The Support Ate it All-Chapter 570: ?Gyu?

The next day.

Dang Gyu-young and I got summoned by the principal.

Seemed like there was one last thing to discuss.

On the way to the principal’s office together, a question suddenly came to mind, so I tossed it out.

“Have you decided on your alias?”

“Yeah. I thought about a bunch of options, but in the end—”

Dang Gyu-young did an exaggerated badum-badum-badum! drumroll at the empty air.

Then she said one of the candidates she’d narrowed down before.

“—Gyu-ri. What do you think?”

“It’s solid. Nice and safe.”

“Mm-hm. Not too plain, not too flashy.”

“And your last name?”

“.......”

She closed her mouth at that, then turned to me with a deep, lingering look.

The corners of her lips slowly started to curl upward.

“.......”

“You’re getting suspicious really fast.”

“Kim Ho Kim Ho~”

Dang Gyu-young slid an arm onto my shoulder.

In a soft, suggestive voice, she continued.

“Some places say that when you get married, you take the husband’s last name.”

“That does happen, but aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

“You don’t know what a rehearsal is? You get used to it in advance.”

“Let’s be serious and decide properly.”

Dang Gyu-young puffed her lips out.

“Why won’t you play along? That hurts.”

“This is where we should be serious. You said you’ll be using it for a long time.”

“Seriously, ‘Kim’ isn’t bad.”

“It isn’t.”

“Say it once.”

“Kim Gyu-ri.”

Dang Gyu-young folded her arms and frowned.

“...That’s not the vibe.”

“What were you expecting?”

“Do it again. This time in that gentle-senior tone.”

“There you go again. Role-play.”

“Ah, come on—work with me!”

“Fine.”

If I didn’t, she’d sulk for real.

And it wasn’t even that hard a request.

I stepped closer to her, met her eyes,

then lowered my voice into something syrupy and downright greasy.

“Gyu-ri... wanna go get coffee with oppa?”

“PFFHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Feels like Gyu-ri keeps making oppa suffer.”

“Hey—stop—PHHAHAHA!”

“If it’s gonna be like this... I guess I have no choice but to kidnap our Gyu-ri.”

“PHHAHAHA!”

Face burning red, Dang Gyu-young kept smacking my shoulder—SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.

After laughing herself half to death, she finally took a deep breath.

“Ah, my stomach hurts. I laughed too hard.”

“Looks like you liked it.”

“If you take out just a little of the grease, it’s perfect.”

“I did exactly what you asked.”

“What is this, a monkey’s paw?”

She grabbed my hand, then pretended to examine it closely.

“...This is Kim Ho’s hand.”

“It’s my hand. And why are you interlacing our fingers?”

“It was natural. Move on.”

She answered shamelessly and kept walking.

All while swinging our interlaced hands back and forth.

Not long after, we reached the door to the principal’s office.

Just as I was about to knock, a familiar voice drifted from inside.

“It’s open. Come on in.”

So we stepped in without hesitation, and the usual principal’s-office scene greeted us.

The principal lounged in his chair like a freeloader, flipping through paperwork halfheartedly.

The vice principal, meanwhile, processed work at an insane speed—shooting sharp looks in between to hurry him along.

Then, like he’d decided this was his chance, the principal practically tossed the papers aside and greeted us.

“You took your finals there, huh. At the Flame Emperor Dragon’s place.”

“I heard you led a subjugation there in the past.”

“Khh... man. That time is still vivid. When I close my eyes, it’s like I can see it right there.”

The principal, fired up, started launching into a war story.

“The rules changed a bit, but back then it wasn’t a three-way fight. All three bases were on the same side.”

“Yeah, that’s what it looked like.”

Trying to brawl with an S-rank dragon in the middle? That was nonsense.

Finals only worked because it was an artificial dungeon and the Flame Emperor Dragon was set to a sleeping phase.

Originally, they would’ve surrounded the volcano from three directions and pressed in little by little.

And those sanctuaries were probably core components of a massive magic circle, too.

“We kept pressuring it, and eventually it couldn’t take it anymore and came charging out. Then these red things came swarming like a pack of dogs, and that’s when it really started. My party members were me and the vice principal and—”

“That’s enough.”

The vice principal cut him off in a flat tone.

“That is not why you summoned them.”

“Just five minutes—no, ten! Who else am I supposed to tell this to?”

“I don’t think you need to tell it at all. Please grow up.”

It wasn’t wrong, so the principal gave a few awkward coughs.

Then, still sounding a little reluctant, he got to the point.

“Ahem. You probably guessed, but I called you about the re-enrollment issue.”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

“I’ll give you the result first. It passed the meeting. There were some concerns since Student Dang Gyu-young has violated school rules a lot, and she’s also the president of the Thief Club, but—”

The principal grinned and looked at Dang Gyu-young.

“—handling that temporary storage facility incident well must’ve been a plus.”

“That’s a relief.”

“While we’re at it, I’d really appreciate it if you joined the disciplinary committee club too... Still not interested?”

“I’m sorry. I want to focus on my original goal.”

Dang Gyu-young’s stance was as firm as it had been when she’d heard the offer before.

The principal didn’t seem like he’d expected much anyway, and he moved on to the other details related to re-enrollment.

“Did you pick an alias?”

“Yes. I’m going with Kim Gyu-ri.”

This was my moment, so I shot her a subtle, greasy look.

