People Can’t Be Fixed (1)

A businesslike atmosphere pervaded the sturdy building.

All the facilities of Hand, the academy exclusively for Awakened youths, were notably more reinforced than typical buildings.

A city that fostered young Awakened required such precautions as a necessity.

Recently, they had even started developing specific systems to control students when they acted out.

But no matter how solid the facilities, it was meaningless if the mindset of the administrators was not firm as well.

Students with the greatest talents from across the nation—indeed, the whole world—gathered here, all with sharpened teeth.

There was no guarantee that their always-reckless temperaments wouldn’t eventually be turned against the authority above them.

“What is the main agenda for this meeting?”

The man who could be called the principal of Hand’s high school division broke the silence.

Since he always had to deal with these sharp-edged children, his voice was severe.

The other principals of the middle school divisions, who sat beside him, were no different.

As a result, the clean room was filled with heavy air.

“As you all know, it’s been over a month since the freshmen’s entrance ceremony. At this point, you all must know what problems will start cropping up.”

The principal of Middle School 3 offered a report file as he spoke.

Beneath the title, the words “Dropout/Expulsion Student List” were written in small letters.

“Hahaha… It’s nothing new, is it?”

The principal of Middle School 4 laughed calmly as he pushed forward an identical report.

The other principals of Middle Schools 1, 2, and 5 all did the same, nodding in agreement.

“We have our fair share of wayward students at Hand, but it’s not as if there aren’t any sensible ones as well. The irony is, most of the names on this list are among the sensible.”

They enrolled in Hand either to become hunters or to learn to wield their powers more efficiently.

But if the environment didn’t support those goals, one naturally grew dissatisfied with the institution.

Could ordinary kids really adapt to an environment created by their off-balance peers?

“Most students enroll at Hand to tighten their loose screws. But right now, it’s a phase when nothing has been fixed yet. Those who can’t endure and end up leaving are the same as ever.”

Most of the names on the reports were students.

Many had grown weary, exhausted by fellow freshmen whose quirks hadn’t been corrected, and by upperclassmen who still acted out of control.

“Ah… Of course, the lists include those caught sneaking in alcohol, cigarettes, or dirty magazines, too.”

“So, what’s the count of students who left school in each middle division?”

“For us, it’s 81. Fewer than previous years.”

“65. Not much change from before.”

“70.”

“68.”

The principals of schools 1, 3, 4, and 5 answered in turn.

“That’s an improvement over previous years for everyone.”

“But we can’t let our guard down. If that number rises, our institution will only gain more notoriety as a delinquent school.”

Still, because it was no easy task, they all wore gloomy expressions.

No wonder Hand was sometimes called an asylum disguised as an educational facility.

Problems usually got fixed by high school, but for newly enrolled middle schoolers, it was pure hardship.

Strict, old-fashioned rules had been attempted before, but proved insufficient, and the faculty’s stamina had its limits.

Above all, they could never forget the fact that this place was a ‘school,’ not an asylum.

“It’s a truly complex reality. To reduce these problems, deploying security robots is urgent.”

“How far along is that?”

“About 80 percent. The research team reports that after several years of test trials starting this year, we plan to fully implement them.”

These robots wouldn’t run on electricity or solar but on mana stones acquired from within gates.

Just as the strength of the Hand’s facilities owed to mana stones, these robots would also boast excellent performance.

They couldn’t rely only on the competency of staff forever.

They must create an environment everyone—students and staff alike—could trust.

“By the way, principal of Middle School 2, why have you remained silent?”

Everyone turned to look at the principal from School 2.

Now that they thought of it, he hadn’t spoken up when student withdrawal numbers were discussed.

“The truth is, something quite shocking has happened at our school.”

“What is it?”

“Exactly 30.”

“What… do you mean?”

“I mean the number of dropouts.”

At that, the other principals all showed looks of amazement.

Sixty was already considered remarkably low, but thirty was a record-breaker.

“How on earth did you manage that…?”

“At first, we thought it was because we sent our top student, Michael, to the recovery facility, but there is another reason.”

The principal of Middle School 2 proceeded to mention one student.

Among the hundreds of students, this new prodigy had toppled ten of the school’s strongest sequentially, taking the top spot in Michael’s absence—a comet among the freshmen.

“After that student took over the school, the majority opinion is that life at school has improved.”

It was a testimony coming especially from the 2nd and 3rd-year students.

Given the source, there was a degree of authenticity.

“After reaching the top and showing every student the consequences, he now reigns over them… They say he’s like a Demon King.”

This, too, was a rumor quoted from among the students.

Zzwaarrr—

At that moment, the quietest man in the room moved.

He poured a red liquid, appearing to be wine, into his glass.

Seated at the most elaborate chair at the round table, he opened his mouth for the first time.

“Any special details about this student?”

“Pardon?”

Raven Holbat.

He appeared to be in his early twenties—a very handsome man.

He looked young enough to be called the son of any of the assembled principals, but he was, in fact, the chairman of Hand.

The principals were surprised and paid close attention as he moved.

“The only special trait is that he’s the son of a well-known prosecutor.”

“Could he be a Mutamit?”

Mutamit Awakened were as common as pebbles at Hand.

Though there was no need to ask, the chairman directed his question to the principal of School 2.

“He was not a Mutamit. He did not have horns or a tail, anything inhuman.”

“No horns…”

Raven’s voice trailed off in clear disappointment.

Feeling his faint hope dashed, he knocked back the drink in his glass.

At the scent wafting from his glass, those present furrowed their brows.

For in that moment, he looked less like a man drinking wine and more like one drinking blood.

****

Hand was surrounded by gossip and controversy, but it remained an established landmark in Korea.

As the highest-level Awakened education institution, its facilities were more luxurious than those in Hongdae or Gangnam.

