The Line You Shouldn't Cross

I opened my eyes to a familiar ceiling.

I stared at it blankly for a while before sitting up. Last night's events flashed through my mind.

The dungeon. Cheonmugye. The Cheongpung Sword Art.

Could all of it have been nothing more than a fleeting dream?

I turned my gaze to the side of the bed.

There it was — the sword, propped up beside me rather than shoved into some corner.

"Haha."

A laugh escaped me. It hadn't been a dream. If it had, there was no way that sword would be here.

I reached out and picked it up. A sensation both familiar and strange. The forms of the Cheongpung Sword Art etched themselves vividly before my eyes, as if being drawn in real time.

"It was all real."

Sweeping away the status window floating insistently in front of me, I headed into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. When I raised my head, my reflection stared back at me.

F-rank. Nothing had changed. But from now on, things would be different.

I can do this.

It was the first time I'd thought that in years.

Stepping outside the villa with sword in hand, I opened the dungeon management window.

Perfectly clean. My attention had been elsewhere when he left, so I hadn't gotten a proper look, but I distinctly remembered him departing with a satisfied grin.

Which meant the Cheongryeong Fruit had worked exactly as a reward should. I'd been a little worried about that, so it was a relief. I wouldn't need to fuss over rewards for a while yet.

It stung a little that my very first customer had thrown a tantrum and walked off with the prize, but with the Cheongpung Sword Art now in my hands, looking at it another way, it might have actually worked out for the best.

If word of the Cheongryeong Fruit's tangible effects spread through friends and acquaintances, others might come out of sheer curiosity. And what would that mean? A stepping stone for me to acquire new techniques. What's taken is taken — I could only hope he'd talk about it freely.

Not that I could rely on that alone, of course. The next time someone stumbled in by chance, I needed a dungeon so enticing they couldn't help but spread the word.

So that's why the level went up.

"Hmm…."

There was a lot to think about. To level up for the rank increase, I had to inflict wounds on intruders — and beyond that, I needed to make them use their techniques thoroughly enough to record them. Ideally, I'd also send them off with rewards good enough to get people talking. Keep that cycle going, and the day I'd been waiting for wouldn't be far off.

"I might just become a proper martial arts master at this rate."

Whew….

Steadying my ragged breathing, I let my sweat-soaked body cool down. I'd only repeated a handful of forms, yet every muscle in my body was screaming. The road back to rebuilding my physique was going to be a long one — that much was crystal clear.

Even so… the Cheongpung Sword Art had exceeded my expectations. At this level, I figured I could hold my own against a D-rank melee hunter, at least to some degree.

I want to test it.

The shared training grounds came to mind. The place Baek Clan members used most — great facilities, and sparring partners were easy to find.

I started heading that way, then stopped.

I wasn't just anyone; I was the shut-in who'd never left his room suddenly showing up out of nowhere swinging a sword. What would everyone think? Their eyes would definitely gather on me. If our positions were reversed, I'd stare too, out of pure curiosity. I wasn't the type to care much about other people's gazes, but still… that would be a bit much.

"Ah."

What about the 3rd Training Ground instead? It was also where I'd brought the goblin yesterday. I could get my combat sense back using low-tier monsters first, before facing actual people.

I moved without hesitation, and shortly after arriving at the 3rd Training Ground, I noticed something odd. There were more staff on duty than usual, and one of them was pacing near the entrance, clearly waiting for someone.

…No way. This feels like a trap.

The moment the man at the entrance spotted me, he hurried over — eyes wide and gleaming.

"Young Master Baek Doyun."

The very tone of his voice was off.

The man's name was Baek Jaehoon. He was the administrative head of the 3rd Training Ground and a D-rank hunter. I'd crossed paths with him a few times, but we'd never been close.

"What brings you here, sir?"

"Came to practice a little."

"You, Young Master?"

The corners of Baek Jaehoon's mouth curled upward.

"Why? Got a problem with that?"

"Not at all. I was simply thinking the sun must be planning to rise in the west tomorrow."

Mockery dripped from his voice. Baek Jaehoon glanced at the sword in my hand.

"Were you also at the training grounds yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Did you enter the magical beast management zone as well?"

