Go Eun-bi and Bak Sa-gun had always been characters who assisted new players in navigating the game.
Eun-bi brought trendy information, rumors, and ghost stories, subtly guiding the protagonist, Kang Han-byeol, into the flow of the story. Her presence kept players engaged, especially in the early stages.
Meanwhile, Sa-gun helped Han-byeol, who was ignorant of worldly affairs due to years of isolated mountain living, to understand essential game mechanics and settings.
‘Even though I was an expert player in my previous life, my knowledge is still limited.’
I only knew information crucial for progressing through the game—when major events happened, specific occurrences, or detailed aspects like regional history, culture, or unmentioned students’ details were beyond me.
This was exactly why characters like Eun-bi and Sa-gun existed.
Personally, meeting Sa-gun could only be beneficial to me.
‘Besides, Sa-gun is harmless—probably even more so than Eun-bi.’
While Eun-bi was lively and proactive, Sa-gun was calm and passive. Unlike her, he didn’t trigger events or impact the main story directly. Characters like Risa, Min Ah-rin, Nam Yu-ri, or Cha Eun-sol had their unique stories and influences. Sa-gun, however, had none.
He wasn’t connected to any of the bad endings.
‘Though, it’s not like he doesn’t have an ending at all.’
The game wasn’t composed solely of bad endings. Normal endings existed too, though rare.
Among those was one involving Sa-gun, appearing when the player minimally intervened in the story, leading directly to graduation.
Kang Han-byeol: “Sa-gun.”
On graduation day, Han-byeol, looking back with bittersweet nostalgia, dreamed of life as a hunter. He turned to his friend of three years, Sa-gun, who had promised to continue hunting alongside him.
Kang Han-byeol: “We’ll always be friends, right?”
The dialogue ended there. An illustration appeared, showing Sa-gun smiling softly behind his glasses.
Against this backdrop, the ending log gently surfaced:
[After graduation, Kang Han-byeol and Bak Sa-gun fulfilled their dream of becoming hunters, journeying across the world together.]
[Sometimes they fought back-to-back; sometimes disagreements led to fistfights. But afterward, they’d reconcile, laughing over drinks.]
[Over the years, they came to view each other as lifelong companions.]
[They were happy, feeling understood and content.]
[Life was joyful and satisfying.]
[Yet occasionally, emptiness crept in. In those moments, they’d ponder.]
[If they’d chosen differently as students, what lives would they have led?]
[But these thoughts were meaningless.]
[Time could not be reversed.]
[They would continue relying on each other, living together—]
[Until death finally parted them.]
[Then one day, the world ended.]
[— Normal Ending —]
Also known as the Friendship Ending with Bak Sa-gun.
While the abrupt apocalypse might suggest otherwise, it was still officially a normal ending. The game categorized it that way. Besides, unlike a typical bad ending, it didn’t detail how exactly the world ended or how Han-byeol died.
From a player’s perspective, this qualified as normal enough.
Either way—
‘There’s another advantage to becoming vice-representative—I have more opportunities to get closer to Sa-gun.’
The more connections I had, the better.
Satisfied inwardly, I released Sa-gun’s hand after shaking it.
At that moment, Risa quietly interjected, “By the way, Gyeon-woo, who’s standing next to you?”
“Ah, right.”
Besides me, Risa, and Sa-gun, there was one more person present—Min Ah-rin, now in my class. It was necessary to introduce her formally, though—
‘Wait, does Risa already know her vaguely?’
Indeed, Risa and Ah-rin had previously cooperated during the entrance exam, fighting against Lee Ga-hyeon’s duplicate. The situation then was so urgent that they hadn’t even exchanged proper introductions.
Noticing that, I decided to formally introduce them. Risa seemed eager as well.
“She’s Min Ah-rin, our class representative this time. Ah-rin, these two are—”
“Could you stop acting like we’re close all of a sudden? I’m Min Ah-rin from the Mado Min family. Pleased to meet you.”
