<...Why are you here?>


    <’Cause I wanna talk to you—>


    <No, I’m asking why you even bothered to speak with me,> said Eun Chang-min on the third day of the Gold Rush. Caught him in one of the big lecture halls, presumably walking his schedule or something. <Shouldn’t you be more concerned about your recent harassment?>


    Right, Tak Hwa-yeon decided to spoil me lately: last night’s dinner and today’s breakfast were spiked with something nasty (my mental health couldn’t handle the actual answer), several of her goons tried cornering me this morning, and my [PMs] were clogged with inappropriate spam. When I come back to my room later today, the door was gonna be trashed again.


    <Yeah, you know what’s up with Hwa-yeon?>


    Chang-min raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the whiteboards. <So you did deduce the culprit.>


    <I mean… Taeyang literally has zero horse in the race, Won-sik told me himself he was innocent, and you don’t look like you employ those kinds of tactics. Unless…?>


    <Thank you for reminding me how simple the mystery actually is. Yes, that…girl appreciates a social battle more than a physical one. She’s experimenting on what makes you tick. Surprisingly, you seem pretty composed.>


    <Might be the brain damage Kim Min-jae gave me, or maybe I’m so badass that you gotta give me a Task.> Boom, segue.


    Disgust was plain as white bread across his face. <A Task—? Ugh, I guess this is better than having to waste my time with a Duel.>


    I crossed my arms and cocked my head. <Did you seriously not plan on giving me a Task? You literally authored the document.>


    <I did, but I was hoping you wouldn’t approach me—>


    <Yeah, well, Jun-hyeok did say you think I’m a ‘dumb American slut.’>


    <Mhm.> Motherfucker wasn’t even denying it! <Which makes it more shocking that you aren’t begging for a Duel.>


    I gritted my teeth. <Y’know, I can change that right now—>


    <Save your breath, unless you want to visit—what’s his name again?—Chae Yo-han, the healer belonging to that obnoxious British doctor.> Okay, I might actually switch my Appeal at this rate. <Oh, you’re glaring at me. I must’ve touched a nerve.>


    <Multiple nerves,> I growled.


    <Whatever, you asked for a Task and I’m contractually obligated to create one. I…> Chang-min got off the whiteboard and began pacing around at the lecturer’s podium, his nice shoes making satisfying clacks against the hardwood platform. <Give me a moment, I’m trying to think.>


    I crossed my arms. <You aren’t gonna assign a Task at the last second, are you?>


    <I can. We didn’t resolve that loophole, but it would technically violate the ‘nature of the examination’ clause. I—ah, I got one.>


    <What is it? Gonna ask me to wear a cute maid costume and serve you drinks?>


    <You? I’d hire a rat on the street first.> God, somehow this prick irritates me more than Min-jae. <Do you know who Sung Yeong-ae (???) is?>


    I shook my head. After discovering Lynn was a doctor here, I literally looked up every single faculty member last night. Turns out, there were more people going under the radar. <Doesn’t ring a bell.>


    <Same for me, so we share a problem. According to our other instructors, she will be our new magic theory and fundamental professor alongside teaching an elective in demesnes and formations.>


    <Aren’t those classes supposed to be taught by…dammit, what’s his name—?>


    <It doesn’t matter now,> said Chang-min. <He’s been ‘released’ from his position as of a month ago due to ‘emergency circumstances.’ From what everyone tells me, Instructor Sung is our last-minute replacement. I want you to gather information about her.>


    Okay, gather information about a last-minute substitute. That actually wasn''t unreasonable. Hopefully, it wouldn’t end up disastrous like yesterday’s Task. A couple problems, though.


    I raised a finger. <First, your condition is way too vague.> Then another. <You should shove your magic wand up your ass. I’m not denying the Task, just wanna say that.>


    Chang-min rolled his eyes. <Your first point is fair. Instructor Sung, according to my sources, almost always carries around a notebook or journal of sorts—a tome, perhaps—so I want you to photograph every page and send them to me.>


    <You want me to—? Nevermind, this sounds more reasonable than Ban Won-sik’s Task. That’s doable. Just gotta…somehow figure out the schedule of a woman I never met within twenty-four hours.>


    <Looks like we’re agreed—> (<I didn’t say anything yet—!>) <Have a good time, Zhang. Sincerely, I hope you fail every Appeal.>


    ***


    Sung Yeong-ae was a ghost. Nothing on the school’s website, nothing on social media, it was like she didn’t exist at all. The only proof of her existence was from word-of-mouth; every magic instructor I’d spoken to, they confirmed Chang-min’s claims. All of them. She was gonna be our new instructor and she carried around a notebook everywhere she went.


