The taxi slowed to a stop in front of Daehan Arts Academy, its headlights cutting across the towering glass facade. Emma Carter pressed her forehead against the window, staring at the building that glittered like a palace. This was the place where idols were born — and where outsiders were crushed.
She stepped out, clutching her worn backpack. The November air was sharp, colder than she expected. Students in immaculate uniforms streamed past her, their laughter polished, their voices carrying the confidence of people who belonged. Emma adjusted her hoodie, suddenly aware of how ordinary she looked.
Whispers began almost immediately.
> "She's the American exchange student."
> "Her accent is going to be terrible."
> "Do they really think she can be an idol?"
Emma's jaw tightened. She had heard worse before. But here, every word felt heavier, sharpened by the prestige of the academy.
Emma followed the guide through a corridor lined with framed magazine covers and platinum records, each bearing the name of a Daehan graduate. Her footsteps echoed against the polished marble floor.
The doors to the orientation hall opened with a soft click. Inside, the space was grand — velvet seats arranged in perfect rows, a stage framed by golden curtains, and spotlights casting a warm glow on the podium. The air smelled faintly of cologne and ambition.
Emma hesitated, then slipped into a seat near the back. She clutched her transfer papers tightly, the edges crumpled from the flight. Around her, students murmured in Korean, their voices smooth and practiced.
On stage, the headmaster stepped forward, his posture regal, his suit immaculate. He scanned the room with the quiet authority of someone used to commanding attention.
> "Daehan Arts Academy is not merely a school," he declared, his voice resonating through the hall. "It is a crucible. Only those who endure will rise to the stage. Only those who shine will be remembered."
The room fell silent. Emma's gaze drifted across the rows of students.
In the front sat the Rich heirs — sons and daughters of CEOs, producers, and entertainment moguls. Their uniforms were custom-tailored, their expressions calm, almost bored. They didn't need to prove themselves. Their names were already known.
To the right, clustered like a bouquet of thorns, were the Bitch queen bees. They were flawless — glassy skin, perfect eyeliner, and eyes sharp enough to cut. They whispered behind manicured hands, laughing softly, scanning the room for anyone who didn't measure up.
Emma felt their gaze land on her. One girl, with jet-black hair and a diamond-studded hairpin, met her eyes and smirked.
Minji.
Emma looked away, her stomach tightening. She had read about girls like Minji — the ones who ruled with beauty and cruelty. But reading about them was different from sitting in their territory.
She straightened her papers and focused on the stage, pretending not to hear the whispers. She hadn't come to Daehan to be liked. She had come to survive.
After orientation, Emma followed the crowd to the cafeteria. The space was sleek and modern — glass walls, minimalist furniture, and a soft instrumental track playing overhead. The scent of grilled bulgogi and steamed rice filled the air.
She moved through the line quietly, selecting a modest tray: rice, kimchi, and a small bowl of seaweed soup. Around her, students laughed and chatted in rapid Korean, their voices blending into a rhythm she couldn't quite follow.
Emma scanned the room for an empty seat. Most tables were full — not with food, but with invisible borders. Groups clustered tightly, their body language clear: outsiders not welcome.
She spotted a small table in the corner, unoccupied. As she approached, a group of girls slid into the seats around it, blocking her path. At the center was Minji, her diamond hairpin catching the light like a crown.
> "Oh," Minji said, looking up with mock surprise. "Did you think this was open?"
Emma hesitated. "I didn't realize—"
> "Of course you didn't," Minji interrupted, switching to English with a sugary smile. "You're new. And foreign. It must be hard to tell when you don't belong."
Laughter rippled through the table. One of the girls "accidentally" bumped into Emma's tray, sending the soup sloshing over the edge and onto her skirt.
> "Oops," the girl said, not even pretending to be sorry.
Emma stood frozen, the hot broth soaking into her tights. Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to breathe. She bent down, grabbing a napkin, trying to blot the stain.
> "You should be careful," Minji added. "This school doesn't tolerate messes."
Emma didn't respond. She couldn't. Her throat was tight, her vision blurring. She turned away, tray still in hand, and walked toward the farthest corner of the cafeteria.
She sat alone, the soup untouched, her appetite gone.
As she stared at her tray, something flickered in her vision — a faint shimmer, like a reflection on glass. Then, without warning, a translucent panel appeared before her eyes.
System Notification: Attribute Panel Activated
User: Emma Carter
System Status: Active
Visibility: Exclusive
Primary Talents
- Evolution: Skills and attributes improve through repeated use. EXP required per level: 100. EXP gained per activation: +1.
- Stat Growth: Core attributes increase with 100 points per level.
- Equal Growth: All attributes rise equally when one is upgraded.
Initial Skills
- Singing Lv.1 — Vocal tone, pitch control, resonance. EXP: 0/100
- Dance Lv.1 — Rhythm, coordination, stage presence. EXP: 0/100
---
Emma blinked then looked around the cafeteria. The panel remained, hovering silently in front of her. No one else seemed to notice.
She reached out instinctively — and the panel responded, shifting as if it were alive.
A system. A real one.
Her heart pounded. She didn't know how or why it had chosen her. But she knew one thing:
She wasn't powerless anymore.
She tapped the Singing skill. A small prompt appeared:
> Activate skill?
> Use: 1 EXP gained per attempt.
Emma glanced around. No one was watching. She hummed softly under her breath — a shaky note, barely audible.
+1 EXP
Singing Lv.1 → 1/100
Her lips parted. She hummed again. Louder this time.
+1 EXP
Singing Lv.1 → 2/100
She smiled.