Apparently unhappy about being sidelined, Ah-rin introduced herself bluntly.
Her personality really was…
Yet Risa didn’t mind at all.
“I’m Risa Grace. We’ve met briefly during the exam, right? Thank you again for that time.”
“…Grace? Wait, are you perhaps…?”
In stark contrast to Ah-rin’s brashness, Risa gracefully introduced herself. Ah-rin, who’d been arrogantly folding her arms, suddenly turned toward Risa in surprise upon hearing the surname “Grace.”
Ah-rin was about to cautiously inquire further, but Risa merely smiled without confirming.
“Please call me comfortably—we’re the same age and fellow students after all.”
“Ah…”
Though Risa didn’t explicitly confirm it, her words were enough.
Realizing the situation, Ah-rin panicked slightly, unsure of what to do.
“Risa is royalty,” I clarified directly, causing Ah-rin’s face to twist further.
However, Ah-rin was still Ah-rin.
“P-Princess? Right, got it. I mean, it’s fine. We’re not in the Empire, and we’re classmates, so I’ll just speak comfortably. That’s okay, right?”
“Yes, that’s more comfortable for me too. Let’s get along.”
“Y-yeah, let’s.”
Ah-rin never acknowledged her mistakes openly. Even now, though fully aware of her rudeness, she pretended calm despite her trembling voice.
Then she leaned closer, whispering angrily in my ear, blaming me instead.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? If you’d said something beforehand, I wouldn’t have been rude. Are you going to take responsibility if she says something about our family?”
“Stop whispering in my ear as if we’re close.”
“…Ugh…”
“And why should I take responsibility? Who told you to judge people carelessly?”
“…You…”
Though appearing sharp, Ah-rin was unexpectedly bad at arguments, especially when confronted with her faults. Raised as the darling of the Mado Min family, she’d rarely experienced criticism.
“Don’t worry too much, hitting your pillow or something. Risa isn’t someone like that. Treat her naturally, but don’t underestimate her either.”
“P-pillow? How do you know that—?”
How would I know?
It appeared in the game, naturally. When Ah-rin regretted saying harsh things unintentionally or felt anxious, she’d beat her pillow furiously.
Min Ah-rin: “Why did I say that…”
Then she’d bury her face into her blankets, sighing deeply.
Recalling her flustered self, I chuckled inwardly but didn’t say anything more to her about it.
Next, I turned to Sa-gun.
“You already heard his name earlier, right? It’s a bit awkward since I only met him today—”
“I know. Bak Sa-gun, right? I’m Min Ah-rin from the Mado family. Hello.”
“I’m Bak Sa-gun. Nice to meet you.”
Ah-rin gave a curt greeting as though nothing had happened.
Sa-gun, unfazed, accepted calmly, probably having anticipated her reaction based on information he’d gathered beforehand.
“What were you guys doing here anyway?”
“We’re waiting for the instructors. As class representative, I needed some instructions. They both stepped out briefly.”
“Even the assistant instructor?”
“Yes.”
My eyes wandered to the desk in front of Risa.
The nameplate of our main instructor caught my eye:
Sword of Punishment, Suho-guk.
Fortunately, he became Han-byeol’s homeroom instructor, just as in the game.
‘That’s a relief.’
Though I hadn’t seen Suho-guk yet, we’d inevitably meet soon enough within the academy.
“Well, I hope your instructors return soon. We’ll head out now.”
“Alright. See you at dinner.”
We couldn’t chat endlessly inside the faculty room, conscious of other instructors.
After exchanging brief goodbyes, Ah-rin and I left together.
Walking along the corridor outside the faculty office, Ah-rin accompanied Do Gyeon-woo.
“Ah-rin.”
“I told you not to call me so casually.”
“We’ll be working together a lot, so why not?”
“Fine… what?”
“Which dormitory are you staying in?”
“Jade Dormitory.”
