Group Project (1)

Even though I'd made my first-ever embarrassing memory at a gathering in this life, nothing about my daily life changed. Although I suffered from a hangover all weekend, it didn't interfere much with writing.

I just had to make rather a lot of trips back and forth to the bathroom. I'd heard that wine caused worse hangovers than other alcoholic drinks, and I felt that fact painfully.

Anyway, despite that minor problem, I could write without a hitch, like a ship sailing with the wind in its sails. The historical knowledge I'd learned while teaching Cindy composition and the demonfolk biology Cecily had told me about were a huge help.

However, my free time had been reduced by more than half compared to when I was at home, so there was no helping the slower progress. At home, I had devoted my entire day to writing.

'Certainly... Even if I hurry, the next volume will take at least two months.'

At home, I had been able to submit a manuscript every two weeks at the earliest and once a month at the latest, but the circumstances here made that extremely difficult. In fact, even two months was already exceptionally fast.

This being the case, I sometimes wondered how nice it would be to have a machine like a typewriter. This was a world where papermaking and printing had advanced enough for newspapers to be published, so why was it so hopelessly deficient when it came to machines?

'What can I do? This era is still medieval.'

This world hadn't even reached the Industrial Revolution, let alone produced anything that could properly be called a 'machine,' so the concept of 'engineering' itself didn't exist. The refrigerator in the dormitory, its temperature-control function, and even the magic pen I used were not engineering but 'magical studies.'

Perhaps even if this world reached the Industrial Revolution, its machines wouldn't be completely mechanical like those in my previous life, but would contain a bit of magic. I recalled the steam locomotive I had written about in Volume 8, then shook my head from side to side.

'That's not something I need to worry about.'

I just needed to do my own work. I was writing with the magic pen my father had given me when I suddenly stopped.

'Come to think of it, don't we start the group project tomorrow?'

The thought of group projects made my brow furrow on its own. In my previous life, I had no good memories of working on group projects.

It wasn't like some miracle happened at the final stop, either. During group-project periods, people's parents would fall ill, they would have to attend funerals, or their phones would break so they couldn't be contacted, and so on.

Being absent for various reasons was commonplace, and some people even ran off to join the military.

The most infuriating time was when I did everything alone and the professor gave me a C. I still remembered being scolded because the group leader was supposed to demonstrate leadership and lead the members instead of doing everything alone.

I didn't care what happened, just please let that not happen. If they said they couldn't do it, I would do everything myself, so as long as they showed up and participated, I would have no regrets.

'I'm a fucking writer. You think I can't even handle that?'

Perhaps because I had remembered my trauma from group projects, I ended up swearing. That was how strongly I felt nothing but hostility toward group projects.

Some people might ask whether things wouldn't be different here since this was an entirely different world. Unfortunately, human nature didn't change no matter where you went. Besides, since a class system existed here, things might be even worse.

'But there aren't even PPTs here, so what am I supposed to do? Should I draw pictures or something?'

The difference between having visual effects and not having them was enormous. As the saying went, seeing once was better than hearing a hundred times; no matter how many times you explained something, it was inferior to seeing it once.

It seemed wiser to ask the professor about this later. If possible, I wanted to give the presentation even if I had to draw some rough pictures. The higher the grade, the better, after all.

'We have to choose a topic too... This is going to be harder than I thought.'

Of course, that didn't apply to me. I put the group-project matter off and focused on writing for the time being. My priority was writing the setting for the Seven Deadly Sins.

'Let's make Lust a demonfolk. And her appearance...'

My hand, which had been moving the magic pen, came to an abrupt stop. When I thought of a demonfolk who governed Lust, Cecily came to mind—wearing the dress she had worn at the gathering, no less.

At the entrance ceremony, I had heard a rumor that she was a descendant of succubi. Judging by her behavior and alluring atmosphere alone, the rumor seemed highly credible.

'...If I write something like this, people will suspect me, so I'll describe her differently. I can add that she was betrayed by a human man who had treated her without discrimination despite knowing she was demonfolk. Lastly, her name...'

Naturally, it would be Lilith. If the beastfolk in charge of Wrath was named Satan, what was wrong with that?

'The beastfolk's name is Satan. Now that's something...'

I chuckled inwardly and wrote the story without a hitch.

****"

There was a saying about group projects.

When they band together, they die; when they scatter, they live.

Normally, the proverb should have meant the exact opposite, but group projects were different. The moment two or three people piled onto a job that only one person needed to do, the efficiency of the work paradoxically plummeted.

Of course, that was only how the saying went. It wasn't as though only bad things ever happened during group projects. You might happen to become friends and have a chance to build connections, or even develop a good relationship.

But every time I did a group project, I met godawful teammates, which was the problem. Thanks to them, I vividly experienced the process of coming to hate humanity.

Anyway, to make group projects even 'slightly' more efficient, the first thing you needed to do was assign as few people as possible. That was an absolute rule.

As the saying went, when too many ferrymen rowed, the boat went up a mountain. Four people were manageable, but problems began the moment there were five. There were too many cases of people running away and leaving everything to the others, thinking, 'I'm only one person, so it'll be fine~.'

I planned to report those bastards all to the professor.

"As I said last time, today we will form groups at random and assign the project. The topic is predicting the progression of The Chronicle of Xenon. You will need to explain why you came up with that hypothesis and whether there is any evidence to support it."

Monday arrived, and as soon as humanities class began, the professor brought up the group project. As usual, I was sitting in the front, and I snorted inwardly after hearing him.

'Finally, here it comes.'

Even in my previous life, where there were no class distinctions, group projects were perfect for losing faith in humanity. I was genuinely curious how things would go here.

Meanwhile, the professor counted the students in the classroom one by one before speaking in his characteristic gentle voice.

