Let’s say there are two game characters.
One is a black mage, and the other is a red mage.
Putting aside their appearance, personality, or preferences—if you had to choose only one based on overall factors, which would you pick as a player?
—Correct! The beauty!
That’s right.
If the player is male, odds are ten to one he’ll pick the beautiful woman.
I would also, if the differences between the two weren’t too significant, always go with the woman.
In a game, that is.
But what if this is a game, and there is a huge difference between the two?
Imagine an RPG where the maximum level is 99, but under certain conditions, you can reach up to level 107.
Now, say one is a man who has the potential to reach level 80, and the other is a beautiful woman who, no matter what, can’t go beyond level 50.
—Still, I’d pick the beauty even if it kills me!
There might be some who’d say that.
But usually, when the potential gap is this large, people tend to care more about a character’s specs than their gender.
Even with a gender difference, people will often go for the one with the higher ceiling.
And if both are women?
Even if their looks differ, wouldn’t magical talent—and being able to foresee their future—matter more than appearance?
‘It’s no different from opening Pandora’s box, but once it’s open, it’s hard to resist the sweetness inside.’
This applies even in web novels—regression stories or game-possessed stories alike.
At first, the protagonist might encounter someone who’s dismissed, looked down on, or even enslaved—but chooses to build rapport with that person from the start.
Just like how I began building favor with Yunia as soon as I discovered her—because I was convinced she would become someone incredible, so I treated her well and built up her favorability.
If she were just some C-rank level character who might be appealing as a person but wouldn’t amount to anything in the coming Apocalypse, would I have bothered to care for her like I do the current members of the special class in the Old School Building?
Not at all.
In Evangeline’s case, she was a princess of the Ercy Empire, and I had the conviction that I could raise her into that kind of existence.
If I wanted to just take any beautiful woman and turn her into an S-rank, I’d be in the main building of the Academy, infusing magic into every female student to make them all go Kyun Kyun.
Anyway.
Inside the illusion we’ve set up—the space made of mirrors—we can glimpse a person’s future potential.
Just like how that blond and tanned delinquent boy, Jupiter, is swallowing nervously while staring at the illusion—the high potential—of that girl.
“Phoenix. Is that fake?”
“No, it’s real. That’s a future she could reach.”
I replied honestly to Instructor Esta, who was pointing at the illusion of the female student’s future peak inside the Mirror Room.
“No one knows whether she’ll actually reach it or not. How long it will take, whether it’s even possible. She could fail midway, or give up, and waste all her talent.”
“So it’s not a scam…”
“Right. Definitely not. It’s just the peak she could reach if she puts in the noooooooble effort.”
Maximum level.
That’s all it is—a projected future based on that form.
The most extreme manifestation of it appears in her mana pockets—her mana pool.
“When someone enters that space, I scan them with magic. Then, based on their innate talent, I shape an illusion that shows how far they could grow. It’s basically a glimpse of a possible future.”
“So there’s no guarantee she’ll actually become like that?”
“Exactly. It just means that if that female student gets stronger, she might look like that. Something along those lines. It’s not like I’ve seen the actual future or anything.”
It’s not like I’ve seen the future.
But I do know it—as someone who remembers seeing the ending of a game character during gameplay.
“I don’t even know that female student’s name. What is it?”
“She’s called Hania.”
“Senior Hania? I see. She looks like a commoner now, but maybe that student, Jupiter, felt his heart pound, saw her potential, and is now imagining her as his future wife.”
In truth, I know both of them.
In-game, they can end up as a couple—or become enemies, depending on the player’s choices.
It really is all about player decisions.
If you keep putting them in the same party, sending them on practice missions together, and actively go through all the mutual event flags, you’ll get to see a wedding event where they marry at the end.
That’s not just for Jupiter and Hania, but also for other supporting characters.
I was able to instantly create illusions of familiar faces and their familiar futures—but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t create illusions for characters the player hasn’t interacted with yet.
“Instructor Esta, about this idea of a peak potential—does it really have to be that person’s peak?”
“…What?”
“What do you think is the most important quality for choosing a partner here at Esdinas Academy? More specifically, the criteria for selecting a lifelong partner upon graduation.”
“Well…”
Instructor Esta blushed slightly and lowered her gaze.
“…Children?”
“Yes, exactly. To give birth to outstanding children, one must seek a partner with exceptional magical talent.”
Officially, it’s framed as “magical aptitude,” but in truth, it’s about genetics.
“This generation might not show especially strong potential. But what if that illusion of Hania, the female student… isn’t her own peak, but a vision of her descendant?”
“…Then the opposite could be true as well.”
Instructor Esta pointed a finger upward.
“An ancestor, perhaps.”
“That can happen too.”
“You… Can you actually see something like that?”
“It’s not like I can recreate a specific ancestor or descendant. I just shape an illusion based on the talent hidden in their blood—reflected as a possible ancestor or descendant.”
All of it, illusions I fabricate.
“So… are you going to show these illusions every time someone visits?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. Only in very special cases. And even then… just once.”
As I held up a single finger, Instructor Esta’s expression stiffened.
“That way, the person will start thinking of the other as their ‘fated one.’ They’ll start fixating on them, can’t stop thinking about them, lose sleep, and eventually imagine grandchildren and an S-rank heir who will bring glory to their family name.”
“So you’re saying…”
“They might bring someone else next time, sure. But if that person sees nothing—just an ordinary mirror room—while only one individual sees a vision?”
“They might start asking questions. About what’s going on here.”
“If anyone asks, just say it’s the blessing of a mystical matchmaking deity.”
Thus, the divine blessing of the Kyun-Kyun God is born.
* * *
– They say you can see your destined partner if you go inside!
Because of that rumor, Kyung-Kyung Palace No. 1 is now overflowing with visitors.
Why?
‘It’s like a gacha draw.’
Because it’s fun to roll the dice.
You might find a hidden gem—an unnoticed commoner or an unscratched lottery ticket that turns out to be a jackpot.
That said, when couples enter, we do show them visions as well.
If they’re already together, we might show them married, laughing together as they hold hands with their future child, or living happily at an amusement park or somewhere similar.
And after that, they usually leave hand-in-hand, awkward but closer.
“Seems like business is going better than expected, right, Instructor?”
“Calling this business feels a bit off, but… yes, considering how many are showing up, it’s quite something.”
Kyun-Kyun Palace now receives so many daily visitors that the faculty staff have to regulate the crowd.
“We’ll need to expand beyond just the first branch.”
“Managing all those illusions won’t be easy, though.”
“No, it won’t. Which is why I’m planning to build an automated system.”
“Automated… system?”
“Yes.”
When it comes to illusions, there are experts in this field.
“It might sound a bit controversial, but we just need to summon demons.”
“De—what?”
“Demons. The Demon Race. Devils. Demonfolk. That type.”
It was an incredibly dangerous suggestion, but Instructor Esta, instead of drawing the sword at her waist, paused to steady her breathing and adjust her stance.
“…What kind of demon?”
“A Kyun-Kyun Demon.”
“…What?”
“Unlike angels, there are plenty of demons who enjoy watching these kinds of things.”
Kyun Kyun.
“No fighting. Just… wholesome ‘O’s. We’ll summon demons like that, have them show the illusions to the couples that come in, and help them reach their… O’s.”
Ah.
It’s a dance.
