Is This a Novel or Something?…Everyone and Their Dog is Regressing, It’s Fucking Ridiculous – Chapter 6

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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The sun is impartial.

It rises to the sky, showering everyone with the same light.

The worker heading to another day of hard labor.

The butterfly fluttering from flower to flower.

And me, sprawled out pathetically on a bench, still drunk from the night before.

The warm sunlight slowly nudged me awake.

As if responding to its call, everything started to feel lighter: my eyelids, head, body, arms, legs.

I rubbed my heavy eyes open and stretched my stiff body.

As I tried to gather my scattered thoughts, I began to assess my surroundings.

…

Strange.

It was too quiet.

There was no one around.

Ignoring the faint sense of unease that creeped up on me, I checked my physical condition.

‘Fuck… my head hurts…’

My head throbbed sharply, as if someone had stabbed it with an ice pick.

My body ached as if covered in bruises, and my limbs throbbed with pain.

Memories of last night slowly returned, reminding me of my mindless drinking spree.

Idiot.

I’m a real idiot.

I mindlessly chugged down alcohol without even bothering with snacks.

As if to prove my point, five empty soju bottles lay scattered at my feet.

No, wait.

Six bottles, including the one still clutched in my hand.

‘I should’ve paced myself…’

What kind of protagonist downed five bottles of soju and then went for a sixth?

This one, right here, dammit.

Worried about being seen, I quickly shoved the five empty bottles into a nearby trash can.

The pungent smell of alcohol clung to my hand, but hiding the evidence of my drunken escapade was more important.

Suddenly, I heard a roar coming from a slightly ajar window in a nearby building.

Despite the distance, the voice was so loud and clear that I could understand every word.

-“Where have you been? Time is of the essence for a researcher! You can’t be late like this!”

-“If you come an hour earlier, you’d save a whole day, so where on earth have you been?”

-“How do you expect to get your degree at this rate? Now, compile the research I assigned last night and report back to me immediately!”

Researcher.

A pitiful creature, the only one not protected by law in this day and age where even graduate students are shielded.

Even if they got hurt, it was considered property damage, not human injury.

People become researchers for various reasons.

Master’s or doctoral degrees. Professorship. Job hunting. Escapism.

But regardless of their reasons, there’s one thing they all share:

They weren’t treated like human beings.

They were slaves.

No.

Worse than slaves.

At least slaves were fed.

I offered my condolences to these unfortunate souls, ignored even by labor laws.

At the same time, I nurtured my hatred for that damn professor who keeps yelling.

‘Shut the fuck up, you professor bitch. My head’s killing me.’

But my growing hatred was quickly replaced by a different emotion as I checked the date and time on my phone: shock, horror, disbelief, denial, desperation.

Numbers that never should’ve been on my phone, the ones I never wanted to see, and the reminder on my calendar, all screamed the same message.

-09:45 AM

-Reminder: Academy D-Day

-First class starts at 9 AM

-Missed calls (13)

I’m screwed.

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I’m completely fucked.

That was the conclusion I reached after careful deliberation.

I am screwed.

The academy’s dorm adjustment period lasted one week.

But on the first day, right after orientation, classes started.

And I had already missed more than half of my first class.

I was fucked, royally.

In life, you had to play it safe.

The true path to success lies in the ambiguous middle ground, neither too conspicuous nor too disregarded.

But here I was, desperately trying to claw my way back from the brink of academic ruin.

Everything had gone wrong from the start.

‘Actually, it all went downhill from the mental hospital, damn it.’

Cursing the librarian in my mind, I sprinted towards my classroom.

Thankfully, while searching for the library, I had figured out where my classroom was.

I didn’t even spare a glance at the elevator and took the stairs two at a time.

Two steps for every ragged breath.

I climbed tirelessly, without a moment’s pause.

Reaching the fifth floor, I immediately opened and went through the back door of my classroom.

As quietly and discreetly as possible.

BAM!

But the back door swung open with an exceptionally loud bang. Perhaps it was because I couldn’t control my accelerated body, or maybe I was just incredibly unlucky today.

What was certain was that all eyes in the classroom, previously shrouded in a heavy silence, were now fixed on me.

“…I’m sorry I’m late.”

I offered a cautious apology, trying to gauge the mood.

At the same time, I took stock of my disheveled appearance: messy hair, ripped jeans, wrinkled black long-sleeved T-shirt, bloodshot and puffy eyes, and the strong smell of alcohol on my breath.

I come to one conclusion.

Yep.

Even if I got dragged out as a homeless person, I couldn’t argue!

I looked homeless!

I had already given up on sneaking in unnoticed.

As I sighed and took a step into the classroom…

The older female professor with black hair, who had paused her lecture, looked at me and spoke softly,

“Student? We’ve already completed attendance for all Gold-rank students. Who are you?”

??????

Something is wrong.

Very wrong.

“You’re not a… research student, are you? Judging by the color of your student ID on your necklace, this isn’t your class.”

Startled, I stepped back out the door and checked the nameplate again.

1st Year. Gold Border.

‘Tsk, so this is the Gold-tier classroom.’

As if nothing had happened, I quietly closed the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I turned and sprinted towards the Iron-tier classroom.

I think I heard someone calling after me, but I ignored it.

Fuck.

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At the very end of the hallway.

