The teacher seemed displeased with my choice, glancing at me during every break after the exam.
While they didn't directly approach me—perhaps feeling awkward about interrupting during the test—I could constantly feel their intense gaze.
That emotion finally exploded during the final practical exam.
"Yoon Ha-min!"
Everyone's attention turned at that voice.
"Yes?"
When I calmly turned my head, the teacher's voice flew at me as if saying this was beyond unacceptable.
"Yoon Ha-min, what do you think you're doing?"
Everyone was startled by the teacher's outburst during the exam, but strangely, no one looked at me oddly. They all seemed to agree that the teacher's anger was justified.
This test was meant to determine how much damage we could inflict on monsters by attacking a training dummy. But I hadn't given it my all.
My ability had been devoured by a Mysterious Person, leaving me unable to properly manifest my power. Yet I hadn't even tried to force out more strength or made any effort at all.
Normally, I would have pierced straight through the dummy's head, causing a chain explosion that would have shattered it completely and secured first place. But now, my light merely touched the head and faded, which was why the teacher was angry.
Everyone was looking at me with confusion.
Perhaps because I had previously been the Top Rank, I didn't receive the same looks that Kanna had, but I couldn't avoid being viewed as strange.
"Teacher, I did my best though?"
"This? How could your ability suddenly decrease this much...?"
I had completely skipped the previous practical class claiming I wasn't feeling well, so the teacher was having trouble accepting this situation.
With an incredulous laugh, the teacher looked at the dummy I had attacked and then back at me. Their expression clearly asked if I was serious, but I could answer calmly.
"I think my ability was consumed when I confronted a Mysterious Person before. It seems they placed some restriction on it rather than completely eliminating it. This really is my best effort."
"...What Mysterious Person?"
I turned my head slightly at that question.
"Any top student here would know. Three Mysterious Persons entered. One had been coming in before and pulled monsters out of something like a small marble. Another fought while regenerating their body. And the third one devoured my ability and fled."
My words caused a stir.
Since I mentioned three Mysterious Persons had entered and one of the two who escaped was responsible, it was difficult to deny. Moreover, some students had witnessed me fighting the Mysterious Person, which gave my words more weight.
It would have been better if this were just a convincing lie, but sadly, it was all true.
"Anyway, I'm not deliberately holding back. I tried to output the same power as before, but I couldn't."
The teacher frowned at my words but, realizing further discussion would be pointless, nodded in resignation.
"...Fine, I'll record it as is."
I quietly turned my head away.
I brushed off the attention focused on me with my gaze and exhaled lightly.
*
Ordinary students go to regular schools.
Those who haven't Awakened can't keep up with those who have, but that doesn't mean they're incompetent—they simply follow educational methods suited to what they can do.
In contrast, the Academy doors are open to anyone who becomes an Awakened Being, whether strong or weak.
However, Awakened Beings emerge with a probability of less than one in ten. That's why the Association and the Academy gathered students eagerly, hoping that even one more would lighten the burden on others.
For example, students like Kanna Aurora.
As the homeroom teacher, there were many things I had to overlook despite what I saw as an educator.
Given the Academy's nature—where anyone with ability could enter just by paying—it was inevitable that the Bottom Rank would be viewed unfavorably.
Not everyone had a noble sense of mission.
Some entered because of the rewards that could substitute for such a mission.
Consequently, someone like Kanna naturally became a thorn in others' eyes.
People wondered if she had entered without proper abilities, just wanting the title of "Hero."
If she planned to spend her life sitting in an office doing paperwork with the title of Hero.
Even as a teacher, I had long turned a blind eye, thinking there might be such students and it wasn't particularly my concern.
But one student refused to look away and raised questions.
He approached to discover the truth, pointing out that our perspective was entirely wrong.
But what difference would that make?
I'm already an adult, a mere teacher who has repeatedly compromised with the world.
No matter how right the student's words seemed, all I knew how to do was mention it once at a faculty meeting.
Even then, it would barely become an agenda item to be sent up to the Association, and I doubted it would go well. So there was nothing I could do about Yoon Ha-min's words.
From the beginning, his choice puzzled me.
If he just kept his distance and worked harder, he could maintain his position as Top Rank and live as an elite with ample opportunity to enter the Association's core and create the world he desired. Why try to overturn everything now?
He seemed to like Kanna Aurora—or perhaps they already liked each other—but there should be limits.
No matter how much he liked her, it was a momentary emotion, and a crack could form that might make him regret this moment.
Watching his immature behavior, it was frustrating to see Yoon Ha-min gambling when he could have taken the most stable path.
His antics might get me in trouble with the Vice Principal or the Association, but what could I do? The spilled water couldn't be gathered again.
I clutched my throbbing head and checked the grade report.
After quickly entering the data and printing out the report, I felt even more depressed.
Even if I refused to accept it and demanded a retest, that would create issues of fairness.
Looking at the Top Rank student who had become Bottom Rank, I felt sick to my stomach.
He would regret it. What was he thinking?
In reality, even if he did this, he would be branded as a foolish human swayed by emotions. His path to the Association's leadership would certainly be blocked, and he wouldn't be able to join any good agency.
I understood that Kanna Aurora was trying hard.
Despite her lack of ability, her efforts to overcome her practical score of zero through written exams were admirable.
But the fact remained that she lacked the ability to defeat monsters, so there would be no support for Kanna.
Yoon Ha-min. He was exceptional and knew it, but he was incredibly naive about the world.
I don't know if I'm just too jaded by society, but his actions seemed merely cute to me.
Acting like this wouldn't earn anyone's approval.
All he was doing was ruining his own future.
As a teacher, I wanted to stop him from throwing everything away for a moment's emotion.
But it was too late now that the exam had passed.
Society would look at him with sharp eyes and pour scorn on him.
Could he withstand that?
No matter how prepared one is, ultimately no one can endure amid countless malicious intentions.
A life that is only denied will lead to hell.
"Seriously."
I sighed in disbelief.
Even after distributing the grade reports, my head continued to throb.
Yoon Ha-min, you're wrong. No, you're not wrong, but you chose the wrong method.
There must have been a better way. There's a reason orthodox approaches exist.
You should have taken your time. No matter how urgent it felt, you should have built allies.
Who would take Yoon Ha-min's side now?
A few students? Without earning the approval of even one teacher, their power would be too weak.
"So, teacher, are you saying you agree with forcibly sacrificing someone who didn't volunteer, and then finding peace?"
...I don't agree.
Of course, the Association might think differently.
Those in high positions might have different thoughts.
They might be determined to prevent other sorrows, even if it means taking on the role of the villain.
They might decide they cannot stand by and watch as hundreds or thousands of innocent victims increase.
But I didn't want peace found by singling out and cutting away someone.
Even as a teacher, someone who guides others, I wasn't sure if I was pointing to the right path.
That's why I hesitated again and again.
Before standing confidently before students and saying this is the right way, I had to repeat thousands of deliberations.
What is right? Even having risen to the position of teacher, I don't know—can students truly trust and follow me?
Well.
I'm not sure, but it seemed my time of contemplation would be long again today.