The conversation with Lee Jiyeon, thankfully, ended without further incident.
Although I’d made a verbal misstep halfway through that had sent the atmosphere plummeting, I managed to recover and bring the discussion to a safe conclusion.
In the end, the talk ended on a positive note.
The main topic—the mentor issue—was resolved without problems, as we had mutually chosen each other.
Most importantly...
“Since you helped me so much back in China, I’ll make sure to repay you. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
‘Oh.’
The words “come to me if you need help” weren’t something to be taken lightly, especially when spoken by Lee Jiyeon, the heir to Taesan.
Hearing that, I unconsciously clenched my fist under the table.
In truth, my main reason for building a connection with Lee Jiyeon was to receive this kind of assistance.
I had intended to slowly develop a bond through the mentor program before asking for help, but she had already extended the offer.
It was ironic—something so dreadful from China had turned into a fortunate outcome.
Although the misfortune was immense, I decided to see the bright side.
Of course, just because I’d heard those words didn’t mean I’d cancel the mentorship or stop fostering our relationship.
Even aside from Seo Yul’s situation, there was much to gain by working with Lee Jiyeon.
For example, observing her in real-time and gathering information about Taesan bit by bit.
It would be even better if she demonstrated the applications of Taesan during our mentoring sessions.
Gathering information on Taesan was extremely important.
Not only was it a formidable unique ability, but it also seemed to hold clues to restoring my own body.
Finishing the last of my orange juice, I nodded politely.
[Thank you for the drink.]
[Sorry, my artifact glitched again.]
“Huh... Ah, I-I’m sorry.”
[No, it’s fine.]
[Seriously, it’s been acting up a lot lately.]
[I apologize for the earlier confusion.]
“N-No... I understand. I’m sorry too...”
[What I said earlier was really just a mistake.]
[It was a stray thought my artifact misinterpreted...]
[It definitely wasn’t self-destruction.]
“Yes... I’m sorry...”
...Lee Jiyeon seemed utterly broken.
Her haggard expression had worsened since we first met, and she kept bowing her head in apology, making my head ache.
In the original story, Lee Jiyeon’s mental fragility was similar, but it had never been this extreme.
Despite harboring inferiority and jealousy, she was steadfast, a person who accepted her shortcomings and strove to improve.
As a leader, she always took the vanguard, protecting those behind her like a dependable adult.
[Thank you for your time.]
[I’ll see you at our next mentoring session.]
“Take care on your way back...”
Only after reassuring her repeatedly that everything was fine and that it was all a misunderstanding could I finally part ways with Lee Jiyeon.
Being stuck in this regressed body came with a host of inconveniences.
There were too many to count, but the one currently bothering me the most was the discomfort caused by my short legs.
My reduced stride made moving around cumbersome.
No wonder Hong Yeonhwa and Elia insisted on carrying me around.
While my body was still superhuman and capable of running, even that was slower than before.
And it looked ridiculous.
“...Hey, kid? Could you─”
[First-year student of Ipchun Class, Lee Hayul.]
[Due to certain circumstances, this is my current appearance.]
“Oh, I see... I apologize.”
[Thank you for your consideration.]
On my way to my destination, I was stopped multiple times.
The passerby, likely a second-year student judging by his red tie, had been trying to help me.
Pulling on the cadet uniform tailored to my size, I responded curtly.
Though I knew his intentions were good, I couldn’t help but frown.
Flustered, the second-year stammered an apology before quickly retreating.
"......"
A faint breeze swept past, and the space behind me warped slightly. Several wind spirits popped out.
‘Carry me.’
The green glow flickered before swirling around me, lifting me off the ground.
Though it drew some odd stares, it was far better than trudging along on my short legs.
A soft, almost giggling sensation emanated from the spirits.
‘...You’re not mocking me, are you?’
The glow didn’t flicker in response.
Siyoram Academy utilized only about 30% of its grounds for regular cadet and staff activities.
The remaining 70% consisted of dungeons, monster breeding grounds, herb cultivation fields, and open spaces.
While entry to dangerous areas like the monster pens required permission, the open spaces were freely accessible to cadets.
These areas, called "Blank Zones," were surprisingly popular.
