Memorize Chapter 229

The course of events may vary as they unfold, but the source remains unchanged. Twisted branches eventually return to their origin, merging back into a single, grand flow. I won’t blindly trust this notion, but looking back, I realize I was too complacent when the future first diverged.

Regardless, the situation I face now is clear: time is running out, and I can no longer afford to just observe. That’s a fact. I’ve waited long enough—it’s time to move with the flow. But I need to leave room to pull out at any moment.

As the academy entered its 13th week, the conflict between the clans had escalated beyond mere tension, becoming a full-blown confrontation. After the eastern clans began their counteroffensive, the southern clans swiftly voiced their support. But it didn’t stop at mere endorsement.

They joined forces with the eastern clans, relentlessly criticizing Golden Lion’s overreach. They secretly contacted remaining clan members using those who had already defected, and as new defectors emerged, they stirred public opinion by denouncing Golden Lion in their respective cities.

Though Golden Lion outright denied Shin Tae-Seung’s corruption exposé, they surprisingly took a lukewarm stance on the defectors. Their only response was to play up their victimhood and emphasize it. Most defectors were lower-ranking members, so it almost seemed like they were letting those who wanted to leave go.

Instead, Golden Lion focused on pinning the godmother’s murder on the southeastern clans while steadily reclaiming the control they’d lost. The player academy was at the heart of this, with southeastern clan instructors increasingly placed on hold. As a result, the vacant positions were predictably filled by northwestern clan members.

Watching both sides attack without regard for defense felt, as someone put it, like a muddy dogfight. I suddenly understood why Go Yeon-Joo urged me to leave Babara. Seeing them exploit the godmother’s death for their own gain, without genuine mourning, would make anyone’s respect for them plummet.

Interestingly, the tide began to turn slightly in favor of the southeastern clans due to a single incident: a female defector from Golden Lion exposed a sex trafficking scandal. That woman was someone I knew—Seo Ji-Yoon.

To elaborate, Seo Ji-Yoon was one of the five academy graduates I trained with who received an offer from Golden Lion. She revealed that after joining, she was coerced into sexual relations by a scout and continuously harassed through despicable means.

The incident quickly became an uproar. Even in the sexually open Hall Plain, such acts were only acceptable when consensual—rape and coercion were not. Golden Lion, which had prided itself on strict discipline, was now implicated in such a scandal, shocking the general player base beyond words.

Unable to ignore this, Golden Lion issued an official statement. They claimed Seo Ji-Yoon’s relationship with the scout was consensual and branded her a coward who fabricated excuses to defect amid tough times. However, the public opinion favoring Golden Lion began to level out due to Seo Ji-Yoon’s tearful appeal.

Since then, though mostly lower-ranking, the number of defectors from Golden Lion has been steadily rising. Starting with the initial 17, the total had surpassed 30 and was nearing 40—roughly a tenth of Golden Lion’s remaining members.

Of course, the failure of the Iron Mountain expedition, the absence of the Clan Lord, and the godmother’s murder likely made some question Golden Lion’s future. But considering over half of the defectors were women, it was a stark testament to how rotten the clan’s internal culture had become.

While the outside world changed daily, the player academy remained quiet—or rather, it feigned calm. As time passed, the northwestern clans, having completed their internal audits, were cleared of suspicion and began returning to the academy. Meanwhile, the southeastern clans, still refusing audits, faced ongoing suspensions and further disciplinary actions.

The southeastern clans initially endured the suspensions well, but eventually, the hot-tempered Kim Duk-Pil caused a scene. Outraged by Golden Lion’s high-handed attitude, he protested why they should be subjected to audits. Though the Reverse Clan wasn’t a city-representative clan, it was targeted for audits due to its consistent criticism of Golden Lion.

But with Golden Lion repeating the same justifications, Kim Duk-Pil couldn’t avoid suspension. In the end, he left the academy with all Reverse Clan members, cursing as they went.

Golden Lion didn’t stop them from heading to the warp gate. Instead, they seized the opportunity to highlight the Reverse Clan, claiming they had “something to hide” or “lacked the qualifications to be instructors,” publicly condemning them.

Despite this, Golden Lion continued issuing suspensions, reducing the southeastern clans’ instructor positions—once nearly 70% of the total—to just three. Those remaining were Seo Jin-Woo and Yeon Hye-Rim, two of the Top 10, and Sung Hyun-Min, the Han Clan Lord. Rumors swirled that even they would soon be suspended, and their appearances as instructors were already dwindling.

Amid this rapidly shifting situation, I felt an urgent need to secure Baek Hangeol. I’d previously discussed his joining the Mercenary Clan, but his relationship with Park Hwan-Hee and Cha Yuna hadn’t been fully resolved. Given his impressionable nature, he might have been swayed by his girlfriend in my absence.

Honestly, I’d been thinking about it, but the chaotic environment had kept me from giving him the attention I used to. Since I was scheduled to support a training session where I could see him, I decided to talk to him after class.

But despite attending the magic talent training, I couldn’t find Baek Hangeol anywhere. I was baffled. After the session, I stopped a new player laughing with friends as they left the classroom and asked about Baek Hangeol’s whereabouts. The response was unexpected.

