The Academy Geniuses I Raised and Dressed

The day after we returned from the dungeon, as soon as we arrived at school, Meiling, Lumina, and I were summoned to the teachers’ conference room on the first floor of the main building.

Inside were the principal, the vice principal, Allen from dungeon practicum, Class A’s homeroom teacher Kim Sang-sik, and our own Class B homeroom teacher, Jeong Yeongyeong—five teachers in total.

We stood on one side of the table while the teachers sat opposite us.

Meiling wore an expression that screamed what a bother, while Lumina looked nervous, her eyes darting between the teachers.

"There’s no need to be so tense, Lumina Cueva," the principal said.

"Y-Yes, sir! Were you calling me?!" Lumina blurted, snapping to attention so suddenly that our homeroom teacher gave a wry smile.

"I’ve heard from Allen about what happened yesterday. He said Nam Yaein and Chen Meiling managed to escape from the seventh floor of the Spirit Forest on their own."

The principal’s gaze shifted from me to Meiling.

"We checked the footage from Meiling’s drone. To be honest, I was very surprised. When I first heard the report, I didn’t believe it at all. But it was true—especially you, Yein."

"Yes."

"The way you risked yourself against a monster far stronger than you, for the sake of your companion… that kind of courage isn’t something even high-level hunters can easily display. And to not only survive but also escape safely—that’s normally impossible. I’ve never heard of a first-year student making it back alive from the seventh floor of a dungeon."

What’s going on? Why is he praising me so much?

It made me suspicious that the principal might have some ulterior motive.

"But while watching the footage, one question came to mind," he continued, still looking at me.

"Yaein, how did you manage to shake off the Spirit Queen and escape? The drone didn’t capture that part."

"I used my Spike Explosion ability," I replied immediately.

"I created as many explosions as I could to block her vision, and used the smoke bombs I’d brought along. The moment I saw an opening, I used my movement skill to dash for the portal."

"My goodness."

The vice principal’s mouth fell open. Allen and the other teachers looked equally astonished.

"That was a reckless move. You were lucky—if the Spirit Queen had lashed out in rage, it could have ended horribly," the vice principal said.

The principal shook his head.

"It wasn’t just luck. Tell me, which of you, if you found yourself facing the Spirit Queen alone, could instantly think of and execute such an effective countermeasure?"

No one spoke.

"Perhaps fortune played a part, but it was a miracle born from Yaein acting without hesitation and doing everything within his power. Remember that."

Strange.

He was praising me again.

That wasn’t the principal I knew—he was usually stricter, more authoritative, and willing to use any means to achieve his goals.

"And you, Lumina."

"Yes, sir!"

"You entered the deep floors alone to try to rescue your friends, even with only your Stealth ability to rely on."

"Ah, yes, sir."

"That was reckless too—but such a thing is impossible without deep friendship and great courage."

The principal looked over the three of us.

"I believe the courage, composure, and selflessness you displayed are qualities all Guangcheon students should strive for. Therefore, I will be giving you an award."

"A-an award?" Lumina’s eyes went wide.

"Each of you will receive 300 points for the school store, an unlimited weekday pass to go out whenever you wish, and a free pass to enter the dungeon up to the third floor without restrictions."

"Gasp…!"

Lumina let out a noise of pure shock.

An unlimited weekday pass and unrestricted dungeon access—these were rewards you’d normally have to save points for nearly a year to obtain.

The weekday pass was especially important; it allowed you to participate in events that only occurred during weekday outings, making it a must-have in the game.

"And one more thing."

The principal smiled faintly.

"I intend to send the three of you as Gwangcheon’s representatives to the HAUT this autumn—the Hunter Academy United Training program."

"!"

My jaw dropped before I could stop it.

"Academy United Training? What’s that?" Meiling asked with her arms crossed.

"It’s a program where the six hunter-academy schools in Seoul each select their most capable students to receive special training. Each school can send up to four students," the vice principal explained.

"You’ve already surpassed the other first-years. With a little more time, you’ll be able to compete with the second-years," the principal said.

That last comment made me uneasy—it was as if he’d realized our levels were close to second-year standards.

"Of course, you’ll still need to train and learn much more," he added before glancing at Kim Sang-sik and Jeong Yeongyeong.

"I expect you two to make sure these three can participate in the program without issue."

"Yes."

"Understood."

Kim Sang-sik’s reply was neutral, but our homeroom teacher couldn’t hide her smile.

After we left the conference room, Jeong Yeongyeong pulled Lumina and me aside.

"Congratulations on being chosen for HAUT," she said warmly.

"It will be a very special and valuable experience for you."

She was right—HAUT was an exceptional opportunity. You could obtain rare items and materials that couldn’t be gotten through normal means, and hunt in dungeons that gave large amounts of experience.

But the most important part was the sponsors.

Companies and guilds funded HAUT in exchange for scouting promising hunter candidates early. If you did well, you could even choose your own sponsor.

The sponsor determined not just funding but also the side quests you could access, so HAUT was a crucial event.

"B-but… is it really okay for us to go?" Lumina asked quietly.

"Since only four students are chosen, shouldn’t it be second- or third-years instead of us…?"

She had a point. In the original setup, HAUT was an event you could only apply for starting in second year, and even then, only top students were chosen. First-years couldn’t apply at all.

