Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 010
Chapter Title: Super Rookie
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Yoon Seok-ho stared at the measurement screen with a dumbfounded expression.
He had expected Kim Woojin's score to top out at around 95. Even those hyped up in rumors for their exceptional talent had never broken past the wall of 100.
But what appeared before his eyes was a number that utterly defied common sense.
"..."
Yoon Seok-ho tried to say something, but only meaningless air leaked out from between his parted lips.
Kim Woojin. That was the bare-body spec of the new recruit who had just shown up as a trainee today.
"Ha..."
The first to shatter the silence was Yoon Seok-ho's own sigh, laced with a hollow laugh.
That sound set it off—the entire training ground erupted in murmurs. The trainees, who had been holding their breath like corpses, suddenly all started talking at once.
"This is insane... 200 points? Is that even possible for a human body?"
"The reading's gotta be wrong. Machine malfunction? Or maybe he doped up on something..."
"Nah, even drugs couldn't push you past 200."
The training ground was engulfed in a wave of buzzing chatter. Everyone except Kim Woojin stared at the screen displaying the test results, their faces etched with disbelief.
And who could blame them? That score was flat-out impossible.
The human body has clear limits.
Human evolution favored intricate muscle arrangements for precise movements over raw power concentration, resulting in a unique structure that's inherently weak in explosive strength.
That's why, no matter how brutally you train—short of using drugs or anomalous power—pure physical conditioning alone can't push your physique score past 100.
Just think about it: legendary bodybuilder Ronnie Coleman's peak physique score was 99. That says it all.
But right now, Kim Woojin was smashing every bit of that conventional wisdom to pieces.
"...'
Yoon Seok-ho swallowed dryly as he scrutinized the printout in his hand.
The physique analyzer wasn't some dumb machine that just measured raw strength. It was cutting-edge precision equipment that analyzed muscle density and volume, left-right body balance, skeletal structure and alignment, and even invisible micro-damage or weak points.
And the data on that paper? Pure shock.
No external factors whatsoever. A pure, unadulterated human body.
And yet, it clocked in at 200.
This was superhuman territory, the stuff of myths and legends.
Even more astonishing were the details.
'The balance...'
Perfect was the only word for it.
New recruits usually walked in with slight imbalances from bad habits or poor form. Even hardcore athletes had tiny asymmetries.
But Kim Woojin's body was different. Left-right muscle distribution and activation were within 0.01% error margins. The organic linkage of core muscles connecting upper and lower body, skeletal alignment—textbook ideal, ready for a manual.
The murmurs around them were turning into outright suspicion.
"At that level, he's not human—he's gotta be an anomalous entity himself."
"Were you some pro athlete before? Olympic medalist or national team pick or something...?"
Amid the barrage of questions and suspicious stares from all sides, Yoon Seok-ho finally pulled himself together.
He cleared his throat with a deliberate cough. The noisy trainees' attention snapped to him.
"Alright, everyone, that's enough. Measurement's done—back to training!"
At his sharp command, the trainees dispersed with disappointed looks. But their gazes clung stubbornly to Kim Woojin's back.
Yoon Seok-ho watched the trainees return to their spots, then quietly called out.
"Woojin, come see me for a sec."
The place Yoon Seok-ho led him to was a separate isolation room tucked in the farthest corner of the training ground.
Inside stood several life-sized wooden dummies. They looked like standard martial arts training mannequins at first glance.
But something was off. Crimson vine-like tentacles resembling entrails writhed grotesquely over their bodies.
Lunchtime was just three hours away, and this was enough to turn anyone's stomach.
"This is an anomalous entity called Parasitic Carnis."
Noticing my stiff expression and tension, Yoon Seok-ho spoke up first with an explanation.
"Normally, it parasitizes humans or animals and hijacks their nervous system to control the body—a real pain to deal with."
Controls the body?
I furrowed my brow and looked back at the dummies. The writhing tentacles almost seemed to beckon me, sending chills down my spine.
"Isn't it dangerous just leaving something like that out?"
"Haha, no worries. These have all been modified by the research team for training. They've got perfect remote controls on their cores—totally safe."
