“Oh, found it.”
[105]
The academy classroom was more ordinary than I’d expected.
I hadn’t had high hopes, since I’d seen it plenty in the ga already, but still—so part of had been expecting one of those lecture halls you’d see in fantasy flicks or Arican dramas.
Still, it had nearly double the number of students compared to a normal classroom, and the size was almost four tis as big. So, it was massive.
I spotted an empty seat within my field of view and sat there.
By the way, when I say “empty seat,” it’s not so clichéd “back row” spot that the protagonist always picks in novels or ani.
Anyone who’s been through school probably knows—most students avoid sitting in the front.
Even before the teacher asks sothing like “What’s today’s date?”, there’s already a high chance soone in front will get hit with, “You, up front—read it out loud.”
In other words, if you’re in the back, you’ve got more ti to whisper or chat secretly with others.
Maybe that’s why protagonists always sit in the back.
I an, if you sit in the front, when are you supposed to flirt with the heroines, huh?
Well, whatever the reason, the truth is I was sitting in the very front, right where the professor could see best.
Crunch.
I popped another chocolate into my mouth and let the scent of cocoa fill the air.
“Mmh...”
Thing is, this stuff’s too good, I end up eating it too fast.
I’d cramd every last drop of the booze I had left into these chocolates, so I’d probably start getting drunk faster the more I ate... I wasn’t sure I’d last the rest of the day.
As I was thinking that, soone who looked like a professor entered the room.
The classroom went dead silent in an instant. At this age, you'd expect at least a couple of students to keep chatting, but no one did.
Then again, thinking about it, these kids might be students by age, but they were all considered geniuses back in their own houses.
They knew what it had taken to get here, so there was no way they wouldn’t focus on every single class.
In contrast, I was...
‘Pure luck.’
No particular plan, no strong ambition.
I an, if it hadn’t been for that damn curse on my body, I wouldn’t even have considered going to the academy where the main story kicks off.
It’s the kind of place where, if sothing happens, it’s always a disaster—demons descending, the apocalypse spawning outta nowhere... why the hell would I go there?
Though in [Dreaming World], the academy doesn’t trigger events quite that straightforwardly. Still, depending on the difficulty setting the player chose, crazy stuff does happen around them.
‘What difficulty did I set again?’
Problem was—I couldn’t rember.
‘Eh, it’ll work out.’
No point worrying about it now. I gave up and started focusing on the professor in front.
I’d zoned out and missed his na, but the professor was explaining what we’d be doing today.
“So of you may have already chosen your aptitudes, specialties, or weapons, or had them assigned from above. But there may be so who haven’t. So today, we’ll be conducting an aptitude test.”
“How is the aptitude test conducted?”
“Regular schools use so kinda paper or whatever, but we’re not like that, are we?”
Then a large device was wheeled in.
The assistant—or wait, maybe a grad student?—who dragged it in looked completely dead inside, like they hadn’t slept in days.
‘You could at least help him, y’know.’
“Good work. Go wait outside.”
“......”
The guy had this look, like a puppy waiting to hear, ‘You can go ho and rest now.’ But as soon as the professor dismissed him, his dark circles sohow got worse, and he slumped out through the door.
That back view... looked seriously pitiful.
But the professor, acting like this was routine, proudly placed her hand on the machine and said,
“This device will assist you in your aptitude test. Of course, I’ll also be helping directly—not just the machine.”
“If soone doesn’t want to take it, can they opt out?”
“I don’t mind, but you should probably do it. You can only take the aptitude test once a year. Not saying you have to change your aptitude either.”
“So then...”
“There are guys who choose to use their bodies even if they’ve got magic or mystic aptitude, and vice versa. I’ve seen people go by what their family tells them, too. It’s your choice.”
If I rembered right, this is the branch point in the ga where the player gets to choose from a bunch of options.
[Magic], [Physical], [Mystic], [Healing], [Transformation], [Research], and... [Incompetence].
I think this professor especially liked it whenever a [Research] student popped up.
She’d said sothing like a new slave—no, student—had appeared that caught her interest.
“All right, form a line and co in one at a ti.”
So the students lined up.
I waited until the line died down a bit before queuing up, but that just made dead last.
Even then, from up ahead, I could still hear the professor gasping in delight whenever a [Research] aptitude appeared.
Then I entered the machine.
It felt like I was a lab rat trapped in glass, or maybe a zoo animal being stared at by humans.
Vrrrrrrrrrr—!!
“Ughk...”
That weird sensation sweeping over my body... it was worse than I’d expected.
