Accidental Victory and Endless Trials
“Me too.”
An Ye-na and Jo Yeong-ran spoke up at the same time.
Jang Geon-ho nodded as if he felt the same way.
The second presenter's research topic was Parcheon-gong. It was a study aiming to uncover the relationship between Parcheon-gong—made famous by the strongest tanker, Choi Min-su—and emotions.
The third was “Item Development Using Cores.”
The fourth person to take the stage looked straight at Yang Hee-seon instead of presenting.
“I’d like to do a duel.”
At those words, the audience—worn out from the boring presentations—suddenly perked up.
“Go ahead.”
Yang Hee-seon gave her permission.
The man on stage pointed at the table where Jang Geon-ho, Lee Sang-yoon, Jo Yeong-ran, and An Ye-na were sitting.
“I nominate Yeom Sang-taek.”
All eyes turned to Yeom Sang-taek.
Yeom Sang-taek looked utterly bewildered.
“What’re you doing? Get up there.”
It was Lee Sang-yoon.
“Sang-taek doesn’t even know what a duel is.”
Jang Geon-ho said quietly.
“Then it’ll be even more fun.”
Lee Sang-yoon grinned and dragged Yeom Sang-taek up to the stage. He raised his hand to the crowd, drawing cheers. But as he stepped down, leaving Yeom Sang-taek behind, he suddenly tumbled forward, smashing his face into the floor.
Yang Hee-seon had intervened.
Lee Sang-yoon sprang back up, bowed politely to Yang Hee-seon, and returned to his seat.
The audience burst into laughter.
You’d never see the ever-arrogant Lee Sang-yoon fumbling like that anywhere but in front of Yang Hee-seon.
Yang Hee-seon stood.
Without even approaching the mic, her voice echoed through the entire hall. It was the mid-level buff spell Voice Up.
“Today’s duel will be decided by laying your opponent flat with Strong. Staff, please prepare.”
Soon, staff members cleared the podium and drew a white line in its place. It resembled a shrunken volleyball court, making physical contact impossible.
“Metal attribute, Level 7, from Guild Seven Kings—Mo Won-gyu.”
The man who had nominated Yeom Sang-taek took position on the left side of the court first.
Yeom Sang-taek was led to the right by a staff member.
“...Um, shadow attribute, Le-Level 8, from, from Uramata Guild... Yeom Sang-taek. P-please take care of me.”
His “please take care of me” drew stomping laughter from the crowd. He was the first in a duel to say something like that.
Mo Won-gyu glanced at Yang Hee-seon.
Yeom Sang-taek, catching the hint, turned to her as well.
“Begin.”
The moment the word dropped, Mo Won-gyu unleashed Strong.
His body grew heavy, nearly buckling his knees. In shock, Yeom Sang-taek tried to cast Strong, but his opponent hit him with a second one at blinding speed.
It felt like his body had doubled in weight.
Fortunately, thanks to the strength in his thighs and calves from consistent squats and lower-body workouts—and his recent running stamina boosted by Kim Jun—Yeom Sang-taek held firm.
The third Strong was weaker. The fourth barely registered.
Mo Won-gyu’s eyes widened. He’d stacked four Strongs, yet his opponent hadn’t collapsed.
What the hell is this guy?
Mo Won-gyu unwittingly staggered back and fell. He’d depleted his stamina spamming Strong.
Cheers exploded, filling the hall.
Yeom Sang-taek was dazed.
He hadn’t landed a single buff. The opponent had simply tripped over his own feet. Mo Won-gyu glared as he rose, but Yeom Sang-taek just looked confused.
Shrugging, Mo Won-gyu approached.
“I lost.”
What?
Mo Won-gyu bowed his head.
Why’s he doing that?
“You gonna accept my defeat or not?”
“Pardon? Oh... yes. ...I just got lucky.”
Mo Won-gyu’s expression softened at Yeom Sang-taek’s words. He grabbed Yeom Sang-taek’s hand and raised it high.
The cheers grew louder.
Yeom Sang-taek returned to his seat, still baffled. What even was a duel? Why had he won?
