The article spread quickly.
Previously, I had asked Mr. Deokbae to deliberately leak some information to journalists I had met at a previous press conference, who were affiliated with my mother’s side broadcasting station, partly to give them some leads. It seems that the news spread even faster than I had anticipated.
[Yuseong Group raises potion prices by 200% due to rising raw material costs… Is this Yuseong Group’s tyranny?]
[“Everything is patented anyway” – Small guilds in difficulty due to Yuseong Group’s potion technology monopoly. If this continues…]
[A deal with Vultures may lead to US expansion; Domestic guilds and even the government and association can’t touch their overwhelming dominance.]
“Hmm, at least no broadcasting station is directly criticizing us.”
“Right? I was at the board meeting earlier, and a lot of people said they wanted to see you.”
During lunchtime, these were Eve’s first words to me after I had been ‘kidnapped’ to the director’s office for reasons I could not fathom.
“Generally, how were their attitudes?”
“I don’t know, but first, they all want to meet my demands and contact you to ask for the potion prices to return to the original cost… They pick up on things far too quickly…”
Despite articles suggesting that our tyranny could lead to patents being nationalized and made public for other guilds to use, it seems that our board members had a better understanding of the situation compared to the trash journalists who spread fake news so easily.
“It may be expensive, but my biological father’s decision to patent everything in the Akashic Records was quite wise.”
“That’s true; only the registrant can alter the patents there.”
Unfortunately, among all the foolish things Yun Seong-ho did, one of his better decisions was registering all potion-related patents with the World Patent Office instead of the Korean Patent Office. Known as the Akashic Records, information from this site states that the patents have a whopping 52 years remaining.
In South Korea, numerous people may have rushed in, criticizing the monopolization of technology, thereby drastically cutting the patent expiration period. Additionally, the government would likely have conducted unwarranted searches and seizures within the company, taking any available potions.
‘Now I understand why the government was unusually cooperative when I announced plans for international expansion right after my father’s funeral.’
Yun Seong-ho’s decision to patent internationally, combined with the opportunity to expand into the US, transformed Yuseong Group from a weak entity producing golden eggs into a dragon guarding a treasure-filled lair.
Partnering openly with the Vultures Guild was far more helpful than anticipated.
‘How could someone with the intellect to register patents on the Akashic Records not have considered overseas expansion when guilds conspired to fix potion prices domestically… Well, anyway, I plan to alleviate this eventually…’
At least not until the final battle with the ultimate boss, when global resources need to be secured.
‘With its current strength, Yuseong Group is powerful enough to throttle domestic guilds.’
Until then, I must ensure that the ‘cessation of potion supply’ remains a powerful negotiation card.
‘Playing the game became too convoluted due to too many potato-like elements.’
Countless external forces interfered with the protagonist simply because they did not join their guilds. I will sort all this out.
…
“Anyway, I’ve heard that the special admission process will change.”
“Yes, going forward, I’ve decided to only admit students chosen by myself through special admissions.”
Upon hearing Eve’s statement, I was quite surprised.
‘This decision matches what the protagonist made when they were heavily monitored by guilds…’
It’s a good sign that the original story is heading towards a better direction.
“Though, since I anticipated backlash, I proposed adding a condition that students who achieve average level in their year should undergo mock battles to prove their ability… but everyone silently agreed, which is making me a little nervous. I should’ve just announced open admission without mock battles.”
“Still, it’s remarkable that you managed to silence the directors completely.”
“Eh, this is all thanks to our president. The board members now know that you and I are on the same team, so they’ll likely follow my words.”
Eve grinned as she moved her hands to form the shape of money.
“Anyway, is second-year coursework manageable?”
“…It seems manageable.”
The integrated courses taken by all second-year students and the elective courses selected during Wednesday’s 1-4 PM time slot.
Most cadets chose popular subjects like anti-monster combat or battle tactics, but I selected alchemy to improve the potions I know about and discover methods to refine future hidden recipes.
Given the calm schedule, I anticipated an issue-free academy life. However, it proved to be quite difficult while experiencing academy life as Yoon Se-ah.
