Mercenaries Down, Prodigies Clash
“This place has bad vibes. It'll go under within a year.”
Yeon Un-jae grumbled bluntly.
Pfft.
Choi Min-su burst out laughing first.
Go Cheolmin clamped his mouth shut, determined not to laugh. To shift the mood and defuse the tension, he changed the subject.
“The practical exams must be in full swing by now, right?”
“Mm, probably wrapping up. The passers have mostly been decided.”
Yeon Un-jae replied.
“I'm looking forward to seeing what score Jun gets on the test.”
“He has to pass the practical first.”
“With his skills, he'd beat anyone he faces.”
“You think so?”
Something in that oddly nuanced question stirred an inexplicable unease in Go Cheolmin.
Yeon Un-jae's eyes widened slightly as he studied Go Cheolmin's face.
“You don't know? Team Leader Choi, you didn't tell him anything?”
“I mentioned the mercenaries.”
At Choi Min-su's words, Go Cheolmin's jaw dropped.
“Mercenaries? I never heard about that.”
“Tsk tsk.”
Yeon Un-jae clicked his tongue.
Choi Min-su stepped in and calmly explained that two mercenaries had been included in this awakening test, with Kim Jun as their highly likely target.
“Geumgangbulgoe? Cheonjumang?”
Go Cheolmin trembled with betrayal. If he'd known in advance, he could've coached Kim Jun properly.
“Now I remember. That's why we didn't tell you. You would've tipped off Kim Jun.”
“Of course. I'm his guild master—he's my responsibility.”
“Mm. Elder, why don't you explain this part.”
Choi Min-su passed the buck to Yeon Un-jae.
Yeon Un-jae eyed Go Cheolmin with a weary look, as if it couldn't be helped.
“The kid seems like the type who unlocks his potential through real combat. Choi Team Leader and I agree on that point. What do you think?”
“He does have that tendency.”
Go Cheolmin couldn't deny it—he knew every detail of the tests and raids Kim Jun had joined.
“If we tipped him off about the mercenaries' abilities beforehand, wouldn't that stunt his growth? What do you say?”
“But this is a crucial test for a Raider license, isn't it?”
“License? What's so important about that? It's just a formality. What matters is what comes after. No risk of death in this test—perfect opportunity. I'd even pay to set it up. Jonathan, Silva—they're on par with Yeon O-su, really. Solid skills, but victory hinges on condition that day, attitude, grit, adaptability. Whether Kim Jun overcomes it is up to his own effort.”
“I don't think he'll lose either. But as his guild master, I want to fulfill my duties. From now on, share all info with me. I'll decide how to use it.”
Go Cheolmin pushed back firmly.
Having led the massive Yeon family as patriarch, Yeon Un-jae understood the sentiment.
“Understood.”
Just then, a phone rang.
Choi Min-su answered, a smile creeping across his lips. Covering the mouthpiece, he said,
“They're both in the hospital.”
“...What?”
Go Cheolmin blinked in shock.
“Both of them?”
Yeon Un-jae asked.
“Both.”
“That's unexpected. Never thought he'd win that overwhelmingly.”
Yeon Un-jae grasped the situation instantly.
The mystery lingered. They'd thoroughly investigated Kim Jun's abilities and run simulations against the two mercenaries.
Win rates: 19.3% and 16.5%.
Even against Yeon O-su, it had been 20.9%—lucky to scrape a 1-0-1 or barely beat both by a hair.
Sending both mercenaries to the hospital? Unthinkable.
Go Cheolmin's expression shifted from anxiety to ecstasy.
Choi Min-su's eyes widened as he listened. Hanging up, he turned to Yeon Un-jae.
“He used Po-noe Strike.”
“What?”
The teacup exploded in Yeon Un-jae's grip.
The committee chairman dabbed at the sweat pouring from his brow with a handkerchief.
Glare at the sodden, heavy cloth, he tossed it into the trash.
“Not my fault. Not my fault. Absolutely, not... my fault.”
The plan had been flawless.
Where had it gone wrong?
He'd reviewed the practical match footage repeatedly. A unique skill he'd never seen before—experts confirmed it as Yeon family's Po-noe Strike. A tough-to-block attack Yeon Chung-jae had favored.
How could a carrier unleash Po-noe Strike?
Cheonroegeom involved innate constitution, fine. But a skill like Po-noe Strike, demanding years of training? Impossible overnight.
Then?
That carrier... he's Yeon family's secret weapon. No, Choi Min-su knows too, so Cheonhondan's. I'm blameless.
Judging he could delay no longer, he grabbed his phone and dialed.
“It's me.”
―Results in?
“...Yes.”
―Hospitalized, right?
“Y-yes.”
The chairman realized Kim Se-wi had a mole planted somewhere here. No other way to know so fast.
―You're not at fault. Good you uncovered part of Cheonhondan's scheme. Talk later.
Kim Se-wi hung up first.
The chairman slumped into his chair with a sigh of relief.
“Sa Yeonggyo.”
The proctor called her name.
Sa Yeonggyo walked to the arena, scanning the crowd. No one met her gaze directly.
The practical exam was nearing its end. Most passers decided. Fewer arenas in use—now just one.
No one wanted to get one-sidedly crushed by Sa Yeonggyo before the final Awakening Seat test. Aspiring examinees weren't in the mood to face top tiers like her today.
