Creator’s Favoritism

The lecture hall where all the students gathered to attend the Gate Theory class was closer to a small university seminar room than a classroom.

As it was the first class of the new semester, the teacher was particularly passionate, making eye contact with each of the new students as she delivered the lecture.

“Starting with the opening of the gate in Korea on October 10th, 16 years ago, full-scale gate disasters began to appear worldwide… What was the content of the system message that occurred at that time? Anyone from the second year want to answer?”

Pyo Eonsu, sitting in the very front row, readily raised his hand.

“‘The Tutorial of Disaster has begun.'”

“That’s right. Now, what exactly this ‘tutorial’ means is still debated among experts…”

It was then that the slime, carefully tucked into the pocket of my school uniform skirt, poked its head out as if unable to bear the boredom.

“Nemo, you stay in there,” I whispered quietly, pushing the slime back in as it kept trying to escape.

The slime wasn’t the only thing disrupting her studies.

[Tito finalizes practice partners to maximize character chemistry.]

I slightly rolled my eyes to check the first-year students attending the class. Since hunters operated in pairs, it was clear that practical classes would also be arranged in groups of two.

If I became partners with Kang Chagyeong, I could at least worry less about screen time. Or Lee Chan-yu would be fine too. After all, to get my face on the webtoon panels more often, it seemed better to partner with higher-ranked characters.

Meanwhile, after showing a brief documentary summarizing the first occurrence of the gate, the teacher began explaining about hunter rankings in Chapter 1 of the textbook.

“…In the end, the academic consensus is that skill rankings are determined by how much they contribute to the survival of the skill user. For example, powerful attack skills have high rankings, whereas… Sun-woo, what’s your unique skill?”

Surprised by the sudden mention of her name, she was fortunately able to answer the question easily.

“‘Human Deserving Death.'”

“Right. ‘Human Deserving Death’ makes the skill user the primary target of monster attacks. While that might help in the overall battle, it certainly doesn’t help the individual’s survival, hence it’s F-rank. Any questions?”

“Are there F-rank attack skills too?” Hyun So-ra quietly raised her hand and asked.

The teacher nodded and continued her explanation.

“They’re rare, but they do exist. However, if an attack skill is F-rank, it won’t be effective against D-rank or higher entities, so its versatility is very low. F-rank skills are rare to begin with. Any more questions?”

The teacher then taught practical information that could be used in combat during gate occurrences, and methods for civilian rescue. This was markedly different from regular schools that mainly taught evacuation procedures.

It wasn’t until the class ended that I remembered the ‘practice partners’ Tito had supposedly decided. I pondered the upcoming developments.

Perhaps Tito intended to give each pair of characters their own trials. Getting them involved in gates, big and small.

It was the most stable plot development, allowing partners to cooperate and show their character traits to the readers.

* * *

After lunch, it was time for physical training, and the fitness room we entered was massive—about three times the size of the main school building. 

A trainer was assigned to each of us, matching our ability scores, and we were introduced to various pieces of exercise equipment and striking techniques.

But while most of the other kids were just tired, my trainer seemed to have a special gift for making everything feel like torture, all while keeping a smile on his face. 

By the end of the session, everyone looked like they were barely holding on, sprawled across the floor of the fitness room like empty husks.

Only one person approached us with any sign of life—our homeroom teacher, Lee Je-gwan. He looked completely unfazed by our exhaustion, which somehow made everything worse.

“Did the first-years handle their classes alright? Surely none of you fell asleep on the first day, right?” he teased, standing over us.

We were too worn out to respond, so we just stared blankly at him, hoping he wouldn’t expect much.

“Alright. I’m here to announce your practice partners for the upcoming practical class. First, Kang Chagyeong.”

My heart skipped a beat. If I could be paired with Chagyeong, it would be perfect. We’d already built good chemistry when we awakened together in Yeouido. I silently prayed that Tito had noticed this and would pair us up.

“Chagyeong, you’re with Chan-yu. Remember, you’re in the Gangbuk branch.”

Wait, what? Chagyeong with Chan-yu?