Dang Gyu-young, remembering our role-play from earlier, abruptly started a “don’t laugh” challenge.

“Pfft...!”

“Student Dang Gyu-young?”

“Not—pfft.”

She clenched her teeth and glared at me like, Don’t. Seriously. Don’t.

The principal seemed to catch a whiff of something suspicious, but he didn’t press.

He pulled out a bundle of documents, flipped through a few pages to confirm, then handed them to her.

“Read these ahead of time. Before the semester starts, come in about a week to a week and a half early.”

“I will.”

“That’s it for business. I’m just curious—where are you going during break?”

“We’re going to the Dang family together.”

“I see.”

The principal nodded slowly at my answer.

Then he said, face turning serious.

“Be careful. You’ve been hearing outside news, right?”

“Yes. We have.”

“Lately, over there—around the Dang family—the atmosphere’s gotten especially nasty.”

“Because of the Blood Cult?”

“Yeah. Up until now, they leaned toward doing things quietly, under the table.”

The Blood Cult’s power, as a single organization, was overwhelmingly strong—but on a global scale, they were still far behind.

They knew it too, so whenever possible, they moved under the surface without revealing themselves.

Even the elders who infiltrated Dungeon Island this year had been like that.

The principal scratched the back of his head.

“But these days they’re doing it completely out in the open. Makes # Nоvеlight # you wonder if that Blood Cult Leader bastard got hit with qi deviation or something.”

Because they were expanding their influence so recklessly, the Blood Cult’s own losses weren’t small—

but a huge number of sects caught inside their reach weren’t escaping either, suffering annihilation or forced closure.

Some might have submitted.

And if the public’s predictions were right, the Blood Cult’s next target would be the Dang family.

The principal shrugged at me.

“I figure you’ll handle yourself. And it’s not like the Dang family will fold easily. Still, I said it just in case.”

“Thank you for your concern.”

“Yeah. Enjoy your break.”

*****

After Kim Ho and Dang Gyu-young left.

The vice principal immediately went back to work, while the principal did stand up—but didn’t move on to anything else.

Not because he was trying to slack off a little longer.

It was because the next guests would be arriving any moment.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

First came a polite knock.

Then, when the door opened, the ones who stepped in were Lee Sudok and Seo Cheongyong.

The principal smiled and gestured to the seats across from him.

“Welcome. Have a seat.”

When the two teachers sat where the students had been sitting, the principal continued.

“How do you feel? After teaching this year.”

“It was a pretty fresh experience. They call it a golden generation, and watching them grow day by day—it was rewarding, and fun, too.”

Seo Cheongyong answered with his usual friendly smile.

Lee Sudok answered briefly as well.

“I feel similarly.”

“I didn’t expect even you to say that, Teacher Lee. That’s surprising.”

Something gleamed in the principal’s eyes.

Originally, Lee Sudok hadn’t welcomed the teaching job at all, so they’d had to attach some rather excessive conditions to recruit him.

There’d also been the pressure of his reputation as a former Hero.

He’d basically been forced into signing the contract, so there was no reason the job would suddenly become likable.

And from the rumors over the year, his work attitude and the way he treated students had been halfhearted.

So it was genuinely unexpected that he’d agree with Seo Cheongyong’s impression.

Lee Sudok spoke in an even tone.

“It’s only right to acknowledge what deserves acknowledgment. A few students’ growth was astonishing. They consistently exceeded expectations.”

Everyone in the room knew exactly who those “few students” were.

Seo Cheongyong smiled and added,

“You can’t help but look forward to it. What they’ll show next.”

“To be honest, that’s true.”

Lee Sudok nodded, but the principal didn’t miss it.

For an instant, Lee Sudok’s eyes had flashed.

Meaning the emotion aimed at the students wasn’t only anticipation.

And the principal’s guess was pretty accurate.

‘Competitiveness.’

A desire to test himself against juniors who were growing at a frightening rate.

He’d suspected something for a while.

The decisive trigger had been first-semester finals—Iron Maiden.

Lee Sudok had been assigned to defend the control room, confident that no one—no matter who—could break through.

Even if there were multiple rules tilted in the students’ favor.

But after a brutal fight, he’d lost the control room, and from that point on, he’d begun to truly acknowledge the students.

That they were qualified to be worthy rivals.

Whenever he watched the replay, certain thoughts kept surfacing.

—If it were me, what would I have done?

—Could I actually win?

But unfortunately, those remained hypotheticals.

And that competitiveness, with nowhere to go, only kept swelling.

The principal had picked up on that inner state to some degree.

With a gentle smile, he made a proposal.

“If you still have some affection left for Dragonslayer Academy... how about extending your contract a bit?”

“I’m fine with that. I’ll extend.”

Seo Cheongyong accepted readily.

Lee Sudok, on the other hand, didn’t answer for a while.

‘It’s understandable he’d hesitate.’

Extending the contract increased the chance of satisfying that competitiveness—

but it also meant taking on all the annoying obligations that came with being a teacher.

Was it really worth going that far?

Of course, you could always make it worth it.

The principal spoke a condition.

“As you know, they aren’t easy kids to control. If you would take the homeroom again in second year, Teacher Lee, I’d be grateful.”

“...!”

And Lee Sudok seemed to bite the bait.

You could tell from the way his eyes sharpened.

After thinking a little longer, he looked at the principal and said,

“I want to add one more condition.”