I Became the Academy’s Hidden Skill Master – Chapter 102

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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The first principle of happiness: Never falter.

The second principle of happiness: Always uphold the first principle.

Unfortunately, at seventeen, I hadn’t yet grasped these fundamental truths.

“This place is a pigsty.”

Ramen wrappers littered the floor, a testament to forgotten chores. The pot, crusted with the remnants of countless meals, sat unwashed on the stove.

The bathroom reeked of bleach, a desperate attempt to mask the underlying stench of neglect. A musty odor of mildew permeated the air, clinging to the corners of the room.

Even with the lights on, the basement apartment remained shrouded in shadows, a perpetual twilight.

“Raystember’s tactic is to inject despair into moments of happiness, isn’t it?”

The fear of reliving his deepest trauma forced the words from his lips. He needed to maintain a semblance of control, to anchor himself to the present, lest he become lost in the swirling vortex of his past.

“My parents died a week ago. Shouldn’t he have sent me there? To that moment?”

That would have truly broken him.

In that respect, he was fortunate.

Reliving the aftermath, rather than the event itself, was a mercy.

–Ugh… retch…”

He turned his head and saw his past self, a ghostly apparition.

Waking to the morning light, his first act had been to vomit. Emptying his stomach, purging the memories, forcing himself to confront the brutal reality of his loss.

He’d done it instinctively, driven by the primal need to survive, to keep moving forward.

–“…I need to… withdraw from school.”

Choices and consequences.

He’d carefully assessed his options, separating the possible from the impossible.

Continuing his studies while relying on meager government assistance? It wasn’t a viable option. If it had been, he would have been a top student, his walls plastered with awards, his parents beaming with pride.

–”I’ll be back.”

Despite the daily torment, the constant nausea and tears, the overwhelming sense of loss, he’d never forgotten those words.

He’d clung to the hope that they’d be there, waiting for him, their warm embrace a comforting constant.

Hope was a drug, a dangerous addiction that could shatter the mind.

“Pathetic.”

He steadied his trembling hands, forcing himself to move, to act. He began cleaning.

Unless Raystember appeared, there was no way out of this dream. This was his only option.

Rustle, rustle.

He gathered the trash, wiped the floor, washed the dishes, and sorted the laundry. Mundane tasks, yet strangely comforting in their familiarity.

He remembered the teacher’s concerned expression, his offer of assistance, his words of encouragement. “What are your plans after you withdraw? If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” Empty platitudes. He’d scoffed, recalling the teacher’s complaints about his meager salary, about how even buying his students chicken was a financial burden. Accepting help from someone like that? The thought itself was humiliating. He’d pushed himself harder, driven by a desperate need to escape that pity.

“He recreated it perfectly.”

With the cleaning done, he left the apartment.

The landscape was eerily familiar, a perfect replica of his old neighborhood.

The sweet, slightly off-putting scent of cheap snacks from the corner store wafted through the air, a familiar smell that tugged at his memory.

“Is this… wise?”

Raystember was a character from the game, a figment of his imagination. This world, however, was real. A memory brought to life. He’d opened a door between two dimensions, and he couldn’t predict the consequences.

Raystember was undoubtedly exploring his memories, searching for his weaknesses, and he would inevitably discover the truth – that he was a character in a game.

And what would happen then?

He couldn’t imagine.

‘The others should be safe, for now. Raystember will prioritize me…’

If he could resolve this on his own, the others would be spared. But he had no idea how Raystember would react to this revelation.

Would he be intrigued, fascinated by this glimpse into another world? Or would he be enraged, threatened by this unexpected truth, and lash out? He couldn’t predict the Archdemon’s reaction.

“He’s dredging up memories I’d forgotten…”

The key to defeating Raystember in this dreamscape was to avoid despair, to maintain his composure, and to strike at the core of the dream.

The problem was finding that core.

The trigger for the nightmare, the source of despair, wasn’t something Raystember could control directly. It manifested from the victim’s subconscious, their most cherished memories, their deepest fears, twisting them into a weapon.

“And during this time… I had nothing left.”

Alone, burdened by the weight of his responsibilities, what had he cherished most?

His soon-to-be-vacated basement apartment? The friends he’d abandoned after dropping out of school?

He wracked his brain, but couldn’t identify a single defining memory, a single source of hope or despair.

‘I moved so often, there wasn’t even time to build memories, let alone attachments.’

To save money, his priority had been finding the cheapest possible housing. He’d scoured every real estate listing, searching for a room he could afford, finally settling on a small, cramped studio. And from then on, he’d done whatever it took to survive.

“I started small, repairing clothes and selling them at a cafe… using the money to cover living expenses, then scavenging for more clothes…”

Then came a partnership offer, a chance to sell his creations at Dongdaemun Market.

When that wasn’t enough, he’d tried his hand at electronics in Yongsan, but it hadn’t lasted. Three years at most. Then, the inevitable call to military service. He’d left with a sense of regret, unfinished business lingering in his mind.

