target. Mana Bolt was fast, but compared to that near-invisible projectile, it might as well have been a child’s tossed ball.

What Meiling had done was fire along the target’s known trajectory, timing her shot so their paths overlapped.

In other words, she cast before the launcher fired, letting the “target” run into her spell.

First shot: confirm the arc. Second shot: practice tracing the path with the bolt.

The next two targets shattered the same way, colliding midair with her spells.

Meiling turned, glanced toward Rune and Zen, and gave a sharp little snort, a smirk tugging at one corner of her mouth.

“Urk…” Zen ground his teeth.

“…Tch.” Rune clicked her tongue.

“Well done, Meiling.”

Abel approached with an easy smile.

“Alright—what can we learn from what she just showed us?”

A hand rose from Crystal’s side. Toby.

“That even simple spells can take down a monster, depending on how you use them?”

“Exactly.”

Abel nodded.

“There’s a high-level spell similar to Mana Bolt: ‘Orb of Ruin.’ It’s slow, with no homing function, and if you don’t land it cleanly the mana disperses and it fizzles out. But hit it right, and there aren’t many spells stronger. You won’t always be using Mana Bolt like today—monsters won’t kindly fly the same route every time. The point is: even magic can be used many ways, depending on how you apply it.”

He looked back at Meiling.

“And since she demonstrated it beautifully, ten points to Meiling.”

Our watches chimed.

“Next…”

He tapped the tablet again. Panels opened across the clearing and small robots popped up—some rabbit-like, some bird-like—each with a shield shimmering around it. On their backs were colored dots—six colors in total.

“Each academy will now practice by hitting those bots with Mana Bolts. They’re not as fast as that projectile, but they’re quick—do your best.”

Abel’s eyes swept the group.

“Each academy targets only the bots with your assigned color. This trains accuracy and quick recognition. Hit a different color and you lose points. Begin.”

The field erupted into motion—twenty-four trainees sprinting after darting bots, Level-5 wands raised.

The first academy to strip a bot’s shield was, again, ours—Gwangcheon.

Of course it was.

With everyone using identical gear, only three things made a difference:

Aptitude.

Level.

Experience.

By aptitude, I was barely there, and Lumina lagged well behind the others. Meiling at least had C/S/S for Body/Spirit/Mind, and Seo Yui was S/B/A—on par with or above the other HAUT candidates.

So on average aptitudes, we were behind. But not in the other two.

All of us were Level 55.

Roughly twenty levels over the cohort average—our biggest edge.

Then experience.

We’d fought far more monsters to reach 55 than HAUT’s drills could simulate. Meiling figured out the timing trick for Mana Bolt without me even telling her. And thanks to the ten days of pre-training I’d planned for dungeon survival, the three of them had already “rehearsed” most HAUT assignments.

That’s why we’d wiped the robots in the melee drill earlier, too.

Whatever comes next, we’re prepared.

…Unless HAUT throws something I’ve never seen before.

“First place: Gwangcheon, ten points. Second: Magicka, five. Third: Crystal, three.”

Chimes sounded across wrists.

For the record, Dai took fourth, Ucheon fifth, and, as expected, Martial God came last.

Martial God’s four gripped their wands like short swords, firing awkwardly. Not a single Mana Bolt hit their assigned targets. If Abel had told them to club the bots with the wands, they’d have cleared it in a heartbeat.

“That’s it for today’s magic combat training. Good work. Squad leaders, collect gear. Rest at the dorms, then reconvene at noon at the entrance. Dismissed.”

After we returned the equipment, students dispersed quickly.

We headed for the dorm as well.

“Haah… finally,” Lumina breathed.

“Tired?” I asked.

She gave a wry smile. “Not that the training itself was hard… I think I was just too tense.”

“Why get tense?” Meiling said, incredulous. “It was obviously ours to win even on half effort.”

“No half measures,” I said, looking down at her. “Even with our level advantage, nothing guarantees a win in every subject. Don’t get cocky.”

Meiling’s brow shot up—and then I added, “But stepping up first and nailing the demo—that was great. Keep it up.”

“….”

She stared at me, blank for a beat, then snorted and turned away.

“What, am I supposed to thank you for scolding and praising me in one breath? I’d have done fine without the pep talk!”

Her ears were bright red.

Confidence was good. Complacency wasn’t. If she kept that fire burning, winning the top prizes would only get easier.

“So what do you think they’ll make us do today?”

At that, we all turned to Seo Yui.

“The meal-ticket race,” she said.

“Ah.”

“Oh.”

Lumina and Meiling both gaped.

“Right. Meal tickets… I completely forgot,” Lumina murmured, tension creeping back into her voice.

