Breaking the Puppeteer's Strings
Kim Jun realized why Po-noe Strike wasn't manifesting, why the Cheonnoe Heart Technique was lodged stubbornly in his dantian.
It was because he had no idea about the vivid image Yeon Chung-jae had always conjured during practice—the simulation of inner power.
That butterfly!
Kim Jun immediately recalled the scene he'd glimpsed through Yeon Chung-jae's memories.
Dozens of yellow butterflies fluttering inside his palm, tiny lightning bolts ceaselessly sparking into existence between their delicate wings.
At that moment, the Cheonnoe Heart Technique surged from his dantian to his palm in the blink of an eye. Sparks crackled out—pzzt, pzzt.
Startled, Kim Jun recoiled.
As soon as the image faded, the sparks vanished instantly.
Even Jang Man-ho was as shocked as Kim Jun.
"Thank you."
Bowing his head, Kim Jun left the bathroom without a backward glance.
What the hell is with that guy?
Jang Man-ho tilted his head in confusion.
The matches continued, and successful candidates emerged one after another.
Those with two wins had the right to refuse the third test. Most accepted it to aim for three wins and show off their abilities, but not this time.
It was all because of Siuba.
No one wanted to face the guy who'd stripped Raider King candidate Gu Se-jun down to his underwear.
"Siuba."
The supervisor called his name.
Siuba sauntered lazily to the center of the arena and winked at the examinee glaring at him.
"Jang Gi-jun."
"...I forfeit."
No one blamed Jang Gi-jun. The other examinees felt the same.
"Lee Cheol-seong."
"Forfeit."
"Na Kyung-hee."
"...I'll forfeit too."
Forfeits came one after another.
Siuba yawned expansively.
"Kim Jun."
At that instant, Siuba's eyes gleamed.
All eyes turned to Kim Jun.
Kim Jun rose and walked slowly to the arena, stopping before the supervisor.
The supervisor explained the rules and stepped back, declaring, "Begin."
A smile curled on Siuba's lips as he stared at Kim Jun.
"You've got some guts, surprisingly. But it's reckless. You should forfeit too—it's not too late. What, you think you can handle getting stripped naked? That confident, huh?"
"We fighting with words?"
Kim Jun shot back.
"Oho, coming out strong. But you know what? That thing that happened to examinee Gu Se-jun? It's because of you. I'm here to take you down."
"...What?"
Kim Jun recalled Gu Se-jun's dejected figure slinking away, head bowed. Because of him?
"You had no clue, huh. Didn't notice anything off even after fighting Jonathan—or Jo Nam-sik?"
"You too?"
"Yeah."
Siuba grinned slyly.
"Money?"
"Obviously. Why else would I go through this hassle for free? Curious who? Should I tell you or not? Hmm... Fine, if you beat me."
Kim Jun backed away, creating five meters of distance, waiting for his opponent's attack. He had no intention of charging in like Gu Se-jun and giving Siuba an opening.
"Staying put? Not a bad tactic. If you weren't facing me."
Siuba advanced slowly, like he was out for a stroll.
Kim Jun retreated.
Siuba herded him toward the corner bit by bit, but Kim Jun slipped out before the crisis hit, securing space.
After three minutes like this, Siuba's body suddenly accelerated.
Kim Jun flinched and barely dodged the fingers closing in with a Mukhon Step Tan step.
He felt the spider silk energy shooting from the fingertips—like needle-sharp threads aimed at his wrist. Kim Jun twisted his arm, and the silk sliced empty air.
Siuba's eyes narrowed.
Dodged Cheonju Mang? This guy's still lucky as ever.
Siuba's movements quickened further. His painstakingly honed Yongju Divine Method was unleashing its full power.
Kim Jun was busy evading.
As Cheonju Mang missed repeatedly, Siuba realized it wasn't luck.
So he really has the skill to take down Jonathan. But how long can he last?
Around the seven-minute mark, a single strand of Cheonju Mang finally stuck to Kim Jun's shoulder.
Sweat pouring, Kim Jun slowed dramatically.
Strands latched onto his elbow, knee, waist, wrist—everywhere.
At eight minutes, Siuba figured preparations were complete.
"Now, puppet show! Show, show, show!"
The examinees' eyes widened at his shout.
Siuba danced a samba unique to South America. Kim Jun's face twisted in discomfort as he mimicked the moves.
Liking that expression, Siuba approached.
Kim Jun shuffled toward him too.
Two meters apart.
Stripping's not enough for you. Time to pay for wasting my time.
Siuba took a step. One meter.
Siuba pretended to slap his own cheek. Kim Jun smacked his own hard enough to echo.
His cheek swelled red.
Much better. Let's get started.
Siuba beamed at the crowd.
"The nude show everyone's waiting for—starting now!"
Following Siuba's gesture, Kim Jun tore off his top. Muscles as impressive as Gu Se-jun's gleamed.
Kim Jun grabbed his training pants.
The moment Siuba motioned downward, Kim Jun lunged forward.
Siuba dodged reflexively with Yongju Divine Method.
A small bolt erupted from Kim Jun's extended left hand.
Po-noe!
Siuba gathered inner power in his toes and sprang back like a bullet. Still, part of the bolt scorched his hem and grazed his skin.
Ugh!