In the game, all lessons and training were skipped, showing only the results of improved stats, making it challenging to follow the curriculum’s progress.
Though I knew that goblins’ weak point is their neck—after multiple retries—writing an answer like “[Just dodge everything with control and strike the head to kill]” wasn’t appropriate when they requested a written description of techniques for exploiting a goblin’s neck exposure.
In other reincarnation novels, the system usually provides the answers, or the author offers assistance. In this world, however, the deity seems very strict.
“Ah, anyway, one transfer student will join your class. Originally in Class B, their true strength was hidden… They defeated a Class A student in just four seconds during the mock battle.”
“Transfer student?”
Lost in thought for too long, my bought lunch box was now empty.
Without visible signs, Eve had piled up cup noodle containers, all burnt by lightning magic until no trace was left, as she stood up.
“Yes, I’m off to work now… This was supposed to be a secret, but I decided to tell you. Further details will still take time to conclude, but the student is expected to enter at the end of the day. Look forward to it; you’ll be surprised.”
‘Transfer student…’
Whether entering as a third-year or second-year, the enrollment ceremony is mandatory.
‘Then, could they be one of the people I faintly remembered?’
Typically, transfers are from other academies.
‘Given the special screening process, they must be highly skilled… quite intriguing.’
“Well, I’ll go back now.”
“Okay, do well in the remaining classes!”
– Squeak
“Hmm… Wasn’t my next class practical combat?”
With high anticipation, after finishing the afternoon practical combat class, I returned to the classroom.
“Hey, who do you think you are sitting in my seat after coming here?”
“I’m sorry, but the director said transfer students can sit wherever they wish, correct?”
“There are many empty seats. Don’t disturb someone else’s and sit somewhere vacant.”
“That’s problematic. I have a great debt of gratitude to the owner of this seat that I dare not mention.”
Kang Ayul and the squint-eyed new student faced off, gripping each other’s collars.
…
…
…
Because the class structure remained the same for three years, most second-year students remained the same except for a few who were demoted due to grades.
When Kang Ayul returned to the classroom after finishing the practical combat session and witnessed this scene…
The reason was clear—the blind person sitting in front of her.
Kang Ayul had never defeated Yoon Se-ah since entering Raon Academy.
With every failure, she felt unbearable anger and inferiority, but…
“Why do you consider them your enemy? They don’t have the same role, and even if they did, don’t you think they could become allies like me and a Celestial Horse?”
After hearing her grandfather, an S-class hero named Kang Jin-myung, Kang Ayul recognized Yoon Se-ah as a rival to catch up with and surpass, and eventually as a trusted ally she could turn her back on when entering the Gates as a hero.
However, lately, Yoon Se-ah’s behavior had become unusual.
Since returning home with a determined look on Christmas Eve, Yoon Se-ah appeared transformed.
Unlike before, during this practical combat session, instead of starting with an overwhelming psychic field generated by immense magical power to restrict movement and flying through the void during combat, Yoon Se-ah struggled to dodge her own strikes.
While telekinetic pressure was often strong enough to immobilize anyone except Yoon Se-ah herself, it was now weak enough to overcome by simply applying force in a single direction.
Recalling reading research indicating that sudden mental instability could reduce a psychic’s power output, Kang Ayul began worrying about Yoon Se-ah’s state.
No matter how clumsy Yoon Se-ah acted, she was always the one who smiled and indulged Kang Ayul’s whims. Kang Ayul returned to the classroom, believing this time she would truly be able to help Yoon Se-ah, only to…
“Ah, is this seat taken?”
be greeted with an unexpected development.
Kang Ayul had never moved from Yoon Se-ah’s side since entering Raon Academy. The other students in Class A were well aware of this, a rule that had become an unspoken law.
However, the blind person now sat confidently in the spot.
Initially intent on persuading them nicely to move to an empty seat…
“Could you kindly give way once? I’ve heard we’ve sat together for a year.”
The stubborn, unmoving demeanor of the closed squint broke her patience.
“What are you two doing?”
Upon regaining her composure, she realized she and the blind person had been caught in a physical altercation by the last person she wanted to see.