“I don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

I wanted to tell the three of them, but I held my tongue.

They would find out soon enough.

A few dozen minutes later.

Abel led the HAUT candidates gathered at the entrance toward the cafeteria.

“Alright.”

When he stopped in front of the cafeteria and looked back at us, the students’ faces tensed.

He glanced down at his tablet as if checking something, then spoke again.

“Gwangcheon Team.”

At the sudden call, Lumina, Meiling, and Seo Yui’s eyes went wide.

“Yes.”

I answered with a quiet smile.

“You can go straight inside and have your lunch. Enjoy your meal.”

At Abel’s words, the three of them looked even more stunned than before.

The other academy students were just as surprised.

“What?!”

“Why?”

“Why is Gwangcheon the only team exempt from the meal ticket race?”

Maria from Ucheon, Jin Yuyeon from Martial God, and Jang Taeil from Dai all turned to question Abel.

“Because Gwangcheon has already earned more than thirty merit points.”

At that, Maria and Jin Yuyeon made small sounds of realization, while Jang Taeil pressed his lips together in silence.

“For reference, as of this morning’s classes, the total scores are: Gwangcheon, thirty-six points, in first place. Magica has eight points minus two penalties, for a net of six. Crystal also has six, tying for second. Martial God has four, in third. Dai is at zero, in fifth. And last, Ucheon Academy is at negative two, dead last.”

Abel’s announcement cast a heavy silence over the group.

“Accumulating points doesn’t just get you exempted from the meal ticket race—there are other benefits, too. So everyone, work harder. Now then, Gwangcheon, go ahead inside.”

“Understood. Let’s go.”

I led the three of them into the cafeteria.

Glancing back midway, I saw every student watching us, their faces full of envy, jealousy, and even anger.

A short while later, once we had received our trays and sat down, the sound of many footsteps echoed into the cafeteria.

“They must’ve set off.”

Seo Yui, who was already seated, spoke first.

“Do they really need to train us by starving us?”

They weren’t completely starved—hardtack and milk would still be provided.

And like us, if they accumulated enough points, they could be exempt from the race.

But I didn’t say that aloud.

Seeing others go hungry would only stir Seo Yui’s painful memories of the past. That was why she spoke the way she did.

She really was a kindhearted girl.

“Lunch tastes great today.”

Meiling, on the other hand, was genuinely cheerful as she tore into the braised ribs.

It wasn’t just sparring, but actual combat training, and she had beaten Magica—that explained her good mood.

At that moment, Abel entered the cafeteria.

Humming to himself as he filled his tray, he walked naturally over to us.

“Mind if I join you?”

He stopped beside me and asked.

“Ah, uh, um, well…!”

Lumina stammered in a panic.

“Of course. Please.”

I gave Abel a nod.

“Thanks.”

He pulled out the chair and sat down beside me.

“I had a short chat with the executive committee chairman earlier.”

He looked at us as he spoke.

“They said in all of HAUT’s history, no one has ever collected over thirty points within two days—especially when only the morning sessions have finished.”

Meiling’s smile widened again, and Lumina gave a shy grin. Seo Yui alone kept her usual calm expression.

“But… none of you are actually in the level 30s, are you?”

It was a sudden strike.

Meiling’s smile faded, and Lumina’s shoulders gave a faint tremor.

“So you noticed.”

I met Abel’s gaze.

He had been watching us since yesterday. It wouldn’t take long for him to realize we were different from the others.

And of course, Riyu Homar and the executive committee waiting in the building nearby would have noticed as well.

There was no point lying about being in the 30s.

“You probably know, but I’m also famous for leveling up quickly.”

Abel smiled brightly.

“But when I was a first-year here, the highest level I reached was only 24. That’s why you four fascinate me. How did you level up so fast?”

“We just worked hard, and we were lucky to find good companions.”

“Mm, effort matters. Everyone here worked hard—but that means you all must have worked even harder.”

Abel muttered as if to himself, then nodded.

“So, have you decided on your goals after graduation?”

I glanced at the three of them.

“I plan to become a professional Hunter.”

Seo Yui answered first.

“Me too.”

“M-me as well…”

Meiling and Lumina followed. Abel turned his eyes on me.

“I’m also aiming to become a professional Hunter, at least for now.”

It was a lie.

My true goal was to return to my original world.

“I see. So all four of you want to be pro Hunters.”

Abel’s face looked genuinely pleased.

“Then…”

He fixed us with a steady gaze.

“Would you consider joining my guild after graduation? It’s called All Around.”

At that, Lumina, Meiling, and Seo Yui’s eyes went wide.

‘Well, now.’

This was an event I had never encountered in the HAUT of the game.

(End of Chapter)

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