It felt like the thing wasn’t going to miss a single piece of my data.
If I had to pick, I hoped for sothing like [Magic] or [Mystic].
Ever since I was a kid, I’d dread of waking up late and just teleporting to school.
Then, about two minutes later, my aptitude ca out.
And it was...
[Incompetence].
“Eh.”
“Uh... that... that can’t be right?”
The professor looked flustered, and though I stayed still, I was honestly just as thrown.
I an, I’ve got the [Drunken Fist] trait, right? So logically, I should’ve ended up in the physical category or sothing, shouldn’t I?
Sweat started trickling down my back from the stares I felt behind .
“Hmm... well, let’s try again, shall we?”
“Ah, yes.”
Even after redoing the test, my aptitude still ca out as [Incompetence].
“...Weird. Based on what I saw back then, you should’ve at least been in the physical category.”
And I could hear the professor muttering under her breath—she was clearly thinking the sa thing I was.
“Well, I’ll check the machine later... For now, just head back to your seat.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I never thought I’d actually be in one of those scenes I’d only read about in novels, but now that it’s happened, I get it.
Holy hell, this is so fucking embarrassing.
Even I, soone who doesn’t give a damn about people, was so aware of the stares that I ripped open three chocolates at once, shoved them in my mouth, and chewed like hell.
“Pffuaah~”
Only then did the intoxication start to buzz harder in my veins and blur the glares away.
“All right, with the aptitude tests finished, let’s move on to weapon selection. Even if you already have your own weapon, you still need to co along. There are regulations about what’s allowed in official duels and tournants.”
“Oh.”
Weapons, huh? This was gonna take so thought.
Following the professor, we headed into the armory.
It was enormous, and the layout was pristine. Weapons were arranged on towering racks.
From the so-called king of all weapons, the sword, to sabers, spears, staves—even bows and arrows. There were even guns, just like I’d seen before.
And of course, staffs for those who received magic or mystic aptitude.
Logically speaking, guns would be the best pick.
I an, I’ve read those ridiculous novels where so ancient martial god still gets shot dead by a bullet.
But thinking like that here would be a mistake.
The fact that people in this world still use swords and bows, even though guns exist, ans there are that many monsters who can deal with bullets like it’s nothing.
There are guys here who won’t even get a scratch from a direct hit by an anti-materiel sniper rifle, and so who have such insane regeneration that a bullet hole is just a temporary inconvenience.
So for lots of reasons, even with guns around, many still choose so-called ancient weapons.
Though yeah, so guns are in a different league.
Those tend to be absurdly powerful while still simple enough for beginners to use—which ans they cost a damn fortune.
Way out of my league, considering I make booze-filled chocolates by hand.
And also...
“Ngghh...!!!”
Swords and spears were way heavier than I expected.
I could lift them, sure, but wielding one like a proper weapon?
‘Yeah, no thanks.’
I’d be better off spinning like a damn top, fighting like so over-the-top warlord from a ga.
Even then, I’d barely reach the level of a blunt instrunt.
To give it one last shot, I popped another chocolate despite my queasy stomach and tried lifting again.
Crunch.
“Uughh...”
[Current Intoxication: 3%]
[Physical ability has increased slightly.]
My head was spinning, but the weapon did swing a little easier this ti. Still, no way I could use a sword like this.
‘If I try swinging while drunk, I’ll probably ss up and end up flinging it right back at myself.’
I gave up quickly and narrowed it down to two options:
1. Gloves.
They looked similar to knuckles, but they were apparently designed to reduce the shock impact both ways—for and the target.
They didn’t have any ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) spikes or anything, but I was confident that one solid punch would knock soone clean out.
Problem is, blocking or attacking with your bare hands is way riskier than using sothing with reach.
2. Gun.
Even if there are people here who can handle or dodge bullets, it’s still a weapon.
Its power doesn’t drop that much in this world.
Compared to military-grade guns, these had less recoil, and yeah, the power felt a bit lacking as a tradeoff—but they still weren’t useless.
“Has everyone chosen their weapon?”
While I was still debating, everyone else had already picked theirs.
So rich kids—or ones whose parents gave them gear directly—had shiny, high-grade equipnt.
I kinda wanted to see that classic scene where the protagonist’s party picks their weapons... but sadly, they were in a different class, so I didn’t get to witness it.
“Student. Are you not choosing one? You can always swap it out later if it doesn’t suit you.”
Yeah, I know that. But your first weapon always feels like a big deal, y’know?
After much, much thought, I finally made my choice.
“I’ll go with this one.”
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