The corridor to the Evaluation Office was quieter than the rest of ASTRA ACADEMY.
Too quiet.
The polished floor reflected the ceiling lights in sharp white lines. Frosted glass walls separated offices on either side, silhouettes moving faintly behind them. The deeper Jihan walked, the fewer students he saw.
At the end of the corridor stood a pair of matte-black doors.
No nameplate.
Just a small silver plaque.
STATUS REASSESSMENT DIVISION
He stopped in front of it.
For a brief second, the air felt heavier.
Then—
The doors slid open with a soft hiss.
"Enter."
The voice was calm. Female. Controlled.
He stepped inside.
The room was circular. Minimalist. Clean. The kind of space designed to intimidate without trying too hard.
Three instructors sat behind a curved desk of dark glass.
The one from earlier stood at the center.
To her right sat a middle-aged man with sharp cheekbones and steel-gray hair, glasses perched low on his nose. His fingers tapped a tablet in steady rhythm.
To her left, a younger woman leaned back slightly, arms crossed, eyes unreadable.
In the center of the room stood a raised platform, etched with faint glowing lines.
A status analysis array.
Jihan glanced at it.
Then at them.
"You requested a reassessment," he said evenly.
The gray-haired instructor didn't look up. "You cleared E-17 solo in seven minutes."
"Yes."
"At Talent Rank F."
"Yes."
Silence.
The younger woman leaned forward slightly. "That's statistically impossible."
Jihan tilted his head.
"Then I suppose statistics need to adjust."
The gray-haired instructor's tapping paused.
The woman in the center spoke. "Step onto the platform."
He walked forward without hesitation and stood in the middle of the etched circle.
The lines beneath his feet began to glow.
A low hum filled the room.
Blue light rose around him in vertical strands, scanning slowly from feet to head.
The gray-haired instructor's tablet lit up instantly.
Numbers scrolled rapidly across the screen.
His brows knit together.
"…Level 1."
The younger woman frowned. "That's not possible."
"Strength: 7."
"Agility: 6."
"Vitality: 6."
"Intelligence: 8."
"Luck: 5."
The numbers matched exactly what the public status window displayed.
Perfectly average.
Perfectly weak.
The hum intensified.
The light flickered.
The gray-haired instructor adjusted his glasses, eyes narrowing as more data poured in.
"…Energy output readings are inconsistent."
The central instructor stepped closer to the platform. "Define inconsistent."
"Peak output inside dungeon exceeded baseline by over three hundred percent."
Silence.
Jihan kept his expression neutral.
Inside his vision, a quiet notification pulsed.
[External Deep Scan Detected.]
[Authority Override Engaged.]
The glow beneath his feet surged brighter for half a second—
Then stabilized.
The gray-haired instructor's tablet beeped sharply.
"…Scan interference."
The younger woman stood abruptly. "Interference? From what?"
"No external hacking detected." He frowned deeper. "The array itself is reporting stable output."
The central instructor's eyes lifted slowly to Jihan.
"You experienced no anomalies inside the dungeon?"
He met her gaze.
"No."
"Did you consume any enhancement substances?"
"No."
"Have you signed any external contracts?"
"No."
The gray-haired instructor's voice cut in. "Re-run scan at maximum resolution."
The hum deepened.
The light sharpened.
For a brief moment—
The air around Jihan distorted.
Not visibly.
Not enough for normal eyes.
But enough that the system whispered again.
[Administrator Authority Sustained.]
[Public Interface Locked.]
The tablet screen froze.
Then reset.
The gray-haired instructor stared at it.
"…No change."
The younger woman exhaled sharply. "That's absurd."
The central instructor stepped back from the platform.
"Deactivate."
The light faded.
The hum died.
Jihan stepped down casually.
The three instructors exchanged glances.
He could almost see the calculations running behind their eyes.
Suspicion.
Curiosity.
Opportunity.
The gray-haired instructor finally spoke.
"Your combat movements were efficient. Too efficient for your recorded experience."
"I practiced," Jihan replied.
"Alone?" the younger woman asked.
"Yes."
She didn't look convinced.
The central instructor folded her hands neatly.
"We cannot find any falsified data."
She paused.
"But your output does not align with your rank."
Jihan waited.
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"You will undergo monitored evaluation in the next practical exam."
"Understood."
"If irregularities persist, further investigation will follow."
He nodded once.
"That's fine."
The younger woman studied him for a long moment.
"You're very calm."
"Should I not be?"
Her lips twitched faintly.
Interesting.
The gray-haired instructor finally set his tablet down.
"For now, your status remains unchanged."
Level 1.
F Rank.
No ability.
The central instructor gave a short nod.
"You may leave."
Jihan turned without another word and walked toward the exit.
The doors slid open again.
And closed behind him.
Silence lingered in the evaluation room after he left.
The younger woman spoke first.
"He's hiding something."
The gray-haired instructor adjusted his glasses again. "If he is, it's not through conventional methods."
The central instructor's gaze drifted toward the platform.
"Notify the academy director."
"…You suspect external influence?"
"I suspect potential."
She turned toward the large, dark monitor embedded in the wall.
"Open restricted archive."
