“Is it bad news?”
At the question from Management Team Lead Seol Yeo-jin, Jurim shook his head and closed the message window.
“It’s personal. You don’t need to worry about it. How are the kids?”
Smiling faintly, Seol Yeo-jin handed over some documents on the desk.
“Serhi and Guru. Both of them have exceptionally high intelligence, you know? I was a little worried since Serhi’s never had formal education, but once we taught him the basics, he followed along really well. I was thinking we’d have to prepare him for the exams two years from now, but I think we can aim for next year’s instead.”
Her voice was bright with excitement.
It was hard to believe Guru was only four, and although Serhi always wore a sulky face and snapped back a lot, he followed instructions properly when pushed.
“Really? What about Dani?”
“......Dani’s, well, physically strong. You need stamina to sit in a chair and study for long periods...”
“Good thing he’s got at least that.”
When Jurim snarked, Yeo-jin let out a soft laugh.
“Dani will do fine once he gets serious. He just hasn’t tried yet.”
Jurim nodded absentmindedly.
The reason Jurim had asked Yeo-jin to handle the kids’ education was because of Suhyeong.
Suhyeong, more serious about Guru’s education than anyone else, had recommended several advanced academies for gifted children in Korea.
“Since Guru Awakened early, Justitia International School would be a good fit too.”
In truth, Jurim wanted Guru to grow up normally... but the kid was beyond standard.
At a regular school, she’d stand out even more.
If that was inevitable, it would be better to send her somewhere with people who could protect her. Gidan was currently attending Justitia International School.
They were preparing for Guru’s schooling when Serhi ended up joining Hyeonak.
One thing led to another, and they decided to send Serhi to Justitia as well.
When Jurim ➤ NоvеIight ➤ (Read more on our source) said he’d enroll Serhi, his guardian Jin Siwon agreed without hesitation.
Said he’d been worrying about the same thing anyway—muttering some nonsense about how the kid was a little behind because he grew up on a farm.
“Actually, there is one problem with Serhi and Guru... They’re both so smart, so most subjects aren’t an issue but...”
She handed over another document. Jurim took it with a puzzled expression.
It was a worksheet with elementary-level Korean language questions printed on it.
A basic literacy test where students were supposed to write appropriate words in the blanks based on the illustrated situations. The difficulty was laughably low, so Jurim couldn’t understand what Yeo-jin was concerned about—until he saw their answers.
The blanks were filled with messy handwriting.
Name: Serhi
(Illustration of Cheolsu scoring a goal and his friend cheering)
[Cheolsu, you (sick as fuck)!]
Name: Hanguru
(Illustration of Yeonghee holding a test with a perfect math score while her friend claps)
[Yeonghee, you da math (boss bitch)!]
The answers didn’t improve on the next page either.
It seemed Serhi didn’t know standard Korean at all, and Guru was completely obsessed with the word “boss bitch.”
“Hm...”
Jurim rubbed his face once, rested his chin on his hand, and asked seriously,
“What about donor admissions?”
He was more than willing to lay turf across the school grounds, and if it came down to it, Guru’s grandfather could probably fund an entirely new building.
Yeo-jin smiled faintly and retorted,
“As if they’d go for that?”
When Jurim clicked his tongue in disappointment, she adjusted her glasses.
“Don’t worry. Just leave it to our team. I’m not saying this to flatter you—the kids are genuinely smart. If we just sit them down and drill them, they’ll pass the written exams no problem.”
“Do what you need to.”
Jurim nodded.
It was Seol Yeo-jin who had sweet-talked and coaxed the rebellious Gidan into school a year ago. If she said she could handle it, there was no reason to doubt her.
“Then, I’ll get going.”
Grinning brightly at the thought of putting the kids through their paces, Yeo-jin gave a polite farewell and left the Guildmaster’s office.
After the door closed, Jurim stretched his stiff neck side to side and tapped his fingers lightly on the desk.
The person who had left Guru at the orphanage was dead.
It had been entirely unexpected.
Whether it was her mother’s side or her father’s side, whether they were even her real parents—he had no way of knowing.
