The Conjurer of the Academy

Chapter 53

“First, I want to say this: thank you very much.”

Seo Geum-bi, sitting across from me in the cafeteria, bowed her head. I quickly reached out to stop her.

“There’s no need to go that far. You’re even treating me to a meal.”

“Normally, I would want to treat you to something more expensive instead of just using a meal voucher…”

“No, I’m struggling financially, so this is more than enough. Thank you.”

I barely held back the tears. Given Yomi’s insatiable appetite, I was grateful even for a single meal voucher.

“Then, please listen while we eat. Since this is likely your first festival, I’ll explain how it generally goes and what our responsibilities will be.”

Considering how many times I have participated in festivals in the past, I probably know a lot more about them. Still, I nodded.

“The festival lasts for three days, with opening and closing ceremonies. Before the festival starts, each club and class prepares their own exhibits or performances. It could be a show or selling food like a café.”

“It’s only for officially registered clubs, right?”

Seo Geum-bi nodded reluctantly at my question.

“If you’re asking about the Occult Club, it’s not possible. It’s not an officially recognized club, and So-yeol, who calls herself the president, has to attend supplementary classes around the festival.”

I expected that.

Most of the time, when Jin So-yeol isn’t bothering me, it’s because she’s overwhelmed with supplementary classes.

“Our job is to handle complaints before and after the festival and to patrol regularly to maintain order, especially since disciplinary issues tend to arise during the festival.”

“I understand. How are the teams assigned?”

Seo Geum-bi tilted her head at my question.

“You and I will be working together, just the two of us.”

“Pardon?”

Did I hear that right?

When I asked again, Seo Geum-bi frowned.

“If patrolling with me is too burdensome, I can pair you with another member of the Disciplinary Committee.”

“It’s not that—”

What I was surprised about was that the method of assisting Seo Geum-bi differed slightly from the original event flow.

Even in scenarios where Seo Geum-bi was the main focus, we weren’t supposed to stick together all the time.

Originally, I would patrol with assigned Disciplinary Committee members in a set order, occasionally coinciding with Seo Geum-bi.

“I’m just worried about causing any trouble for you, senior.”

“I’ll guide you through the finer details, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“If that’s the case…”

I nodded.

Though it seemed like Seo Geum-bi might have another reason for this arrangement, I couldn’t discern it at the moment.

“I have some other matters to attend to, so I’ll be going first.”

Seo Geum-bi gave a small bow.

As I was about to stop eating and rise from my seat, she raised a hand to stop me.

“Let’s make a festival everyone can enjoy together.”

Her eyes sparkled like sunshine.

In the face of her pure goodwill, all I could do was nod.

“I’ll do my best.”

* * *

“Alright, if anyone has any ideas, speak up.”

Choi Tae-min, looking at his smartphone, spoke in a languid voice. Written in clumsy handwriting on the chalkboard were the words: “What Class B Wants to Do for the Festival.”

“Really, no one has any ideas?”

Maybe it was the aftereffects of the midterms, but no one seemed eager to speak up.

“Anyone, just give us some ideas. A nap café or something would be fine.”

Rarely seen, Choi Tae-min was truly at a loss. As expected, he seemed to want to take it easy on the day of the festival, suggesting something like a nap café.

Such an idea would likely be rejected by the student council even if it passed at the class level.

“Then how about Ha-baek gives us his thoughts?”

“Me?”

Lost in my own thoughts, I was startled when my name was called.

“What do you think we should do? As our class’s exemplary student, give us your opinion.”

“Exemplary student…”

According to Choi Tae-min, I was the first in Babel’s history to see such a dramatic increase in rankings, jumping from 299th to 5th place. So, it made sense.

“Hmm…”

Given the question, it was only natural to try to answer. But I couldn’t think of anything noteworthy.

‘It’s not like I can participate anyway.’

If I ended up following the route where I helped Seo Geum-bi during the festival, I wouldn’t be able to participate in class events or club activities.

In other words, I wouldn’t have the time to participate. Most of my time would be allocated to helping her.

‘The club is a lost cause anyway.’

Suddenly, I remembered the Occult Club was one of the worst choices because of its lack of festival activities.

It’s not an officially recognized club, and Jin So-yeol would be tied up with supplementary lessons, so one option was already off the table.

‘Anyway.’

While I was on the verge of being ostracized by the entire class, Yomi, with the carefree life of a yokai, was comfortably asleep on my shoulder.

‘Should I just go for it?’

Seeing Yomi, an idea suddenly struck me.

“How about a haunted house? It’s a safe bet.”

It wasn’t even an option in the game, and there was no way my suggestion would be accepted. We’re not kids to be doing haunted houses—

“Any other suggestions?”

“……”

The class fell silent.

Then Choi Tae-min nodded once and slapped the chalkboard with his palm.

“Alright, then it’s decided. We’ll do a haunted house. Ha-baek, you’ll lead the preparations with your classmates.”

For a moment, I could only blink in disbelief.

“What?”

* * *

“So, what’s the plan?”

After school, students gathered around my desk. Most of them were people I hadn’t had proper conversations with before.

‘Quite a few people.’

At least the ones gathered here were students willing to participate in the festival.

‘Has Cheon Tae-seong already left?’

Some students, including Cheon Tae-seong, had already gone home. Some preferred dedicating their time to their clubs rather than the class, so having about half remaining was a good turnout.

“But why me?”

