[March 1, 2032]
[Today marks the entrance and reopening ceremony of the Korean Academy of Magicians. First-year entrance ceremonies and the reopening ceremonies for second- and third-year students will be held together. All students, please assemble at the Sage Hall Auditorium by 10:30 a.m.]
“Unbelievable.”
Shoving the smart student notebook back into my pocket, I felt my disbelief grow.
Everything was exactly as it had been seven years ago—the uniform, the school, the text message.
At this point, I had no choice but to accept the truth:
I had gone back in time.
“But still, why did Lee Seo-jun die?”
The events of the previous night came to mind, and I sank into thought.
Lee Seo-jun’s death must be the key to all of this. I’d seen it with my own eyes—the message about resetting the world following his death.
Yet, I couldn’t understand it.
In the original story, there was no reason for Lee Seo-jun to die. Even the second rampage of the evil dragon Cruas in the heart of Seoul had unfolded exactly as written.
If that’s the case, there must be some hidden reason behind his death.
“Hm…”
…
…
“Ah, I give up.”
Sighing, I slumped against the bench.
No matter how much I racked my brain, I couldn’t figure it out.
That previous life was over, and there weren’t enough clues in this one.
Sure, it seemed like there had to be some inevitable cause, but even that was just a guess.
A chilling thought crossed my mind:
What if Lee Seo-jun dies again in this life?
Would I just get thrown back into the past once more? Or would the world come to an end this time?
One thing was certain—if he died again, there’d be consequences.
So, there was only one answer.
This time, I couldn’t stay on the sidelines. I’d have to intervene in the main storyline or at least prepare for the event of his death.
“…Can I even do that?”
After seven years of living in hiding, the idea of stepping into the spotlight now made my confidence waver.
“Ugh, I should’ve spent that time gaining experience.”
Regret bubbled up inside me but was quickly suppressed.
Still, sorting through my thoughts brought a bit of clarity.
Okay, no need to rush.
After all, Lee Seo-jun’s death was still seven years away.
I had time.
Time to grow stronger, uncover the cause, or devise a solution.
Right now, the most important thing was the fact that I had gone back in time.
Which meant two years of reliving life at this accursed academy.
And today was the day of the entrance and reopening ceremony.
It was a major event, so I had to make my way to the auditorium without delay.
Laughter echoed from nearby.
Youthful energy and joy.
The lively atmosphere stirred a deep sense of alienation within me.
Could I ever adapt to this again?
The moment I stepped into the auditorium, the sight of the massive stage greeted me. The preparations for the ceremony seemed to be in full swing.
This academy had a unique tradition of holding the first-year entrance and the second- and third-year reopening ceremonies together.
Each grade’s representative would step onto the stage to recite the pledge—a tedious, predictable ritual.
Standing here now, the reality of being a student again finally sank in.
This would be my third time experiencing school life.
Once in my original world.
The second time, when I first got thrown into this novel.
And now, the third.
The first two times, I’d felt a mix of excitement and anticipation.
This time, there was none of that.
‘The second-year section is… Oh, over there.’
Each grade had an assigned seating area. I headed for the second-year section, which was about half full.
I picked a seat in the middle, leaning slightly toward the back—an inconspicuous spot that felt just right.
“Hmm.”
Looking around, I noticed several familiar faces.
Shin Young-joon, Lee Hyun-joo, and others—they were all key characters from Modern Mage.
And who else…
“Hey, is that guy a first-year?”
“Where?”
“Over there. The tall one with the thinning hair.”
“What the—? Is that a grown man?”
As I searched for more familiar faces, murmurs rippled through the auditorium.
I turned to see a middle-aged-looking man sitting among the first-years.
Despite wearing the same uniform, he stood out like a sore thumb.
A brave student approached him.
“Um, are you a new student?”
“Me? Oh, yes.”
“Can I ask your age?”
“I’m 17.”
“Ah…”
The student sighed.
Watching the exchange, I struggled to stifle a laugh.
That “man” was another major character.
First-year rank two, Jeon Min-gi.
A mage specializing in physical enhancement—and cursed with extreme premature aging.
Despite his appearance, he had a great personality and immense talent, making him a fan favorite among readers.
Though… he looked even older now than he did in the news coverage I’d seen a few days ago.
Screech!
The ear-piercing feedback from the microphone echoed throughout the auditorium.
Students winced and covered their ears.
In an instant, the noisy auditorium fell silent.
[Testing, testing. All students, please take your seats. The entrance and reopening ceremony will begin in three minutes.]
The event seemed about to start.
Students chatting in groups began to take their seats one by one. Empty seats gradually filled up. There were about 150 students per grade, meaning roughly 450 people gathered in the auditorium.
However, no one sat next to me.
As I awkwardly sat alone, I felt someone approach.
“Hi.”
A clear, feminine voice.
Turning my head, I saw a female student with long dark brown hair sitting beside me.
“Yoo Ara?”
