The silence in ASTRA ACADEMY – DUNGEON PRACTICE HALL 3 didn't break all at once.
It cracked.
Like thin ice under too much weight.
"…Seven minutes?"
"Solo?"
"That's faster than the record."
Whispers stacked on whispers until the hall felt louder than before.
Jihan stood near the back wall, hands loosely in his pockets, staring at the massive screen like he wasn't the reason it was malfunctioning.
Because it was malfunctioning.
At least, that's what it looked like.
The ranking board flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then a sharp electronic tone rang through the hall.
[SYSTEM UPDATE – PRACTICE DUNGEON RANKINGS]
Every student's attention snapped upward.
A new panel expanded on the holographic display.
E-17 PRACTICE DUNGEON – CLEAR TIME RANKINGS
1. Kang Jihan – 07:42 – Solo – SSS
2. Team Minjae – —
3. Team Haneul – —
4. Team Soobin – —
There was a long pause.
Not the comfortable kind.
The kind that stretched thin and brittle—like glass about to crack.
"…He's first."
The whisper slipped from someone near the back.
Another voice followed, smaller. "He's the only one who cleared."
The words didn't echo.
They sank.
Across the hall, the massive digital board hummed softly. Fluorescent light flickered over rows of names. At the very top—
Jihan – CLEAR
Beneath it, a thin gold line.
Everyone else—
IN PROGRESS
Park Minjae's molars pressed together hard enough to ache. The veins along his neck stood out.
"No," he said.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't meant for anyone.
"We just started."
On the far wall, another screen shifted.
A thin blue progress bar crawled forward with a quiet electronic ping.
Team Haneul – 38%
Team Minjae – 21%
Minjae's fingers twitched.
Twenty-one.
His team was still inside. Still bleeding stamina. Still fighting through the labyrinth simulation that had already spat one person out victorious.
The F-rank.
The boy who used to get shoved to the back during drills.
The one who couldn't even maintain mana stabilization for thirty seconds last month.
Jihan stood near the exit gate.
Alone.
His uniform wasn't torn.
No burn marks.
No trembling hands.
He wasn't even breathing heavily.
He just stood there, shoulders relaxed, eyes quiet. Like he had stepped out of a classroom instead of a combat trial designed to break first-years.
The heavy steel doors behind him hissed shut with a hydraulic sigh.
Someone swallowed audibly.
Another student looked away first.
Minjae didn't.
His gaze locked on Jihan's back.
Searching.
For a limp. For dried blood. For something.
Anything.
There was nothing.
The sharp click of heels split the air.
One.
Two.
Three.
The instructor stepped forward, every movement measured. The concrete floor amplified each step, turning them into a countdown.
Conversations died mid-breath.
"Quiet."
She didn't raise her voice.
She didn't need to.
The room snapped into stillness.
Her eyes lifted to the ranking board.
Gold at the top.
Blue bars inching below.
Then her gaze moved.
Slowly.
Until it rested on Jihan.
She studied him the way one studies a crack in a foundation.
Searching for the fracture.
Her hands were clasped behind her back. Steady.
But the knuckles were white.
"Performance evaluation," she said, voice even as a flat blade, "will be conducted after all teams return."
Silence pressed in again.
The screen chimed.
Team Haneul – 41%
Inside the testing chamber, something roared—muffled through reinforced walls.
Outside, Jihan didn't flinch.
The instructor's eyes lingered on him a second too long.
Not suspicion.
Not approval.
Something sharper.
Something unsettled.
Across the hall, Park Minjae exhaled slowly through his nose.
Twenty-one percent.
He tore his gaze away from Jihan and back to the screen.
The numbers ticked.
The board glowed.
And for the first time since the trial began—
The F-rank stood alone at the top.
Inside the dungeon, Team Minjae was not having a good time.
The forest wasn't forgiving.
"Left!" Seo Hyunwoo shouted.
A training goblin lunged from the side. Park Minjae reacted instantly, flames igniting around his fist. He drove it forward, burning through the construct's torso.
The goblin shattered into particles.
"Focus!" Minjae snapped. "It's just a practice dungeon."
But it didn't feel like "just" anything.
They'd already used more stamina than expected.
And the boss chamber still hadn't appeared.
Minjae's thoughts flickered unwillingly to the screen outside.
Seven minutes.
That's impossible.
He clenched his fist harder.
Back in the hall, the dungeon gate shimmered again.
A second team stumbled out, breathing heavily.
Their uniforms were scuffed. One girl was leaning on her teammate for support.
Clear Time: 29:13
The ranking board updated automatically.
Their names slid into second place.
Far below Jihan's.
A murmur spread again.
"He did it alone…"
"And faster than a full team."
Jihan scratched his cheek lightly.
Is this really surprising?
A soft chime interrupted his thoughts.
[Hidden Quest Triggered]
His vision darkened slightly as the golden-edged interface appeared.
Hidden Quest: The Academy's Joke
Condition:
– Achieve Rank 1 in any academy evaluation while holding Talent Rank F.
Reward:
– Skill Evolution Token
– +10 Free Stat Points
Failure:
– None
Jihan blinked.
"…That's aggressive."
He glanced up at the board.
Rank 1.
For now.
The system didn't need to explain what would happen if someone beat his time.
It didn't have to.
He sighed quietly.
"So I have to stay first."
Noted.
The dungeon gate flared again.
This time, Park Minjae's team emerged.
They looked less composed than they had going in.
Clear Time: 24:58
Respectable.
Very respectable.
The ranking board shifted.
Minjae's name locked into second place.
Still far below seven minutes.
A ripple moved through the students.
Minjae's eyes lifted slowly to the top of the board.
