Academy’s Black-Haired Foreigner

Prologue

The Weakest Hero is the Savior of the World.

Japan’s web novel site ‘Let’s Be Light Novel Authors’ annual bestsellers rank No. 1, with series sales exceeding 40 million copies!

Final season anime adaptation confirmed after seasons 1, 2, and 3! This light novel is insane! Maintaining the number one spot for three consecutive years!

This work, affectionately known as “The Weakest Hero,” was my favorite light novel.

Just yesterday.

[My novel is banned in Korea and China, how primitive www]

[Not just Korea and China, but the readership in Japan is also primitive ww]

[Today, the primitive readers are indulging themselves with money www]

[For the low-tier readers, instead of meddling uselessly in my masterpiece, just shut your mouths ww]

[(Picture) Dealing with the fan letters that come every day is annoying; they’re all trash ww Trash goes in the trash can ww]

Today, the moment RIN, the author of “The Weakest Hero,” revealed their hidden SNS account.

I felt like I was buried at the bottom of the trash can.

“F*ck this.”

Curse words spilled out.

A wave of rage washed over me.

I bought the book in limited first edition, imported the anime Blu-ray, bought all the merchandise—comics, figures, drama CDs, even the setting book, filled out the Tree Wiki articles, and even camped out overnight at the event venue when the author visited to get my book signed.

And this is how they repay the time, money, and effort I poured in?

“Isn’t that the fan letter I sent?”

The trash can confirmation pic posted by the author had my letter in it.

Old memories came flooding back.

I remembered carefully picking out stationery for writing to the author, painstakingly translating my thoughts and sending it through international mail.

No reply came, but I figured that’s normal for such a popular author.

But to stab me in the back like this?

“This bastard…”

I should’ve bailed when the only Korean character, Kim Deok-Sung, was portrayed as a pathetic loser in the story, causing chaos online.

Now, my past of spending precious time keyboard battling those who defended the author seems utterly shameful.

“You’ve crossed the line…”

An author treating readers like pigs?

I’d only heard about it.

But experiencing it firsthand made my head spin.

I laughed in disbelief.

“Damn it.”

No amount of cursing could calm my anger.

I pounded the keyboard with rage.

5700 characters of fury loaded into the chamber.

With trembling hands, I clicked the mouse button.

The 5700-character note, having passed through the Korean-Japanese translation, launched into the author’s SNS inbox.
The writer’s DMs on SNS blast open.

Huh? It shows that it’s read.

I can even see the ellipsis.

Notification that the writer is typing a reply.

“Eat shit.”

I block the writer’s ID.

I don’t want to hear any excuses.

After getting loads of curses and getting blocked, they must be pretty pissed off too.

It’s about time. But honestly, that’s nothing compared to the crap I’ve been through.

“Phew.”

I try to calm my boiling heart.

I turn my head. The poster of the weakest hero is stuck on one wall of the one-room apartment.

I can’t believe I spent money on that trash, buying all twenty volumes to completion. It makes me want to lose my mind over how wasted that cash was.

“I should just burn them all tomorrow.”

Maybe that would relieve some of this pent-up frustration.

I check the clock.

It’s already 1 AM. Time to hit the sack.

I close my eyes, desperately trying to suppress the boiling inside me.

When I finally wake up the next morning, what greets me is—

“What the hell?”

An unfamiliar ceiling.

Right from the get-go, a hellishly difficult academy tale.

As a hardcore fan, it’s my absolute favorite genre in web novels.

I’m following the paid series to the letter, and my locked favorites list is overflowing with those lousy academy stories.

But I never expected I’d actually experience being reincarnated like in a real academy story.

“I’m the reincarnator?”

My gut twists with frustration.

Three days.

That’s how long it took me to accept the fact that I’ve reincarnated into the world of the light novel, “The Weakest Hero is the Savior of the World.”

“Dammit.”

I look in the mirror.

A black-haired boy, looking like a schemer, glares back at me.

“Kim Deok-Sung.”