Should he keep pursuing it, or would it be better to drop the investigation here? He couldn’t make up his mind.
Chapter: The Festival and the Fake Chick
The quiet hallway in front of the teachers’ office.
Korean teacher Choi Sun-hye smiled as she spotted someone.
“Oh, Woo-gyeong. Can you take these printouts to Teacher Munira?”
It was Seon Woo-gyeong, just stepping out of the teachers’ office.
“Sure, I’ll take them.”
Woo-gyeong smiled lightly and accepted the thick stack of papers.
Sun-hye looked at the dependable student council president with a satisfied expression.
“It’s such a relief to have a model student like you in our class. We’ve had a lot of troublemakers... Especially Honggi.”
At the mention of Ham Honggi, Woo-gyeong’s eyes cooled for a moment.
“What trouble? Besides, Honggi’s been pretty well-behaved lately. Comes to school on time, does the recycling properly...”
At the comment about recycling, Choi Sun-hye stifled a laugh. She pictured Ham Honggi, acting like a good kid lately, probably because of the recent incident with his family.
“Well, we’ll see how long that lasts.”
Woo-gyeong’s eyes curved with a smile.
Right. Let’s see how long that act lasts.
He silently agreed and slipped into Munira’s classroom, closing the door behind him.
Bzzzz—
At that moment, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Woo-gyeong pulled out his phone, carefully keeping his face neutral as he read the name on the screen.
[NAG Gu Shinhoo]
How many damn times are you gonna call me?
Gu Shinhoo. That dumbass birdbrain bastard.
Annoyed, Woo-gyeong tossed the phone onto the teacher’s podium.
He’d pretended to be a fake Chick-Class Hunter, sold some items, and somehow, Gu Shinhoo had gotten his number and had been blowing up his phone ever since.
No matter how much he tried to dodge it, that stubborn idiot, obsessed with recruiting a Chick-Class Hunter, wouldn’t quit.
Didn’t expect Gu Shinhoo to take the bait.
If he’d known an S-Rank Guildmaster would cling this hard, he never would’ve faked being a Chick-Class.
He was still using his student status as an excuse to reject Gu Shinhoo’s offers, but the real problem was—graduation wasn’t far off.
Most of his classmates were already under some guild’s sponsorship. His excuse of still being in school wouldn’t hold much longer.
Fucking annoying!
He was glaring at the vibrating phone when—
“Not gonna answer?”
“Ah...”
Woo-gyeong looked up as Munira entered the classroom, glancing at his phone.
Munira swayed over, peeking down at the screen.
“NAG’s a major guild. Seems like a great opportunity. You need the money, don’t you?”
Money... Woo-gyeong muttered, smiling bitterly.
Yeah. The only reason he accepted Munira’s offer was for money.
His goal was to save enough capital to get the hell out of this miserable country.
“I’m not Gidan, and I’m not really a Chick-Class Hunter either. What’s the starting salary at NAG for someone like me? Maybe a hundred million won? After taxes, not even that. And for a dirt-poor kid like me, even breathing costs money. If rumors spread that I got hired at a big guild, at least fifty relatives would crawl out of the woodwork calling me. They’re probably all just waiting to rent a bus and come squeeze whatever they can out of me after graduation. I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up worse off.”
The supposed “Dragon from the Mud”—the future pillar of his family.
Woo-gyeong was already being groomed to carry his entire household on his back.
Like hell I’m doing that.
Why should he repay a family that never did a thing for him?
In the end, his goal became clear: save enough capital and leave this country behind.
To that end, Woo-gyeong had been ruthlessly chasing money.
Once he shifted his perspective, earning cash wasn’t hard.
He set up an illegal sports betting site and steadily grew its reach.
Clients were easy to find—high school students were the perfect vulnerable targets.
It was around that time he met Munira.
“That gambling site spreading around the school lately—that’s yours, right?”
The moment he thought everything was ruined—
“Woo-gyeong, do you need money?”
“Huh?”
“I want to help you, you know.”
She whispered sweetly and handed him the bottle.

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