A young boy stifled a yawn as the principal’s speech dragged on.

  The grand auditorium of the Adventurer Academy, was packed with students, its sheer size overwhelming. Towering stone pilrs lined the sides, reaching toward a vaulted ceiling adorned with glowing mana crystals that illuminated the massive hall with a soft blue hue. The walls were etched with ancient inscriptions, rumored to be blessings from past generations of adventurers. The stage, positioned at the front, was elevated above the crowd, giving the principal and faculty members a commanding view of the gathered students.

  In front of the stage, four rge tables stood, each draped in a cloth of a different color: Red for Warriors, Green for Scouts, Yellow for Wizards, and Blue for Healers. Behind them, the unsorted students waited anxiously for their turn to be assigned to their respective csses.

  Today marked his first day at the Adventurer Academy, and he was already regretting his decision. What on earth had possessed him to enroll in a pce like this? How had he, someone with the mind of a modern-day boy, chosen to risk his life chasing fame and fortune instead of opting for a safe, stable job in the city?

  What the heck was I thinking?!

  He berated himself, convinced he had lost his mind. Yet, here he was—his name signed in the registry by his own hand, his body barely scraping through the physical exam, pcing second… from the bottom.

  At least he had won the bet. That was something, right? But now what? Was he seriously expected to fight monsters beyond the city walls? How was he supposed to do that?! The brutal truth was that he was a mob—this whole adventurer thing wasn’t going to work out. But quitting now wasn’t an option either. He could already picture his so-called friends mocking him, calling him a coward. The mere thought was enough to give him a headache.

  No, giving up was off the table. His best bet was to just wait until he was naturaly kicked out. After all, every year, it's said that about 20% of new students get expelled and if he, who was second from st pce wasn't expelled, then who the hell would?

  His thoughts were suddenly cut short as the students around him stood up. Taking the hint, he followed suit, even though he had no idea where they were going. Maybe he should have paid attention to the principal’s speech after all, but it was too te for regrets.

  The group moved behind the stage, forming a single file line. One by one, students were called forward.

  Though he couldn't see past the curtain, their voices gave him a clear idea of what was happening.

  “Next,” the principal called. “Your name, young one.”

  A tall boy stepped forward, his blond hair neatly tied back into a short ponytail, framing a face that seemed too elegant for a battlefield. His blue eyes shone with confidence, and his uniform looked pristine, as if he belonged in a noble academy rather than an adventurer’s school. He carried himself with the ease of someone who was used to being praised and admired.

  “Christopher Lightwatch,” the student answered.

  “Good. Touch the crystal ball before you.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  A brief pause, then the principal spoke again.

  “Excellent all-around stats and a rge mana pool. Honestly, any css would suit you. Now, between Scout, Warrior, Mage, and Healer, which do you choose?”

  “I... I want to be a Magic Swordsman!”

  “I see... In that case, choose either the path of the Mage or the Warrior. You’ll be able to specialize in your third year.”

  “Then... Warrior!”

  “Perfect! Take this medal and choose a seat by the red table.”

  So that’s what’s happening—they’re assigning our csses right away! Hmm, what should I pick...?

  “Next!” the principal called. “Your name, young ss?”

  A petite girl hesitantly stepped forward, her light brown hair cut into a short bob that barely reached her shoulders. She had big, round hazel eyes, which darted nervously between the principal and the crystal ball. Her uniform looked slightly oversized on her small frame, making her appear even more delicate. She clutched the hem of her sleeves as if it were a lifeline.

  “Misha Florentia,” a girl responded.

  “Very well, little Misha. Pce your hand on the crystal ball.”

  “Y-yes.”

  A moment passed before the principal continued.

  “Good agility and dexterity, but retively lower strength and a small mana pool. I’d recommend the Scout css, but the choice is yours. What will it be?”

  “I... I want to be a Healer.”

  The principal nodded, though his forced smile barely hid his true thoughts.

  “That’s a fine choice as well. Take this medal and head to the blue table.”

  So we’re not forced to pick the recommended option? Good to know! That means all I have to do is choose the css I’m least suited for, and they’ll kick me out in no time!

  “Next!”

  ...

  “Next!”

  ...

  “Next!”

  ...

  And finally, it was his turn.

  “Next!”

  Hearing the principal’s call, the boy took a deep breath and hurried forward.

  “Very well, boy. Tell me your name,” the Principal said with a smile.

  “Ethan Cross, sir!”

  “Hohohoho! Good! Good! Boys should be energetic!” The Principal chuckled heartily. “Now, pce your hand on the crystal ball.”

