HLSEBT - 66

Both of them ordered warm coffee with multiple extra shots to wake themselves up.

Cheon Geon-young, who had no intention of understanding his partner’s coffee preferences, took a sip of the drink she had customized exactly like hers and savored the bitter liquid.

“I think I get why people drink this.”

Yoon Tae-ha nodded with the expression of a mentor watching an unskilled disciple’s epiphany.

“It’s the taste you’re drinking for. Sorry to your body, but staring at that black surface somehow clears my mind…”

Holding the warm paper cup, he nodded in agreement. They had settled in the most secluded corner of the café.

It was a bar-style table right by the railing.

Yoon Tae-ha sat there, her zombie-like face blankly watching the students entering the library below. Cheon Geon-young sat beside her, resting his chin on his hand.

Suddenly, she remembered the day she first saw him. Back then, she had also been looking down from the second floor to the first.

Blue tie. Sharp features. The elevator heading to the same floor.

She glanced at Cheon Geon-young. Just like her, he was wearing the test-period anorak, its logo emblazoned on the chest. The kids rarely used it outside exam periods—it reminded them too much of rice sacks.

But Cheon Geon-young pulled it off perfectly with his broad back and angular shoulders.

Looking at her guide’s face, Yoon Tae-ha shook herself awake and murmured darkly,

“The teachers are constantly drilling into us the feeling that our lives will end if we don’t perform well.”

“As if they’re trying to monitor our stress responses.”

“Even so, it’s not particularly surprising…”

Her gaze fell on the book Cheon Geon-young was holding, curiosity sparking.

“Can I see?”

He handed her the book. She frowned as she flipped through a random page—the handwriting was blindingly perfect.

“Look at this handwriting. He has amazing penmanship.”

“I practiced when I was young.”

“You even practice things like that?”

Yoon Tae-ha clicked her tongue as she stared at the perfectly printed blue letters. It looked like something you could extract and sell immediately.

“The convenience store situation is handled.”

Relaxing into the library’s ambient noise while browsing someone else’s book, she raised her head.

The trembling hand of the convenience store clerk handing over the pen to Cheon Geon-young came to mind.

Yoon Tae-ha held her breath and asked,

“Are you sure?”

Cheon Geon-young pulled out a tiny recorder from his pocket—a model different from the ones they had placed around the school.

“It was in the locker.”

He took out an earphone, plugged one side into his ear, and handed the other to her.

She quickly accepted it and inserted it. When she pressed play, the recording began with a clattering sound, followed by the voices of Park Dae-chul and Goh Myeong-seong.

________________________________________

At that moment, a female student from G-class leaning against the railing began fussing over what she had just witnessed.

The protagonists of the rumors weren’t audible, but it was clear that Kwon Hee-sung and Jeong Seong-ha were whispering something secretly.

“Don’t they look like they have something going on?”

“They both always come to the public library… This is a prime opportunity.”

A male student from T-class chimed in.

Kwon Hee-sung and Jeong Seong-ha were deep in conversation, a thin book between them.

In fact, the book Jeong Seong-ha was holding belonged to a subject espers didn’t study—it was clearly Kwon Hee-sung’s.

“There’s no reason for them to be wearing earphones and sitting so close.”

“Just looking at each other’s faces must be fun.”

The girl from G-class shivered dramatically as she spoke.

“If they’re really dating, Choi Anna will flip. One of our classmates is obsessed with him.”

“Is it just one or two? If we stacked all the girls wanting his number, it’d reach the stratosphere. And the guides are going crazy too…”

The boy sighed enviously.

“He’s insane. How much exercise do you need to build a back like that? Doesn’t even seem to take supplements.”

From day one, Kwon Hee-sung had captured the hearts of the girls, dismantling Woo Joo-han’s seemingly eternal dominance.

An endless debate akin to the puppy vs. cat divide was brewing.

Woo Joo-han, openly prickly but subtly approachable, versus Kwon Hee-sung, polite yet cold and distant—comparisons were inevitable.

While Woo Joo-han preferred sniper rifles, Kwon Hee-sung expertly wielded assault rifles designed for close combat.

Every time Jeong Seong-ha spoke, Kwon Hee-sung’s expression shifted slightly.

He smiled mischievously, as though teasing her. He focused intensely, as if drilling holes into her face. When she tried to leave, he grabbed the opposite side of the textbook to stop her.

Watching them as if engrossed in an intriguing drama, the boy finally spoke.

“They’re facing Kang Jin-ho and Yeo Pil-joon this time.”

“Forget fairness unless they get a new dungeon. These guys deserve the hardest challenge. We’ll stick to the old, worn-out dungeons—they suit us just fine, right?”