“What a great street.”

I said this as I exited the theater with my friends.

The billboards lit up at the perfect moment as dusk fell.

Restaurants that doubled as eateries kept their lights on and business running late into the night.

The colorful lights shimmered off the beautiful flowing fountain.

If not for the couples sitting in front of it, it would have been an even nicer sight.

“There are more regular people than I thought?”

Kwon Sang-ah said, marveling at the difference from the street by day.

“Of course. It’s a spot more famous than Hongdae.”

“You think it’s safe? Surely, there are problem students everywhere.”

“You think every off-kilter junior Awakened only shows up at Hand?”

Just because strange kids were around didn’t mean this was automatically a dangerous area.

You’d run into Awakened outside Hand, too. If you’re too scared of Awakeneed, how would you even live in this world?

“And Hand’s security isn’t bad. Various guilds operate here. Worrying’s no use.”

Of course, hunter manpower had its limits when maintaining public order.

To supplement this, Hand was apparently developing something.

“Later, those security robots or whatever will be deployed for real.”

“Guess so?”

While I was chatting with Kwon Sang-ah, our group leader Sung Chohyang piped up.

“What do you guys wanna eat for dinner? My treat today!”

“Anything’s fine…”

“Ayy~ Just say what you want.”

Sung Chohyang wiggled her pixie antennae and pressed her face closer to Kwon Sang-ah, who smiled back.

Looks like they’d gotten pretty close at Hand.

“Pork cutlet for me.”

“Beef.”

“Udon.”

As the others, including Choi Sumin, said what they wanted to eat, Kwon Sang-ah joined in naturally.

“I’ll have pork belly.”

“What about you, Ma Seongjin?”

“Jajangmyeon for me.”

“Hm… That’s all over the place. Should we decide at the arcade with a game?”

Because of the split opinions, our group headed for the arcade, looking around as we walked down the street.

Back in college, I used to bar-hop down streets like this with my friends.

Maybe that’s why I had a craving for alcohol, but I had to resist.

One alcohol-related incident got you a warning as a student; a second meant expulsion.

‘Damn… I want a beer…’

As I practiced patience in my mind, I noticed the arcade.

Just as Sung Chohyang went inside, she bumped into someone standing at the entrance.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, watch where you’re… huh? Well, if it isn’t Sung Chohyang.”

“You…!”

A boy and a girl our age emerged from the arcade.

The moment Sung Chohyang saw the boy, her brows furrowed.

Everyone but me and Kwon Sang-ah responded similarly.

“Wow! Long time no see. How many months has it been?”

“…”

“I thought surely we’d cross paths at Hand at least once. I guess it really is a huge place.”

As Sung Chohyang scowled, Kwon Sang-ah whispered, curious.

“Who’s that?”

Choi Sumin answered, face dark.

“Our school’s top 1.”

Middle School 2, class 3-5, Michael Kang.

He was the upperclassman supposedly forced into a recovery center for his thuggish behavior.

“What are you doing here?”

Sung Chohyang asked sharply, and Michael grinned back.

“As you can see, I’m on a date with Emily. Guess you’re not dating anyone here, huh?”

“Move. I don’t want to see your face.”

“Why so cold? I’m being released next week.”

“What?”

At that news, everyone’s faces froze, especially Sung Chohyang’s.

Michael then turned to his female companion.

“Long time, huh? Been well?”

“Heek!”

The girl shrank back, frightened of Michael.

“What? I’m not going to do anything anymore.”

Maybe the recovery center worked, because Michael’s expression would look saintly to anyone.

His demeanor was warm, but Sung Chohyang blocked him and spoke.

“Don’t you remember what you did to her?”

I’d heard from Kwon Sang-ah.

Apparently, the boy had beaten her violently just because he felt like it—without even a word exchanged.

Because of him, the girl’s leg bone was fractured; only Sung Chohyang’s fairy-made medicine had kept it from turning catastrophic.

‘He broke her bone?’

Not even Choi Sangbaek, who started a fan club, ever stooped that low.

Fights at Hand stopped when someone surrendered or the battle was decided.

But Michael kept beating her even after victory was clear.

“Of course I remember. That’s why I’ll apologize sincerely.”

Michael got down on his knees and bowed his head in front of her.

“I’m really sorry.”

At that, Sung Chohyang’s expression relaxed slightly.

So did the girl’s, and the mood calmed.

“Michael, let’s go!”

“Got it.”

Emily, Michael’s girlfriend, pulled him up.

She hooked his arm, urging him on, and Michael followed her lead.

“See you next week, then.”

He’d apologized and finished recovery-facility life.

He didn’t even look villainous.

As he got dragged away by his girlfriend, Michael accidentally bumped into me.

“Ah, sorry. You a freshman?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you.”

With those words, Michael left with his girlfriend.

For some reason, seeing them walk away arm-in-arm disgusted me.

“You think he’s really changed for the better?”

“At least he apologized…”

“Did he even have money for games? I heard all his allowance was confiscated when he was sent away.”

“He looks fine, so he’s probably all right.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Just as we were about to agree he seemed improved, Kwon Sang-ah spoke up.

“Don’t be fooled, everyone.”

I said as I showed what was in my hand.

It was Sung Chohyang’s wallet; she gasped.

“Why do you have that?”

“I just took it out of his pocket.”

“What?”

When Michael bumped into us at the arcade entrance, I clearly saw him lift the wallet.

The others hadn’t noticed, but my eyes caught it perfectly.

And that wasn’t all.

Just now when we bumped into each other, he’d tried to steal my wallet, too.

So I returned the gesture, exactly as he had done.

“Changed, my ass.”

I shook the wallet I’d reclaimed from him and thought:

People really can’t be fixed.

————-= Clacky’s Corner ————-=

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep