Mission: The Trial of Yeon Ga
Kim Jun tied 5-kilogram sandbags around his ankles.
He double-checked the sandbags strapped tightly to his arms and waist to ensure they wouldn't slip off during jumps.
The added weight from the sandbags totaled 30 kilograms.
Kim Jun eyed the wall in the underground training room.
A sheet of white paper, 50 centimeters wide and 5 meters tall, was affixed to the wall. Lines were drawn every 10 centimeters, with thicker blue lines every 50 centimeters and red lines every meter.
He pulled an inkpad from his pocket, popped the lid, and dipped his finger in the red ink.
"Hoo."
Taking a deep breath, Kim Jun circulated his internal energy according to the Mukhonbo principles and jumped.
It was the Tan formula.
He stretched his hand as high as possible. The ink on his finger would mark the paper on the wall, revealing exactly how high he'd leaped.
But before his power could fully settle—
"Argh!"
Kim Jun felt his balance crumble and tumbled to the floor. He flipped in midair instinctively, but the sandbags made a proper landing impossible.
Thud!
"Ow, damn it! Not easy, huh?"
His hand hadn't even grazed the wall.
His left leg had surged upward with the Tan formula despite the sandbag, but his right leg felt heavier, barely lifting 30 centimeters off the ground.
That imbalance had thrown him off-center.
He hadn't expected success on the first try, so Kim Jun swallowed his groan and stood.
As he walked back to the wall, he analyzed the issue.
Hard to keep balanced. Both legs need the exact same amount of internal energy injected, and the circulation has to be identical.
Kim Jun tried again.
This time, both legs sprang up with Tan, but the timing was off.
His left leg went first, ruining his balance, and then his right leg snapped like a spring, spinning him twice in the air before he flopped down.
Three attempts became ten.
Ten turned into a hundred, but rather than mastering the Mukhonbo Tan, he just accumulated minor scrapes.
Exhaustion was the bonus.
Kim Jun only paused when his thigh and calf muscles cramped, and even then, no more than a minute. He minimized breaks because he hated letting his heated body and mind cool down.
Once his self-imposed training reps surpassed a thousand, even Kim Jun hit his limit.
His fingertips trembled, and a sweet, acrid taste filled his mouth.
Yet he could still smile through it.
The thrill of pushing limits bubbled up, and bit by bit—undeniably—his skill was improving.
One more?
He recalled the sensation just before his legs gave out moments ago.
Tan's power was incredible. Such force with barely any effort! If he'd surrendered to the flow a little more...
Then, unconsciously, his body floated into the air.
Tap.
His fingertip touched the 3-meter mark.
A vivid red fingerprint stained the paper.
The landing was still botched. Sprawled out, Kim Jun stared at the mark.
Nice!
Three meters was nearly rim height on a basketball hoop.
Wearing 30 kilograms of sandbags and hitting three meters! If I can really master this...
Springing up, Kim Jun jumped again.
Hoping to recreate the miracle—but he tumbled rightward instead.
Another thousand reps.
Now he felt like he couldn't move even if he died and came back.
Kim Jun lay on the sweat-soaked floor, gazing at the white paper. In two thousand jumps, his finger had marked it properly only three times.
301 centimeters.
305 centimeters.
309 centimeters.
His records were inching up.
Gurgle.
During a brief rest, a mighty rumble echoed through the quiet training room. Kim Jun rose and headed upstairs.
The house was empty. Everyone must be out on their own errands. Only the three cats frolicked excitedly in the garden.
Kim Jun started boiling ramen like it was his own kitchen.
His mind was consumed with Mukhonbo Tan training. How could he master it more effectively?
It was too quiet, so he flicked on the TV. An NBA game came on—a guard's slick pass to the center, who caught it midair and slammed it home.
Alley-oop dunk!
Kim Jun carried the pot, kimchi, and cold rice to the living room.
To eat while watching basketball.
As he devoured five packs of ramen, his eyes widened at the game.
"Ah!"
He whipped out his phone and searched nearby.
Several places could install a basketball hoop right away. Price didn't matter. Chewing noodles, he made calls and settled on a company that could do it immediately.