His vision blacked out momentarily. Thankfully, the physical blackout faded quickly.
Kim Jun staggered briefly but was disappointed to see Siuba standing fine. A perfect opening, perfect timing for Po-noe Strike. He'd been certain it'd drop him like Jo Nam-sik.
The defeat came down to one thing: Siuba's superior footwork.
Even caught off-guard, he'd instantly widened the gap.
Kim Jun's palm throbbed, his forearm twitching with spasms. He had to admit defeat logically, but his heart still burned with fighting spirit. He couldn't lose to a bastard like this.
The supervisor behind Siuba caught his eye, reminding him of an unused weapon.
The essence of Mukhon Step Dang.
He'd never used it, so it wasn't in Siuba's head. One more ambush was possible.
The problem was his hand.
Kim Jun inspected the burn.
Hold on just a bit longer.
"How are you still moving? Releasing Cheonju Mang—impressive. For a carrier, anyway."
The moment Siuba asked with arrogant confidence, Kim Jun charged.
"Useless. Ambush failed—think you can do anything now?"
Siuba sneered, shifting direction. Kim Jun's steps were fast but linear, easy to predict.
Kim Jun's eyes flashed.
Got you.
With speed and direction he'd never shown before, Kim Jun cut off Siuba—the first Mukhon Step Dang.
The smirk vanished from Siuba's face.
But battle-hardened instincts had his body already moving out of Po-noe range.
Same as before. Po-noe won't reach. If it could stretch farther... Ah! Right!
Kim Jun clasped his hands together and unleashed Po-noe Strike in that stance. The Cheonnoe Heart Technique flowed from both palms simultaneously, erupting as a powerful blast.
What the—?
Siuba's eyes bulged.
Po-noe engulfed him.
Sparks crackled wildly, burrowing into his chest, spreading through his heart to his whole body.
Siuba trembled and dropped to his knees.
Kim Jun stood panting before him.
The aftershocks of Po-noe rampaging inside made Siuba's teeth chatter audibly from afar.
Siuba forced his head up, eyes full of questions.
Kim Jun spread his arms wide.
Only then did Siuba notice the black dots where Cheonju Mang had stuck—marks that had nullified the webs.
"Who sent you?"
Kim Jun demanded.
"...Ju Shin."
Siuba collapsed face-first.
The supervisor checked him and called for medics.
"...That was awesome."
One examinee finally approached after hesitating forever.
Kim Jun barely reacted.
"The best! Felt so satisfying. But what was that skill? Looked like electricity. Yeon Ga technique?"
His lively companion chimed in.
"Something like that."
Kim Jun replied curtly.
Examinees swarmed, offering congratulations—no mockery or disdain. All grateful he'd beaten Siuba for them.
They'd ignored him before, but now attitudes flipped overnight.
A handsome guy as good-looking as Gu Se-jun approached.
"I'm Kang Hyeonseong. Incredible match. That was Po-noe Strike, right?"
Kim Jun neither confirmed nor denied.
"No way to block it, no matter how I think. I'd love a match, but I don't do fights I'm sure to lose."
If called against Kim Jun, he'd forfeit.
Kim Jun sat by his bag. A groan escaped. Po-noe Strike burdened the body heavily.
The bandage on his right palm was charred black. His left palm burned too from downing Siuba.
Raising his right hand, fingers trembled; spasms ran from the back to his elbow.
Can't use the right hand anymore.
Left needed treatment too.
Suddenly, a first-aid kit appeared before him.
Sa Yeonggyo sat down and opened it, disinfecting and treating with practiced hands.
"Burns like this happen when you're new to a skill or not used to it. Bad condition?"
Kim Jun was stunned a non-medical like Sa Yeonggyo—Association President's granddaughter, image-conscious—did this herself.
A cool sensation seeped deep into the mangled burned skin.
Healing? Stronger than Sang-taek's.
Kim Jun was flustered she'd cast a buffer spell. Her attack power screamed dealer.
Sa Yeonggyo was equally shocked.
Kilo Healing, yet the wound closed instantly, new flesh budding before her eyes.
Practically Mega Healing. My power hasn't grown, so... naturally high recovery?
The area still stung, but not enough to forfeit.
"Third match—you doing it?"
Sa Yeonggyo asked.
Kim Jun read her intent. Why she'd come treat him herself.
To fight. To face him.
"Of course."
Kim Jun said.
"Could you sign this? My grandson's a fan of Min-su."
A silver-haired elder offered a notepad.
Choi Min-su glanced at Yeon Un-jae across from him.
Yeon Un-jae sipped hot green tea, listening to an old melodic tune, then nodded slowly.
Choi Min-su signed. Suddenly, the traditional teahouse patrons lined up behind the elder. Choi Min-su signed each carefully with a troubled look, then wiped sweat with a handkerchief.
"You're unpopular like me."
Yeon Un-jae said to Go Cheolmin.
"I'm just a regular retired raider."
Then the teahouse owner brought huge drawing paper, placed it before Go Cheolmin, and offered a marker.
"Uramata Guild Master, right?"
"Yeah?"
"An honor. Framing it for the wall—sign, please."
"Uh, sure."
Go Cheolmin scribbled his name and date awkwardly as the owner chattered about how Kim Jun gave him energy. As the paper was taken away, awkward silence fell.