The monitor flickered to life.
A list of classified records appeared.
At the very bottom, a sealed file glowed faintly.
ANOMALOUS AWAKENINGS – OBSERVATION PROTOCOL
She stared at it for a moment.
Then closed the screen.
"Not yet."
Outside, the corridor felt lighter again.
Students passed by, whispering as he walked.
Word traveled fast inside ASTRA ACADEMY.
He ignored them.
Halfway down the hall, his vision darkened briefly.
[Hidden Quest Progress Updated.]
Current Rank: 1
Threat Level: Rising
He exhaled slowly.
"Threat level?"
Another notification followed.
[Observation from Higher Authority Confirmed.]
For a fraction of a second—
A presence pressed against his awareness.
Not hostile.
Not friendly.
Just watching.
The sensation vanished immediately.
He stopped walking.
His gaze shifted upward.
Through floors.
Through walls.
Toward something far above the academy.
"…So it wasn't just the instructors."
A faint smile appeared.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
His phone vibrated once.
Not loud.
Not urgent.
Just enough to cut through the hum of the corridor.
Jihan stopped mid-step.
Around him, ASTRA ACADEMY pulsed with after-class noise—lockers sliding shut, shoes scuffing polished floors, fragments of gossip snapping like brittle twigs.
"…He cleared it in seven minutes—"
"No way, the boss was ranked C—"
"I'm telling you, the recording glitched—"
The vibration came again.
He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled the phone out slowly, as if drawing a blade.
The academy app glowed against his palm.
Incoming Message – Guild Liaison Office
A few students walking past noticed the header.
Their voices died mid-sentence.
Eyes lingered.
Then quickly looked away.
Jihan's thumb hovered for half a second before tapping it open.
Subject: Preliminary Interest
Sender: HORIZON GUILD – Recruitment Division
> We have reviewed your dungeon performance.
We would like to schedule a private meeting at your earliest convenience.
Compensation and contract terms negotiable.
The fluorescent lights above flickered faintly.
A laugh slipped from his throat.
Low.
Amused.
"A practice dungeon."
A girl two lockers down stiffened at the sound.
He tilted the screen slightly, rereading the message as if it were mildly entertaining rather than life-altering.
HORIZON GUILD.
One of the mid-tier powerhouses.
Not desperate.
Not reckless.
They didn't chase first-years.
Yet here they were.
He locked the phone.
The reflection in the dark screen stared back at him—calm eyes, steady breath, no tremor in his fingers.
Not excitement.
Not fear.
Just calculation.
The phone disappeared into his pocket.
—
Somewhere in the academy network—
A notification flag shifted from Green to Amber.
In a glass office overlooking the central courtyard, an instructor paused mid-scroll.
Brows knit.
"Forty-one percent?"
On a hidden monitoring panel, a thin bar extended a fraction further.
—
[Attention Level Increased: 41%]
—
Jihan resumed walking.
Shoes tapped rhythmically against marble.
Students parted instinctively—not out of respect.
Not yet.
But instinct.
Like birds shifting away from something that didn't quite move like the rest.
Two second-years watched him pass.
"That's him."
"He doesn't look like much."
"Exactly."
Whispers followed him down the corridor like trailing smoke.
At the end of the hall, sunlight spilled through towering glass windows.
Warm.
Ordinary.
He pushed the door open.
The hinges gave a soft metallic sigh.
Outside, the courtyard glittered with mid-afternoon brightness. Leaves trembled lazily in the breeze.
A group of freshmen argued over rankings near the fountain. A drone buzzed overhead, recording promotional footage for the academy's public feed.
Normal.
Painfully normal.
Jihan stepped into the light.
The sun hit his face, forcing his eyes to narrow slightly.
Heat against skin.
Wind brushing past his collar.
He inhaled.
The air tasted clean.
Peaceful.
Almost boring.
Behind him, the academy doors shut with a muted thud.
Above—
The sky stretched endlessly blue.
But for a fraction of a second—
The breeze stilled.
The leaves froze mid-rustle.
The drone overhead wobbled as if caught in invisible turbulence.
High above cloud level—
Something shifted.
Not seen.
Not heard.
But aware.
A ripple in space too subtle for instruments.
Too deliberate for coincidence.
In a place without walls or stars—
A presence turned.
Its gaze did not have eyes.
Its attention did not need sight.
Yet it settled.
On him.
—
Jihan's brow twitched faintly.
Just once.
A prickle at the back of his neck.
He didn't look up immediately.
Instead, he slid his hands into his pockets.
Weight balanced evenly.
Heart steady.
Then—
He raised his eyes toward the sky.
"…Let's see how far this goes."
The wind returned.
Stronger this time.
His uniform jacket fluttered sharply around his legs.
The fountain water rippled outward in concentric waves.
Somewhere deep beneath the academy grounds, dormant mana lines pulsed once—like a heartbeat skipping rhythm.
And the world—
The vast, ancient, indifferent world—
Tilted imperceptibly closer.
Watching.
Waiting.
Jihan took a step forward.
Then another.
Sunlight stretched his shadow long across the stone path.
It didn't waver.
To Be Continued.