It was only natural to be puzzled about why I was suddenly the head chief.

“Since you suggested it, naturally, you should take the lead.”

When a female student said that, the others nodded in agreement.

You stay silent and I toss out a suggestion, and you comfortably agree to let me bear the brunt.

“Well, alright…”

I had kind of expected this.

I began recalling the storyline of the game. I wanted to remember how scenarios usually progressed when class activities were involved.

“First, we need to divide roles.”

The very first and foundational step.

I looked around at the students one by one.

“Who wants to be a ghost?”

“….”

It seemed like this was where we needed to start.

“Then let’s decide by drawing lots.”

“I’m fine just being a staff member…”

“What about those who are unlucky?”

There were bound to be complaints even with a method solely based on luck. That’s when I thought of a solution.

“Seems like everyone is reluctant to play the ghost, so how about this?”

I raised my hand slightly.

“I’ll take on the ghost role first.”

“What?”

Everyone looked surprised.

Given that I took on a leadership role, I didn’t need to play the ghost. But I had learned something during the mock subjugation.

‘If I take the lead, no one can object.’

That was what I aimed for.

And it worked. The other students drew lots without further complaints.

“Ack, I got the ghost role! I wanted to try building a set for once.”

“Hey, then do you want to switch with me? I’ve always wanted to try this…”

Once roles were assigned, students started swapping roles amongst themselves. With mutual agreement, role exchanges were easily settled.

‘With roles roughly decided, the biggest problem remains.’

Creating sets for the event or making props for costumes would undoubtedly be difficult and laborious.

“Alright, so how should we structure it? Does anyone have any ideas?”

Without a basic plan, we couldn’t even begin making sets or props.

“Has anyone been to a haunted house a lot?”

“Hmm, yeah. It would be nice if we had something to reference.”

There was more discussion than before, but no productive conclusions emerged.

‘Maybe a haunted house is too unfamiliar a theme. It might be better to change the topic now.’

As I racked my brain with the other students…

“I have a brilliant, mind-blowing idea!”

A loud voice came from the direction of the door. Even before turning my head, I had a feeling this would be troublesome.

“Tada! Jin So-yeol is here!”

As expected, my bad feeling was never wrong.

“Weren’t you supposed to be in supplementary lessons, senior?”

“Hehe, of course, I skipped.”

“…Are you for real?”

Ignoring my bewilderment, Jin So-yeol walked confidently over to my desk.

“I couldn’t miss out on such a fun event as presenting Babel’s first haunted house!”

Ignoring the murmuring students, Jin So-yeol pulled out a chair and sat across from me.

“Seems like you’re having trouble? Let this occult expert, Jin So-yeol, help you out.”

“It’s not much, just figuring out how to structure it—”

“Take a look at this.”

Jin So-yeol pulled a thick sketchbook from her pocket and handed it to me.

‘Is she Doraemon or something?’

Is this some kind of skill? How does something like this come out of a pocket?

“I’ve prepared 100 themes suitable for a haunted house. From doll houses to Dracula’s mansion!”

“Did you skip your supplementary lessons to make these…?”

“Hey, no need to ask such nitpicky questions! Come on, take a look!”

Jin So-yeol passed the sketchbook around to the students.

“Oh, this is pretty cool.”

“Wow, the designs for the classroom size are all drawn out too?”

I hadn’t expected much, but the students expressed admiration as they looked through the sketchbook.

“Fantasy elements are great, but my recommended course is an oriental horror theme, like ‘Legends of the Old Town.’”

Jin So-yeol casually brushed her nose. I quickly glanced through the sketchbook as well.

‘This is amazing.’

The blueprints and designs were nearly professional-level. Well, as an occult enthusiast, she could be considered an expert in this field.

If she put this much effort into studying, she might easily get into a place like Harvard.

“The course you recommend is this one, right?”

“Yeah. Not bad, huh?”

A spooky village shrouded in mist.

A cursed village where legless ghosts of the dead and the specter of a girl who drowned in a well seek to make the living their companions.

‘This could definitely work.’

With Jin So-yeol providing blueprints tailored to the classroom size and a list of necessary equipment, preparations would be much easier.

“And there’s a top-tier piece of advice!”

Adding the finishing touch, Jin So-yeol raised her index finger. Initially, just a senior who appeared out of nowhere, Jin So-yeol had now become an authoritative figure.

I, too, listened to her advice for a successful event,

“Ha-baek, with your gloomy face, you’d make the perfect ghost girl!”

“I’m not doing that.”

It turned out to be another one of her unfounded claims. However, unfortunately—

“Oh, now that you mention it, he does have the right vibe.”

“Ha-baek would be perfect for it.”

The class started agreeing with her suggestion.

[Haha, you as the ghost girl is simply amusing!]

Even the one on my shoulder started laughing annoyingly.

“Alright, then this director Jin So-yeol will now officially—”

Just as Jin So-yeol’s wild suggestions were about to start in earnest,

“There you are, Jin So-yeol!”

“Gasp, Teacher!”

A burly second-year homeroom teacher appeared at the door. He marched into the classroom and grabbed the collar of Jin So-yeol’s coat.

“You’re in supplementary classes until the festival!”

“No, please, anything but that…!”

With that, Jin So-yeol’s short-lived triumph came to an end. For her, it might have been the real horror story.

“Save meee!”

Jin So-yeol’s desperate cries echoed down the hallway as she was dragged away.