I stood outside the classroom door, staring at it like it had just insulted my mother.
My face was blank. Emotionless. Deadpan. But inside?
I was screaming.
Class A.
I even checked the label twice to be sure. It glowed golden—Class A, Section 1.
"Are you kidding me...?"
I muttered under my breath. I'd seen my entrance scores. There was no way I was supposed to be here. I should've been dumped somewhere around Class D or maybe C at best, where mob characters go to be irrelevant.
This… this was plot territory.
My entire plan to avoid the spotlight? To keep my head down and quietly farm side quests?
Gone. Shattered. Vaporized.
At this point, it felt personal. Like the story itself was mocking me.
It took every ounce of restraint not to slap myself. Two minutes passed. Then—
"So, ya goin' in or what?"
I turned.
Crimson-orange hair. Emerald eyes. Balanced features between cute and composed. She had a presence that tugged at your attention even without trying.
Candice Midas.
Future heir to the Midas Consortium, the game's most powerful merchant family. She was a prodigy in negotiation, economics, and resource management. A woman who could sell mana stones to dwarves and convince dragons to invest in startup businesses.
One of the main characters.
Of course she'd be in Class A.
"You can go in ahead," I said quietly, stepping aside.
She blinked at me once, unreadable, then walked in without another word.
I let out a breath. One character down. RNG had done its job for the day, surely—
"Oi, shortie. Move."
…Of course not.
I slowly turned my head. And there she was.
Sky-blue hair tied into a lazy ponytail, sapphire eyes full of attitude, and a grin that belonged on a delinquent idol. Her uniform looked slightly rumpled like she'd slept in it. Somehow, that only added to the charm.
Keesha Valenstein.
Daughter of a prestigious noble house known for their mastery of both lances and bows. A fan favorite from the forums and a cosplay magnet in the old community. People wrote entire articles on her charm.
She looked like the living embodiment of, "I could kick your ass and flirt with you at the same time."
I stepped aside again, soul hollowed out.
I was supposed to stay away from these people. Avoid them like you'd avoid a plague - a very beautiful plague. But noooo. Fate decided to put me in their class.
At this point, I half-expected Kaleb to be next.
I leaned against the wall, taking a moment to compose myself. Breathing exercises. Calm. Control. I was an NPC. Just passing through. Nothing to see here.
Eventually, I accepted the inevitable.
I sighed and pushed the door open.
The classroom was elegant and intimidating. A multi-tiered amphitheater with desks arranged in a semi-circle. A wide whiteboard spanned the front, and large floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the room in golden light.
Five students were already here. Two unremarkable—clearly background characters. The rest?
Candice sat up front, talking with Rydell.
Rydell—the kind of guy you just knew had a tragic backstory, unresolved trauma, and anger issues buried under a well-manicured smile. The moment he spoke, you could practically hear boss music in the distance.
Keesha, meanwhile, had parked herself by the NPCs and was already cracking jokes.
I quietly made my way to the back, choosing the seat by the window. Classic protagonist real estate. But it wasn't about that.
The sun felt warm on my skin. And this spot made it easier to avoid eye contact.
More students trickled in. Among them…
Alice Levantine.
And for a brief second, I forgot how to breathe.
Tall. Silver hair. Violet eyes hidden behind half-moon glasses. She had the cold, scholarly aura of someone who solved math problems for fun and judged you silently for using "your" instead of "you're."
She was elegance bottled into human form. Reserved. Beautiful. Efficient.
If someone asked me what my type was, I'd probably point and say: her.
She walked past without acknowledging anyone, settling in a middle-row seat and immediately pulling out a book titled "Mana Theory and Metaphysics: Volume IX."
A part of me flinched. I remembered that cursed trial from three days ago. That samurai version of myself. The name carved into the tree.
Alice.
Was it Coincidence? I didn't know. But somehow this whole thing unsettled me.
"I'm probably overthinking it."
I leaned back in my chair.
Then the door opened again.
And this time, the class didn't just look.
We stared - more precisely we men stared.
She walked in like a queen gracing a peasant banquet.
Long black hair tied into a loose braid, golden eyes sharper than daggers, and a figure that broke moral codes across three continents. Her heels clicked with authority. Her uniform was modified—a sleeveless blouse, tight high-waist pants, and gloves that screamed "don't mess with me."
Professor Liana Verres.
Combat-mage. Academy staff. Rank: S. Reputation: strict, efficient, and terrifyingly competent.
Charm stat? Probably maxed out.
She was also, to put it bluntly, not my exact type.
I felt my soul lurch. "Johnson" was waking up. I crossed my legs under the table.
> 'Come on man not now!'
> "Keep it together, men! We shall not fall to our inner demons!"
And just like that, one of the NPCs in front of me slammed his head into the desk with a red face.
> "A brother has been lost today."
"Good morning," Professor Verres said coolly. Her voice had the crisp bite of winter air. "Welcome to Class A. I suggest you remember this moment. Some of you won't last here long."
She placed a small device on her desk. A flat crystal panel lit up, displaying a list.
"Roll call. Stand when I say your name. And remember your rank. It is not your worth. It is your starting line."
Kaleb Orion. Rank 1.
A boy stood up near the front. Tall. Athletic. A smile that could light up a war zone.
The intended protagonist.
Of course, he looked like a shounen MC. Sword at his hip. Eyes full of justice. Probably already had three love interests in the works.
"Candice Midas. Rank 4."
She stood. Confident. Calm.
"Keesha Valenstein. Rank 5."
"Yo," she said, raising her hand lazily.
"Alice Levantine. Rank 6."
She didn't speak. Just nodded.
The names kept rolling.
Then—
"Axel Calford."
I stood slowly. "Present."
"…Rank 1509."
Silence.
Several heads turned.
I sat down again.
No one said anything. But I could feel the whispers forming. Not spoken aloud, but written across their faces.
'What's a low-ranker doing in Class A?'
Good question. I was wondering that myself.
Professor Verres continued the roll call, then closed the panel with a soft chime.
"We'll begin orientation with a brief overview of your academic streams. Combat, Engineering, Support, and Command. Each of you will specialize across two. Some of you may dabble in three. Few of you will survive trying to master them all."
My ears perked up.
Engineering. Support. Combat. My niche.
As expected, no one batted an eye to those. Most of Class A was packed with flashy swordsmen, elementalists, and noble brats with god-complexes. No one cared about the behind the scenes jobs of us supports.
We exist people!
The rest of the lecture was standard fare. Rules. Dorm expectations. Mana conduct codes. Battle etiquette. How not to blow up the alchemy lab.
And finally…
"Your class schedule will be posted this evening," Professor Verres said. "Training assessments begin tomorrow. Dismissed."
She turned and left without another word.
The moment she was gone, the room exhaled.
Johnson had finally went to sleep.
I grabbed my bag and moved before anyone could corner me. Out the door, through the hall, down the stairs.
I just needed to get to my dorm, lock the door, and breathe.
And maybe scream into my pillow.
Because even though I said I'd stay out of trouble…
Trouble was already seated next to me.