“How’s Jeong Seong-ha’s telekinesis? Kang Jin-ho’s flying these days.”

“At first, it was no joke—he nearly collapsed a building. But after returning from H-building, he seems to have calmed down.”

“Is volunteer work effective? I thought everyone who went there came back with a few screws loose.”

“Guess it depends on the person.”

“Will the school atmosphere change if Kang Jin-ho falls from first place?”

“Nope. Who’s number one doesn’t matter.”

The girl replied indifferently.

After finishing their drinks, the two transfer students parted ways. The spectators checked the time and dispersed for their next schedules.

________________________________________

It felt like being inside a giant rubber ball.

This was Yoon Tae-ha’s first impression of the space she entered for the afternoon class.

“What’s with those deadpan faces before the evaluations!”

The instructor shouted. Students wearing protective gear quickly gathered in front of him. These students were telekinetic users from three classes, including G-class.

Son In-chang, known for managing students effectively, stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the crowd.

These students, who usually pranked and disrupted lessons for other teachers, now stood meekly like lambs, waiting for his words.

With bulging biceps, Son In-chang spoke in a tone more military than teacher-like.

“Palm out.”

The students extended their hands automatically. Son In-chang inspected their palms with sharp eyes.

“These brats are slacking off.”

His fiery glare made everyone internally scream “I’m dead.” Only Yoon Tae-ha found amusement in the veins throbbing on Son In-chang’s neck.

“What’s with these weapon-handling hands? Are you joking with me?”

His voice boomed as if coming from his gut.

“What did I say? Finish all paperwork at night.”

“We train in the morning!”

“Do you think these bodies are built for action?”

He held a long, unusually tall rod-like object in his hand. At first glance, it resembled Captain Hook’s hook attached to a metal bar, except the tip was blunt.

“Sitting at desks all day, your muscles have melted away… In your current state, you’d die instantly in a D-rank dungeon. Is that why you’ve studied for over ten years?”

Son In-chang pushed the bellies of students who looked unfit and distant from physical activity.

“Hold steady.”

“Yes!”

“Answering loudly isn’t enough. Just hold.”

He applied force to where abs should be, using the blunt end of the rod. The student clenched their teeth, trying to endure despite the pain evident on their face. Their answer was loud.

“I’ll hold steady!”

“Are you joking? Don’t answer if you can’t hold.”

“Yes!”

“This brat is out.”

Nearby instructors gathered the disqualified students.

“Headbutt.”

Four words were enough to make three students simultaneously bang their heads.

Students loved and hated fracture penetration training for this very reason. It provided practical combat training in advanced facilities ordinary people would never experience.

But it was also the most dangerous subject. Learning was treacherous—only mental fortitude could prevent failure.

As the disqualified students returned drenched in sweat, Son In-chang began explaining today’s lesson.

“Today’s class is weapon handling. Isn’t this what you’ve wanted since the start of the semester?”

A faint joy rippled across the tense faces of the students.

“Happy? Excited?”

Son In-chang knew how to freeze the atmosphere with just a few words. He casually swung a long, black rod that reached his neck when upright.

“If I were you, I’d skip today’s class no matter what.”

Not only Yoon Tae-ha sensed the ominous vibe. A few sharp-eyed students exchanged glances.

“Using weapons means officially utilizing the company’s precious assets.”

Yoon Tae-ha caught herself before pouting and quickly resumed a respectful expression.

“To be honest, imagining you useless brats handling weapons, breaking them, and whining about why yours broke makes me furious…”

Son In-chang walked to the center of the spherical training room. An instructor nearby held a tablet, adjusting something.

“But we have no choice. If we want to use you properly, we need to train you well.”

Finishing his introduction, he waved the rod to signal the students to retreat.

They scrambled toward the oddly curved walls. Yoon Tae-ha naturally blended into the group.

“There are usually two types of weapons for telekinetics.”

Whirrr.

Against the background hum of machinery, Son In-chang spoke.

“First, those enabling orbital deformation and weight adjustment.”

A second instructor handed him a yellow rod similar to the one he held.

Holding two long sticks now, he looked somewhat comical. The students exerted great effort to suppress their laughter.

Ignoring their amusement, Son In-chang picked up only the yellow rod.

“This was my weapon when I was young. Before using it, my limit was 100 kilograms. Afterward, I could lift 300.”

He struck the ground with the rod as if grounding them in reality.

“Many of you struggle even with 30 kilograms.”

The previously eased atmosphere froze again.

Yoon Tae-ha noticed Kang Jin-ho gnawing on his lips. His gaze was fixed on the black rod Son In-chang had placed on the floor.