Hong Si-yu received a report that Jeong Jae-ha was hopeless with guns.
‘An Awakened Hunter does not need to be able to shoot. How can someone be good at everything?’
She did not think she was giving him special treatment.
Shooting was not an especially important quality for an Awakened Hunter in the first place.
“One point per hour, six points per week, and twelve points total over the remaining two weeks. Would that be all right?”
Twelve points was just enough to make up for the points he had lost in shooting.
“Thank you.”
Jeong Jae-ha bowed politely.
“Oh, not at all. We should be thanking you. Ah, we will accept applications and send the students over from our side. Is that all right?”
“Of course.”
“Then I look forward to the remaining two weeks. If you do well, I will reward you generously again, so please do your best. All right?”
Hong Si-yu liked his neat attitude.
Creeeak.
As she watched Jeong Jae-ha's back while he left the room, she thought.
How nice it would be if people simply gave thanks for things worth thanking for, and apologized for things worth apologizing for.
How nice it would be if everyone did.
‘It would be good if he picked them out well.’
Hong Si-yu did not enjoy this project.
She was an Awakened who had escaped only after surviving against Demon Beasts and looters in isolated Seoul.
Shameless criminals made her teeth grind.
‘Those trash bastards.’
But this country was in a situation where it had to search through food-waste bins for anything edible.
With that resolve, she had started this project and found Jeong Jae-ha.
He was a lotus blooming from mud.
And if that flower could draw out other seeds too, there could be nothing better.
“Assistant Manager Lee.”
“Yes, Section Chief.”
Hong Si-yu had learned over the four-year period of collapse that one must not skimp on investing in talent.
“Place an order for Status Window Rings.”
“Did you not say they were artifacts too expensive to give to former criminals?”
Especially when backing someone, she believed in supporting them properly.
“The center will own and lend them. Give one or two only to the top student or runner-up.”
“Understood.”
Jeong Jae-ha deserved to obtain a Skill.
‘Becoming the top student of the Tutorial should be easy for him, right?’
Hong Si-yu smiled smoothly and brought up Jeong Jae-ha's personal details.
They were documents necessary for hiring him as an outside instructor.
‘He has a younger sister.’
[Younger sister Jeong Chae-ha. Guitar and singer-songwriter major. She appears to have been extremely close to Fencer Jeong…….]
‘Jeong Chae-ha? I have heard that name somewhere.’
An unfamiliar yet familiar name was there.
‘If I remember her, she must be a Hunter or a public servant. At the very least, she must be as strong or highly ranked as I am.’
She could not remember why the name was familiar.
“Assistant Manager Lee.”
“Yes?”
“Ask the Awakened Management Administration to look for someone named Jeong Chae-ha too.”
“Is she Awakened Jeong Jae-ha's family? You are taking quite an interest in him.”
“Well, you should give someone what they like if you want to keep them around for a long time.”
Yet when she murmured the name in her mouth, a shudder ran through her for some reason.
***
Two days later.
“Fencer Jeong is here!”
“Hello!”
I met the Awakened in the gymnasium where we had practiced swordsmanship.
“Huh?”
“Hyung! Thank you so much for your advice that day!”
Lee Hae-il sat at the very front of the stage.
Her eyes, holding light like broken sunlight, sparkled as she looked at me.
She occasionally turned toward the door with an anxious look. Seeing the smooth line of her throat then, she seemed to be a woman after all.
Why she dressed as a man and stayed with male prisoners, I did not know, nor did I particularly want to know.
It was enough that she had come to learn diligently.
“Hello. I am Jeong Jae-ha, and I will be in charge of the additional after-school swordsmanship lessons. To briefly introduce my credentials……”
I introduced myself and the curriculum in order.
“……First, I plan to give a brief introduction to modern swordsmanship theory, followed by practical training.”
I had acted as a guest instructor for juniors from my alma mater several times, so I was reasonably confident in teaching too.
