About ten minutes of walking, maybe.
A building came into view.
Da-hong spotted it from a distance and looked it over.
It was quite large.
A tall structure of glass and concrete interlocked together.
Sunlight glinted off the glass surface.
Lower buildings stretched out to the sides.
A sports field.
A zone that looked like a training ground.
A long iron fence ran along the perimeter outside.
Neatly trimmed trees were visible on the other side of the fence.
Da-hong stopped without thinking.
Then muttered, indifferently.
“Not bad.”
Brief.
But those were words from Da-hong, who until now had breezed past most things with barely a hum.
“Right?”
Se-ha’s shoulders lifted with a hint of pride.
He looked toward the main gate and said,
“It’s incredibly hard to get in here. Especially for the Summoner track.”
“Is that so?”
“You need to score in the top five percent on the written exam just to be eligible to apply. Students come from all over the country, so the competition is fierce.”
Da-hong looked up at the building again.
It seemed fitting for its appearance—an academy that only admitted exceptionally capable students.
“That main building alone goes three floors underground and twelve above ground. The underground levels have training rooms and mock Gate simulation zones, and the upper floors are classrooms and research labs. What you see next to the sports field over there is the outdoor Summoning training ground. On nice days, they hold outdoor drills there.”
As Se-ha spoke, his voice gradually grew louder.
“I ranked first in my class on the written exam. I came in as a scholarship student when I enrolled.”
“Hmm.”
“My Summoning ability is the problem, so I’m at the bottom of the rankings now, but… my theory is flawless. Even the professor said my Summoning circle designs are beyond reproach.”
Da-hong glanced at Se-ha.
She thought of the books crammed into every corner of his room.
He was a boy who studied hard.
She’d known that.
But the reason he hadn’t been able to Summon all this time was probably…
‘Because I killed everything he tried to Summon.’
Well.
No particular need to tell him that.
“Good for you, then.”
“Hehe.”
Se-ha laughed, a little embarrassed.
Just then.
“Well, look who it is.”
A low, unpleasant voice.
Se-ha flinched.
And slowly turned his head.
A group wearing the same school uniform as Se-ha.
Four of them.
The one who looked like the leader strode forward.
“Yu Se-ha, you useless idiot’s back again?”
It was clearly said loud enough for everyone around to hear.
“I told you it’d be better to withdraw quietly before you get expelled. Why won’t you listen?”
“…Lee Sang-jun.”
Se-ha murmured quietly.
Sang-jun shoved Se-ha’s shoulder.
It was a casual shove, but Se-ha staggered badly.
“Hey, guys. The idiot who can’t even Summon is back.”
“Seriously? Still hasn’t withdrawn?”
“What kind of nerve does it take to show up again?”
Snickering came from behind.
Se-ha tried to ignore the laughter and move away.
But then Sang-jun stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
Se-ha muttered quietly.
“…Move. Let me through.”
But Sang-jun just smirked and didn’t budge—instead, he stepped even closer.
Then spoke in a low, menacing tone.
“What are you even going for? You’re just going to go home having done nothing again today?”
“…”
“Honestly, isn’t it laughable? A Summoner who can’t Summon. At least with non-Awakened people, you never know when they might Awaken. But you? You’ve already Awakened, and you still can’t Summon. That makes you worse than someone who hasn’t Awakened at all.”
“…Calling ordinary people ‘non-Awakened’ as an insult is a disciplinary offense.”
“So you’re not denying that you’re worse than non-Awakened people?”
Se-ha dropped his gaze to the ground.
Lee Sang-jun looked down at him and smirked.
“Why not just re-enroll in the general track? You’re good at studying, right? You could actually use that there. The Summoner path clearly isn’t for you.”
Quiet laughter rippled through the group.
Then Sang-jun’s gaze shifted to Da-hong, standing beside Se-ha.
White hair.
White suit.
Horns.
“Hey, what’s this. Did you bring a cosplay girl? Wanted her to cosplay as your Summon or something…”
Sang-jun took a step closer, trying to get a proper look at Da-hong’s face, and stopped.
Red eyes.
“…”
It was just a moment.
The snickering cut off abruptly.
The others who caught a look at Da-hong’s face had similar reactions.
Sang-jun cleared his throat and twisted his expression.
“What kind of thing did you drag here for an exam. What rank is that supposed to be. Wouldn’t even make F-rank. Is it a succubus?”
At that, Se-ha clenched his fist.
“…Don’t talk about her like that.”
It was the first time he’d raised his voice.
Sang-jun’s expression darkened.
“What?”
“Don’t say things like that to Da-hong.”
A brief silence fell.
Sang-jun let out a scornful laugh, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Who does a failing student think he is, telling people what to do?”
And he shoved Se-ha hard.
“Ugh…!”
This time it wasn’t casual.
Se-ha stumbled and fell straight to the ground.
The moment Da-hong’s eyes flickered slightly—
“Stop it!”
A bold voice cut in.
Se-ha looked up.
A ponytail.
A perfectly neat uniform.
A girl carrying a wooden sword was approaching with confident strides.
