Chapter 3: The Mentee Who Shouldn’t Exist

Seong Jiwoo quickly realized that the reason he’d returned wasn’t because he was the protagonist— but because he was meant to support the protagonist.

He looked down quietly at Yoo Heero, who wore a flimsy name tag barely the size of his palm, the word Mentee scrawled on it in crooked handwriting.

Originally, Seong Jiwoo had no interest whatsoever in the school’s mentoring program, nor had he ever planned to apply.
But this time, the line “Students who apply as mentors will be counted as present even without attending lectures” suddenly sounded irresistibly sweet.

No more boring theory classes.
No more dragging himself through endless repetition.
And it was the perfect excuse to slack off a bit.
Sure, he’d have to drag around some clueless junior like a goldfish tail, but that didn’t sound too hard.

So, fearing someone else might snatch the chance first, Seong Jiwoo hurriedly put his name down on the mentor list—
and ended up being paired with a second-year student named Yoo Heero.

Yoo Heero’s attribute was Darkness, and his class type was Melee Dealer.
A bit of an awkward combination.
Then again, Jiwoo’s own attribute wasn’t any less peculiar.
Just hearing the word would make anyone go, “Okay, but… how do you even use that?”
Still, he figured Yoo Heero was probably managing somehow—like he had.

What baffled him most was that Yoo Heero’s stats were good.
Unbelievably good.
Rumor had it that only the lowest-ranked students ever applied to be mentees, yet this guy was an S-rank.

Jiwoo had expected a C or D-rank at best.
When he saw the report, he even wondered if there’d been a printing error and went to ask the supervising teacher directly.
But the teacher confirmed it—S-rank.
Oddly fidgeting as Jiwoo scrutinized the file, the teacher bolted the moment Jiwoo muttered, “Alright, got it,”
like someone who’d just handed off a live grenade.

Jiwoo was still too stunned by the “S-rank” revelation to notice.

He was the school’s top student in theory and second overall in practice.
For a supporter to rank first was nearly unheard of.
Dealers found it embarrassing—but facts were facts.
Jiwoo was simply better than them.
So they buried their petty inferiority and pretended to revere him instead.

In reality, most of them just wanted to stay on his good side.
Getting a buff from Jiwoo now was harder than finding a needle in a desert, but back in first year, he used to bless his teammates regularly.

Those who’d received his buffs once described it as,
“A feeling of pure ecstasy I’d never experienced before.”
“Like I could conquer the world.”
“It didn’t even feel like me. If this is what being S-rank feels like, I want it again.”

But after a few training sessions, Jiwoo realized that punching monsters himself was faster than empowering incompetent dealers.
So he’d made up his mind—
He’d never buff anyone weaker than him again.

“An S-rank… in this school?”

Jiwoo had always ignored others’ business, but even he’d never heard of an S-rank being around here.
Shouldn’t the school be worshipping him at this point?
And he’s a dealer, no less!

Because Jiwoo was a supporter, most of the school’s resources and attention went to the deputy head dealer instead.
That had always left a bitter taste.

‘Why him? I’m better.’

If they showered that A-rank jerk with praise, how much worse would it be for an S-rank dealer?
With that thought, Jiwoo met Yoo Heero for the first time.

But Yoo Heero wasn’t what he’d expected.
He didn’t carry the slightest trace of that “I’m superior to you” arrogance that S-rank dealers always had.
Instead, he looked up at Jiwoo with bright, clear eyes—like a wide-eyed puppy meeting its hero.

“You’re… Yoo Heero?”

He already knew, of course.
But just in case—just in case—he asked again.
If this kid really was an S-rank, he was one hell of a rare breed.
An S-rank without attitude? Impossible.

“Yes, sir.”

He even answered politely!

“W–why are you using honorifics…?”

“Sorry?”

“No, never mind. Just—why did you apply for mentoring? You’re an S-rank dealer, aren’t you?”

Jiwoo tried to stay composed as he asked, facing the boy’s almost painfully polite manner that screamed I’m nice, I promise!

The reply left him completely speechless.

“I… don’t know how to use my ability.”

“What? You can’t use it…?”

Jiwoo would’ve found it easier to believe some arrogant nonsense like,
“I wanted to experience what it’s like to get an SS-rank buff from you, Senior.”

But this?

He blinked at him like he’d just heard an urban legend.
Then checked the “Mentor-Mentee Info Sheet” again just to be sure.

“……?”

What about this absurdly high stat value then?
The chart was off the charts—literally about to break through the page.
He hated to admit it, but the kid’s numbers were easily one and a half times his own.

“Wait, you mean… you don’t know how?”

This was the same Yoo Heero destined to become the Destroyer of Worlds, a villain whose power would one day reduce civilization to ashes.
And now he was saying… he couldn’t even use it?

“Huh? Use what?”

That innocent tone didn’t match the slightest hint of global annihilation.

Ding.

A familiar system window blinked open before Jiwoo’s eyes.

[Quest: Save the World (Unlocked by fulfilling condition)]
[Condition met: You have encountered the “Destroyer of Worlds.”]
[Objective: Prevent the “Destroyer of Worlds.”]

‘Prevent him? Prevent what?! Look at that face! Does he look like he could even kill a bug?’

He didn’t look like someone capable of destroying anything, let alone the world.
Jiwoo’s motivation instantly deflated.
He felt like he could solve this whole “world-saving” quest by just handing him a lollipop and saying,
“Let’s try not to destroy the world today, okay?”

The quest title felt overly dramatic.