That’s the name of the character I’m stuck in.

I recall the original setting.

‘The only Korean named character in the weakest hero story.’

Officially recognized as the only hope of the heroic weak nation, Korea.

The only Korean student at the academy.

In the original work, his first role was as a combat power measurement device.

In the first volume, Kim Deok-Sung gets all worked up with inferiority complex against the main character, Yuji, and gets utterly wrecked.

‘Normally, a side character like this would be exiting at this point, but…’

The writer, however, shatters expectations by reusing Kim Deok-Sung in volume 10.

Of course, this recycling isn’t of the positive kind.

‘The reappeared Kim Deok-Sung becomes the main villain in volume 10. Driven mad by the inferiority from his defeat in volume 1, he sells his soul and gains powerful equipment to terrorize the academy.’

Thanks to this, he momentarily traps the protagonist in a crisis, but ultimately meets his end at the hands of the awakened protagonist.

He dies a pathetic villain, still filled with jealousy until the very end.

And that’s the fate of Kim Deok-Sung.

What malicious setting it is.

Thinking about the stress-induced hair loss I suffered defending this online still grinds my teeth.

That damned writer, throwing me under the bus like this?

“The problem is, I’m that Kim Deok-Sung.”

I cross my arms and glare at the mirror.

My already dirty-looking image morphs into that of a sleazy scumbag from NTR manga.

I hate how I look, like a third-rate punk.

The best solution would be to simply not enroll in the academy.

If I don’t go to the academy, I won’t have to suffer. It’s ridiculous to be back in high school at my age.

The world ending? Salvation? Who cares.

That talented protagonist Yuji will handle it all, right?

There’s no need for an extra like me.

‘Isn’t that what the protagonist is for?’

But unfortunately, I can’t choose the best option of skipping enrollment right now.
I can’t choose the best option.

Kim Deok-Sung is the only hero candidate in South Korea.

As the last hope of the nation, all 50 million people are watching my every move.

I even have a fan club!

[South Korea’s Hope, Kim Deok-Sung! One day until entering Shuo Hero Academy!]

[Kim Deok-Sung’s suitability rating just came out as C-rank. Is South Korea finally escaping being a hero underdog? LOL]

[- Already national pride? LOL What kind of hero underdog escape for a hellish country like South Korea? LOL]

[- Don’t you know C-rank doesn’t even count as a hero?]

[- Japan starts at least from B-rank ㅅㄱ]

[- Come on, Japan fans! LOL]

Even now, if I turn on the internet on my phone, it’s all about me.

It’s not an exaggeration to say that all of South Korea is looking at me.

In this world’s Korea, there’s no alternative to me.

But what? Giving up on entering the academy?

“Just being able to keep my limbs intact is a blessing.”

That’s impossible.

If I even utter the word “give up,” all the favor and attention I’m receiving will turn into hostility.

If that happens, my life will change from a flower path to a path of flames.

I still haven’t figured out a way to go back to my original world, so there’s no need to make a foolish mistake.

So, I must quietly enroll in the academy.

However, there’s no reason to get swept away by the malicious flow of the original story.

Ding dong.

With the doorbell ringing, the intercom lights up and a polite voice is heard.

“Candidate Kim Deok-Sung. The item you mentioned has arrived.”

The backup plan has now arrived.

*

A middle-aged man in a suit delicately takes out a long case.

He gestures, and a bodyguard presses the button on the case.

Click, clap.

The case opens wide.

Inside the long case is a rusty sword.

“It wasn’t that difficult to obtain as you said, but why on earth would you want such an old artifact instead of something decent…?”

The middle-aged man with a Taegeukgi badge, the President’s secretary, cautiously asks me.

I pick up the longsword from inside the case.

“Well, since it’s all to make each other happy, there’s no need to delve into details, is there?”

“…Understood.”

As I disregard his response, I check the item.

It looks exactly like it came out of an anime. The genuine Durandal.

Guess my excessive demands from the state paid off. I can’t help but laugh.

