019 Her Luck - Part 2 - Mark’s POV

We returned to the classroom after lunch. Mirai barely had time to breathe before Anna cornered her near the door, hands on her hips and a sharp look in her eyes.

"Where were you?" Anna demanded.

Mirai flinched slightly, then awkwardly rubbed the back of her head. "Uh. Lunch?"

Anna narrowed her eyes. "I looked for you."

Mirai winced. "Well… I was eating."

I tuned them out, summoning my armchair from my ring. As I sat down, I noticed other students dragging chairs from outside.

Huh. They were being resourceful.

I overheard grumbling from the side.

"The other classes don’t have to deal with this shit," one student muttered.

"Yeah, what kind of insane logic is this? A class without chairs?!" another complained.

I reckoned they were just bitter about missing out on the armchair rings Reina had handed out. I only recently learned how to use mine properly, and I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it. The damn thing turned into a ring, acted as storage, and somehow also transformed into a chair. Who even thought of this?

I glanced at Mirai, who was still dealing with Anna’s interrogation. She didn’t seem to know how the ring worked, so I gestured for her to pay attention.

"Here," I said, tapping the side of my ring. “It looks like you can store stuff in it rather conveniently.”

With a click, my armchair vanished into the small band on my finger.

Mirai’s eyes widened.

I placed my backpack on the desk, then pressed a small button on the side of the ring. Instantly, my chair reappeared.

Mirai blinked.

Anna grimaced. "Damn. I regret not getting one now."

Ron, who had just arrived, clicked the side of his ring and summoned his own armchair with an elegant motion, as if he’d done it a million times before. He sat down beside us, looking smug.

Honestly, this was peculiar technology. The person who invented it? Definitely smelled like crazy.

I looked around.

The seating arrangement was a mess, but the professors didn’t seem to care. When the next one walked in, it was clear that the professors didn’t really give a shit about the seating arrangement. I had a suspicion it had something to do with Master Reina… and this professor.

He had a tired look, messy hair, and wore a loose tie like he couldn’t be bothered to look presentable. He trudged to the front of the room, grabbed a piece of chalk, and lazily wrote his name on the blackboard.

Merrick.

No last name.

"Alright, settle down," he said, voice flat.

Some students were still pulling chairs from outside, but the class quieted down. I sat just behind Mirai this time. Anna had dragged an armchair from the next classroom and plopped down beside her. Ron was on Mirai’s left, as usual.

Merrick clapped his hands once. The sharp crack echoed through the room, and the last bits of murmuring died.

"Ground rules," he began. "One: don’t talk when I’m talking."

That was it.

No extra rules, no nonsense about attendance or assignments. Just that one statement.

I felt nervous for the first time.

This guy was way more tyrannical than I expected. Mom’s notes hadn’t done him justice.

"Now that we have that out of the way," Merrick continued, "let’s talk about what to expect in my class. ESP dueling, battle formations, enemy profiling, mind games—you name it, we’ll cover it. If you’re looking for a theory-based class where you can just write notes and coast by, you’re in the wrong place."

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed.

Yep. This was going to be a pain.

Merrick didn’t waste any time.

"There will be a ranking match in this class," he announced. "I expect all of you at the Combat Zone this Saturday. I’ve reserved a room for us."

A few students exchanged glances, but no one spoke up. Maybe they were too scared to break his one rule.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a thick wad of tickets. Then, with a flick of his fingers, the tickets zipped through the air, one for each of us.

I caught mine without trouble.

It was a ticket for a shared room.

I frowned. Shared room? Was this just for the ranking match, or were we expected to actually stay in the Combat Zone? Mom’s notes didn’t say anything about this.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Mirai studied her ticket, brows furrowed. "Shared room…?" she muttered.

Anna, sitting beside her, groaned. "Ugh, I hope I don’t get stuck with someone loud."

Ron, as usual, looked completely unbothered. He twirled his ticket between his fingers and shrugged. "This should be interesting."

Merrick didn’t waste any time moving forward.

“If you want to get a better grasp of tactical theory, I recommend reading The Art of ESP Warfare by Adrian Falkner,” he said, writing the title on the board. “It’s not required, but if you struggle, don’t come crying to me.”

A few students scribbled the title down, while others leaned back like they had no intention of reading anything extra.

He continued, “This semester, expect battle formations, real-time strategy exercises, and ESP dueling scenarios. I won’t tolerate tardiness. If you’re late, don’t bother coming in.”

No one dared to make a sound.

Then, just like that, class was over.

And then he walked back in.

“Alright, settle down,” Merrick said, not even pretending to leave. “I also teach Mathematics and Physics, so don’t go anywhere.”

I sighed.

Great.

This was probably my worst subject.

I listened, I really did. But the formulas, equations, and theoretical concepts? Yeah, my brain didn’t like those. No amount of dungeon survival or combat training helped me with this.

When the class started, Merrick had us take a pre-test. It was a disaster.

Mirai looked at my paper and gave me the most pitiful look. “Oh…” she whispered, like she just saw a kitten get run over.

“Hey,” I muttered. “Stop that.”

Anna? She straight-up laughed.

“Oh, shut up,” I grumbled.

Ron, being the ever-gracious prince, patted my shoulder. “You’ll do better next time.”

Screw them both.

Merrick barely spent fifteen minutes wrapping up Tactics & Strategy before diving straight into Mathematics & Physics.

Which meant we had a full hour and forty-five minutes of academic torture.

The pre-test was already bad, but now? We were expected to apply the concepts.

The man wasn’t playing around. He handed out another set of test questions, and the moment the papers landed on my desk, I felt my soul leave my body.