"There are exactly 46 students currently attending my lecture. I will divide you into groups of four, then randomly place the remaining two into groups. I will hand out slips of paper, so write your name on one and place it in the box."

After saying that, Professor Virrus handed a small stack of paper to the student in front. I took one slip from the stack and passed the rest back.

"I hope we end up in the same group. You're the easiest person to work with, at least."

Marie, who was sitting beside me, spoke as I folded the slip with my name on it into a neat square. I completely agreed with her, so I nodded.

Rather than working with people whose faces I didn't know, I hoped to be grouped with someone familiar, even if I had to do the work alone, so I could at least be at ease.

"I hope I'm in the same group as Isaac too. If it's Isaac, I feel like he'd already be able to predict the entire plot of The Chronicle of Xenon."

Apparently having heard Marie, Cecily, who was sitting behind us, spoke in her characteristic playful tone. I couldn't help flinching slightly as soon as I heard what she said.

I couldn't tell why she had said something like that, but it wasn't a good sign for me. Besides, for some reason, her words seemed to have a barb hidden in them.

"Cecily. Are you saying you'll just get help from Isaac and do nothing yourself?"

Rina, who was seated beside Cecily, asked in her characteristic gentle voice. Cecily merely shrugged nonchalantly as she answered.

"Who knows? What about you, Rina? You're the princess of this country, so I suppose someone else will take care of everything for you."

"I'd appreciate that, but I do have a conscience. I should help."

When Rina replied with a faint smile, Marie's expression rapidly hardened. She turned around and shot Rina a glance before facing forward again.

She then muttered through clenched teeth, openly revealing her discomfort.

"...What conscience? You're saying something you don't even mean."

"... ..."

I deliberately pretended not to hear. This wasn't the first or second time Marie had expressed her displeasure toward Rina, so I could now let it go in one ear and out the other.

A little while later, Professor Virrus collected the slips one by one and placed them in the box. To mix them evenly, he shook the box noisily and even reached inside to stir them around. He wasn't making bibimbap, so why was he mixing them so thoroughly?

"All right. We will draw them now. The first person drawn is..."

The moment the professor unfolded the neatly folded slip, an unusual glint appeared in his eyes as he looked directly at me. I had somewhat expected it as soon as I saw the square-folded paper, so it seemed my suspicion had been correct.

While I was thinking that, Professor Virrus gently tugged at his mustache with an intrigued expression and called out the name.

"Isaac Ducer Maishal. And next..."

Please let someone I know come out. Ah, except Jackson.

As I waited anxiously, the professor pulled a slip from the box. Then, in the same powerful voice as before, he called out the name.

"Aira Ben Martius."

"Yes!"

A spirited shout came from the back the moment her name was called. Judging from her name and how clearly her voice carried, she seemed to be a girl.

I turned my head toward the back to see who my group member was. A female student with brown hair and a cute appearance had raised her hand.

Naturally, she was someone whose face I didn't recognize. Since she had a middle name, I presumed she was a noble young lady.

"Next is Benjamin Blank."

"Y-Yes!"

The reply came from somewhere not too far away. I craned my neck and looked toward the side from which I had heard the voice.

A boy with dull blond, curly hair caught my eye. For some reason, he was clearly extremely nervous.

Unlike Aira and me, he had no middle name, so he seemed to be a commoner. As far as I knew, for a commoner to enter Halo Academy, and literature rather than magic at that, they had to go through an extremely difficult process.

Compared to my previous life, it was like a student who had only completed middle school being admitted to Seoul National University through regular admissions. Unless they had genius-level intelligence, entering would be nearly impossible.

I took that to mean he wasn't incompetent, at least. I considered that fortunate.

"Lastly... Leona Lyons."

Wait. What?

I blinked the moment I heard the name the professor called. I had never heard the surname before, but the given name was incredibly familiar.

I searched around for a familiar face and ended up making eye contact with a woman. Her normally almost expressionless face openly displayed surprise.

It was Leona, the beastfolk woman whose secret I'd discovered.

'...I don't know whether to be happy or not.'

If this counted as fate, then it was fate. After coming face-to-face with Leona, I wondered how I should react, then gave her a small wave.

Leona hurriedly wiped the flustered expression from her face and turned away. I felt a little hurt that she ignored my greeting, but given her circumstances, I understood.

"This makes four people in one group. Next... Jackson Mirel Kerrison."

As soon as my group was decided, the next person I had been keeping a close eye on, Jackson, was called. Since he wasn't in my group anyway, I had just been about to stop paying attention to him.

"Marie Hausen Rechillis."

Surprisingly, Jackson and Marie ended up in the same group. If this was a coincidence, it was quite a coincidence.

The moment the professor called Marie's full name, I checked her reaction.

"Of all people, him..."

Marie had scrunched up her face and looked as though she had just tasted something foul. After all, she had clearly seen Jackson hitting on Rina and Cecily with her own two eyes, so her reaction was understandable.

For context, Jackson had hit on Marie once and never did it again. That was understandable, considering Marie had openly told him to fuck off and cursed him out.

But that wasn't the end of the problem.

"Rina Urmi Christine."

"Hmm?"

Even Rina, whom Marie hated so much, ended up in the same group. I glanced back and saw that Rina also seemed not to have expected it, as she raised one eyebrow.

There were already more than enough problems, but the final blow came immediately afterward.

"... ..."

Professor Virrus had remained calm while drawing Rina, but the moment he checked the next slip he'd drawn, he paused. Then he wore a bewildered expression and turned his head toward me.

I watched him, inwardly thinking there was no way, and waited for him to open his mouth. And then...

"...Cecily Drat Aisilia Bin."

Despite the astronomical odds, a full-blown disaster of a group had been formed.