“Impressive. Thanks for getting it.”

“No need for thanks. This level of support is only natural. Candidate Kim, you are the future of our South Korea. I’m actually surprised by your frugality in being satisfied with an old item.”

The secretary’s gaze shines seriously.

Three days have already passed, but I’m not used to the almost crazed expectations people direct at me.

I waved my hand dismissively and said, “From now on, it’s practice time. Please leave.”

“Understood.”

The secretary leaves with the bodyguard.

Clunk.

With a heavy sound, the door closes. I let out a sigh.

It’s so burdensome.

People expect too much; this is bordering on madness.

“Being the last hope really sucks.”

I grumble while looking at the old longsword, Durandal.

Durandal.

The legendary weapon sought by the main heroine, ‘The Platinum Knight Princess,’ Olivia Napoleon Bonaparte.

On the surface, it looks like a useless item, and in reality, it’s treated like junk and has just been gathering dust in a Japanese antique store.
But the reality is that it belongs to Raul, the Black Prince, a member of Five Crowns, the heroes who saved the world from a disaster 30 years ago, and the hero of France.

It’s the lost keepsake of Olivia’s cousin whom she admired, and from volume 5 onwards, it becomes her personal weapon.

The main story of the original volume 5 is a showdown between Kim Deok-Sung and his allies against the shadowy organization New World League, which seeks to seize Durandal.

“Not my problem.”

I mean it.

I really couldn’t care less about the original story.

The Black Prince is French? France that maintains a monarchy to this day?

And the weapon’s name isn’t “Durandal” but “Durandal”?

A French weapon in a Japanese antique shop?

It’s a convenient worldview that might raise some doubts about the author’s intellect.

This setting could get roasted in an alternate history community.

“What’s so different about a bunch of light novel clichés?”

I heard Japan’s favorite country is France, and it seems like the author must really like France too.

“Hope you catch the Paris Syndrome.”

With a sigh, I cursed the author under my breath.

Anyway, I need Durandal.

“First, let me live.”

Everyone in this country is counting on me.

Just like the presidential secretary who shot me those laser-like heavy glances earlier.

But what if I tank my academy scores?

I don’t even want to imagine that.

To survive, I need at least an average score.

So here’s the plan to seize destiny.

“Shit.”

The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it gets.

Honestly, it’d be better to just reincarnate as a random extra.

But why does it have to be a Korean?

What did I do to deserve this?

A 5700-character note?

That’s nothing compared to the author’s betrayal.

“Damn it, crazy author…”

I stood up, cursing the author.

To awaken Durandal, I need to feed the blade with blood infused with magic.

“Sigh.”

Me, who would pout just stepping on a Lego, self-harm?

Damn.

A rusty blade caught my eye.

What if I cut myself with that and get tetanus?

“Damn it…”

But I have to do it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and boldly pressed the rusty blade against my left hand while raising my magical energy.

Hummm.

The Magic Core resting in my chest heated up, supplying magic to my body’s magic circuit.

Wooooooom.

A warm energy enveloped my whole body. Excitement surged within me.

Magic.

A transcendent energy that turns humans into superheroes.

An unknown power surged through me.

“Ah.”

Just then, a sigh escaped my lips.

The rusty blade pierced my left palm.

“Cough.”

Pain shot through me.

Magic began to pour out through the wound like a receding tide.

The blade shone black.

Durandal gluttonously absorbed my magic.

“This damn sword…!”

I felt a mix of weakness and pain.

Even if I wanted to pull my hand away, it wouldn’t budge, stuck there like a magnet.

I grit my teeth.

It’s spilled water now.

Since I’ve come this far, there’s no other way but to become the master of Durandal.

“Let’s see who wins.”

I spat curses while enduring.

Thump, thump, thump.

My heart raced. The Magic Core felt ready to explode.

My magic circuit was overloaded.

My face burned. My vision distorted. Blood trickled from my lips.

Flash.

A light burst in front of me.

My vision darkened.

Consciousness flickered out like a fluorescent light.

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