“What are you?”
Lee Sang-yoon asked.
Jo Yeong-ran and An Ye-na eyed him suspiciously too.
“Now pay up.”
Jang Geon-ho held out his hand.
Lee Sang-yoon, Jo Yeong-ran, and An Ye-na pulled out their wallets. They’d all bet on Yeom Sang-taek’s total loss.
Grinning wide, Jang Geon-ho gave Yeom Sang-taek a thumbs-up.
The presentations continued.
“So... what’s a duel?”
Yeom Sang-taek whispered to Jang Geon-ho, just loud enough for him to hear. Jang Geon-ho stared with an odd look before finally bursting into laughter.
Despite the stares, he didn’t care.
The gathering neared its end.
As Yang Hee-seon approached the front, the room tensed. The Crazy Five reveal was coming.
“Today, I’ve once again realized that this country’s future lies with all of you. The Crazy Five who’ll join me until the next gathering: Lee Sang-yoon, Jo Yeong-ran, An Ye-na, Jang Geon-ho, and Yeom Sang-taek. See you next time.”
The disappointed clapped, looking forward to the next chance.
But a few of the actual selectees looked grim.
Lee Sang-yoon glanced at Jo Yeong-ran.
“Knew it. The second I saw the invite, I knew this’d happen.”
“Think positive. Better than blogging.”
“Last time I made Crazy Five, I nearly got kicked from Brave Guild.”
Lee Sang-yoon was dead serious.
“Yeah, it was a hassle for me too. What about you?”
Jo Yeong-ran turned to An Ye-na.
“I fled to America.”
Jo Yeong-ran and Lee Sang-yoon gave bitter smiles.
“Crazy Five... isn’t it good?”
Yeom Sang-taek murmured to Jang Geon-ho.
“Pros and cons. You’ll find out soon enough. Congrats anyway. Crazy Five right after becoming a client? Looks like the old lady really acknowledges you.”
“R-really?”
That was all Yeom Sang-taek could say.
The world was upside down.
The sea above, the cloudy sky flowing beneath it... stretched out like an ocean.
“You messing with me? Even a snail’s faster than you!”
The old man bellowed.
Kim Jun hurdled rock crevices while handstanding. He nearly lost balance and fell, but that would mean restarting the island lap from scratch.
Blood filled his mouth.
The old man’s training... hadn’t gotten any easier. Just when he adapted, it twisted into new torment.
He’d thought of fleeing countless times. His unique Lycopsaurus recovery kicked in at limits, but it couldn’t erase the crushing fatigue.
And he’d spent days taking nothing but abuse from this geezer. He wanted off the island, back to solid land.
Of course, at night, lying down, his mind changed. He’d hypnotize himself to endure one more day and drift off.
The scorching midday faded into evening.
Watching the world inverted... was strangely mesmerizing.
Two hours later, the old man shouted.
“Prepare dinner.”
After a day handstanding, standing on his feet brought vertigo.
“Catch two.”
“...Understood.”
Kim Jun dug through damp soil, pocketing two or three earthworms, then trudged to the cliff.
Waves crashed white against the reefs below. On day one, terror had weakened his legs; now it felt like a neighborhood playground.
He dove in, hands cupped, plunging straight to the bottom. He scanned around.
Not far off, a seafloor cave gaped like a black maw, awaiting victims.
His body shuddered instinctively.
He vaguely recalled being sucked into that pitch-black void. Only later, from Master Go Cheolmin, did he learn the old man had saved him. Hard to believe.
Maybe Master lied to leave me here on purpose.
Something squirmed into view.
Kim Jun dove deeper.
The octopus wedging into a rock crevice latched with suckers when grabbed, but couldn’t match his training-hardened strength.
It was a solid ten kilos.
Surfacing, Kim Jun stripped his shirt and tied the octopus tight to a reef outcrop.
Back in the sea, he descended near the bottom for the old man’s favorites. To sleep well tonight, he needed pricey, tasty catches like red sea bream, rock bream, or black porgy—bare-handed.