“Really? I’m there too. We can head back together.”
“…”
She immediately regretted responding.
Now she had no choice but to return with Gyeon-woo. Wanting solitude, she’d hoped to silently contemplate while heading back alone.
Most importantly—
‘He’s that person’s friend, after all.’
The disciple of the Seven-Colored Witch, Yeon Ha-neul.
Do Gyeon-woo was her childhood friend.
For Min Ah-rin, who had once tasted defeat at Ha-neul’s hands, Gyeon-woo’s connection to her felt uncomfortable. Simply knowing he was friends with Ha-neul drastically diminished Ah-rin’s regard for him.
Yet, when she considered making an excuse to head back to the dorm alone, a defiant thought surged within her:
‘Hold on. Why should I be the one to run away? Me, Min Ah-rin?’
Though she couldn’t exactly say what she was losing to, backing down felt like defeat. Her pride wouldn’t permit it.
So Ah-rin grudgingly decided to endure the awkwardness and walk with Gyeon-woo back to the dorm.
Unaware of her inner turmoil, he persistently chattered beside her.
“Hey, Ah-rin.”
“I said not to call me so casually.”
“Ah-rin.”
“At least use my surname!”
“Min Ah-rin, Ah-rin.”
“What now?!”
At this point, Ah-rin suspected he was deliberately teasing her. She found his incessant repetition of her first name irritating.
“I was just bored.”
“…”
Yes, definitely teasing her.
Frustration bubbled inside her. Her pride wounded, Ah-rin briefly contemplated throwing a spell at him. But attacking a member of the renowned Shingeom Do family without justification would only bring ridicule upon her.
After all, “calling her casually” wasn’t exactly a convincing reason to attack someone.
Given the mockery she’d already endured due to her poor entrance-exam results, she couldn’t afford further embarrassment.
‘Fine. Do whatever you want.’
Suppressing her annoyance, Ah-rin decided ignoring him was best. Names weren’t important anyway. She gradually allowed him the intimacy of calling her informally.
“Ah-rin.”
“Yes, fine.”
Yet, unconscious reactions proved strong. Each casual address from Gyeon-woo slowly lowered her guard. Thanks to his stubborn, teasing persistence, he quietly became somewhat more tolerable in her eyes.
Just then, voices echoed from down the hallway.
“Ah! Gyeon-woo!”
“Gyeon-woo!”
Two girls hurried toward them, calling his name. Ah-rin recognized one immediately.
White-blue hair and unmistakable rabbit ears—
The Seven-Colored Witch’s disciple, Yeon Ha-neul.
The same girl who had given Ah-rin her very first defeat during the entrance exam.
Frozen, Ah-rin halted in her tracks.
Meanwhile, Gyeon-woo excitedly moved forward to greet the newcomers. Ha-neul also eagerly closed the distance, overtaking the brunette girl beside her.
“Gyeon-woo!”
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“No, I just…”
Ha-neul practically threw herself into his arms. Gyeon-woo gently rested his hands on her shoulders, puzzled by her sudden behavior. Ha-neul shook her head quietly, nestling closer.
The brunette soon caught up, grinning playfully.
“Seems Ha-neul missed you a lot. Right, Ha-neul?”
“Mmhmm…”
“Is that true?”
The cheerful girl laughed. Embarrassed, Ha-neul abruptly stepped away, nodding bashfully.
Gyeon-woo tilted his head curiously.
“What brings you two here anyway? Did you also—?”
“Ha-neul and I became class representatives. We’re here for instructions. Wait, if you’re here, then did you also…?”
“I became vice representative. Surprising, right?”
“Really? You, Gyeon-woo? Seriously?”
“Yes, really, seriously. You seem overly happy about it.”
Ha-neul visibly brightened. The three quickly dissolved into lively chatter.
Standing slightly apart, Ah-rin quietly observed, feeling oddly unsettled.