    I even found her office, which conveniently had her nameplate. Door was locked, of course, but at least she was a real person.


    Question was, how was I gonna get her notebook within twenty-four hours? Trying to conduct thorough surveillance was out-of-the-question given the time limit, so plan B was trying to exploit natural events. By that, lunch. It was eleven right now. All I needed to do was find the right people and ask: “Hey! Where’s Instructor Sung? Where is she eating? When will she come back to her office? I gotta talk with her.” Then, I would figure out the rest of the steps from there.


    Alternatively, I could create a crisis on my own. Like, for example, pulling the fire alarm while she was in her office or blowing up the building next door. Something that would force Instructor Sung to leave her office and be tunnel-visioned into dealing with an emergency.


    Problem was, though, how the fuck was I gonna accomplish anything? I didn''t know any personal details about her, not even her favorite color. Everyone I’d spoken to, they knew of her but no one personally knew her.


    Instructor Sung was either a hermit, the most introverted woman alive, or she hated people.


    So Yoon-ho but with boobs.


    “Dammit all…” I groaned, kicking the rocks outside Ether Hall, the main academic building for the magical arts.


    <Zhang.> And to make my day worse, the guy I least wanted to see found me. This was a nice change-of-pace, however. Instead of me bothering the fuck outta him, it was the other way around. What a tool.


    I scoffed, puffed my chest, and stubbornly turned the other direction. <The Demon of Baekyong Academy is here to torment me again.>


    Kim Min-jae, who’d gotten used to my antics at this point, pressed, <What are you doing? I heard you accepted a Task from Eun Chang-min.>


    Being a little pissed, I snapped, <Why that’s a concern to you? You almost sent me to God. I’m surprised you didn’t go for a third Duel and fuck that up too.>


    <I couldn’t.> He lifted his right arm. <You disabled my right arm for hours. Even today, it’s not at a hundred-percent. What pressure point technique did you use on me?>


    <Oh!> I threw my arms up. <Now you’re payin’ attention to me after I poked your arm a few times? Fuck off. You’re lucky it’s just your arm and not your cock—not like you’re using it—what the hell y’want with me anyway? Round two?>


    Min-jae grinded his teeth, clearly annoyed and hopefully that was directed at himself. <On the contrary, no. I wondered if a girl like you knows how those techniques function in the first place.>


    I shrugged. <Enlighten me.>


    He eased up and explained, <It’s not like in martial arts movies. The Phenomena Production System’s structure is wildly influenced by genetics. An American would have notable differences from a Korean, for example. A single pressure point technique won’t be equally effective on everyone.>


    I muttered, <Unless you’re Cross.>


    <Unless you’re him, a regular human, who somehow developed the perfect pressure point system to kill Slayers like us.>


    <What’s your point, dickhead?> I asked, my voice low and impatient.


    <Yours affected me. Your technique is fitted for this region, Zhang.>


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    I smirked, head cocked back. <Or I’m actually apart of the Counterforce searching for naughty cultivators to kill.>


    <Uh huh.> Well, using [Phenomena Zero] might’ve backfired on me. Min-jae knew too much about pressure point techniques; now, he was actually seeing me as a credible threat. Perhaps him finally respecting me might pay dividends down the road, or alternatively, I moved up on his list of "people he oughta kill first."


    Seeing that he wasn’t gonna get any answers out of me, Min-jae looked toward the rest of campus like his next kill was out there waiting. <What did Eun Chang-min put you up to?>


    <Wanna help?> I sarcastically said.


    Min-jae was silent.


    <Awesome, ‘cause I got a task for you: there’s a cliff nearby. I want you to look over the edge, shove your arm up so far up your ass that you can grab your tongue, then drop. At the bottom, I’ll tell you my three sizes and my dirty lil’ secrets.>


    <Do what you want.> He turned around, finally about to leave me alone. <Don’t die so easily next time.>


    ***


    After that terrible conversation with Kim Min-jae, I abandoned my idea to intercept Instructor Sung at lunch. Not because I was upset—though, it helped—it was because I didn’t eat breakfast this morning thanks to a certain bitch and I needed food in my stomach.


    Genuine food. Not shit on a plate that would leave me woozy for hours.


    Hopefully, Hwa-yeon’s insiders wouldn’t be working today. Otherwise, I was probably gonna live off nearby convenience stores for the rest of the week.