It wasn’t a pairing I had anticipated at all. Tito was probably busy working out their partnership in the webtoon panels as we spoke, which meant my shocked expression would likely be left out of the frame.

“Next, Hyun So-ra and Hong Ji-sang. You two are also in Gangbuk.”

At this point, it became clear who my partner would be. Yeo Wook seemed to realize it too, as he glanced over at me, already resigned to the outcome.

“Lastly, Yeo Wook and Sun-woo. You’re assigned to the Gangnam branch. And there are only two of you, so absolutely no fighting.”

Yeo Wook, ever the optimist, flashed a grin and raised his hand toward me. His smile, combined with his annoyingly good looks, made me internally sigh. With a face like that, I had no doubt he’d capture most of the godly readers on looks alone.

‘I really hope I don’t end up being the sidekick here,’ I thought to myself, feeling the weight of expectations. Before I could dwell on it further, our homeroom teacher’s voice snapped me back to reality.

“Change into your combat uniforms and assemble in front of the main building by 3 PM. If you’re even a minute late, you’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

The warning was clear, and judging by the teacher’s no-nonsense tone, I knew he wasn’t joking. It was time to prepare.

* * *

Exactly one hour later, Yeo Wook and I were sitting in the Gangnam branch building of the Gate Disaster Response Headquarters, clad in crisp white combat uniforms.

Yeo Wook had a patch with the Samun Electronics logo embroidered on it, while mine bore the Sky Children Foundation logo just below the Korean flag on my left arm.

After a brief orientation on how to use body cams and earpieces, our supervisor, Sung Kyung-min, arrived. I vaguely remembered him from the Yeouido gate cleanup site where I had been involved.

“I’m Sung Kyung-min. I’ll be your supervisor during the one-week probation period. Nice to meet you,” he said, giving us a quick nod.

After the introductions, Kyung-min led us outside the headquarters. We walked for about ten minutes until we reached Hakdong Station, which was cordoned off with police tape.

Stopping in front of Exit 1, Kyung-min flashed his government ID at the police officer on guard.

“These are new hunters. We’re here to mobilize them for gate damage recovery work,” he explained.

The young officer, looking a bit overwhelmed, gave a slight bow and stepped aside to let us through.

“What do you think is the most important virtue for a hunter?” Kyung-min asked, turning to us.

[Tito flips through his sketchbook, searching for doodles to reference for new monster designs.]

“…Combat ability, I guess?” Yeo Wook replied, glancing at me as if seeking validation. But Kyung-min shook his head.

“Wrong.”

[Tito chews on the end of his tablet pen, pondering how many wings to give a flying monster.]

“It’s the duty of rescue. No matter what happens, you should deploy with the mindset of saving one more civilian.”

Kyung-min’s tone was serious, and I could tell he meant every word. Civilians, unlike hunters, were utterly defenseless against monsters, and his emphasis on the “duty of rescue” hit home.

If only there weren’t these ominous narration boxes; I wished I could listen to more detailed stories without the distraction.

At that moment, a clear sound rang out like a bell, and a system message appeared in front of us.

[SYSTEM: A gate has opened in Ahyeon-dong, Seodaemun-gu, Seoul.]

Kyung-min’s expression turned grave as he pressed his lips together tightly.

“You two, wait here for five minutes. I’ll be right back.”

It was obvious he was leaving in response to the gate that had just opened.

Without waiting for our acknowledgment, Kyung-min sprinted away, leaving Yeo Wook and me standing awkwardly in front of Exit 1.

[Tito draws ‘Lee Chan-yu’ pulling out a whip from her waist. As the wind wildly tousles her hair, he tries to depict her shining eyes as attractively as possible.]

‘Looks like Chan-yu is taking all the screen time for this episode.’

[Tito draws a monster screaming with its wings cut off after receiving a blow from ‘Lee Chan-yu.’]

Strangely, Kang Chagyeong, who should be in the same place, wasn’t mentioned at all. I had sensed something was off since the ability assessment on the first day of school, but it was clear now that she couldn’t fight properly.

It seemed that this episode was set to impress the godly readers with Chan-yu’s cool performance.

As I was predicting the development of this