Episode 106: Final Exams (2)
The explanation of the game structure was finally over.
A mix of tension and excitement flickered across the students’ faces, and some were already whispering as if holding strategy meetings.
But the most critical part was yet to come.
Team assignments.
Blue Team and White Team.
How the two factions—alternating between offense and defense—would be divided would determine the entire exam.
They had to be organized rationally, ensuring balance wasn’t disrupted.
Breaking the brief silence, the chairman stepped forward.
“We’ve chosen the fairest and most perfect method.”
As he spoke, familiar words appeared on the screen.
[Odd Rankings – Blue Team]
[Even Rankings – White Team]
It was simple.
1st, 3rd, 5th… would be Blue Team.
2nd, 4th, 6th… would be White Team.
To maintain balance, Gaon seemed to have proposed the odd-even split.
“The rankings are a result of your own efforts. No one can dispute that.”
The chairman smiled proudly.
Well, he wasn’t wrong.
But there was another problem.
Some students didn’t have ranks yet.
Special admissions students like me, who had no official ranking, or transfer students like Yoon Chae-ha and Joo Seo-jun.
The question was how these exceptions would be placed.
The answer came quickly.
“For students without assigned rankings, internal sorting was conducted based on midterm exams, inter-school match records, and practical evaluations.”
“This, too, was automatically and fairly assigned by Gaon’s proprietary algorithm.”
A reasonable intervention on top of the established rules.
This much was understandable.
And finally, the finalized team compositions were announced.
—Ding.
—Ding.
Dozens of names scrolled past, but I focused only on the most important ones.
[Blue Team – Odd Rankings]
- Rank 1: Kang Arin
- Rank 5: Yu Hana
- Rank 19: Ha Sion
- No Rank: Joo Seo-jun
[White Team – Even Rankings]
- Rank 2: Yohan
- Rank 4: Cheon Yeoul
- No Rank: Yoon Chae-ha
- No Rank: Jung Haein
I was assigned to the same team as Yoon Chae-ha.
Joo Seo-jun was on the opposite side.
Perhaps they’d separated us to avoid recreating the synergy we’d shown during the inter-school match.
Blue Team had Kang Arin, Yu Hana, and Ha Sion—whose combat prowess was nothing to scoff at.
Meanwhile, White Team was a mix of Cheon Yeoul, Yohan, me, and Yoon Chae-ha.
The overall balance?
From my perspective, it looked pretty solid.
Neither team was overwhelmingly stacked, and both could operate around their core strengths.
Blue Team could revolve around Kang Arin or Yu Hana.
White Team could center on Cheon Yeoul, Yohan… or even Yoon Chae-ha.
Either way, there was flexibility.
Not bad at all.
“We’re on the same team.”
Cheon Yeoul, sitting beside me, was the first to speak.
Her lips curled slightly as she pointed at the Gaon map displayed on her watch screen.
Heavenly Martial Hall—the building right at the heart of Gaon’s campus.
“When it starts, come here.”
With a mischievous grin, she added:
“Let’s stick together.”
An invitation to team up.
At that moment, a voice cut in from my right.
“Okay.”
But the reply didn’t come from me.
Yoon Chae-ha answered nonchalantly.
Cheon Yeoul turned her head.
Her finger, which had been tracing the screen, froze.
“…What about you?”
“I’ll come too. We’re on the same team, after all.”
Yoon Chae-ha’s tone was indifferent.
Cheon Yeoul’s eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly.
There was no logical rebuttal—she wasn’t wrong.
After staring at me for a long moment, Cheon Yeoul finally spoke.
“You coming?”
I studied her briefly before shaking my head.
“Not right away.”
The corner of her lips stiffened.
I had something else to take care of first.
This exam was full of hidden mechanics, after all.
One of them was the revival point.
Somewhere on the battlefield, there was a location where—regardless of team—you could spend points to resurrect eliminated players.
But the cost was subjugation.
Body, mind, and even a portion of their points would belong to the reviver.