“Jeong Jae-ha!”
BANG!
The gymnasium door opened as though it had been smashed apart.
Kim Gang-o stood there, his scorpion tattoos exposed on both arms as he breathed heavily.
In his hand was a long blade with a roughly sharpened edge.
A makeshift sword made by tearing off a metal bed frame.
I had heard from a guard that inmates sometimes made weapons in such ways.
To have made one even after coming here.
He was certainly diligent.
“You bastard, you let those guys in but left me out? Do you think I am a joke? Or are you afraid of me?”
He pointed the makeshift blade at Lee Hae-il and several others as though stabbing them.
“Let us hear the standard you used to leave me out. If you cannot explain it, I will not leave any of these bastards alone.”
At the gangster's distinctive violent aura, Lee Hae-il and several people he had singled out gasped.
For some reason, I felt Kim Gang-o was conscious of Lee Hae-il.
Perhaps he was angrier that Lee Hae-il had been accepted than that he himself had been excluded.
Well, the reason did not matter.
Hong Si-yu must have expected something like this, and I had prepared for it too.
In the world of sports, there were as many people who refused to accept the outcome of selection as there were reasons they should not behave that way.
“All right, everyone. We will change the order of the lecture. I will introduce what we will learn over the next two weeks.”
There was also an established way to drive such people out of the industry.
“I will demonstrate how to subdue an opponent, so watch the movements carefully.”
I grabbed a blunt practice sword from the table on the stage.
“You fucking bastard!”
Kim Gang-o rushed at me with his makeshift sword raised.
“Huh?”
“Watch out!”
The Awakened split to the sides and made a path.
Kim Gang-o's face was filled with murderous intent.
Seeing that expression made the corners of my mouth pull upward again.
“…….”
I knew it was insane, but this situation was not entirely unpleasant.
In fact, it was a little welcome.
I enjoyed wielding a sword with a variety of feelings.
Normally, I held a sword out of respect for my opponent or pride in myself.
That was good enough, and it was how things should be.
I could not truly think of a competition opponent or a club sparring partner as an enemy.
But a sword was a tool born to cut and stab enemies.
There were times when I wanted to display my pure skill without considering my opponent, or simply wanted to knock them down without any guilt.
In modern society, there were very few opponents against whom that was acceptable.
That was why I secretly welcomed it whenever gangsters came claiming they would challenge the dojo.
Like today.
“Die!”
Prey had walked in on its own feet.
Kim Gang-o's sword rose toward my left shoulder.
For all his character flaws, it was a fairly sharp slash.
At an amateur level.
“Parry Quarte Riposte!”
CLANG!
“Ugh!?”
I loudly called out the name of the technique and lightly knocked his sword aside.
“……!?”
Kim Gang-o looked as though something impossible had happened.
“Surprised?”
I had wanted to see that expression.
It felt as though I had driven home one point: someone who learned swordsmanship to bully others could never defeat someone like me, who enjoyed swordsmanship itself.
What was superior proved its value by breaking what was inferior.
As though teasing Kim Gang-o, I thrust at his left shoulder.
It did not penetrate because it was a practice sword, but it would leave a bruise.
“Whoa!”
Exclamations burst from among the Awakened.
Those sounds helped center my mind.
I could have subdued Kim Gang-o immediately, but I chose not to.
“All right. Parry Quarte Riposte. It means the fourth defensive position, which blocks the upper left, followed by a counterattack.”
This stage was for me, but it was also for them.
“I will show you all six positions, so remember them well.”
I took a breath and continued the lesson.
***
There was something Coach, who called me the Greatest Swordsman Under Heaven, said every day.
‘Jae-ha. What is martial chivalry? It means being strong and righteous. Martial arts are what the weak use to stand against the tyranny of the strong.’
‘Coach, I am a fencing athlete from the twenty-first century. I am not the protagonist of an eleventh-century martial chivalry novel.’