Only after hanging up did he realize he hadn't asked Yoo Min-jeong's permission. This was Uramata Guild's temporary base, but it was undeniably her house.
No—Yoo Wan-seop's house.
What would Yoo Wan-seop, training in the Jiri Mountains, say if he returned today and saw the hoop in the basement training room?
Setting down his chopsticks, Kim Jun stepped into the garden and scouted around. No way a hoop would fit down there.
He needed a spot.
"There!"
The open space in front of the garage wall was wide enough for 3-on-3 if he mounted the hoop there.
Thrilled, he returned, dumped cold rice into the pot, and ate heartily—until the door opened and Yoo Min-jeong emerged. She spotted him first while wiping her forehead and neck with a white towel.
"Eating ramen?"
Startled, Kim Jun spat rice and noodles.
"I'm not stealing any."
Shaking her head, Yoo Min-jeong grabbed wet wipes and cleaned the floor.
"Weren't you out?"
"I was in the simulator. Tough solo monster hunt after so long."
"Ah, got it."
"Why the long face?"
"...What about it?"
"It's different from usual."
"It's not. Same as always."
Kim Jun hurriedly shoveled down his ramen rice.
Then the doorbell rang. Kim Jun bolted up at blinding speed and reached the intercom in a flash.
It was Skyla. He opened the garage door and casually returned to his pot.
Yoo Min-jeong planted herself between him and the TV, hands on hips.
"Another cactus?"
"...No."
"Something else, then."
Kim Jun nodded slowly.
"What? Spill. I won't get mad."
As Kim Jun opened his mouth, Skyla entered, tossed her bag on the sofa, and asked,
"Installing a basketball hoop, by any chance?"
Heavy silence descended.
Quick on the uptake, Skyla grasped the situation and retreated to the garden.
Through the glass, she watched Yoo Min-jeong talk while Kim Jun just listened.
Skyla petted the cats' necks and rears, enjoying the spectacle of Kim Jun on the ropes. Last time, he'd impulse-bought hundreds of cacti, shocking everyone.
He'd claimed it was for martial arts training. So what was the hoop for today?
Go Cheolmin stood before the Cheonhondan headquarters.
The glass exterior reflected sunlight in all directions. Modern, sleek, simple, beautiful. But that wasn't the real Cheonhondan.
He knew the true heart lurked underground beneath the building.
He checked his watch.
Ten minutes until the appointment.
Calling me here means something's up... Damn. Will Sunbae really take Jun as a client? I'd love that, but even if he wants to, will Mun Hyo-rin or Lee Jung-san stay quiet? Sigh... Mountains beyond mountains.
No point overthinking it himself.
Go Cheolmin strode toward the entrance.
Hostile glares poured from all sides.
Colleagues who'd once clapped shoulders and traded crude jokes now stared coldly. Accusations for elevating a mere carrier to their level. Ever since Kim Jun went viral, raiders' attitudes toward Go Cheolmin had turned icy and aggressive.
Go Cheolmin rode the escalator as calmly as possible.
Cheonhondan headquarters, basement level 1.
The space where ordinary buildings turned into Cheonhondan.
Already sweltering with heat. Intense gazes from passersby, packed with raiders. One of Korea's top training grounds, with nothing lacking for them.
One side featured a 50-meter pool.
Next to it, an aquatic rehab area for injured raiders, where many strolled to loosen up.
Even better than before.
Go Cheolmin felt a pang of nostalgia watching them.
Then basement level 2.
Truly the core of Cheonhondan from here. Faces differed—sharper, more intense. Level 1 was open; level 2 was raiders-only. Secrets lay beyond, accessible only to the permitted.
Go Cheolmin recalled his days here.
Full of dreams back then...
But stagnation soured it over time. He'd left, lived fiercely since.
"Hey, what brings you here?"
Mun Hyo-rin, emerging from the training room wiping sweat with a towel, spotted him.
"Here to see Choi Min-su sunbae."
"Appointment?"
"Yes."
"Alright. See me first, quick."
She grabbed his arm and dragged him to the lounge.