A place where sunlight barely reached, seemingly filled with a musty smell.

This was the location of the Iron-tier classroom.

The classroom’s condition was just as bad as its location.

A rusted 1st Year nameplate, crooked and out of place.

The walls were almost completely stripped of paint, and mold bloomed in the corners.

A stark contrast to the pristine Gold-tier classroom, this place was discriminatory and in terrible condition.

It was a complete mess.

Iron-tier lives matter too, you bastards.

Of course, complaining wouldn’t do anything.

In the Hunter ecosystem, everything revolved around “What’s your tier?”

If you’re not happy, come back when you’re a higher rank.

Anyway, I’m here. I won’t be caught off guard this time.

I opened the back door carefully, as though I were handling a delicate glass sculpture.

And the front door swung open silently.

Damn it.

‘Why are the front and back doors reversed, you bastards?’

Another moment of silence passed.

But I had already experienced this once, so I wasn’t fazed.

I confidently strode into the classroom.

And I was greeted by a bald professor who stared at me with obvious annoyance, his lecture interrupted.

“I’m a little late.”

“Why are you so nonchalant?”

The professor growled.

But I couldn’t back down now.

“Ah, what else can I do when I’m already late? I’m sorry.”

“Fine, let’s ignore the fact that you’re late. What’s that in your hand?”

“?….”

I looked down at the plastic bag hanging from my wrist.

Four bottles of soju leftover from yesterday, two bags of snacks, a cup of instant noodles, and a pair of wooden chopsticks.

…Shit.

“Explain yourself, student.”

“…Supplies.”

“Why the hell are those supplies?! In a classroom?! Why!! Do you have alcohol with you!!!!”

Academy students were allowed to bring their personal weapons to class.

But what I brought wouldn’t work. Obviously.

Because it was alcohol.

The professor’s rage grew with each exclamation mark.

A vein popped out on his forehead, a testament to his fury.

He gritted his teeth and said,

“Supplies… supplies… fine.”

“Isn’t it fine?”

My words added another vein to his forehead.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“I’ll just take my seat.”

“Shut up and listen!!”

His face was turning red.

It was hard to tell who the real monster here was.

“If you can subdue me, I’ll overlook your tardiness-”

Clang!

Before he could finish his sentence, I throw a soju bottle at his head.

But perhaps because he was bald, his head was so hard that even the soju bottle shattered upon impact.

“What the hell are you doing!!!”

“Subduing you.”

“Not now, damn it!!!!”

The professor was so excited that he started jumping up and down like a child.

Yes, maintaining your childlike innocence is important.

It was a sight to behold.

The professor’s proposition was this:

Subdue him.

The reward: not only would he overlook my lateness, but he would also tolerate any mischief I caused in all my classes for the day – a rather generous offer.

However, he warned me not to blame him if I got seriously injured in the process, a subtle threat that he wouldn’t go easy on me.

Lastly, he offered me a handicap: he wouldn’t use any of his abilities.

“So you’re saying I can beat you up?”

“What makes you so confident?”

There was a very obvious reason for my confidence.

“I don’t think I’ll lose to a creature with no hair.”

“What are you talking about? I have perfectly fine hair!”

He didn’t seem to understand.

I needed to emphasize my point.

“Hair. On your head.”

“…This isn’t going to end well. You’ll probably break a limb or two.”

As I looked at the bald professor growling even more ferociously, I thought,

He fit one of two common types:

Either he’s bluffing, or he actually had the skills to back it up.

In this case, it was the latter.

There’s no other reason why he would declare he wouldn’t use his abilities.

I stared at him, slowly organizing my thoughts.

Size: he’s bigger than me. Engaging him head-on was dangerous.

Strength: uncertain. He could be equal to or stronger than me.

Stamina: I probably have the edge, but it wouldn’t matter much since this would be a quick fight.

Hair: the professor is a wasteland. My head is a dense forest.

This last factor made me confident in my victory.

Hand-to-hand combat.

It’s time to gain an advantage, however small.

I cracked open a soju bottle.

And immediately poured it into my stomach.

Alcohol was the only thing that had been in my stomach since last night.

I felt like I was going to die.

I’m screwed.

I forced down the rising nausea, endured the sickening smell of alcohol that filled my nose and mouth. The professor stared at me like I was an idiot and asked,

“…What are you doing?”

“Ugh… Preparing my weapon.”

“But did you have to drink it?”

“The punishment is lighter if I’m mentally incapacitated.”

“…Ha… Just finish your preparations quickly.”

He sighed and covered his eyes with his hand.

This was my chance.

While he couldn’t see, I reached into the plastic bag.

I snapped the wooden chopsticks in half, sharpening the broken ends, and concealed them in the sleeves of my shirt.

“Are you done?”

“One second.”

As the professor urged me on, I took out the rest of the contents from the plastic bag.

I put an empty bottle back into the bag and smashed it on the ground.

And now, I had a versatile weapon: a broken soju bottle.

The professor, who had been watching everything, asked in a puzzled tone,

“Not throwing it this time?”

“Why would I throw it like a savage when I can use it for crafting? Are you okay?”

“You were the one who threw it earlier, you bastard!!!”

He was still yelling, even though he wasn’t hit this time.

How incompetent can he be to be making such a fuss?

I decide to be understanding.

Anyway, it was time to crush him.

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