Kang Jihan – 07:42 – Solo – SSS
His jaw tightened.
He turned.
Their eyes met.
Jihan didn't smile.
Didn't smirk.
He just looked at him calmly.
That irritated Minjae more than mockery ever could.
"You cheated," Minjae said loudly.
The word cut through the hall.
A few students nodded immediately, relieved someone had said it.
"Yes, that makes sense."
"Probably exploited a spawn bug."
"Or found a shortcut."
The instructor's voice sliced through the noise.
"Accusations require proof."
Minjae stiffened. "Then review the footage."
She didn't hesitate.
"Already done."
The massive screen behind them shifted.
Replay footage filled it.
Slow motion.
Every movement Jihan had made inside the dungeon played out in brutal clarity.
The casual dodges.
The effortless counters.
The palm strike that cracked the golem's core in one blow.
No glitches.
No skipped frames.
Just clean combat.
When the replay ended, silence returned.
Minjae's face darkened.
"…That's not F-rank output."
"No," the instructor agreed quietly.
"It isn't."
All eyes turned to Jihan again.
He raised a hand slightly.
"Yes?"
"You will report to the evaluation office after class," the instructor said. "We will reassess your status."
A reassessment.
That word carried weight.
Gasps spread through the hall.
Reevaluations were rare.
Embarrassing.
Sometimes life-changing.
Minjae's eyes flickered with something sharp.
Hope.
If Jihan was re-evaluated and exposed as a fraud—
But Jihan didn't look worried.
Inside, he almost laughed.
Go ahead.
He was curious too.
What would their system say about him now?
Another notification appeared.
[Warning: External Status Analysis Attempt Detected]
Oh?
His eyes shifted slightly.
On the instructor's tablet, faint light pulsed.
She frowned.
"…Strange."
She tapped again.
Nothing changed.
Jihan's visible status window remained the same.
Level 1.
F Rank.
No ability.
Perfectly ordinary.
Her brows furrowed deeper.
The system whispered quietly in his mind.
[Authority Active.]
[Public Interface Locked.]
His lips curved just slightly.
So that was how it worked.
Outside world sees F-rank.
Inside dungeon?
Different story.
Interesting.
The instructor's stylus froze mid-air.
A faint reflection of the ranking board flickered across her glasses.
For half a second, the classroom held its breath.
Then she lowered the tablet.
The soft click of metal against glass sounded louder than it should have.
"…Return to your dormitories. Written evaluations will be submitted tonight."
Chairs scraped.
Whispers bloomed like cracks in ice.
"Wasn't he ranked—"
"How did his mana spike like that—"
"I swear Minjae had it locked…"
Jihan didn't move.
Students filtered past his desk in uneven currents.
Not close enough to brush him.
Not far enough to ignore him.
Eyes slid toward him—quick, sharp glances—then away again.
A girl who had laughed at him last week now adjusted her bag strap twice before walking by, gaze fixed firmly on the floor.
Someone behind him muttered, "He didn't even look tired."
The ranking board shimmered at the front of the room.
First place.
Jihan Ahn.
The letters pulsed softly, blue-white and steady.
Too bright.
Too exposed.
A shadow fell across his desk.
Minjae.
He didn't sit.
Didn't lean.
He just stood there.
Jaw tight.
Knuckles pale where his fingers curled around the strap of his weapon case.
"You won't stay first forever."
The words were quiet.
Measured.
Like something he had repeated to himself before saying it aloud.
Jihan tilted his head slightly.
The fluorescent lights reflected faintly in his eyes.
"Maybe."
A single brow in Minjae's face twitched.
The muscle in his cheek tightened.
"This isn't over."
His footsteps were sharp as he turned away—too sharp.
The door hissed open.
Closed.
Silence settled in layers.
Jihan rose slowly.
The classroom felt smaller now.
Thicker.
He walked toward the front.
Stopped beneath the ranking board.
The glow washed over his face.
His name sat at the top.
Above students who had trained since childhood.
Above heirs of guild families.
Above Minjae.
A few meters behind him, two students pretended to check their tablets while watching him through the screen's reflection.
He could feel it.
The weight.
Not admiration.
Not yet.
Attention.
The system chimed.
Soft.
Intimate.
Like a whisper at the base of his skull.
[Attention Level Increased: 23%]
[Observation from Higher Authority Detected.]
His fingers stilled inside his pockets.
A thin current ran up his spine.
Observation.
The air above him felt… dense.
Not heavy.
Just aware.
His gaze lifted.
Past the ceiling.
Past the reinforced mana barriers layered above ASTRA ACADEMY.
For a fraction of a second—
The lights flickered.
Just once.
The board glitched.
His name distorted.
Then returned.
The sensation vanished.
Like a hand withdrawing before being seen.
Jihan's lips curved faintly.
Not wide.
Not proud.
Just a quiet recognition.
"So it begins."
Outside, the corridor lights cast long reflections across polished floors.
Students stepped aside without being asked.
Not out of respect.
Instinct.
The academy doors parted as he approached.
Cold evening air brushed against his face.
The skyline of the city beyond shimmered beneath a fading orange sky, towers wrapped in protective barrier grids.
Behind him, through the glass walls, the ranking board continued to glow.
Bright.
Steady.
A target painted in light.
High above—
Far beyond the academy's wards—
A chamber of black stone stirred.
A projection screen rippled with static.
His image flickered across it.
A hand—thin, ringed in silver bands—paused mid-motion.
"…Interesting."
The screen dimmed.
ASTRA ACADEMY returned to stillness.
But the water had already been disturbed.
And something deep beneath its surface had opened its eyes.
To Be Continued...