Countless events, countless experiences, now lost to time, buried beneath layers of suppressed memories.

He’d deliberately forgotten, choosing to lose himself in the world of Final Destiny, escaping the pain.

“Wait… is the world changing based on my thoughts?”

As he pieced together his fragmented memories, his surroundings shifted. He was back in his room.

His computer hummed, its fan whirring like a strained engine, its screen displaying his deceased character, frozen mid-battle. The soft hiss of the humidifier filled the dimly lit room, a familiar sound that grounded him in the present.

Years of his life, compressed into a fleeting moment.

‘This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.’

This wasn’t the usual pattern of Raystember’s dream invasion. Something was different.

As he pondered the unexpected turn of events,

–Shatter.

…the space around him fractured, and Raystember emerged.

“…Just who are you?”

The Archdemon stared at him, his composure gone, his face pale and drawn. He trembled, his hands clutching clumps of his own hair, as if he’d been tearing it out in frustration.

“Where… where am I? What am I supposed to be doing? Why can’t I leave?”

–Crack. Crunch. Snap.

Raystember’s words tumbled out in a torrent of confusion as his body began to grow, expanding to fill the room. He towered over Lee Seok-hyun, a monstrous figure easily three meters tall, his sharp claws outstretched, pointing accusingly.

“I don’t understand… What’s happening… Who are you? How… how are you interfering with my Main Skill?”

“…?”

Could it be that Archdemons couldn’t properly control higher dimensional spaces?

He vaguely recalled hearing something about this. While his understanding of such concepts was limited, he remembered a distinction between three-dimensional and four-dimensional beings, about how they couldn’t interact directly.

It seemed Raystember, by forcefully entering his dream, a higher-dimensional space, was now experiencing some kind of backlash, a dimensional pressure.

‘I can’t let him touch me.’

It was already game over if he was caught, but now, the stakes were even higher.

Raystember wasn’t looking at him with playful amusement anymore; his eyes held the cold fury of a hunter cornered, a predator sensing its own demise.

–Whirrrrrr.

Lee Seok-hyun activated Infinite Track and fled, dodging the Archdemon’s outstretched claws.

He knew that Raystember’s focus would be on him, and he used that to his advantage. He needed to find the dream’s core, and now, with Raystember distracted, he had his chance.

‘The others… I hope they’re alright.’

Praying for their safety, he shifted the dreamscape, drawing on his memories, searching for the key to this nightmare.

What had been most important to him at seventeen? What single, defining element had emerged from that miserable period of his life?

He had to find it.

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Even after Lee Seok-hyun vanished, Raystember couldn’t immediately pursue him.

–Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

Bells rang.

“Stop it! Please, make it stop! I beg you!”

A relentless cacophony of bells echoed through his mind, an unbearable torment that threatened to shatter his sanity.

“Make it stop! STOP!!!”

Raystember clutched his head, slamming it against the floor, his pleas growing increasingly desperate.

It hadn’t started this way.

When he’d first entered Lee Seok-hyun’s childhood memories,

He hadn’t experienced this pain.

‘I simply observed. A glimpse into another world.’

A world filled with unfamiliar sights and sounds, strange clothing, and bizarre architectural styles. It had been a fascinating experience, a journey of discovery.

But then the scene had shifted, and he’d found himself in a dark, unfamiliar room.

And on the screen, he’d seen something he should never have seen.

A simple message.

And behind it, a fleeting glimpse of [Despair of Destiny].

A fragment of the final boss, a being whose existence was forbidden at this stage of Final Destiny’s storyline.

The sight of it had sent shivers down his spine, his body trembling uncontrollably.

“What… what is that…?”

Its mere presence weakened him, draining his power. A single glance was enough to fill him with a primal dread, a desperate yearning for oblivion.

If he hadn’t been an Archdemon, he would have ended his own existence right then and there.

[You… you are not Lee Seok-hyun.]

A voice echoed from the monitor, a low, chilling whisper that resonated through his very being, squeezing his heart, threatening to shatter his mind. Raystember foamed at the mouth, his body convulsing.

[Forget.]

As soon as the command reached him, Raystember stopped trembling, his movements ceasing abruptly. He nodded, as if hypnotized.

[Kill Lee Seok-hyun in the dream. That is your destiny.]

–Nod. Nod.

With each word, the light faded from Raystember’s eyes, his will crumbling.

The power to decimate entire cities, reduced to nothing but a puppet’s obedience.

“Kill Lee Seok-hyun. That is my destiny.”

Raystember’s massive form shrunk, returning to its original size.

“Kill Lee Seok-hyun.”

Compelled by the command, driven by a force beyond his control, he began to move.

“That is my destiny.”

He repeated the words, a mantra that guided his every step.

To defy Despair of Destiny was to invite oblivion.

A new game had begun.

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