In the classroom, Shin Haeryeong was always of the mindset that she should be doing something productive.

Whether it was reading a book or organizing her notes from class, every spare moment was precious study time for her.

However, studying in the classroom wasn’t as effective as she hoped.

The reason was simple.

There were just too many distractions here.

During breaks, students gathered in groups, chatting away, and the noise was too much for her earbuds to block out.

Not that she minded, really.

Break time was meant for taking a break, after all.

Haeryeong understood that it would be unreasonable to expect other students to be quiet during their free time.

‘….’

Yet, despite her understanding, the constant noise from beside her was starting to grate on her nerves.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

The irritating sound of slippers that didn’t fit properly was not something she could easily ignore, even during break time.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

Haeryeong’s patience finally snapped after hearing the tapping sound for what felt like the eightieth time.

Thud.

The sound of a book closing cut through the tapping.

“Liz. You’re being distracting.”

“Oh, sorry!”

Liz plopped down in the seat next to Haeryeong.

The tapping stopped, but now a new sound began.

The desk started to vibrate with a rapid tempo as Liz began shaking her leg.

“…Still distracting.”

“Ugh….”

Liz jumped up from her seat, looking uncharacteristically anxious.

“Aren’t you nervous, Haeryeong?!”

“Why would I be?”

“Because… the results of the preliminaries come out today!”

Haeryeong knew exactly what Liz was talking about.

The preliminary results for the National Quiz Competition.

Their club, which investigated the correlation between elemental magic and microeconomics, had submitted their answers online and was waiting for the results.

‘What’s there to be nervous about?’

Haeryeong couldn’t understand Liz’s anxiety.

It was just the preliminaries, and she was confident they’d pass since she had solved the questions herself.

Plus, Bae Jaeho had even pointed out any parts she might have missed, so there was no way they’d fail.

“But still!”

“Stop fussing and sit down. By the way, when are the results supposed to be out?”

“The results? At ten today. Oh! It’s ten, Haeryeong, it’s ten!”

Liz’s excitement took a new direction.

She hastily pulled out her smartphone and slammed it onto Haeryeong’s desk.

“Let’s check together!”

“I don’t really need to see it.”

“Let’s see….”

‘Ignoring me, huh.’

Haeryeong actually understood why Liz was so worked up.

For the past two weeks, Liz had been diligently reading an absurd amount of books recommended by Lee Jaesang.

It was only natural for Liz to be anxious about the results of her hard work.

Her face was flushed with a mix of worry and anticipation.

The emotions accompanying her expression were clearly those of expectation, not fear of failure.

“Is it here?”

Liz, navigating her phone with ease, soon found the page for the announcement of successful candidates.

The list was organized in an Excel sheet.

Since their club was the only one from Shinhwa High School that had entered the preliminaries, all they needed to find was the name of their school.

“Why are you so tense? If we fail, we fail.”

“But I worked really hard! And besides….”

Liz recalled what Lee Jaesang had said about preparing more and trying again if they didn’t make it this time.

In truth, Lee Jaesang’s intention was more along the lines of ‘It’s okay if we don’t make it, let’s just do our best.’

But to Liz, it sounded completely different.

‘If we fail, I’ll have to read those books again!’

The thought of spending five hours a day reading was a nightmare.

She even considered that returning to the celestial realm might be better than going through that again.

…On second thought, reading was better than going back to the celestial realm.

“Is it… not here?”

Her voice trembled with the anticipation of her efforts and the fear of having to study again.

“Here it is.”

Haeryeong found the result faster.

Her fingertip pointed to the spot.

There it was, the name of Shinhwa High School.

They had passed.

“We passed! Haeryeong, we passed!”

“Yeah. That’s great.”

“Wow! I did it!”

“Good for you. Now, could you move over? I’d like to read a bit more, even if it’s just for two minutes.”

“Oh, right. Sorry!”

“Oh, Liz.”

