Sunday, 5 p.m.

All of us were waiting at Gimpo Airport.

Ever since the Human-Demon War reduced Incheon Airport to rubble, international flights to London, New York, Cape Town, Dubai, and so on had been rerouted through Gimpo. Gimpo had taken damage too, but less severely—and with Seoul so close, it had been prioritized for repairs. At least, that was the official “setting.”

Honestly, isn’t that a bit of a stretch?

After all, half of humanity had died in the war, and civilization was barely crawling back up in scattered city-states. And yet here was Lumina, flying back and forth as an exchange student.

Of course, Seoul was considered the top Hunter hub in the world. It had the most Hunters, the highest-level academies, and—most importantly—the Crystal Academy.

Other cities were lucky to have one, maybe two, basic Hunter academies. Seoul boasted six. Some, like Martial God and Magica, were specialized institutions that trained only a particular fighting style. That kind of infrastructure simply didn’t exist anywhere else.

Crystal Academy, especially, was on another level. It had the best faculty, the best facilities, and graduating meant any guild or corporation would snatch you up. In the game, starting the story from Crystal Academy gave you an immediate full set of magic gear—something no other academy could offer.

Of course, the tuition was astronomical, but still.

By comparison, our Gwangcheon Academy was just a hair above the average foreign academy. Which said a lot about how weak those others must be.

So maybe Lumina’s parents just really, really cared about education…

“Ah.”

Meiling’s sudden exclamation broke my train of thought. She was staring at the electronic board.

“That’s her flight, right?”

“Looks like it.”

I followed her gaze. The London–Seoul flight status had just flipped to Arrived.

A few minutes later, the three of us—Meiling, Seo Yui, and I—stood with our eyes fixed on the stream of passengers spilling out. We searched for the familiar green-haired girl.

But no matter how long we looked, Lumina’s long bangs were nowhere to be seen.

“What’s going on?” Meiling muttered, growing anxious.

“She didn’t get into some kind of accident, did she?” Seo Yui added.

“Don’t say unlucky things like that!” Meiling snapped, glaring.

Strange. Everyone else is coming out just fine…

An uneasy feeling crept up my spine.

“G–guys!”

We all spun around at the voice from behind.

“I’m right here…”

Lumina stood there, clutching a large suitcase.

“What? When did you get here?” Meiling gasped.

“I spotted you a while ago. I even called out, but you didn’t notice at all…”

[…]

None of us said a word. We’d been staring at the gate the whole time, yet somehow we hadn’t seen her walk out. And now she was telling us she’d been calling to us, too.

Apparently, in just one week apart, our senses had completely deteriorated when it came to detecting Lumina’s presence.

“W–well, you’re safe, that’s what matters!” Meiling blurted, louder than necessary.

“You must be tired, right? Flying for so long.” Seo Yui quickly followed.

“Oh, no, I slept on the plane. I’m fine.”

“Eat yet?” I asked.

“Uh… airplane food. So I’m not really hungry.”

“Then let’s get back to the dorms and unload your stuff first.”

“Okay.”

We all piled into a taxi bound for Gwangcheon.

“Did you enjoy your time with family?” Seo Yui asked from the back.

“Yes. Though when I was boarding, my dad wouldn’t let go of my hand. It was a little embarrassing.”

I couldn’t see Meiling’s face from the front seat, but I had a good idea of what kind of expression she was wearing.

“I promised I’d stay at least two weeks during winter break before he finally let me go.”

Winter break, huh. I’d need to come up with a good excuse by then to stop her from leaving again.

“Oh, by the way, Yein.”

“Yeah?”

“There was a report in London about dungeon phase-shifts.”

“…Really? Haven’t heard anything here.”

“It was on the news the day before I flew out.”

“Then they’ll be needing Weight of Phase Fixation too,” Meiling remarked.

“If you hadn’t handed them to the mayor, we could’ve made a fortune monopolizing the market.”

She didn’t know the real reason—that I’d essentially bought myself a “Mayor Cheon Jiwon license” with that gift. And I had no intention of telling her.

“Yein probably cared more about letting people enter dungeons safely, sooner rather than later,” Seo Yui said quietly.

“….”

Meiling didn’t argue with that.

Well, she’s not entirely wrong. But honestly, securing Cheon Jiwon’s goodwill mattered more.

Still, I wished they’d stop bringing it up. Not in a taxi with a driver listening in.

“Oh, right. Yesterday I actually met the mayor.”

“What?”

“You mean—you actually met the Seoul mayor?”

“Meiling.”

I twisted around to give her a look.

“Later.”

Only then did she seem to realize. She pressed her lips shut and nodded reluctantly.

About an hour and a half later, we returned to campus. As we walked toward a nearby café, the subject came back up.

“So the mayor knows we were the ones who dealt with Persilla?” Seo Yui asked.

“I doubt it. Logically, academy students like us couldn’t have done it.”

I shook my head.

“And he didn’t buy the story about her suicide either.”

“Then… he won’t investigate us?”

“Investigate, sure. Arrest? No.”

“Why not?”

“Because the mayor despises villains. Even if he knew Persilla died by our hands, he wouldn’t seek to punish us.”

“And how exactly would you know that?” Meiling demanded.

“Because there’s precedent. Remember the serial-killer Hunter who was murdering civilians? A guild hunted him down and killed him inside a dungeon.”

“Oh—I think I heard about that,” Lumina spoke up. “Wasn’t that Sawblade Ka’ho?”

I nodded.

“Why did a guild go after him, instead of the police or security forces?” Seo Yui asked.

“The vice guild master’s daughter was one of his victims.”