In every sense, the revived became their loyal subordinate.
Since it was a second chance, they’d have no choice but to obey.
There were other hidden elements scattered across the map too.
Which was why I couldn’t regroup immediately.
“I’ve got something to handle first. Just until the first offense-defense switch.”
I smiled, glancing between the two of them.
“Why don’t you two stick together for now?”
For a split second, both their expressions twisted in unison.
***
After the final exam briefing in the auditorium…
We stepped out into the hallway, walking together.
With about one or two weeks left until the exam—
—Ding.
A notification arrived simultaneously on mine and Yoon Chae-ha’s watches.
[Meeting time~~]
It was a summons from the board game club president in the group chat.
This was unusual—the president, who always said “Attendance is optional, leaving is even more optional,” had personally called a meeting.
Yoon Chae-ha and I headed to the club room immediately.
The problem?
“Why are you following us?”
Cheon Yeoul was tagging along.
“Got nothing better to do.”
“How do you not have—”
I was about to bring up her grades, but—
“Heh.”
Cheon Yeoul let out a soft, amused breath, effortlessly deflecting my gaze.
Come to think of it, she had done well on the last exam.
I wasn’t about to knock someone for performing well.
So I just quietly shut my mouth.
“Fine.”
Technically, the board game club allowed outsiders as long as at least one member was present.
So there was no real reason to stop her.
We opened the club room door and stepped inside.
For once, the chairs were neatly arranged.
We were the last three to arrive.
As the door closed, the club president, who had been organizing something at the front, looked up.
“Oh, you’re finally he—”
Her voice trailed off.
Jo Seo-yeon’s gaze slid past me and Yoon Chae-ha, stopping at Cheon Yeoul.
“Who are you?”
In that moment—
“Hello! Just visiting for a bit.”
Cheon Yeoul flipped her hair gracefully and smiled, as if she hadn’t been mischievous just seconds ago.
Her voice was soft and polite.
All traces of her usual playful attitude were gone—she even dipped her head slightly in perfect etiquette.
“What the—”
Yoon Chae-ha and I shuddered simultaneously.
“Oh, uh, sure! Make yourself at home.”
Jo Seo-yeon looked baffled but didn’t stop her.
The three of us quietly took our seats, and soon after, Jo Seo-yeon stepped forward.
“Alright, everyone. Big announcement today.”
She clapped her hands lightly to settle the room.
“There’s good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
Voices immediately overlapped—“Good news!” “Bad news first!”—chaos erupting from all sides.
Jo Seo-yeon waited, then grinned.
“Good news it is! Lexium—our club—just got a massive sponsorship from Glory Corporation!!!!”
“Woooooah!”
The room erupted.
“Seriously?”
“Glory?!”
“We can finally ditch those ancient games!”
Corporate sponsorships for Gaon clubs weren’t rare.
But for a board game club—not a combat-focused one—this was unprecedented.
Even with Gaon’s generous funding, state-of-the-art magical engineering board games were expensive.
An external sponsor was a godsend.
‘I didn’t remember this happening in the original story, but hey, good for us.’
Jo Seo-yeon flipped her hair proudly.
“Clubroom renovations! Full-dive magical board games! Even the latest simulators—pretty awesome, right?”
“Yeah!”
Cheers and applause broke out.
Even Cheon Yeoul clapped politely, hands neatly folded.
Then Jo Seo-yeon shrugged and continued.
“Now, the bad news.”
She deliberately paused, scanning the room.
“Remember the renovations I just mentioned?”
She raised a hand. A few students sighed, already guessing.
“The clubroom will be closed… for a month~~”
Her raised hand formed a gun, all fingers tucked in except the index.
“Ugh…”
“Well, can’t be helped…”
The mood instantly deflated.
“But at least it’ll reopen after finals, so there’s that?”
Jo Seo-yeon added weakly, as if that helped.
Mentioning finals only made the atmosphere heavier.
“So let’s all survive until then, okay~?”
She formed a heart with her hands, grinning playfully.
No one laughed.