    However, something else happened instead. Knowing I was gonna sound exactly like my brother, I might as well say it: damn, my luck was shitty, had always been shitty, and would be shitty for my entire life.


    <Zhang!> said Gu Sang (??), one of Hwa-yeon’s most loyal muscleheads. I meant it. All muscle and no hair. Oh, an empty wallet too from buying steroids.


    Before I could ignore him and move on, my back hit another dickwad’s chest—Dae Myung-jun (???)—and the last douchebag boxed me in. His name was Gong Kwang-hoon (???). Two unremarkable, inconsequential dudes coming from relatively small families. A part of me assumed they only joined Tak Hwa-yeon’s faction because she was the only chick in Gold.


    That’s besides the point. I was trapped in the middle of the perverted trio as onlookers pretended to not notice and carried on with their day. Thanks, guys. Problem with being a girl was the obvious height disadvantage. I had to look up at these fuckers, especially Gu Sang who was somehow taller than Alex.


    I rolled my eyes. <Not in the mood. Just fuck off and lemme eat in peace—>


    Myung-jun shoved me toward Gu Sang, and I caught myself inches away from burying my face in his disgusting shirt. <You’ve been a real bitch lately, Zhang. We wanted to be nice—>


    I spat, <Tell Hwa-yeon to leave me alone and fuck off—>


    As I raised my hand, Kwang-hoon grabbed my wrist. He was trying to squeeze with all his strength, but Lynn was thrice as strong as him. <Stop acting like you’re too good for us. We know American girls like you slut yourself around.>


    My restrained hand flopped around to make a point. <Can you guys go five seconds without calling me a ‘slut’ or a ‘whore’? While you’re at it, let go of my hand.>


    <No,> said Gu Sang, breath smelling like cigarettes and dental calculus. <I think we should eat lunch alone, so we can wipe that bitchy look off your face. How does that sound? We’ll give you all the attention you want.>


    I clenched my hands, making sure these perverted fucks see my eyes. <I’m gonna give you a few seconds to walk away.>


    Kwang-hoon laughed and dragged me a step toward him. <What can a weak bitch like you—?>


    [Skill Activat—


    Something struck Gu Sang on the back of his head. He stumbled backwards, dazed, and Myung-jun had to catch his friend before he cracked his skull on the pavement.


    Kwang-hoon released my hand. <Who—?>


    <Me,> said a tall woman, more handsome than most of the boys in my section. She brushed aside her straight black hair and tapped a thick, hardback journal against her square-rimmed glasses. <Leave this girl alone.>


    Myung-jun shouted, <Why should we listen to—?!>


    The woman extended her arm at him. <Dae Myung-jun.> Then at the musclehead trying to put his head back together. <Gu Sang.> And finally at the last one. <Gong Kwang-hoon. I’ll remember your names when classes start.>


    Wait, classes? Don’t tell me that getting sexually harassed actually worked out in my favor.


    <I’m your new magic professor: Instructor Sung Yeong-ae. My students are already disappointing me, but my colleagues say I can ‘take any measures necessary’ to correct disappointments,> she said, her voice icier than frost. There was a clear, dark contempt in her eyes that ran deeper than the situation called for. It was a contempt for everything—her career, her life, the world itself—and her resentment concentrated into three despicable perverts.


    They’d never felt such nasty intensity before, especially from a complete unknown. So they kicked the ground, swore under their breaths and glared at me for one last time, and hobbled away.


    At least they were smart enough to walk away. Thought they''d be stupid enough to chat up the handsome unnie.


    Instructor Sung sighed and tugged at her turtle-neck. Looking at her now, she really was handsome. Unlike with Lynn''s charm, which was loud and eye-catching, Instructor Sung''s was quiet, subdued. Cool, if that made sense. Despite the different approach, they both had this strange magnetism that made them appear larger than life. Well, Lynn’s wasn’t strange at all—I knew what her deal was—but that meant I should cozy up to my new instructor.


    <Thank you, Instructor Sung!> I cheered, holding my hands together. <Never woulda thought I’d meet my new instructor like this.>


    Instructor Sung looked at me indifferently. <Mhm, right.>


    <I heard you suddenly had to take an instructor position. Is that right?>


    <Ugh.> She rubbed her forehead. <Initially, I was contracted for a research position. However, my predecessor decided magic wasn’t enough excitement and was caught in certain group-chats.> (<Oh.>) <An Nth room.> (<Oh.>) <So I have to fill his shoes.>


    Well, now I know what happened to the old guy. Good riddance.