Just as Liz was about to return to her seat, Haeryeong called her back.

She hesitated, wondering if she should tell the truth to Liz’s joyful face, but she figured Liz would find out eventually.

Haeryeong firmly believed in the saying that it’s better to get bad news over with.

“Since we passed the preliminaries, you should read more books.”

“Huh? Books? Why?”

“Well… the final round questions are harder.”

“…What?”

Liz froze in shock at the unexpected news.

“…Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

“Oh….”

Liz’s mind flashed back to the books.

‘The finals have harder questions.’ > ‘The teacher will definitely pile on more books!’

…Such logic completed itself in her mind.

“Can I just withdraw now?”

“Nope.”

“Ugh….”

Liz’s face fell into a pout.

***

Ahn Dohyun was smiling as he looked at the list of successful candidates.

He had expected Lee Jaesang’s students to pass, but there was always that nagging worry of ‘what if.’

If, by some chance, Shinhwa High hadn’t made it, he would have considered manipulating the results….

‘No, what am I thinking?’

Ahn Dohyun slapped his cheek hard.

He was thinking like a corrupt executive.

‘Get a grip.’

Lee Jaesang was indeed a remarkable person.

Ahn Dohyun admired both his talent and character.

He was even good-looking, making him perfect for television.

But more than anything, Ahn Dohyun had high hopes for Lee Jaesang and his students.

Perhaps they could defeat the candidate the executive was trying to push through with bribes.

If another school won despite the difficult questions, the executive wouldn’t have any excuses.

Such expectations filled Ahn PD’s mind.

‘His expression will be priceless.’

He was curious about the look on the bald executive’s face when things didn’t go his way.

Maybe he’d be so angry he’d throw his wig.

The backlash would surely be directed at him, but so what?

If he could uphold the program’s integrity and stick it to the executive, he could handle a bit of backlash.

‘So why is he calling me now?’

He spat out the gum he’d been chewing into a piece of paper and found himself in front of the executive’s office.

Every time he entered, it felt like his heart was being trapped in a net, so it always took him a moment to touch the door.

A knock and a rude voice telling him to come in.

Ahn Dohyun opened the door.

As expected, cigarette smoke greeted him.

This place was supposed to be non-smoking.

Then again, no one in this building could stand up to that man.

“Have a seat.”

With a cigarette dangling from his lips, the executive gestured for Ahn Dohyun to sit.

“Are the questions all prepared?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t have much time, so you must’ve worked hard.”

‘What’s this? Is he about to die?’

Ahn Dohyun didn’t appreciate the rare compliment from the stingy man.

They say people act out of character when they’re about to die.

Was that it?

“Then you have the file with the questions, right?”

“…The file?”

Suddenly, cigarette smoke wafted into his nose.

The stench was a bonus.

“Yeah, the file, man. Let me have a look.”

“Why would you….”

“Hey. Do I have to report everything to you? I just want to see if the questions are good.”

Lies.

Those greedy eyes had no ability to assess the quality of questions.

He was definitely planning to leak them.

For the sake of the executive’s favored candidate.

“The questions are good. I guarantee it.”

“What?”

“So there’s no need for you to see them.”

“Oh. I see. I don’t need to see them.”

Inhale. Exhale.

The executive, who had filled his lungs with smoke, placed a hand on Ahn Dohyun’s shoulder.

Tap, tap.

He patted his shoulder in an unpleasant manner.

“Hey, Ahn Dohyun. Are you out of your mind?”

The hand on his shoulder tightened.

Pain slowly spread.

Feeling crushed, Ahn Dohyun frowned.

“When I ask for something, you give it to me.”

“But.”

“You think I can’t do anything without you? Don’t kid yourself. There are plenty of people who can take your place.”

It was a direct threat.

Of course, Ahn Dohyun wasn’t afraid of losing his job.

What he feared was not his own downfall.

He feared the program being ruined and others getting hurt because of his principles.

And the executive always exploited this vulnerability.

