Roy’s eyes spun in panic. Did that look even more suspicious? The man asked him again.
“Who are you?”
“Uh... I’m—”
Stay calm, Lee Roi. You ca prepared with a mask, even in this heatwave.
The man looked to be in his mid-forties, wearing a tracksuit with the Taegeuk emblem—probably a coach or manager.
“Ahem, ahem.”
Roy feigned a cough to buy ti. What lie wouldn’t raise suspicion? His mind raced faster than ever, but his nervous throat betrayed him.
“The bathroom...”
Damn. Asked who he was, answered “bathroom.” No sane person would think otherwise than that he was an intruder.
‘I’ll just run.’ Roy turned to bolt—but then,
“Oh, you’re the kid who ca from Seoul for the tour, right? From the Jung-gu Sports Association?”
“...?”
“And where’s your pass?”
Roy patted his chest, then the man—ever helpful—gave him an out.
“You lost it, huh?”
“Yes.”
Lucky . He need not flee; the man had just granted him plausible credentials.
“But you can’t wander alone without your pass.”
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. You said you were looking for the bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Follow . I’ll take you.”
Grateful for urgent relief, Roy followed without a word. When he erged, the man handed him a new official pass.
“Don’t ever lose this. Got it?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Now, officially a guest with permission—no longer trespassing. A grin crept across Roy’s face.
“Well then, I’ll be off.” He bowed at his benefactor and turned to leave—
“Hey, you! Where do you think you’re going alone?”
“Eeek!”
The man grabbed the back of Roy’s collar, nearly sending him face-first to the ground. He turned to see a low chuckle.
“Your eyes are gonna pop out. I called the tour supervisor—wait here a bit. They’ll co get you.”
“?”
“Yeah.”
Crap. He’d thought himself in the clear—only to land in a second bind.
✧
“Friends, you mustn’t stray from the group without telling your teacher, okay?”
“Yes, sir!”
Roy was handed over safely to the tour supervisor. Getting the pass had been good—being booked for the kids’ training program was tragic.
“Now, let’s board the bus to move to our next location!”
Thirty elentary students surged toward the bus, guided by their teacher. The village shuttle bus was decked out with a bright banner:
[“Jincheon National Athletes’ Village Tour with the Jung-gu Sports Association!”]
This field trip was for local fourth- to sixth-graders: touring actual training venues, dining with national athletes, even trying the sports themselves! With such a packed agenda, the 33:1 application rate made sense.
Roy would’ve thought it fun—if he weren’t the only adult among them.
“Shall we hop on, too?” the teacher asked him.
“...Yes.”
Nobody found this odd: here they were, little kids, and he, still in school cafeteria tracks—now riding a kids’ tour bus. Even among the boys, he was one of the shortest. Kids these days...
‘No, it’s fine. I’m going to hit 187 cm. My profile said so.’ He told himself.
A nearby kid piped up, “Why are you wearing a mask? Isn’t it hot? It’s global warming, you know.”
“Nah, I’m fine.”
“But I don’t rember you on the bus earlier.”
“I was there. I saw you all.”
Whether they stared or not, Roy ignored them, gazing out the window.
‘I shouldn’t be here! I need to find Yeonwoo, now!’ he resolved to make his escape at the next stop. The bus slowed to a halt.
The guide stood, “Friends, for part two of our trip, we’ll now learn and try Olympic sports firsthand!”
Roy’s heart sank. Olympic sports? That ant more endless hours—no escape.
“Any sports you’ve always wanted to try?” the teacher asked.
“Soccer!” “Taekwondo!” “Archery!” “Shooting!”
Their screeches made his ears ring. As an Awakener his senses were sharp—screaming kids were torture.
“But today we’ll do badminton, archery, and shooting,” the guide announced. One student raised a hand:
“Who teaches these?”
“Special today—our national team athletes and coaches!”
What?! Roy, slumped in his seat, shot upright.
“Can we go now?”
“Yes!!!”
Among all these kids, 16-year-old Roy felt a surge of vitality.
✧
Jincheon Village Badminton Hall. First up: badminton. On the sprawling green court, Roy stood expressionless, racket in hand.
“Coach will lob the shuttle; let’s see if you can return it.”
“Okay.”
A white shuttlecock flew over the net in a gentle arc—too slow, almost boring.
“Haahm.” Roy yawned, then tapped it back.
Thud. The shuttle fell limp to the floor—he’d underhit it.
“Ha ha. That’s okay. You need more power. Try a bit stronger.” The coach encouraged him, underestimating this “ordinary” kid. Roy smirked: a coach who trains Olympians should know better. This ti he’d add proper strength.
“Hit with all your might, understood?”
“Yes.”
Roy adopted his stance. The coach lobbed again with similar pace. Roy watched its curve then swung wide—
Whish! The shuttle whizzed past the coach’s ear and embedded itself in the far wall.
“...!” Roy’s pupils trembled. To him, the shuttle was clearly visible stuck across the hall—but not to the coach. Ordinary eyesight couldn’t see that far; thank goodness.
The coach scanned the floor, puzzled.
“Huh? Where’d the shuttle go?”
Roy broke out in cold sweat—then his hand moved faster than his eyes. As the coach turned, Roy grabbed a shuttle from the neighboring court and lobbed it gently into the net corner, pointing nonchalantly.
“Coach, over here.”
“Oh! There it is. I could’ve sworn it flew behind .”
Grabbing the replacent, the coach moved on. Ti for the next venue.
“Friends, ti’s up!”
“Aww, haven’t even had a proper rally.”
“It’s fine.”
Roy returned the racket, then dashed to the front of the line. Before the others sward, he had business.
‘The next hall is the shooting range, right?’
He couldn’t afford an hour there. He swore off using Godslighting on people—but this was the only way.
Roy clasped his hands, summoned his biggest puppy eyes, and spoke sweetly:
“Teacher, where are we off to next? Can’t we go to archery first?”
【Skill ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) ‘Godslighting’ activated.】
“Archery? We had saving that for last...”
“I want to learn archery first. Please?”
“Alright. Let’s head to archery now.”
“Yes!”
Yes! The plan was working. Roy, having bartered his integrity, arrived at the archery hall—only to find no sign of Yeonwoo.
Frantic, he grabbed a passing coach.
“Excuse , is Park Yeonwoo here?”
“Yeonwoo? Hmm. He was here earlier. Maybe he went to check his score?”
He’d been here—and now he wasn’t.
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