At the small counter, Mun Hyo-rin ordered coffee lightly. Cheonhondan's pro barista handiwork—smooth pulls. She handed two cups and led him to a corner.
Nearby raiders flinched and backed away.
"Min-su sent gloves to that old fart Yeon Un-jae."
After hesitating, Mun Hyo-rin leaned in and whispered.
"...Pardon?"
"Don't play dumb. Duel challenge."
"Ah!"
Go Cheolmin finally got it.
"The issue's the stakes... Min-su's got beef with Yeon Ga, sure, but challenging a duel? Association will complain. Taboo. Might even face expulsion. Doesn't fit his style—not this extreme."
"So there's another reason?"
"Yeah, but we don't know. Me, Jung-san—nobody. He just smiles no matter how we ask. Damn it. So, can you ask him? You know how much he dotes on you."
"...Would he tell me?"
"Dunno. If not you, he'll never spill."
Go Cheolmin pondered.
"Yes, I'll ask."
"Really?"
"Yes. But do me one unconditional favor in return."
"Unconditional?"
Mun Hyo-rin's eyes widened. Had this man ever said "favor"? Go Cheolmin had steel like Choi Min-su, as far as she knew.
"A favor?"
"Yes."
Go Cheolmin kept his face neutral.
"Suspicious..."
"Right? But I have to ask Choi Min-su sunbae that too."
"Damn."
Mun Hyo-rin glared poutily, then downed her coffee.
"Fine. If it's not weird. But no tricks."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And secret. Nobody outside knows. Only seven here do now. Got it? Shh!"
She pinched her nose, extracting promises thrice before releasing him. Go Cheolmin hurried to Choi Min-su.
"Late."
"Traffic."
Go Cheolmin replied evenly.
Choi Min-su led him to a small inner room. A wooden table held freshly brewed tea, its aroma filling the air.
Go Cheolmin sat across from him on a cushion.
He sipped, but tasted nothing. Every move Choi Min-su made drew excessive focus. Damn! Sunbae Mun's words stick.
"Curious why I summoned you?"
"Yes."
"Straight to it: I've decided to take the kid as my client."
"Sunbae!"
Overjoyed, his grip crushed the tiny teacup.
"Ah! That was my favorite."
"S-sorry...!"
Flustered, Go Cheolmin was stopped by Choi Min-su's hearty laugh.
"Don't get too excited."
Choi Min-su handed a handkerchief. Go Cheolmin wiped his wet hands carefully.
"Another patroness. One you won't guess."
Choi Min-su's eyes gleamed oddly.
Go Cheolmin's gut twisted forebodingly. He'd regret even asking once Choi spoke.
"...Another patroness?"
"Yeon Un-jae. Joint patroness, essentially."
"......"
Go Cheolmin closed his eyes. Instinct nailed it again.
He stared, hoping for a joke. No sign.
"Taking Kim Jun to Yeon Ga tomorrow. Meeting the family head to finalize, but joint patroness is set. Thought you should know first."
"...Related to the duel challenge?"
"Ha, met Lady Mun. Yes, deeply. Without duel pressure, Yeon Ga head wouldn't accept."
Choi Min-su grinned.
"Are you sane?"
Go Cheolmin's lips twisted.
"I pondered your proposal seriously and proceeded."
"Even so... Yeon Ga?"
"Better way?"
"If you become his patroness, Yeon Ga couldn't touch him recklessly..."
"Don't think client status makes him safe. They touched my son."
Go Cheolmin shut up.
Choi Min-su was right. Patron-client ties wouldn't fully blunt Yeon Ga's blades.
"I get your feelings. But risk is needed for gains. He's a carrier, no? I owe him and must repay, but others don't. You know that. I decided because I owe him—and you. Even my followers will gripe, claim I'm allying with Yeon Ga. Lady Mun, Jung-san might not get it."
"True. I know."
Go Cheolmin grasped the choice's weight late.
If it soured, Choi Min-su lost honor, influence in Cheonhondan.
"Picking him up tomorrow morning. You explain."
"Understood."
Go Cheolmin's shoulders grew heavy.