Her serene beauty would captivate any guy. Yoo Ara, ranked second among the second-year students.
As I blankly stared at her, she seemed to notice my gaze and quickly turned to look at me.
“What? Do you have something to say?”
“…No.”
“Then could you please look somewhere else? It’s making me uncomfortable.”
That’s the kind of person Yoo Ara was. Polite but not particularly sociable.
She was fiercely competitive, treating all her peers as rivals and rarely opening up to anyone.
Especially with Lee Seo-Jun, she harboured strong competitiveness, always being second to him in school rankings.
[Now, we will begin the 2032 Korean Mage Academy Entrance and Opening Ceremony.]
The microphone’s voice echoed through the auditorium.
Students seated in their chairs nervously fixed their gaze on the stage.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Yoo Ara glaring at Lee Seo-Jun, who was preparing below the stage, with a ferocious intensity.
[Grade representatives, please come up to the stage.]
A brief silence fell.
Then, three students climbed onto the stage, and murmurs spread through the crowd again.
“Wow, the first-year top student is really pretty.”
“What’s her specialty?”
“Ice-element manifestation. But I heard she’s good with enhancement magic, too.”
The first to ascend was Choi Seo-Yoon, the top first-year student.
Though she didn’t play a major role in the main storyline, she occasionally aided Lee Seo-Jun in pivotal moments.
Her bright smile drew cheers from the male students. Most couldn’t help but be charmed by that smile.
But I knew—it was a calculated smile. She thrived on attention, one of her subtle quirks.
Following her was someone I knew well—the protagonist of this world.
Lee Seo-Jun, the top second-year student.
“There he is—Lee Seo-Jun!”
“Wow, he’s even more handsome in person than online!”
“His presence is unreal.”
“Didn’t Kim Jin-Cheol personally mentor him?”
“That’s how talented he is.”
When Lee Seo-Jun appeared, the first-year students’ eyes sparkled as if they were looking at a celebrity.
Despite still being a student, Lee Seo-Jun was already recognized among active mages as a once-in-a-generation talent.
The novel Modern Mage revolved around a protagonist who overshadowed everyone else—a true overpowered main character.
Finally, a slim, bespectacled male stepped onto the stage.
Kim Chang-Hyun, the top third-year student.
Compared to the two before him, he lacked the same striking presence. Truthfully, I didn’t know much about him. Even in the original work, his role was minimal.
[Now, the student representatives will recite the pledge.]
“Pledge.”
“Pledge.”
“Pledge.”
The pledges were dull. I glanced at Yoo Ara, who was still glaring at the stage with a sharp intensity.
Her competitive spirit was nothing short of extraordinary. She probably believed the stage was hers by right.
To be fair, I understood her feelings. Yoo Ara’s talent was second only to Lee Seo-Jun in the entire auditorium.
“Must be frustrating, huh?”
I casually tried to strike up a conversation.
No response. She was so focused on Lee Seo-Jun that she didn’t even register my comment.
…Well, this is awkward.
Just as I was about to give up, I heard her voice.
“Was that directed at me?”
Turning to face her, I saw Yoo Ara looking at me with a meaningful gaze.
“Yeah.”
“What’s so frustrating?”
“Honestly, I think you’re better than those two.”
It was a sort of flattery—a way of saying I recognized her potential.
Since I planned to involve myself in the main storyline, I figured forming connections early wouldn’t hurt.
After all, there were unique “benefits” to befriending key characters.
However, Yoo Ara responded with a sharp look.
“Wow, that’s bold. What do you know to say that? Have you even seen their magic?”
“No.”
“Then why are you making assumptions?”
“I can just tell by looking.”
“What?”
Yoo Ara’s expression froze in disbelief at my confident response.
“I’ve got good instincts.”
When I added that with a grin, Yoo Ara’s face twisted in irritation.
“Are you joking?”
“I’m not.”
Scoffing, she shook her head as if deciding I wasn’t worth engaging with further.
Her dismissiveness stoked a small sense of defiance in me. Should I push her buttons a bit more?
“Trouble deciding your career path lately?”
Her shoulders stiffened. She turned to me, her brow furrowed.
“You…”
[That concludes the student pledge.]
Before she could continue, the announcement signaled the end of the pledges.
The three representatives stepped down from the stage.
Yoo Ara, still staring at them, turned back to me.
“How did you know?”
I thought she’d deny it, but her candid reaction caught me off guard.
I couldn’t exactly say, “It was in the novel,” so I improvised.
“I told you. I’ve got good instincts.”
“This isn’t the time for jokes.”
“I’m serious. Why don’t you believe me?”
“Whatever. You probably guessed right by luck.”
Then she glanced at the name tag on my chest.
“…Kim Sun-Woo.”
She repeated it a few times, as if committing it to memory. The way she did so sent a slight chill down my spine.
“Kim Sun-Woo. I’ll remember your name. Don’t talk to me again.”
…Something felt off.
It was probably best not to provoke her further. Who knows what she might do if I did.