[Guide the “Destroyer of Worlds” onto the right path.]
[Expected Reward: Title — “Guide of Peace,” Unlock — S-Rank Supporter Skill.]

Perhaps sensing Jiwoo’s dismay, the system temptingly dangled its rewards before him.

‘S-Rank Supporter Skill… Unlock.’

Jiwoo’s eyes gleamed.
Hook, line, and sinker.

Most awakeners had no idea what skills they truly possessed.
After all, no one else could see such strange system windows.
So ability users spent most of their time developing skills—experimenting, failing, trying again, and sometimes, by pure accident, discovering something usable.

It was inefficient to the extreme, but it was the only way.
Jiwoo had been no exception in his past life.

As a supporter, he’d poured everything into building AoE debuff fields and protective barriers.
But what if there was something better?
And what if he could actually see what it was?

He opened his skill window with bated breath.

<Active Skill List>

[(A) Judgement of Light I: Target’s inflicted damage +10% (20 min)]
[(A) Judgement of Light II: Instant damage 175 to target (Single-use)]
[(B) Shield of Light: Nullify all attacks within 20m radius (10 min)]
[(B) Blessing of Light: All stats +20% for target (30 min)]
[(C) Light of Survival: Absorb target’s received damage (3 min)]
[…]

Ranks from A to C.

Jiwoo’s eyes shone brighter with each line.
Still, there weren’t many practical ones— especially that ridiculous C-rank skill.

‘Absorb someone else’s damage? Are you kidding me? Why would I ever do that?’

Even if he’d known it existed before, he’d never have used it.
Scowling, Jiwoo shut the window with a flick.

Yoo Heero flinched at his grim expression, thinking he’d done something wrong.

“U-um… Senior, if you’re uncomfortable, you can ask to switch mentees…”

“Training room.”

“…What?”

“Let’s go to the training room.”

Jiwoo didn’t even hear him.
He was already lost in thought, determined to “save the world” his own way— by guiding Yoo Heero and unlocking his reward.

Having lived as an A-rank all his life, aiming higher was natural.
And crushing those smug S-ranks underfoot?
That was his lifelong dream.

---

But things are never that simple.

God had given Yoo Heero good looks and a kind heart— but clearly forgot to include talent.

“Why can’t you do it? I told you to draw it out.”

Despite Jiwoo’s prodding, Heero only clenched his fists tighter, knuckles whitening.
Even with veins bulging from strain, no power emerged.
Jiwoo, who had never once struggled with using his own abilities, found it maddening.

“No, listen—here. You feel it here, right?”

He pointed to his own lower abdomen, but Heero just shook his head.
He looked so dejected Jiwoo worried he might actually cry if pushed harder.

“I’m… not sure. I’m sorry.”

Jiwoo sighed and scratched the back of his head in frustration.

“How did you awaken, anyway?”

“……”

Heero pressed his lips together, trembling slightly.
That reaction immediately set off Jiwoo’s alarms.
He forced a gentle smile.
He needed to keep his “nice senior” image.
If he traumatized the kid here, the next world-ending disaster might have his name on it.

The way Heero’s expression faltered at the mention of awakening told Jiwoo there was trauma involved.
Not uncommon.
Powerful awakenings sometimes manifested through devastating accidents.
He guessed something similar had happened to Heero.

An S-rank’s awakening couldn’t have been mild.
If luck had been cruel, someone close might have died.

Jiwoo spoke softly.

“If it’s a bad memory, you don’t have to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You don’t need to apologize for that.”

Once Heero’s tears were held at bay, Jiwoo began to think.
So… trauma from the awakening prevents him from using his power now?
That made sense.
Maybe his body instinctively sealed it away.

Then the solution was simple—
help him overcome the trauma.
Though that would take time.

“Alright. Let’s stop for today. It’s getting late… wanna grab dinner with me?”

He’d just tweak the quest goal a bit.

From [Guide the Destroyer of Worlds onto the Right Path] to [Befriend the Destroyer of Worlds].

“You mean… have dinner with me?”

That was the strongest reaction Jiwoo had gotten from him all day.
Even when Jiwoo had shouted ridiculous motivational noises to get him to “draw out his power,” he hadn’t reacted this much.

Jiwoo wondered if he’d said something weird—but no, it was just a meal.
It was dinner time anyway, and his stomach was growling.
Might as well eat together.
After all, in Korea, friendship begins at the dinner table.

“Why? You don’t want to eat with me?”

“N-no, it’s not that…”

Heero hesitated, lips parting like he wanted to say more, but no words came out.
Jiwoo was getting tired of the boy’s hesitant manner.
He grabbed him lightly by the shoulder and pulled him along.

“C’mon, before the cafeteria closes. I’m starving.”

The school’s only redeeming quality was its food— it would be a crime not to enjoy it after coming back in time.
At Jiwoo’s grumbling, Heero followed obediently.

But the moment they stepped into the cafeteria, Jiwoo understood why Heero had reacted that way.

Every student in the room froze.
Cold, hostile stares turned toward Yoo Heero.

Even Jiwoo’s own friends, sitting across the room, gaped when they saw the two of them.
He could see half-chewed food inside their open mouths from where he stood.

‘Ugh, disgusting. Close your damn mouths.’

Jiwoo raised a finger to his own lips, signaling them to shut up.
They finally clamped their jaws closed.

“What, are you being bullied or something?”

The question came out of Jiwoo’s mouth casually— but it hit Yoo Heero like a knife.

His shoulders flinched.