Chapter 1 – Welcome to the Division
I always thought my school life would be easy.
Sleep through the boring parts, scrape by with barely-passing grades, and coast my way toward graduation. Maybe pick up a minor Hunter license later—nothing too flashy, just enough to keep food on the table and avoid dying poor.
That was the plan.
Of course, plans never survive first contact with reality.
And mine went up in flames the moment the headmaster summoned me to his office.
---
I sat slouched in the stiff wooden chair across from his desk, staring at the ceiling fan as it lazily spun. The office smelled faintly of old paper and stronger of old man. My head bobbed once, twice, before I finally let my eyelids droop. Just a quick nap. Surely whatever lecture I was about to receive could wait until I woke up.
Unfortunately, the headmaster's voice shattered that little dream.
"Eiden Kurose, student ID 2741."
My eyes flicked open halfway. His bald head reflected the afternoon sun through the window like a divine spotlight. I couldn't tell if he was reading off a script or just naturally that monotone.
"Due to insufficient grades, chronic absence, and insubordination, you are hereby reassigned to—" He paused just long enough for me to realize this wasn't going anywhere good.
"—the Monster Suppression Division."
I sat up straight. "The what Division?"
The headmaster didn't even blink. He slid a black folder across the desk. A silver emblem was stamped on the front—a coiled serpent wrapped around a sword. It looked way too menacing to belong to a school department.
I picked it up gingerly, as if it might explode. "I, uh… I think there's been a mistake. I applied for the Theoretical Combat Department, remember? You know, the one where we study raid strategies, analyze past dungeon data, and write long essays about heroic hunters—preferably from the comfort of air-conditioned classrooms?"
The headmaster's eyes were like daggers. "And you failed out."
"Failed out is a little strong," I muttered. "I prefer to say I was strategically conserving effort."
"You skipped thirty-two lectures," he replied flatly.
"Quality over quantity?"
"You fell asleep during exams."
"Look, I have a medical condition. It's called chronic boredom."
His glare could have peeled paint off the walls. I sighed, scratching the back of my head. This was bad.
The Monster Suppression Division wasn't just any program. It was the insane, borderline suicidal branch of Arcane Academy—the one that specialized in training students to raid active dungeons. Real ones. With real monsters. Most of us normal students just studied theory and maybe practiced safe sparring. Those lunatics threw themselves into rifts where one mistake could get you ripped in half.
And now they wanted to throw me in there too?
"This is ridiculous," I said. "I don't even have a proper combat class designation. My aptitude tests literally said 'Support, Not Recommended for Frontline Engagement.'"
The headmaster steepled his fingers. "Consider this… your final chance. Survive in the Division, and you may still graduate. Refuse, and you're expelled."
I froze. Expelled? That wasn't just losing school. That was losing my entire future. Arcane Academy wasn't just a school—it was the school. The government's Hunter Licensing Bureau worked hand-in-hand with it. Without a diploma, I wouldn't even be allowed near a dungeon, much less qualify for a Hunter license. And without a license? No career. No money. No survival.
"…You're really serious about this?" I asked weakly.
"More serious than the monsters waiting for you tomorrow at Gate B-17," he said, his expression as unmoving as stone.
My jaw dropped. "Tomorrow?! You're sending me straight into a dungeon on day one? What happened to orientation week? Ice breakers? A campus tour?"
The headmaster ignored me and stamped some paperwork. "Report at 0600 hours. You'll be assigned to a squad leader who will ensure you… adapt."
I groaned, sinking back into my chair. My obituary was practically writing itself: Here lies Eiden Kurose. He died because he skipped gym class too many times.
Before I could spiral further into despair, the office door slammed open with a bang loud enough to rattle the bookshelves.
I flinched so hard I nearly fell out of my chair.
A girl strode into the room, boots echoing against the polished floor. Her long crimson hair blazed like fire under the sunlight, and her uniform jacket was scorched and frayed, like she'd walked straight out of an explosion. Strapped across her back was a massive greatsword that looked like it belonged in an epic fantasy rather than a school.
She pointed directly at me.
"This is the new recruit?!" Her voice was sharp, commanding, and just a little terrifying. "He looks like he can't even swing a broom, let alone fight a dungeon beast!"
I blinked at her. "…And you look like you just lost a fight with a flamethrower. Should we really be judging appearances right now?"
Her eyes narrowed to slits. For a second, I was genuinely concerned she might draw that monster of a sword and cut me in half on the spot.
The headmaster coughed politely, breaking the tension. "Eiden Kurose, meet Aria Veyron. Second-year prodigy, top of her class, and your new squad leader."
"Squad… leader?" I repeated, dread settling into my stomach.
Aria groaned, dragging a gloved hand across her face. "You've got to be kidding me. Headmaster, I asked for capable recruits—hunters-in-training, warriors, anyone with combat experience. Not…" She waved a hand at me like I was a particularly disappointing side dish. "…this."
"Be grateful," the headmaster said curtly. "Few students have the… flexibility to join your division mid-semester. You'll train him, or he'll die. Either way, paperwork will be simpler."
I shot up from my seat. "Hold on, those are not the only two options here!"
Neither of them listened.
Aria sighed heavily, then turned to me with eyes blazing. "Listen up, rookie. Tomorrow morning, 0600 sharp, you meet me at Gate B-17. Bring your issued weapon, gear, and at least a backbone. If you're late, I'll drag you there myself—unconscious if necessary."
"Wait," I stammered. "Weapon? Gear? I don't even—"
She was already gone, stomping out of the office as fiercely as she'd entered.
The headmaster stamped another paper with finality. "Dismissed."
I stood there for a long moment, folder still clutched in my sweaty hands, trying to process everything. Monster Suppression Division. Squad leader from hell. Dungeon raid at six in the morning.
My life had officially derailed.
And it wasn't stopping anytime soon.
---
That night, I lay on my dorm bed staring at the ceiling. My roommate was out, probably enjoying a normal, safe life as a Theory student. Meanwhile, I was preparing to march straight into a death trap.
I flipped open the black folder. Inside was a thin manual labeled "Division Orientation Guide." The first page read:
Welcome, Cadet. By joining the Monster Suppression Division, you accept the responsibility of defending humanity against dungeon incursions. The Division does not tolerate weakness, hesitation, or failure.
Great. Super welcoming.
I skimmed further. Gear requisition forms, squad assignment charts, dungeon safety protocols that boiled down to "don't die."
And finally, at the very back, a single line of encouragement:
Only the strong survive. Prove yourself worthy.
I shut the folder and rubbed my temples. "I'm doomed."
Somewhere deep inside, though, a tiny spark of something else flickered. Not excitement, exactly… but maybe curiosity. I'd always avoided danger, convinced myself I wasn't cut out for real combat. But what if… just maybe… this was my chance to prove otherwise?
Or maybe I really would die tomorrow.
Either way, my boring life was officially over.
And the Monster Suppression Division was waiting.