“There are plenty of batteries to replace the people under you, too.”

When it came to this, Ahn Dohyun couldn’t argue.

He couldn’t gamble with the livelihoods of those who depended on him.

In the end, he had no choice but to comply.

This time, and the next.

“I’ll send it by email.”

“Ugh. If you send it by email, there’s a record. Give it to me on a USB.”

“…Understood.”

After the conversation ended, he left the executive’s office and walked away.

The cigarette smoke-filled room had given him a headache.

He needed fresh air.

To clear his mind and hide his current expression from his team, he headed to the rooftop.

‘Life really sucks~’

He had quit smoking recently.

Whenever he smoked, he was reminded of the smoke-filled room, and he couldn’t stand it anymore.

So all he did on the rooftop was take deep breaths and sigh.

“…Maybe I should start an online broadcast.”

Then he wouldn’t have to worry about the executive and could do what he wanted.

‘Ugh. What am I saying? Do I want to starve?’

Ahn Dohyun shook his head.

If he ever did, it would be later.

For now, he needed to finish the program properly.

“Sigh….”

He took a deep breath and exhaled.

A sigh, laced with a hint of complaint, escaped into the air.

“Ugh. Isn’t there anyone who can knock that bald guy’s wig off?”

At that moment, the image of Lee Jaesang flashed through Andohyun’s mind, and he shook his head.

“What can a mere teacher do?”

Lee Jaesang was an impressive person, but at the end of the day, he was just a high school teacher. His students were merely high schoolers, too. The questions in this competition were all at a college level, some even based on hypotheses still under discussion. There was no way a high school student, or even a high school teacher, could solve them all.

In the end, the structure was set up so that the main character of this stage would inevitably come out on top. Breaking this structure seemed impossible for Andohyun, Lee Jaesang, or his students.

Yeah, it was bound to fail.

“Ah, whatever. I’ll just do this one last time and then maybe start streaming or something. This stress is going to kill me.”

As Andohyun descended from the rooftop, he seemed filled with nothing but disappointment in reality.

***

While the Magic Research Club was busy preparing for the quiz competition, Hana and I were working on a new project.

“Teacher! Is this okay?”

“Let me see…”

She handed me her smartphone, showing a video of me.

“Wow, you did a great job filming! Thanks, Hana.”

“Hehe…”

Hana and I were preparing online lectures for students during the break. The principal had requested it, but I had been thinking about ways to teach more students since the start of the semester, so it was a win-win situation.

“Hmm. Maybe I should learn some editing.”

Filming was easy enough with a smartphone, and Hana could handle the camera work, so there weren’t any major issues. Still, since it was an official school lecture, I thought it might need some editing.

“I’ll think about it later. If necessary, I can always hire someone.”

We had time until the break, so for now, we just needed to shoot plenty of footage.

“Great. Let’s keep filming like this… Do you have something to say?”

Hana, who had been beaming from the praise, hesitated as if she had something on her mind.

“Um… Teacher, is it confirmed that the club students are entering the competition?”

“Hmm? Yes, it is.”

“What if… there’s some kind of conspiracy?”

“A conspiracy?”

Hana hesitated before telling me about something she read online. It was a conspiracy theory about the sudden inclusion of a high school team, suggesting it was to promote someone.

“Really? That sounds plausible.”

The evidence was too specific to dismiss as mere conspiracy theory. Was there an insider?

“Wouldn’t that be a big problem if the other side knows all the questions?”

“Hmm. No, it doesn’t really matter.”

“R-really?”

“Of course.”

Honestly, I thought there might be some truth to it. There could be a reason behind the sudden inclusion.

“Then shouldn’t we not participate…?”

“No, it’s fine to participate. They’re our kids, after all.”

I didn’t think my students would lose to someone who just memorized leaked questions. Especially with me around. But if that conspiracy was true…

“There’s someone doing something shady, right?”

I had no intention of just sitting back and letting it happen.