o|-o|-o|-..
The fizzled mood turned cold. Jioh stared at the instructor with a dumbfounded face.
‘Crazy XX, what the XX? Isn’t that XX XX? XX.’
[Your Constellation, ‘Reader of Fate,’ says they were about to say something, but clicks their tongue in astonishment at the kids’ courage.]
‘…It was really fake?’
Right down to the Star’s final full stop.
The kids who’d grasped the situation also seemed to relax. Yang Se-do plopped down and burst into sobs.
“Mommmm…”
“Alright, alright. Don’t cry—up you get.”
But the instructor gave no quarter.
Rather than soothing them, he reset the tone with a slightly stern voice.
“Why are you crying when you did well? You all did exactly what you’ve learned—perfect on untying restraints. Full marks on situational judgment. Even the fact you didn’t give up—excellent across the board! You’ve beaten all the middle-school teams—you’re top score right now.”
An instructor, not a “teacher.”
From his plain, matter-of-fact manner, Jioh once again felt keenly that they weren’t here on a lark.
Though it looked like a simple outdoor experience, this was a survival-type ability-development camp hosted by the Center and the guild under a clear purpose.
Solving food, clothing, and shelter by themselves, responding to crisis—these were all part of it.
‘Figures there were rough edges…’
“…Figures your body looks trained,” Gyeon Riok muttered beside him. His crumpled expression made it clear he felt just…