    I said, <The change might be sudden, but it sounds exciting—>


    <I’d rather be doing anything but teach undisciplined children.> She then muttered quietly, <It’s bad enough that I’m roommates with a disastrous woman.>


    <Who—?>


    <Forget it, Zhang.>


    I gasped. <My really cool instructor knows my name—?>


    <Are you an idiot?> Instructor Sung snarled. <Everyone is either talking about you or Student Kim. They don’t have high hopes for you.>


    <But at least they know my name.>


    <Through the worst reasons.> Instructor Sung pulled on her turtle-neck again, wincing.


    I asked, <What’s wrong with your turtle-neck? You don’t look half-bad in one.>


    <I hate these damned things—don’t ask me why.> (<Roger.>) <Regardless, don’t mistake my act of goodwill as favoritism. I’d rather not see something like that and let it transpire.>


    <In other words, you’re doing the bare minimum to be a decent person!> I cheered.


    <Yes, and next time you say that, use a different tone. In fact, next time this occurs, I recommend that you actually use your [Skills]. Your section has no respect for you and presume you’re hopelessly weak, which means they’ll continue to bully you.>


    I winked. <What if I’m actually weak and not just pretending?>


    <Don’t make useless hypotheticals,> growled Instructor Sung. <You have years of combat experience. You''re one of the most dangerous students in your section.>


    In a single sentence, she wiped away my wink and stupid smiling and cheery voice. <...Who told you that?>


    <None of your concern.> Instructor Sung spun on her feet. <Stop playing around, Zhang, and do what you need to do. Whatever it is, I’d rather you keep the collateral damage to a minimum—>


    <Wait!> Ignoring the fact that she somehow knew my calluses, I stopped her from leaving. Thanks to the excitement, I almost forgot the real reason why I needed to meet her. <Before you leave, I gotta ask for a favor! I promise this will be the only favor I’ll ask, so hear me out!>


    Instructor Sung raised an eyebrow.


    ***


    [Dorothea Zhang]


    <hey are you still in the same classroom?>


    [Eun Chang-min]


    <No, but I’ll give you my location. Do you have an update on the Task?>


    [Dorothea Zhang]


    <mhm!>


    <Why did you bring her here?!>


    <I mean, what’s better than taking a hundred pictures? I know, bringing the coolest instructor for an in-person interview!> On the second-floor of the library, I presented the beautiful and heroic Instructor Sung Yeong-ae to the second-worst Gold in my section!


    Instructor Sung had a very flat expression. <What.>


    Meanwhile, Chang-min had his fingers intertwined in his hair and dangerously pulled. <I told you to bring photos of her journal, not bring the instructor herself!>


    <What, d’you think I’m gonna ask if I can snoop ‘round in her personal belongings?> I confidently shook my head. <So I did you one better: you can ask her yourself! As a Gold, you should be good at that!>


    <Are you an idiot?>


    <Are you an idiot?!>


    <I should’ve known this was related to a Task…> Instructor Sung held onto her notebook tighter. <Zhang, of everything you could''ve possibly done, you thought this was the best move?>


    I innocently nodded. <Yeah. I’m way too lazy to learn your schedule, figure out a way to isolate you from your baby, and take a thousand photos within a few minutes. But why go through such a convoluted plan if a simpler one exists?>


    <Because that’s the entire point of the Task!> Chang-min was borderline screaming at me. <I—I don’t understand how incredibly stupid you are, but that doesn’t matter anymore! You fail the Task!>


    I dramatically gasped, putting my hands on my cheeks. <Then who’s gonna ask Instructor Sung for her life-story? You clearly wanna know more ‘bout her—!>


    <Shut up! You obviously don’t understand a single thing about Baekyong! I—God, no wonder Kim Min-jae was so compelled to incap you! Get out! Get the hell out! If I see you again, I’ll finish what that brute started, and this time, you won''t be saved by Chae Yo-han and that bitch-doctor—!>


    <Eun Chang-min, correct?> Instructor Sung suddenly broke through his yelling with a scarily neutral tone.


    Chang-min scoffed, wiping saliva off his lips. <What, Instructor?>


    She opened her journal, flipped to a random page, and wrote his name down. <You’re the only student I look forward to teaching.>


    I…


    I don’t think that’s a good thing.


    I whistled, giving him a thumbs-up. <I’ll see you whenever. Thanks for giving me a chance!>


    Without waiting for a response, I ported.


    ***


    [Eun Chang-min]


    <Update: Dorothea Zhang failed my task.>