With their wide, open spaces and lack of people, they were perfect for conducting various experiments.
I often visited them too.
After awakening Assimilation, I’d experimented with it nearby.
‘...No traces left.’
I pressed my foot into the ground, crushing the vibrant grass.
This was the spot where I’d unleashed Guhwa previously. I’d erased any traces back then to avoid drawing attention.
Even now, upon closer inspection, there was no evidence left.
Though it was difficult to detect the residual effects of abilities like Guhwa, it was better to be cautious.
While it wouldn’t matter if someone discovered Guhwa, revealing Changhae or Taesan would be problematic.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up repeating the chaos of my third playthrough.
‘No people, no surveillance magic...’
I expanded my Observation to its maximum range. No people were nearby, nor were there any monitoring spells.
I sent spirits scattering in all directions for a direct sweep.
Only after confirming the absence of anyone did I let myself slump to the ground.
The open field I’d chosen had no obstacles like trees, letting the breeze flow pleasantly.
‘Then, let’s start with Taesan.’
Taesan.
A unique ability that enhances physical abilities dramatically and grants dominion over the earth simply by manifesting.
With further mastery, it allows the manipulation of vitality and lifeless energy.
It’s also the ability that might restore my body to its original state.
The second tower entry is scheduled for early in the semester. Before then, I want to fix my body.
There’s much to do, but fixing my body comes first.
I emptied my mind and focused.
Venus’ Office
Venus’ office was located on the top floor of the central administration building at Siyoram Academy.
As such, visitors were extremely rare.
The few who came were those with pressing matters, requiring direct, face-to-face discussions.
This kept Venus’ office perpetually quiet.
Not just in terms of sound, but the entire atmosphere was calm, fostering a sense of stillness in both body and mind.
“......”
Today, however, that wasn’t the case.
Her skin prickled. The constant intensity emanating from her guest displaced the usual serenity, grating on Venus’ nerves.
It wasn’t outright hostility, but the underlying displeasure and unease were enough to disrupt her concentration.
“I anticipated a visit from you at some point, though this is somewhat earlier than expected.”
Venus eventually surrendered, setting her documents aside.
She turned her gaze toward the woman seated on the guest sofa.
Golden eyes glinted with a sharp, menacing light.
It was none other than Atra Clyde, exuding a dangerous aura.
Breaking her silence, Atra finally spoke.
“You anticipated it... Does that mean you know why I’m here?”
“No, I expected you’d visit regarding Cadet Lee Hayul, but I’m unsure of the exact reason.”
“Judging by your expression, you seem to have a good idea of the purpose.”
“It’s a guess, not a certainty.”
Venus shook her head, as if denying the implication.
“I lack any unique abilities related to psychological insight. Of course, even if I did, they wouldn’t work on someone of your caliber, Clyde.”
“I’m not much of a talker.”
Atra’s voice cut in abruptly.
“Not the friendliest person either, so as before, I’ll get straight to the point.”
Atra inclined her head slightly.
“Tell me everything you know about Cadet Lee Hayul.”
The conversation paused momentarily.
Though Atra’s intensity had subsided, the office remained steeped in an awkward tension.
Venus blinked, her violet eyes—devoid of emotion and seemingly indifferent—focused on Atra.
“...You seem to care for Cadet Lee Hayul quite deeply.”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come here to ask.”
Atra tilted her head, her tone defiant.
In truth, Atra had no intention of delving deeply into Lee Hayul’s affairs before.
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Her original plan was simple: train him enough to ensure he wouldn’t die a meaningless death and then leave him alone.
That was it—no interference, no nurturing, just skill-building before ignoring him entirely.
But that was no longer possible.
Atra wasn’t as emotionally detached as she thought, and Lee Hayul had become more important to her than she ever anticipated.
Now, she couldn’t just look away.
If Lee Hayul were to die pointlessly somewhere, it wouldn’t merely be a minor regret like before.
She had already experienced that sinking, hellish feeling of falling into an abyss.
And so, she sought out Venus. She couldn’t reach the president, but the vice president was accessible enough.
She couldn’t ask Lee Hayul directly.
A few days ago, she had witnessed him cough up blood and collapse while trying to disclose his secrets.
As a result, Atra wasn’t in the best state herself.