"It used to be that way, but this is the principal’s decision. Don’t worry," the teacher said brightly.

Strange. One anomaly after another.

First, the cross-floor teleport incident in the Spirit Forest.

Now, the HAUT selection coming a full year earlier than it should have in the original scenario.

Looks like I’d better level up a little faster.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t go to HAUT at my current level—but I wouldn’t be able to seize the opportunities I wanted.

Especially not while in Nam Yein’s body.

The next day, Friday evening, just before the weekend, the three of us—Lumina, Meiling, and I—received our awards in front of the entire student body.

The principal explained what had happened and said he hoped all students would follow our example.

On the stage, Lumina held her unlimited passes with a beet-red face and her head bowed, while Meiling stood stiffly, wearing an expression of mild disdain.

I found out why soon after the ceremony ended.

"I’m giving these awards back."

“What!?”

Meiling’s outburst made Lumina yelp in surprise.

The three of us were outside the academy gates, having immediately used our newly received weekday passes.

Not that we’d gone far—barely a hundred meters from the front gate—but it was the only way to talk in peace.

Classmates had swarmed us, begging to be added to our squad, while second- and third-years tried to recruit us into theirs.

Word of us surviving the seventh floor of the Spirit Forest had spread like wildfire.

Of course, we weren’t planning on adding members or joining another squad, so we’d turned them all down.

“All I did was follow behind Nam Yein, then take the return portal on my own. It’s embarrassing to accept an award for that.”

“B-but… it’s an unlimited weekday pass and dungeon free access…”

“Hmph. I don’t need them.”

“No. Keep them.”

She shot me a glare.

“We’re going to keep running dungeons together. It’s better for everyone if all of us have the passes.”

“Mm, mm! Yein’s right,” Lumina chimed in, nodding at Meiling.

“…You’re saying it’s right for me to keep these?”

“This isn’t about right or wrong. I’m saying you having them benefits the squad.”

I met her gaze.

“If you’re unhappy with how you did, then get strong enough to do it your way next time. What you’re holding are tools you’ll need for that. Don’t throw them away.”

“…Tch.”

She clicked her tongue.

“You always have to sound so high and mighty. Fine. I’ll keep them.”

Lumina smiled at her change of heart.

“So we’re going back to the dungeon on Monday, right? Since you’re the one who told me to get stronger, I won’t accept any excuses.”

“Of course. We’ll start again Monday.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Meiling smirked.

After parting ways with them, I headed toward the male dorms.

She’s starting to open up.

The smile she’d shown just now was different from any she’d given before.

I can probably call the first half of Meiling’s sub-scenario complete.

Once the second half started, I’d inevitably see Kai again.

The real question is whether the dungeon footage will work on Kai the way I hope.

“…”

Chen Kai, president of Forward Magic Engineer, sat in his home study, deep in thought.

Floating before him was a holographic video file sent by a Gwangcheon staff member the day before.

It showed his daughter Meiling—alongside the very sight of Nam Yaein, enough to etch a deep scowl into his brow.

[When we reach the boss area, you use your movement skill and head straight for the return portal. Run with everything you’ve got.

 [What about you?!]

[One of us has to distract the boss. Otherwise, we both die.]

The longer he watched, the more his temples throbbed.

What on earth was this boy thinking?

The opponent was the level-70 Spirit Queen—a monster that even professional hunters only challenged with large, elite strike teams.

And yet, Nam Yein had sent Meiling to safety first, then managed to survive himself.

That’s impossible without absolute confidence in your own survival.

Kai immediately dismissed the idea that it was pure selflessness.

In his view, no one acted without some benefit to themselves.

So what had guaranteed Nam Yein’s survival?

Unfortunately, the video ended before showing what he’d done after sending Meiling away. All Kai could do was form hypotheses.

“If… by some chance, Nam Yein falsified his entire level and stats to get into Gwangcheon” he muttered.

“No. Impossible. A seventeen-year-old hunter capable of taking down a level-70 monster solo? Such a person doesn’t exist—not unless they were one of the Seven Pioneers.”

He knew of one Pioneer who’d reached level 90 in their early twenties—but that hunter had vanished after entering a gate, becoming one of the Missing.

“Or… was there another hunter, or even a team, hidden from the footage, protecting him?”

That seemed slightly more plausible—but still far-fetched.

“To even operate on the seventh floor, you need to be at least level 60. And a hunter trainee being guarded by such people? What is he—some hidden heir to the Crystal Group?”

When they’d first met, Kai had already assumed Nam Yein had backing.

But now he had no idea how powerful that backing might be.

And he still didn’t know why such a person would approach his daughter.

In any case, I’ll have to reconsider using force against him.

Kai picked up his phone and called his secretary.

[Yes, President. I’m here.]

“The situation’s changed. Put off finding someone to ‘deal with’ Nam Yein. I’ll explain later.”

From what he’d seen, sending level-50 assassins would accomplish nothing.

Worse, it might provoke retaliation for violating whatever terms had kept them safe so far.

[Understood. What about the investigation into Nam Yein?]

“Keep it going. Just make sure he never catches on.”

[Of course.]

Kai stared at the frozen hologram of Nam Yaein’s calm face as he faced the Spirit Queen.

(End of Chapter)