“What do you think you’re doing first thing on exam morning?”
“…Han I-sol.”
Sang-jun’s expression soured.
“Stay out of it—you’re from a different department. This has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me. If the professors see you putting your hands on a classmate in front of the exam hall, what do you think happens to you?”
Sang-jun stared at I-sol for a moment, then clicked his tongue.
“Tch.”
He jerked his chin toward the group.
“Let’s go.”
“Pfft.”
Sang-jun’s group moved off.
I-sol watched them go, then turned her gaze to Se-ha, still sitting on the ground.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Se-ha got up and brushed off his uniform.
I-sol looked him up and down and let out a sigh.
“You need to carry yourself with more confidence. You keep shrinking into yourself—that’s exactly why those kinds of people come after you.”
“…That’s easier said than done.”
“Practice. It’s not that hard.”
“…”
Se-ha started to say something more, then just closed his mouth.
I-sol turned her gaze to Da-hong, standing beside Se-ha.
“Um… is the person next to you a Summon, by any chance?”
An uncertain question.
Among all the Summons she’d seen at the academy, the most human-like was maybe a skeleton soldier at best.
“Oh…”
I-sol was briefly at a loss for words.
Because she’d gotten a proper look at Da-hong’s face.
Bleached hair.
Blood-red eyes.
And that face.
An appearance that seemed to belong to another world entirely.
Da-hong spoke to I-sol, who was staring at her.
“Something you want to say?”
“…Oh.”
I-sol realized she’d been standing there in a daze and quickly looked away.
“Ahem, ahem… I apologize for staring.”
Her eyes weren’t frightened or shaken.
‘Interesting.’
The same eyes she’d used to look at the group that had been bullying Se-ha.
A child with no darkness in her heart.
Da-hong thought to herself.
I-sol turned back toward Se-ha.
“Oh, right. I have an errand the professor asked me to run, so I’ll head off first.”
“Oh, s-sure.”
“Alright, good luck on the exam today! Bye!”
“Yeah, oh, bye-e…”
I-sol ran off in the other direction.
Se-ha watched until her retreating figure disappeared.
Da-hong watched him in silence.
His ears had gone red.
“Someone you know?”
“Yes, she’s our year’s class president. Her name is Han I-sol.”
“Hmm.”
Da-hong grinned and said,
“You like her, don’t you.”
“What!? N-no! What are you—what on earth are you talking about—!”
Se-ha jumped and denied it vehemently.
Da-hong just kept grinning and said nothing more.
There was no need to.
She simply walked on, snickering to herself.
Se-ha hurried after her, keeping pace, and said,
“She’s just a classmate, and I’m grateful she’s been kind to me—! I absolutely do not have any such improper—!”
“Sure, the joys of youth.”
“I’m telling you it’s not like that!? Are you even listening!?”
“Mm-hm.”
“It’s not!”
Da-hong left Se-ha ranting and raving and walked into the exam hall.
The corner of her mouth was curled up ever so slightly.
Demons are sensitive to desire.
And how long had it been since she’d encountered desire this pure?
Not bad at all.
***
A funeral hall packed with chrysanthemums.
The young man in the portrait was smiling.
Moon Jeong-hyeon, head of the ‘Iron Claw’ Guild, pressed a handkerchief to the corner of his eye.
Dong-hyeon.
His son.
Twenty-two years old this year.
The kid had been a handful.
Fights, incidents, cleaning up the mess.
More times than he could count.
But what of it.
Nobody’s clean if you look hard enough.
A young man with hot blood in his veins—wasn’t that only natural?
He’d been the same when he was young.
Got blood on his hands, caused his share of trouble.
And all of that had become the foundation for leading a Guild when he grew up.
‘There’s no such thing as a good person in this world.
They’re just people without power.’
Dong-hyeon would have been the same.
He was going to inherit this Guild someday.
That son had been found dead in an alley.
In a state that was barely recognizable.
“…Dong-hyeon.”
The handkerchief crumpled in his grip.
Careful footsteps approached from behind.
“Boss.”
Kim Min-seong.
His right hand, and the Guild’s vice-leader.
“We’ve secured a witness statement. On the night of the incident, someone reported seeing a white-haired woman near the alley where Dong-hyeon was found. She was wearing a white suit and… reportedly had horns on her head.”
“…”
“She’s presumed to be an Awakened individual. Given the location, there may be a connection to the Hunter Academy—”
“You don’t need to dig into the details.”
Jeong-hyeon slowly turned around.
There were tear tracks on his face, but his eyes burned with a blazing thirst for revenge.
“Is it a crime worth dying for, a bunch of guys hanging around together at night? What’s wrong with that?”
“…”
“My son got done in by someone. That’s what matters. I don’t need reasons.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Min-seong bowed his head.
“Bring them to me.”
He growled, low and quiet.
“Bring them alive. I’ll handle the rest myself.”
“Understood.”
“Don’t care how you do it. Use as many of our people as you need.”
Jeong-hyeon turned his gaze back to the portrait.
His son’s smiling face.
“Someone laid hands on my son. They’re going to pay for that.”