“Im Yeong-mi.”
“I forfeit.”
“Choi Jae-seop.”
“Forfeit.”
Like students raising hands for roll call, examinees responded to their names with forfeits.
Sa Yeonggyo stood center arena, eyes on Kim Jun. He alone among examinees held her stare.
The crowd caught the meaning.
These two's match would be the practical exam finale. Kim Jun gritted his teeth against surging abdominal pain.
It wasn't just my palm that burned.
Truth was, breathing hurt now.
Internal injuries he'd only read about in Daily Raiders articles. Like needles stabbing inside, but his mood wasn't bad.
Without inner power, no injuries either.
Logically, forfeit was best—considering his state and the upcoming Awakening Seat test. But Kim Jun knew he wouldn't.
The reason was clear.
He wanted to fight Sa Yeonggyo.
Feel firsthand how strong the top examinee was.
Finally, the proctor called Kim Jun.
He rose slowly, walked to the arena, and stood before Sa Yeonggyo.
“You sure?”
The proctor asked.
“Yes.”
Kim Jun replied, eyes on Sa Yeonggyo. The proctor stepped back.
End it early. Time's not on my side.
Kim Jun judged swiftly.
Couldn't let her keep distance, whipping that mana-infused transparent lash. Start on defense, and it'd end without a counter.
Thud. Mukhonbo's Tan step launched.
The 5-meter gap vanished.
Fist thrust at her gut.
No expectation it'd land. She'd dodge. Crucial was reading her movement for a takedown path.
Thump.
Fist blocked by rock-hard abs.
The feel... just like Jo Nam-sik's Geumgangbulgoe.
Kim Jun retreated. Fist throbbed—maybe cracked finger bones.
Sa Yeonggyo's face... unchanged. She'd hardened only solar plexus and abs.
“Why so hasty? We just started.”
Sa Yeonggyo's feet lifted slightly off the ground. Her body floated 10 cm up.
One examinee recognized it.
“Phantom Walk!”
“...Isn't that Sa Gyeongbaek's skill?”
“Real Phantom Walk!”
Gasps erupted everywhere.
Sa Gyeongbaek's Phantom Walk—from the era's strongest, honorably retired—was legendary. It defied physical limits, moving purely on mana.
Sa Yeonggyo raised her right hand.
A deep blue lash materialized in her grip. 3 meters of metal whip—Metal Whip—fully revealed, mana densely condensed.
Cheers died.
Phantom Walk alone stunned; manifesting Metal Whip while sustaining it? Unforeseen.
Kim Jun was dumbfounded.
Knew she'd be strong—but this absurd? Even healthy, tough win.
But endings are unpredictable. Since when did I fight by win rates?
Kim Jun grinned.
Surrendered to surging fighting spirit. Sa Yeonggyo defied analysis. Rationally, forfeit now with his condition.
Mukhonbo's Tan, Po, Dang flowed freely.
Fists and feet slipped through tiniest gaps. Sa Yeonggyo evaded feather-light. Or seemed pushed by air as he closed or struck.
Feels like fighting a ghost. She's insanely skilled.
Visible, yet ungraspable.
Understood Phantom Walk's fame. As his offense faltered, Metal Whip lashed.
Offense-defense flipped.
Kim Jun dodged with Mukhonbo; Sa Yeonggyo pressed with Phantom Walk and Metal Whip.
Proctor Jang Man-ho watched from outside among examinees. Ready to intervene if critical—but unlikely between them.
Massive mana surged; Metal Whip stiffened upright.
Speared like a spear at Kim Jun's right shoulder. Cloth tore, skin split.
Kim Jun curved away with Dang step, diving into her guard, left hand thrusting.
Crackle-crackle.
Po-noe Strike finally unleashed.
Sa Yeonggyo spread her legs wide, palms pressed together prayer-like.
Hands touching, left rotated right, right left—90 degrees. Up-down hands circled out; blue mana from palms formed intricate circular magic circle.
Po-noe sparks couldn't pierce—absorbed, circle blazing brighter.
Jang Man-ho was speechless.
Phantom Walk unbelievable enough; now Usteum Shield? Rumors only Sa Yeonggyo could succeed Association President Sa Gyeongbaek... true.
Usteum Shield—like Phantom Walk, Sa Gyeongbaek's advanced skill.
The match pressed on.
Sa Yeonggyo dominated with overwhelming power. Thought several ends—yet Kim Jun escaped impossibly.
Understood why objectively superior Jonathan and Silva lost. Not just Po-noe—Kim Jun's adaptive style shone in real combat.
He's... getting stronger. Way stronger than five minutes ago.
Sa Yeonggyo grinned wide, mouth agape in delight. No memory of anger at Kim Jun.
Kim Jun felt the same.
At seven minutes, Kim Jun slowed sharply.
Sa Yeonggyo instantly sensed his anomaly. Once-fluid dodges now stuttered; legs wobbled, losing balance.
Inner power flow disrupted? Internal injuries from those two matches. Fought me like this? Gutsy as hell.
Sa Yeonggyo suddenly retreated.
“Call it here today? Finish later?”
Kim Jun nodded. Pain too intense for words.
The practical exam's final match ended in a draw.