“Oh, that loser?”

“Loser?”

“Heh, yeah. He’s pretty infamous. Always hanging around the women’s dorms, waiting for his girlfriend who won’t even see him. He’s basically a wreck now.”

“Girlfriend? Did something happen between them?”

“Hmm, not sure. I’ve seen them argue a few times, but he’s not exactly noticeable, you know? Honestly, everyone’s given up on him. No idea what he’s gonna do after the academy… Tsk, tsk.”

“…Got it.”

The player clicked their tongue and left. It felt like just yesterday he’d vowed never to give up, yet now he was called a wreck. I instinctively knew something had happened while I wasn’t paying attention.

As I stood there, dazed, someone tapped my shoulder.

“Well, well, Mercenary Lord! Out here supporting training again? Thanks a ton! Hahaha.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Snapping out of my daze, I turned to see Jang Yoon-Ho grinning broadly. Unlike before, his face was alight with a cheerful smile. He’d been keeping a low profile, but with the southeastern instructors sidelined by suspensions, he seemed to be thriving.

“I’m getting a three-day break after this session. No training scheduled after today. What about you, Mercenary Lord?”

“I’ve got one more mental training session left.”

“Aw, that’s a shame. Tonight, the northern clan folks are gathering for a big drinking party. With the 13th week’s regular training ending today and the weekend break coming, everyone’s ready to go all night.”

“Regular training’s done, sure. But from what I know, starting this week, they’re holding extra sessions on weekends.”

“Oh, right. My mistake. Haha. But it’s fine. The weekend sessions are being handled by Golden Lion and western clan members, so we’re off the hook. Oh, by the way, do you have some time this weekend? A lot of my colleagues are curious about you, Mercenary Lord… How about joining us for a drink?”

Jang Yoon-Ho clearly wanted me to come along. But I had zero interest, so I brushed him off with, “I’ve got support duties scheduled for the weekend.” (And I really did—Saturday morning and afternoon were packed.) At my polite refusal, Jang Yoon-Ho looked disappointed but promised to catch me next time.

‘Better check on Hangeol right after the weekend support duties.’

Joining some drinking party wasn’t the priority. As Jang Yoon-Ho said, today marked the end of the 13th week’s regular training. That meant I should check on Baek Hangeol right after finishing the extra afternoon training support on the weekend. There had to be a reason he’d turned into a wreck—something he couldn’t talk about. Hoping my suspicions were correct, I let out a long sigh and left the classroom.

*

There was one thing all clans agreed on regarding the player academy: the training intensity had dropped significantly compared to before. They had only themselves to blame, but reviving the old sparring sessions now was too much of a stretch. So, extra training sessions were introduced as a substitute. The stated goal was to restore the new players’ skill levels, but to me, it looked like a desperate attempt to stretch the training period.

After finishing the tightly scheduled morning and afternoon support duties, I headed to the men’s dorm with some dinner I’d bought in advance. The dorm was empty when I arrived—everyone must’ve gone to eat. Recalling my time as a lifestyle instructor, I climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Reaching Baek Hangeol’s room, I was met with silence. Thinking he might not be there, I opened the door and peered inside. In one corner, a curled-up sleeping bag lay huddled. Instinctively, I knew Baek Hangeol was inside.

“Hangeol.”

“…”

“Hangeol? Hangeol!”

“…”

I felt a heavy weight when I touched the sleeping bag, but no matter how I shook it, there was no response. With urgency, I pulled the bag off and saw Baek Hangeol collapsed, eyes tightly shut.

‘Those bastards. They let him get this bad?’

Cursing inwardly, I yanked him out of the sleeping bag. His gaunt face, likely from not eating properly, kept catching my eye. The tear stains scattered across his cheeks fueled my anger even more. How could this happen to the one who discovered Divine Shield?

I placed my hand on his nose—thankfully, he was still breathing faintly. Immediately, I pressed my hand to his chest and slowly infused mana. As I nurtured his weakened insides, a strange feeling washed over me. What kind of ordeal had he gone through to be shocked into unconsciousness?

‘Did Cha Yuna really betray him?’

After tending to his insides for a while, Baek Hangeol’s eyelids began to tremble slightly. I poured in more mana to boost his vitality, calling his name repeatedly. My quick internal treatment seemed to work—soon, his eyes struggled open.

He stared into space with a confused expression. Then, noticing me beside him, he spoke through cracked, dry lips.

“Hyung…?”

“Yeah, Hangeol.”

“Hyung…? Hyung…?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry, Hangeol. I should’ve paid more attention…”

“Hyung…! H-Hyung, Hyuunng, Waaah…!”

At first, his voice was hoarse as he called for me. But after blinking a couple of times and fully recognizing me, he cried out desperately, tears streaming down his face. The bright, adorable kid from before was gone, replaced by a dry, sorrowful wail that filled the room with grief. For some reason, he looked unbearably pitiful.

I immediately pulled him into my arms, patting his back. Burying his face in my chest, Baek Hangeol sobbed endlessly, unable to do anything else.