At first, he couldn’t spot any bream. Lack of know-how. Turns out, black porgies favored strong bottom currents.
Luck wasn’t with him today.
Nothing for it. Ride the current.
Surfacing for air, Kim Jun dove again.
He’d follow the current until he found good-sized fish. Surrendering to the flow from island to sea, he drifted effortlessly.
If he’d known sooner, he’d have used it to reach Turtle Island.
The current was chillier than the surface but bearable. He recalled his first reckless plunge, shocked by the temperature drop.
Now he’d adapted to that too.
After about five minutes, a decent black porgy appeared between rocks—or rather, its silhouette did.
Hm, my eyesight’s sharpened too. First time down here, it was too dark to make out anything.
Kim Jun twisted toward it.
The fish was nimble and cunning. Straight approaches sent it fleeing at unimaginable speeds, ten out of ten.
Kim Jun broke from the current and surfaced. Filling his lungs, he dove back, seeking position.
That spot looks good.
Slipping into a rock crevice for cover, he pulled an earthworm from his pants. Tied to string, it drifted in the current.
As it neared, the porgy reacted and approached.
Kim Jun reeled the line, luring it.
After circling, it grew bolder.
Grabbing the rock with one hand, Kim Jun snatched it with the other. The thrashing porgy in his palm struggled to escape, but his grip overwhelmed it.
Got one.
He bound the stunned fish with seaweed and rode the current for a second.
With both caught, Kim Jun headed back, using dolphin kicks aggressively. The island neared fast.
Every inch ached from the day’s training, but he had to hurry for dinner and rest.
Cooking rice, gutting and grilling fish, boiling and slicing the octopus—it was all on him.
The old man just ate the spread. Then tossed out a word.
“Too salty.”
Meal over.
As Kim Jun cleared, the old man spoke.
“You’ve done well so far.”
“...Teacher?”
“From tomorrow, real training begins.”
“......”
Kim Jun was speechless.
“It’ll be tougher than before. Rest well.”
The old man vanished into the hut.
Kim Jun deflated.
Tougher than this?
Frustrated and hollow, he wanted to scream. He dashed to the cliff and did.
He collapsed.
Even the starlit sea’s beauty escaped him now.
He seriously considered escape.
No 21st-century training’s this brutal. Even a Raider wouldn’t last a week. A week? They’d bolt day one. Sigh, I’ve given my all. Isn’t this enough?
But instead of diving into the sea, he lay there.
Pitying his efforts. Not wanting to disappoint Master Go Cheolmin and others.
The biggest reason... he refused to lose to that damn old man. So he endured.
“Just one more day. If not, then run.”
With that, Kim Jun slept.
Kim Jun’s eyes snapped open. His jaw dropped.
It was daytime!
The sun blazed.
He’d actually slept in.
First time since arriving.
The old man always woke him at dawn—no gentle nudges. Tossed off cliffs, kicked in the gut, soccered in the head.
Rushing to the hut, Kim Jun froze at a shocking sight.
“Come eat.”
“...Yes, Teacher.”
Sitting at the rickety table, he wondered if it was a dream.
The square tray held white rice, kimchi, leftover octopus, and wild herb namul. But the real shocker: a 60cm black porgy, grilled, in the center.
“Eat plenty.”
“Y-yes.”
Any second, it might flip the table and punch him.
Tense, Kim Jun ate. The old man dined calmly, leisurely as ever.
“Boil water.”
“Yes, Teacher.”
Kim Jun lit the firepit and boiled water. The old man mixed instant coffee into a paper cup.
“Drink.”
“...Yes.”
Kim Jun stared blankly. Had the geezer suddenly gotten dementia?
He downed the hot coffee and eyed him. Why the change? More unnerving than welcome.
“Sun’s hot—rest well. Training at dusk.”
“Pardon? Oh, yes, Teacher.”
The old man entered the hut. Kim Jun headed to the cliffside woods.
Sitting in cool shade, gazing at the blue sea, he tilted his head. This was new.
Sleep tugged at him.
Eyes closing, Kim Jun soon dozed off.