Rana's familiar hopped over to the demon's remains, its amphibian tongue curling around the chunks of the fallen creature before swallowing them whole.
Turning her attention to the awe-struck students, Rana beamed. "Meet my handy little companion, an inventory frog.
It's like a walking storage unit, with its stomach being a whole separate dimension. Demon parts, especially from mid-class demons and up, are prime goods for it."
The students gaped at her, soaking in the unexpected lesson. Derek, however, was more attuned to his surroundings, his senses on high alert.
Though he detected nothing, he acknowledged that if something wanted to stay off his radar, it could easily do so.
"And you know those funky-tasting potions Doc Aki has you gulp down whenever you're banged up?"
Rana continued, her expression all innocence. "Guess what, they're brewed from monster eyes and all sorts of freaky stuff like that."
"Ew, seriously? I drank one of those before!"
"Wait, what? So I chowed down on a demon eye? That's just nasty!"
Whispers and mutters swept through the students, only to taper off when Adventurer Chain stepped into the scene, positioning himself next to Rana. He gave her a brisk thwack on the back of her head.
"You really need to watch what you spill, especially around the rookies. What if one of 'em hesitates to gulp a potion in a life-or-death situation?"
"S-Sorry, Mr. Chain," Rana mumbled, embarrassment painting her features as she scratched the back of her head.
Derek couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Here was this adventurer, acting more like a fellow student than an instructor.
"Pull yourself together and act like a professional. You're not my student anymore!" Adventurer Chain chided, punctuating his words with a light karate chop above Rana's head.
It was a sight to see – a teacher scolding a fellow Senior as if they were kids on the playground.
But then, this was Adventurer Chain, an enigma wrapped in combat prowess.
Venturing deeper into the Haunted Forest, the landscape shifted, and the expansive grassland vanished from sight.
Adventurer Chain signaled a halt, passing three scrolls to his fellow adventurers.
A discreet throat-clearing preceded his announcement. "Alright, time to split into teams.
We've done the math and ensured each team's got a fair mix. The team that underperforms will face consequences."
The scrolls found their way to the designated adventurers, and one by one, they read off the chosen names.
Group one formed around Agon pitted alongside his rival Sei and eight other members whose names slipped Derek's mind.
Personally, the last thing Derek wanted was to form personal connections with those who might meet a grim fate.
The weight of their impending doom hung heavy, and he couldn't bear getting close, knowing the probable outcome.
The first group was led by the Warrior Adventurer, a mountain of muscle whose veins seemed ready to burst.
In a different world, this guy would've easily clinched a Mr. Olympia title. "No worries, folks! Trust in these bulging biceps!"
Was every high-level Exorcist a quirky character? This guy, a mere background figure in the Manga, was already off the charts when it came to eccentricity.
The second team housed Bets, who'd drawn the short straw by being supervised by Adventurer Chain himself. Collective morale seemed to dip at this revelation.
"Man, we got the strict one!"
"We're doomed, seriously!"
"This is gonna be a nightmare!"
Despite the grumbles, Derek couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Among the adventurers, being under Professor Chain's watchful eye probably ensured the safest odds.
But voicing that sentiment now could be dicey – people might assume he's in cahoots with the enemy, considering his otherworldly knowledge.
No, he needed to play along, pretend he's as clueless as the rest. Just go with the flow for now.
As for Bets' team, he stood out like a colossus amidst them. Familiar faces from the Manga indicated some degree of balance, making Team 2 seem like it might just have a fighting chance.
Bets ambled over to his group, mustering a smile. "Hey, let's give it our all."
His attempt was met with a synchronized bow from most members of the second team. "You got it, Boss!"
It had an oddly Yakuza vibe, and Bets didn't say much. To an observer, it might seem like he was observing the proceedings coldly, as if this were a mundane occurrence.
But Derek could bet his last copper that Bets was likely a nervous wreck inside. Socially awkward giants tend to crumble in these situations – throw in an internet shutdown, and he'd be the poster child for a hikikomori.
Lastly, the third and final group materialized – Derek's. Accompanied by the Summoner and Blaster adventurers as supervisors, the group held one standout member: the silver-haired girl.
Derek's heart raced as he suddenly realized that something was seriously off with the group he had ended up in.
Like seriously, heart-pounding, mind-boggling off. He was supposed to be chillin' with the main dude and his frenemy, but here he was, totally misplaced, like a character in a sitcom who stumbled onto the wrong set.
Fuzzy memories from way back in the original novel started doing the cha-cha in his brain.
I mean, we're talking like flipping through the pages of a book after you've had a couple of shots – not exactly a razor-sharp recollection.
But one thing was crystal clear, and it hit him like a caffeine rush after an all-nighter – everyone on the silver-haired chick's team was destined for a one-way ticket to Doomsville.
Yeah, even the big-shot adventurers bit the dust.
Apparently, this was the traumatic turning point that transformed her into the sweetest thing since Grandma's apple pie – the hero with a heart of gold.
It was like a light bulb moment that made Derek's own heart go kaboom.
Like, damn, their lives were hanging on a friggin' string, and each step they took was playing a game of Destiny Roulette, no matter how mundane it seemed.
So, picture this: The Haunted Forest, right? It's like the Forest of Bad Vibes, where every single footstep you take is a wild test of whether you're gonna survive to see tomorrow or become the monster's happy hour snack.
It's like stepping onto the set of a reality TV show where Destiny is the host and the contestants gotta get all creative with fate's pen to write a brand-new script for themselves.
Derek couldn't help but chuckle nervously, feeling like he'd accidentally walked into some cosmic game night where the stakes were higher than a giraffe's neck.
And as he looked around at his new, not-so-friendly friends, he couldn't help but think, "Well, here's to hoping I've got some good luck stashed in my back pocket."