  Ethan did as instructed, pressing his palm against the smooth surface. The moment he did, the Principal’s face stiffened, his eyes widening ever so slightly in barely concealed shock.

  It wasn’t because Ethan’s stats were remarkable.

  No—quite the opposite.

  His agility? Poor.His dexterity? Poor.Strength and stamina? Both below average.

  How in the world had someone this weak managed to pass the entrance exams?!

  Then, the answer became clear—the only thing barely keeping Ethan in the running was his Mana Pool, which just scraped into the Great Rank, pushing his overall score just high enough to qualify. But even with a rge mana pool, his physical attributes were abysmal. Even if he pursued magic, the moment a beast got too close, it would be game over.

  A deep silence stretched between them.

  “Sir?” Ethan finally spoke, shifting uncomfortably. The long pause had gone from awkward to concerning.

  Meanwhile, the Principal’s mind remained locked in a silent battle between duty and conscience. Should he be honest and tell the boy outright that he had no future here? Or should he simply do his job and deliver the results, no matter how bleak?

  No… telling the boy he was unqualified trash in front of the entire school would be far too cruel. A better approach would be to gently push him toward failure. If he misled Ethan down the wrong path, poor grades would take care of the rest.

  The Principal cleared his throat, masking his inner turmoil.

  “Ahem! So, as I was saying, considering your below-average physical stats and your decent mana pool, I’d strongly advise you to choose either Warrior or Scout! You may not be all that strong now, but with a bit of training, due to your mana pool, those constraints should come lose! Now, which will it be?”

  Ethan blinked. That was unexpected. But if the Principal was pushing him toward those csses, that meant he should do the exact opposite. After all, his goal was to be kicked out as quickly as possible.

  Between Mage and Healer, which one would get him kicked out the fastest?

  His gaze drifted toward the Mage table—filled with serious, sharp-eyed students who looked like they actually studied for this. Then, his eyes wandered to the Healer table, where a group of innocent, cheerful-looking girls sat chatting excitedly.

  It's said that Mages are a css that requires inteligence, and Ethan thought of himself pretty smart... well, maybe not that much if you consider his test actions, but still he trusted that he would be able to learn any spell or craft easily as long as they taught him right...

  "But if my aim is to be kicked out..."

  A grin tugged at the corner of his lips, looking at the many cute girls happily chatting by the Healer's table.

  “Have you made your choice?” the Principal asked, impatiently waiting for the inevitable.

  “Yes, sir! I’ll be a Healer!”

  The Principal’s carefully maintained smile almost shattered on the spot. He hadn’t expected that.

  But after a moment of consideration, he let out a quiet sigh. Well… maybe it’s not the worst outcome. If the boy somehow survives, he could always settle down as a small-town healer somewhere…

  “Excellent choice,” the Principal finally said, forcing his usual pleasant tone. He handed Ethan a small metal emblem. “Take your medal and wait by the blue table.”

  Upon arriving at the blue table, Ethan noticed the girls instinctively parting, making way for him. Just as he was about to thank them, he realized something odd—they weren’t stopping. They kept shifting farther and farther away, like frightened chicks fleeing from a predator that had intruded into their home.

  That’s fine, they’re just acting shy…

  Or so he told himself.

  Then, he started hearing their murmurs, whispered just loudly enough for him to catch.

  "Look at him, could he be any more shameless?"

  "At least the st one was handsome, but this guy... he's just meh."

  "Right? Right? I don’t understand where he even gets the courage to do something like this!"

  "Who knows, maybe he’s gay?"

  "Gay? I doubt it! The way he just gced at me with those predator eyes sent shivers down my spine!"

  "That’s right! That guy is just some lustful trash who doesn’t even have the guts to lift a sword!"

  Ethan’s cheeks twitched as he clenched his fists under the table. The more he listened, the more he regretted this choice.

  But it was too te.

  It wasn’t like he could stand up and switch his css now.

  It’s fine, he convinced himself. It’s just for a little while! Just until I get thrown out!

  He reassured himself, fully convinced that he had no future walking the healer’s path.

  When I get out, this will be a good tale to tell my friends back in the vilge!

  With that, he reinforced his convictions, expecting nothing more from his new cssmates.

  Shaking off his irritation, he turned his attention back to the stage, where the st few students were making their choices.

  “Next.”

  The Principal’s calm voice rang out, carrying the same patience and warm smile as before.