She couldn’t reconcile this sweet, affectionate girl with the one who had ruthlessly wielded a hammer, forcing Ah-rin’s humiliating defeat. Memories of that terror and shock remained vividly etched.
Yet here Ha-neul stood, affectionately clinging to Gyeon-woo—completely at odds with Ah-rin’s image of her.
The situation escalated further:
“Gyeon-woo?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry… I just—”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“My tail… Want to touch it?”
“What? Here?”
“No… Please touch it. Help me forget everything.”
“…”
While speaking to the brunette, Ha-neul tugged Gyeon-woo’s sleeve gently, whispering quietly. Slightly startled, he discreetly reached out his hand.
Out of the other girl’s sight, he placed his hand gently on Ha-neul’s tail.
“Mmh…”
Ah-rin’s golden eyes widened dramatically.
“Yes… that’s it…”
“It really does feel different…”
“Ahh… I’ve grown used to your hand… others don’t feel right…”
Ha-neul melted into a blissful expression, leaning closer against Gyeon-woo.
“What are they even doing…?”
Ah-rin stared blankly, speechless at the spectacle. She had no idea how to process what she was witnessing. Disbelief mixed with awkwardness filled her.
Suddenly, Gyeon-woo pulled out a candy.
“Oh, right. Ha-neul.”
“Hm…? Whaat?”
“Want candy? It tastes like scorched rice.”
“Candy? Where did you get it?”
“I tried one and surprisingly liked it, so I thought of you. The Assistant Instructor gave it to me.”
“Really? Thank you! Mm!”
“Hey! Not fair! What about mine, Gyeon-woo?”
“Sorry, next time.”
“You always favor Ha-neul…”
Watching Gyeon-woo feed Ha-neul candy, Ah-rin’s expression darkened.
‘But that’s the candy I gave him…’
Though she had willingly given it away, seeing Ha-neul enjoying it now left her strangely bitter, as though something rightfully hers had been stolen.
She felt displeased.
Yet her eyes suddenly glinted mischievously, inspired by an idea.
“Oh… I see now.”
Clearly, something special existed between those two.
Ah-rin noticed Ha-neul’s lingering gaze on Gyeon-woo, so different from the cold, frightening girl who had mercilessly defeated her on the island that night.
“Yes… Indeed.”
Perhaps there was a chance for a bit of revenge.
With a sly grin, Ah-rin strode boldly toward Gyeon-woo.
“Hey, Gyeon-woo!”
“Oh, Ah-rin? Right, let me introduce you—”
“You wanted us to head back together, didn’t you? Let’s hurry. We have a lot to discuss.”
“Wait, just let me—”
“You can talk later.”
Firmly grasping his arm, she pulled him away. Gyeon-woo, surprised by her sudden boldness, stumbled along.
Frankly, Ah-rin herself was startled by her actions, but she hid her embarrassment behind a composed expression.
Glancing back at the stunned Ha-neul and the confused brunette girl, she smiled sweetly.
“Sorry about this. We representatives have important things to discuss. I’ll borrow him for now. Bye!”
Ah-rin deliberately tightened her hold on his arm, pressing it close to her chest. Flashing a victorious smile at Ha-neul, she led Gyeon-woo briskly down the corridor.
Yeon Ha-neul—
Frozen where she stood, silently watched them disappear around the corner. Her expression darkened sharply, shadowed by something unsettling.
“H-Ha-neul…?”
“…”
“Are you okay?”
“…”
Standing awkwardly beside her, Go Eun-bi hesitated nervously. She cautiously called Ha-neul’s name several times, but received no answer.
The silence stretched, becoming increasingly uncomfortable.
Finally, Ha-neul spoke, her voice cold and frighteningly calm:
“Who was that girl?”
“Ahaha… I wonder…”
“Give me my Device.”
“Wait! Calm down, Ha-neul!”
A deadly chill permeated the air. Ha-neul’s eyes flashed crimson, sending Eun-bi frantically scrambling to calm her down.
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