“Ah…”

“Afterward, the guild was suspended for a month. But that was it. No one went to an awakened prison.”

“That was the mayor’s doing?” Meiling asked.

“No proof. But everyone knew it. The punishment was far too light otherwise—and only someone at his level could’ve made that call.”

The postwar judicial system was nowhere near as meticulous as the one that had existed before the Human-Demon War.

“So my conclusion is this: there’s no need to worry too much, Seo Yui.”

“…Alright. If you say so, I’ll stop dwelling on it.”

“Lumina, you too. Don’t worry.”

“Yes.”

She nodded quietly at me.

That evening, we let Lumina choose what to have for dinner.

After much hesitation, she finally picked sundae-guk—blood sausage soup.

“Out of all the choices, that’s what you want?” Meiling folded her arms.

“It’s just… while I was in London, I kept craving it.”

“What did you eat in London, then?” Seo Yui asked.

“Mostly my dad’s cooking. Chicken curry, meat pies, that kind of thing.”

“Never tried them, but they sound good.”

“You can find them in Seoul too. Let’s go together sometime.”

“Sure.”

“Meiling as well.”

“…Fine.”

Meiling’s reply was soft, almost reluctant.

With Lumina back, the air felt steadier somehow. The conversation was utterly ordinary, but it was the sort of conversation we hadn’t been able to have while she was gone.

Most of all, I didn’t need to wedge myself between Seo Yui and Meiling to keep the peace anymore. That alone was a relief.

We ate generously at the soup shop, filled our bellies, and began walking back toward Gwangcheon.

That was when the incident happened.

Night had fallen fully, the long summer sun finally gone. The faint glow of scattered streetlamps guided our steps toward the school gates. And then we stopped.

Something lay slumped against the outer wall of Gwangcheon Academy.

“Y–Yein… is that… a person?” Lumina pressed closer to me, her voice trembling.

“Looks like it.”

I narrowed my eyes at the figure.

Whoever it was had wrapped themselves in a massive piece of burlap, like a crude cloak. Long, red hair spilled out—it looked like a woman.

“Maybe just a beggar?” Meiling suggested.

“She looks young… about our age,” Seo Yui murmured.

“But she’s not moving.”

“D–don’t tell me…”

Lumina clapped both hands over her mouth, horrified.

“Yein!”

Ignoring them, I stepped forward.

If she really was just a vagrant, I could let the security office handle it. But I couldn’t just walk past.

The Lens of Lavzahi was already showing me her status screen, and what I saw made my stomach tighten.

“Excuse me, are you alright?”

I closed the distance and called out.

At that instant, the figure lurched upright and lunged at me.

“!!”

But before she could reach me—

Crack!

Her arm was wrenched back at a grotesque angle. Seo Yui had appeared in a blur and caught her mid-strike.

I actually gaped—more at Seo Yui’s speed than the attack. It was as if she’d been waiting for it.

“This is…”

Seo Yui’s eyes were wide for once, fixed on the arm she was holding.

It was huge, grotesque, covered in coarse silver fur like it had been stolen from a beast. The clawed fingers—five of them—were neither human nor animal.

“H–huh…”

“What… what the hell is that?” Lumina and Meiling’s voices shook behind me.

So she’s here already…

The woman thrashed violently, breaking free from Seo Yui’s hold. The burlap fell away—and she was naked beneath.

Her other arm and both legs were also coated in that same silver fur, though they were otherwise human-sized.

The red-haired girl seized Seo Yui’s body in a single motion.

“Urgh!”

“Seo Yui!”

“Yui!”

Lumina and Meiling both cried out.

Seo Yui struggled, but the grip was too strong.

I forced down my panic. Whatever else was happening, I had to get her free first.

“Jodie!” I shouted.

The woman’s head snapped toward me, eyes wide.

“H–how… do you… know me…?”

“We’re not here to hurt you! Please—let her go.”

“I… don’t trust… you…” Her words were broken, strained.

“You need someone you can trust, right?”

“Ugh…” Seo Yui groaned, her face contorted in pain.

“Yein, move!”

Meiling had her staff raised, fury in her voice. Lumina had drawn a dagger, her face pale.

I threw up a hand. “Wait! If you attack, Seo Yui’s the one who’ll suffer.”

“Then what do you plan to do!?” Meiling snapped.

“Trust me. Leave this to me.”

I turned back to the girl.

“You came here looking for your friend at the Academy. But she isn’t here—school’s on break, and it’s late at night.”

For a second, her expression went vacant, her lips parting slightly.

“I… I need help… Only she… can help me…”

“We’ll help you instead. Please, trust us.”

“H…how? How can I… trust you…?”

Seo Yui’s struggles were weakening. Cold sweat slid down my back.

“We were the ones who stormed Valhall.”

Her eyes widened sharply.

“The girl you’re holding was one of the Awakened we rescued from there. She fought beside us.”

“Truly…?”

“Yes. And I was the one who first revealed Valhall’s existence through your friend. We’re on your side.”

“….”

Then—

“Urgh.”

Seo Yui dropped to the ground, landing hard on her rear.

The woman lowered her arms, then fixed her gaze on me.

“Help… me…”

And with that, she collapsed, strength spent.

“Seo Yui!”

Lumina scrambled to her, kneeling at her side.

“She’s alright. Doesn’t look like she’s hurt,” Seo Yui muttered, voice weak.

“What the hell was that? And why mention Valhall?” Meiling demanded, rushing to my side.

“I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to hide her.”

I spoke quickly.

“…Tch! You’d better explain properly afterward, or I swear I’ll lob a fireball at you!”

Grumbling, Meiling bent down and pulled the burlap back over the girl’s body.

(End of Chapter)

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.