  A thin, pale-skinned boy hesitantly stepped forward. His messy bck hair fell over his dull gray eyes, giving him a perpetually exhausted appearance. His uniform was slightly oversized, as if meant for someone stronger, and the way he fidgeted with his sleeves made him seem even smaller than he already was.

  "I-I'm Oliver Greaves, sir."

  The Principal nodded.

  "Very well. Pce your hand on the crystal ball."

  Oliver hesitated for a moment before obeying, pressing his bony fingers against the smooth surface. The crystal glowed faintly, before flickering like a candle about to go out.

  The Principal frowned.

  Below average in all physical attributes.Barely measurable mana pool.

  Honestly, he hadn’t expected to find another failure quite so soon after the st one. But life was always full of surprises.

  Stopping for a moment, the Principal gnced at Ethan, who was still sitting awkwardly at the blue table.

  Maybe I should put them together?

  Clearing his throat, the Principal offered a gentle smile.

  "I strongly believe you should aim to be a Healer, but the choice is yours. Which one will it be?"

  Oliver looked around, panic flickering in his dull gray eyes.

  The red table was full of muscur students, all radiating power and confidence.The green table was filled with dangerous-looking individuals, their eyes sharp and calcuting.The yellow table was occupied by proud, intellectual students, exuding an air of superiority.And the blue table… almost entirely filled with girls—except for one awkward-looking boy who was avoiding eye contact and a handsome pyboy who was surrounded by girls.

  Oliver gulped.

  The Principal’s smile remained, but his tone made it clear that patience was wearing thin.

  "Don't worry, take your time."

  The words were polite, but the meaning was obvious—Hurry up and pick already.

  Under the weight of the growing pressure, Oliver relented.

  "A-All right... I’ll be a Healer."

  “Great choice!” The Principal handed him a small blue medal, the light glinting off its smooth surface.

  "Go sit by the blue table."

  As Oliver turned and made his way over, Ethan greeted him with a friendly smile, pulling out the seat next to him.

  "Nice to meet you! I'm Ethan Cross."

  Oliver hesitated for a moment before nodding and returning the greeting, his voice quiet but polite.

  "N-Nice to meet you too. I'm Oliver Greaves."

  Ethan blinked in surprise.

  "Greaves? As in the Greaves Merchant Association?"

  Oliver flinched slightly, his posture stiffening.

  "T-That's right! That's my family's business!"

  Ethan let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair.

  "Wow, incredible! Your family must be swimming in golden coins! How the heck did you end up here?"

  Oliver opened his mouth, then hesitated, his fingers twitching slightly against the table.

  "Th-that's..." He struggled to find the right words, unsure if he should continue.

  Ethan tilted his head, curiosity glowing in his eyes.

  "Hmm?"

  After a moment of internal debate, Oliver sighed, feeling the genuine interest in Ethan's expression.

  "Th-that's thanks to a useless, outdated tradition that forces all children from the main family to attend Academy," he finally admitted, his voice ced with frustration.

  Ethan stared at him for a second, then suddenly burst into ughter.

  "Hahahaha! Is that so? Then at least it's better than me!"

  Oliver blinked in confusion.

  "Eh? Why?"

  Ethan grinned, crossing his arms.

  "Because I ended up here just because of a stupid bet I made with my friends!"

  Oliver's jaw nearly dropped.

  "A bet!?"

  "Indeed," Ethan confirmed, shaking his head. "I was too hot-headed for my own good and ended up biting off more than I could chew. But somehow, I still made it this far… even if only barely."

  Oliver stared at him for a moment, then let out a small, amused chuckle.

  "I… I guess that makes two of us, then."

  "Well, I'll probably be kicked out before the end of the semester, but until then, please take care of me!" Ethan said with a grin.

  "Y-yes! Please take care of me too!" Oliver replied, nodding eagerly.

  The two shook hands, exchanging genuine smiles—a rare moment of camaraderie between two misfits in a school they clearly didn’t belong in.

  Meanwhile, the girls surrounding them began murmuring loudly again, their whispers turning into an outright gossip session.

  "See!? I told you he was gay!"

  "Right! Right! Look at that smile! Staring straight into another boy's eyes like that!"

  "It must be love at first sight! Wow! So romantic!"

  "I wonder… who goes below and who goes above…"

  "Of course it's—"

  Before the st girl could finish her sentence, both Ethan and Oliver snapped out of their handshake, yanking their hands away as if they had touched fire, stepping apart in synchronized panic.

  Ethan turned to Oliver, eyes wide with suspicion.

  "Hey, are you—"

  "NO! I'M NOT!" Oliver shouted before he could even finish the question.