‘Listen. This is advice that will all serve you well. Right. Martial arts are what the weak use to stand against the strong. That is why defense is more important than attack in martial arts.’
Defense was more important than attack.
‘You have so much talent that you can win through offense alone for now, but someday you will reach a limit. You must master defense and counterattacks until they become instinctive.’
Except for the talk about martial chivalry, it was all correct.
“Some of you may wonder whether swordsmanship is not simply about charging in and thrusting.”
Anyone who had learned martial arts knew that was a foolish question, but many people would stumble if asked why it was foolish.
A martial art was a system of techniques for defeating a strong opponent without getting hurt yourself.
Therefore, whether it was kendo, fencing, Western swordsmanship, or even unarmed combat such as MMA, there was ultimately one core principle.
“It is simple. If you only charge in and thrust or strike, you cannot protect yourself.”
Through defense, you made an opportunity to attack safely.
“When you block an opponent's attack, their movement is interrupted and they inevitably create an opening. That is when you thrust them properly.”
I shouted loudly enough for all hundred or so Awakened spread out in a circle to hear.
“What the fuck are you talking about!? Are you playing with me right now!”
Kim Gang-o's face turned red as he shouted.
He raised the makeshift sword again.
SWISH!
This time, he aimed for my right leg.
Considering my injury history, it was a fairly good strategy.
CLANG, CLANG!
Parry Octave Riposte.
I easily blocked it, then deeply thrust his side.
THUNK!
“Ugh!”
I had struck hard between his ribs, so he would have trouble breathing.
“Parry Octave Riposte. It is the eighth defensive position that blocks the lower right, followed by a counterattack.”
Thanks to that, Kim Gang-o slowed down, allowing me to demonstrate a more stable stance.
“Uaaagh!”
“Ah, it is that one again already. The fourth defensive position that blocks the upper left. Parry Quarte Riposte. It has appeared twice, so you should remember it now.”
It was not simply a difference between fencing and kendo.
‘My disciple is the Greatest Swordsman Under Heaven and the Lord of the Hundred Weapons. Hehe.’
From the beginning, I had learned modern kendo, Japanese classical swordsmanship, Western swordsmanship, and even dagger throwing. I was good at all of them.
What mattered was not what martial art you had learned, but the people with whom you had exchanged techniques intensely as you developed your skill.
Kim Gang-o would probably lose all ten out of ten fights against an instructor from a local kendo dojo with the same third-dan rank.
“Parry means defense. The Sixte or Quarte in the middle refers to the sixth or fourth position, while Riposte means counterattack.”
“Jeong Jae-haaa!”
“Difficult, right? That is because French and English are mixed together. Still, you will get used to it if you work hard, so everyone, focus.”
It was so easy that I was almost becoming irritated.
He was too weak an opponent to have fun against.
“You bastard, are you playing with me right now?! Agh!”
“You blocked the left leg and thrust, right? That is Parry Septime Riposte. It means the seventh defensive position that blocks the lower left, followed by a counterattack.”
To say things like “I will kill you” with only this much skill. Was he not ashamed?
“I will kill you! Aagh, aaagh! Fuck, my eyes!”
“This time, Parry Neuvième Riposte. It is the ninth position, which guards the shoulders and neck before counterattacking. It has common ground with Quinte, the fifth defensive position.”
Still, opponents who truly came at me intending to defeat me were rare. I should cherish one a little.
CLANG, CLANG!
I slowly demonstrated defense and counterattacks.
Laughter kept trying to escape, so I worked hard to hold it in.
My facial muscles kept pulling upward.
There had been little to laugh about during the past four years in prison, but since entering the training institute, I had found many reasons to smile.
With every attack, Kim Gang-o staggered or groaned after being struck precisely where he had aimed.
Of course, he did not collapse.
It was not because he was tough.
I was controlling my strength.
The head, neck, upper left and right, and lower left and right—a total of six positions.
He needed to keep rushing at me until I could demonstrate all of them.