I stared at the equations.

I stared harder.

Yeah, no. My brain refused.

Drop me into any dungeon.

Make me fight any kind of cryptid.

Make me punch stuff.

I’d manage somehow.

But this?

This was actual suffering.

Across from me, Mirai was writing away, no hesitation.

Ron looked focused, scribbling his answers with that same princely composure.

Anna, for all her smugness, had her head propped on one hand, lazily solving problems like they were no big deal.

Meanwhile, I was still on question one.

I tapped my pencil against my desk, debating whether brute force could somehow solve math.

Spoiler: it couldn’t.

Esper Ethics & Psychology was next.

We were greeted by a familiar face—Professor Brady Collins, in all his bald-headed glory.

The man grinned at us, radiating enthusiasm as he held up a stack of papers.

“Alright, class! We’ll start things off with a pre-test!”

I groaned.

Another one?

This bald f—

Seriously, why was every professor like this? To be fair, it wasn’t everyone. There was the crazy exception after all.

We were handed the test, and I flipped through the questions, my confidence evaporating by the second.

I was failing ethics.

How in the world was I failing ethics class?

Mirai peeked over at my answer sheet and sighed. “Wow. You really suck at tests, huh?”

Ron patted my shoulder like some wise older brother. “Don’t worry, Mark. You’ll do better next time.”

Jerk.

Anna, on the other hand, was laughing—way harder than before.

She even pointed at one of the essay questions, tears in her eyes.

The prompt was simple:

“You see an old woman walking down a pedestrian lane. A mugger attacks her. What do you do?”

Easy. I had real-life experience with this.

I confidently wrote down my answer:

1. Incapacitate the mugger.

2. Frisk the grandma to check if this was a scam or trap.

3. If it wasa trap, beat up the grandma too.

4. If it wasn’ta trap, ask the grandma for a reward before helping her cross the street.

Anna wheezed.

Mirai buried her face in her hands.

Ron just stared at my paper like he was witnessing a tragedy.

“Mark.” Mirai’s voice was muffled. “What is wrong with you?”

“What? That’s just common sense.”

Mirai groaned.

Anna was still laughing.

Ron cleared his throat. “I… I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Professor Collins suddenly loomed over my desk, reading my answer out loud to the class.

There was silence.

Then, he slowly nodded.

“Well, Mr. Valentine… I appreciate your unique approach to ethics. But for the record, maybe don’t assault grandmothers. Even if you suspect them of fraud.”

I slumped in my chair.

This was gonna be a long class.

I had already started the grandma essay. Might as well finish it.

So, I added a final note.

5. If the grandma turned out to be a cryptid, slaughter her.

There. Perfect.

Satisfied, I breezed through the remaining essay questions. By the time I got back to the multiple-choice section, I felt more confident. Maybe I wasn’t totally doomed after all.

Professor Collins collected our test papers and started grading them right in front of us. Five minutes later, he returned them.

I glanced at my score.

…I failed.

Anna peeked at my paper, took one look at my score, and guffawed.

“Oh my god, Mark, how do you even—”

I snatched her test before she could react and flipped to her grandma essay.

Then, with the most dramatic voice possible, I read it aloud.

“‘If I saw a grandma getting mugged, I would step in to protect her. However, I must consider the possibility that this is a psychological test. If I intervene too soon, I may be disrupting a controlled experiment. If I intervene too late, I would fail this question. Thus, I must analyze all factors and—’”

I squinted at the bottom of the page.

“‘—ultimately decide that I should tackle the mugger first, and then, just to be safe, tackle the grandma too.’”

The class went silent.

Anna’s entire face turned red.

I smirked. “Wow, Anna. You also failed the grandma question. What a coincidence.”

She lunged for her paper. “Give that back, you asshole!”

I dodged easily, spinning my chair away.

Anna tried to kick me under my desk.

She missed.

I grinned at her. “A hundred years too early to land a hit on me.”

Anna groaned in frustration, while Mirai just sighed and muttered, “You’re both idiots.”

I smirked. Mom would be proud.

Mirai sighed, shaking her head. “It was obvious. You have to tackle the grandma first.”

I blinked. “Wait, what?”

She crossed her arms. “It was a test of reverse psychology. If they’re asking you about helping a grandma, then obviously, the real answer is to suspect the grandma first.”

I frowned. “Okay, now I have to see your test paper.”

Before Mirai could react, Anna snatched it from her hands.

“Hey!” Mirai protested.

Anna grinned like a cat that caught a canary. “Let’s see how our little moral compass did, shall we?”

I peeked over Anna’s shoulder as she flipped through the pages. Mirai had a decent score—way better than mine.

Except… the essay section.

I smirked. “Oh? What do we have here?”

Anna burst into laughter. “No way!”

Mirai turned red. “Give it back!”

I leaned closer. “Wait, wait. Did you also fail the grandma essay?”

Mirai tried to swipe her paper back, but Anna held it high above her head.

“‘If I saw a grandma getting mugged, I would assume it was a distraction tactic and tackle her first to neutralize the potential threat. Then, I would restrain the mugger, verify all possible hidden accomplices, and—’”

Anna paused.

“‘—demand the grandma explain herself before deciding whether to help her cross the street.’”

I burst out laughing.

Ron, who had been minding his own business, finally looked over. “Wait. You guys all failed the same question?”

Anna cackled. “Not all of us. Just the idiots.”

“You are one of those idiots,” I added.

Mirai finally wrestled her paper back and buried her face in her arms. “I hate this class.”

I patted her shoulder. “Hey, at least we’re in this together.”

She groaned. “That doesn’t make it better.”