Unable to question Hayul directly, she had come to ask Venus—someone who had brought Hayul in under the special admission system.
But so far, no answers had been forthcoming.
“Is this a difficult question for you to answer?”
Venus remained silent, merely observing Atra as though weighing her options.
The prolonged quiet sharpened Atra’s gaze, her unspoken intent swelling the room with invisible pressure.
Though rude and forceful, Atra had no intention of backing down.
After seeing Lee Hayul’s condition—bound by what could be a curse or restriction—she had to hear at least the bare minimum.
Recognizing Atra’s determination, Venus finally opened her mouth.
“I can give you an answer, but it may not satisfy your questions.”
Atra frowned.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said. I lack the knowledge to fully resolve your doubts. In short, I don’t know much myself.”
Venus shook her head lightly.
“All I’ve done is follow the president’s directives and act accordingly.”
“What have you done?”
“One thing: basic preparations for a special admission candidate, starting long ago.”
This was news to Atra.
To her knowledge, no special admission candidate other than Lee Hayul had ever been brought in, nor had there been any rumors about such plans.
And given Venus’ mention of “long ago,” it couldn’t have been a matter of just a few years.
So preparations for Lee Hayul’s special admission had been underway for a long time...?
Atra crossed her arms and listened closely.
“The other was locating Cadet Lee Hayul’s ‘shell’ earlier this year and granting him the qualification for special admission.”
“...Shell?”
“Exactly that—a shell. To be blunt, the Lee Hayul I encountered at the time was an empty shell.”
Atra’s brow furrowed as she tilted her head.
Shell. It wasn’t a pleasant term, especially not when used to describe a person.
“An empty shell... That’s an unsettling and incomprehensible statement.”
“I can’t elaborate much further. I didn’t fully understand it myself, and there are constraints tied to the president that limit what I can share. To put it simply...”
Venus hesitated briefly, as if deliberating how much to say. Atra waited silently, sensing this was not a mere refusal but a measured decision.
“At the time, Cadet Lee Hayul wasn’t a normal human.”
“For example?”
“He merely stood idly, waiting for instructions. When given an order, he would act mechanically, faltering if unable to execute it, then waiting passively for the next command. He was, in essence, a machine.”
There was no intention to demean. Venus’ assessment of Lee Hayul as a shell was purely objective.
However, the Hayul who later entered Siyoram was a normal human being.
“...From then on, you know the rest.”
Though visibly shaken and unstable, he was someone who could think, judge, and act on his own.
“I don’t know what measures have been taken with Lee Hayul, and even if I did, I couldn’t disclose them further. I ask for your understanding.”
With those final words, Venus closed her mouth.
The sofa supporting Atra’s back was soft, and the faint floral scent in the room was calming.
Yet, Atra’s expression remained stiff as she crossed her legs.
‘...My head hurts.’
The information she had just learned was too bizarre and alien, enough to give her a headache. She rubbed her temples and glanced across the room.
Venus sat opposite her, tending to the flowers in a nearby pot with her usual impassive expression.
Despite her detached demeanor, her hands were meticulous and gentle, as though handling a priceless artifact.
Atra broke the silence.
“I didn’t know horticulture was one of your hobbies.”
“It isn’t, particularly.”
Venus replied while examining the flowers. She glanced at Atra briefly, then softly caressed a branch.
“It’s just something I’ve been forced to take care of because no one else would.”
“For someone forced into it, your touch seems remarkably tender.”
“Care leads to attachment, in its own way. If you have the time, I recommend trying it yourself, Clyde.”
“I’ll consider it, if I find the time.”
Atra shook her head lightly and rose to her feet.
“I’ll take my leave. Your answers... weren’t satisfactory, but I appreciate them nonetheless.”
“Take care.”
As Atra opened the door to leave, Venus added casually, “By the way, this flower is called Agapanthus.”
Atra paused, glancing back.
“Though unfamiliar, it’s a resilient flower, making it suitable for beginners. If you decide to grow flowers, consider starting with it.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
The door closed with a soft click, and the office returned to its serene quiet.
Venus stared at the door for a moment before lowering her gaze to the pot of flowers.
With an absent-minded motion, she caressed the vibrant purple petals of the Agapanthus.