Safety guaranteed. In Korea, few words ring more hollow. I've never seen anyone actually follow through on that promise.
I kept my guard up and asked.
"So, what'd you want to see me about?"
At that, Yoon Seok-ho crossed his arms and sized me up from head to toe.
"I saw your physique test results. On paper, your body's flawless. Not a single flaw."
Flawless.
It was the reaction I'd half-expected, so I just nodded calmly.
Yoon Seok-ho continued.
"But sometimes it happens—hardware's top-notch, but they freeze up in real combat. So I want to see how sharp you are in action."
He jerked his chin at the dummies.
"These here? As anomalous entities, they're generous Grade 4 at best. No real death risk. Word is you soloed a Grade 3 Patrol Entity, so these should be a breeze."
I nodded to show I understood, then stepped forward, fists up by my chin, bouncing lightly on my toes. Ready to explode at any moment.
But seeing my stance, Yoon Seok-ho looked baffled.
"Woojin. What are you doing?"
"Huh? You told me to fight."
"You planning to take on every anomalous entity we face barehanded?"
Chastened, I dropped my stance and scratched my head sheepishly.
"Well... Figured it'd be too easy against Grade 4s with a weapon. Thought it was obvious to go bare-knuckle."
"Ha..."
Yoon Seok-ho sighed like he was beyond exasperated, then tossed me a curved sword hanging on the wall.
As I caught it, he went on.
"You're right—after bagging a Grade 3, Grade 4s must feel trivial. So let's up the ante."
"What kind?"
"Take on all the dummies here."
"Pardon?"
I blurted it out reflexively.
There were easily over ten dummies in the room. Even Grade 4s, 1v10 felt excessive.
Reading my face, Yoon Seok-ho grinned and added.
"Nail 'em all, and lunch is on me."
Lunch, huh.
Not a bad deal.
Training I had to do anyway—free meal's pure profit.
Back when I lived alone, it was always convenience store bentos or instant ramen. Wonder what tax-funded grub tastes like.
Mistaking my silence for nerves, Yoon Seok-ho grinned wider.
"Too much for a newbie? Eh, if it's too many, I can cut it to five."
I gripped the sword hilt tight. The cold handle molded perfectly to my palm.
Matching his grin, I shot back.
"You're on. Let's do this."
No sooner had I spoken than Yoon Seok-ho pulled a remote from his pocket and hit a button.
The things started writhing all at once.
Kiiik, creak.
Honestly, not a pleasant sight. Crimson vines coiling around wooden frames, joints grinding unnaturally. Felt like I'd wandered into a B-horror set.
'Grade 4s, but their movement's pretty convincing.'
True to their parasitic nature, they circled up, coordinating like a pack.
A typical newbie might struggle hard against them.
Not me, though.
I kicked off the floor and charged. The first one lunged—its swinging arm? No dodge needed. As our paths crossed, my sword traced a smooth arc.
Schwick.
A dull thud. The sickening feel of slicing sodden wood and tough meat.
Upper and lower halves cleanly separated, tumbling to the floor. The twitching vines spasmed briefly, then went still.
One down.
Mid-slash, I was already twisting toward the next.
No thinking involved.
My body reacted first, guiding the situation optimally.
Grazed a left hook, slashed the neck; horizontal cut through a right-flank pouncer's waist. Two coming straight on? Angled sweep took them both out in one go.
No waste in my strikes. One motion, one dummy—or two—down.
Crack!
Nearest dummy's head split like a watermelon.
Used the recoil to spin, severing an incoming arm from the side. Felt a rear ambush—no turn needed, reverse thrust impaled it.
Piercing sensation. Six down.
Movement seamless. Their attack paths, next moves, clear as replay footage.
Plant foot, twist hips, swing blade. Body's ingrained optimal path. Just repeating the motions.
Snapped to—silence blanketed the room.
Shattered dummy parts and limp vines littered the floor.
Checked my watch—under two minutes.
'Grade 4s, I guess. Easier than expected.'
I shrugged and turned to Yoon Seok-ho.
Sure enough, his jaw hung slack, face frozen in disbelief. No way he's backing out on lunch now.
I shook the blood and wood chips off the blade and asked.
"So, what's the lunch menu today?"