I felt oddly like I was being interrogated. But since it was my own mess, dodging wasn't really an option. I'd figured a few goblins wouldn't be a big deal — apparently, I'd been wrong. Apologizing and paying for them now seemed like the smarter play. Preferably after taking a few more.

"Five goblins disappeared from the 3rd pen yesterday."

"……."

"Did you happen to take them, Young Master?"

"I did. That was me."

"Ha."

"I apologize. If it's caused a problem, I'll take responsibility."

He gave a scornful little laugh.

"A problem, you say?"

"Yeah."

"There isn't one."

An unexpected answer. Baek Jaehoon shrugged.

"A few worthless F-rank beasts going missing — who cares about that?"

"Then what's the issue?"

"You didn't have my permission."

He tilted his head and pressed on.

"Not that you'd ask, would you? And where you took them — surely you weren't planning to train with them."

"I trained with them."

"BWAHAHAHA!"

Baek Jaehoon burst out laughing like he wanted me gone, and a few people nearby stole glances our way.

"Ah, that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is genuinely the funniest thing I've heard all year."

He wiped a stray tear with his finger.

"You took five goblins and apparently did something with them."

He cocked his head.

"Have you changed somewhat, sir?"

"……."

"Talent really is a cruel thing, isn't it?"

Since I just stood there in silence, Baek Jaehoon showed no sign of stopping.

"Some people climb with the barest effort, while others can grind themselves to death and get nowhere."

His eyes traveled slowly over my face.

"But you'll be fine, won't you, Young Master? You've got the family name to fall back on."

He took a step closer.

"Sitting pretty on your own while the talentless crawl around at the bottom."

Another step.

"Wearing the title of heir candidate that everyone else wants and can never have."

He stopped right in front of me.

"I'm honestly so jealous."

"Heh."

I'd wondered what had gotten into him. Turns out he'd just been looking for an excuse — any excuse — to vomit up the resentment he'd been stockpiling, and the goblins were as good a one as any. What exactly he was so bitter about, I had no idea, but it was less a grudge than the classic habit of using someone more convenient than yourself as an emotional dumpster.

Maybe it was because I hadn't said a word or given any reaction. Either way, he didn't stop — he doubled down.

"And by the way, sir."

Baek Jaehoon tapped me on the shoulder like he was brushing off dust.

"A person really ought to know his place. Don't you think?"

Tap, tap. This time his palm came against my cheek — not a hard slap, but a light pat, the way you'd soothe a child.

"No sense picking that sword back up just to get your feelings hur—"

"You've got some nerve."

"Excuse me?"

Shhk—

"Huh?"

Baek Jaehoon's words cut off.

Something dropped to the ground. He looked down slowly.

The cuff of his sleeve — the scrap of fabric that had been covering his wrist, perfectly intact seconds ago — had been sheared off in a single clean line. And along his wrist ran a thin cut, a few drops of blood welling up and falling.

At ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the sight unfolding before them, the surroundings went dead quiet. Even the onlookers who'd been sneaking peeks stood frozen, mouths agape.

Baek Jaehoon stared at me, his face gone stiff.

"What… what do you think you're doing?"

"A mere caretaker—"

I kicked out at his shin. Baek Jaehoon lost his balance instantly and staggered.

"—is defying a heir candidate?"

It might have been a title in name only, but insolence this blatant was outright insubordination. I had more than enough authority to hand down punishment.

And here I was listening to every word out of his mouth. There were limits to crossing the line. Where exactly did he get off trampling right over it and planting his feet there?

"Answer me. What are you?"

"Wh-what do you mean?"

Thrown completely off script, Baek Jaehoon's eyes trembled.

"Answer."

"No, look, let's just calm down first—"

When I raised the sword into view, Baek Jaehoon toppled backward and landed hard on his rear.

"Young Master!"

"Got a complaint?"

"It's not a complaint—!"

"Fine. I'll give you a choice."

A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes.

"Take your disciplinary punishment and be done with it. Or…."

I pointed the tip of my sword toward the training grounds.

"Spar with me. Once."

"A… a spar?"

"If you win, I'll forgive all of it — the insolence, everything. And as it happens, next month marks the half-year mark. I'll give you the Cheongryeong Fruit I'm owed."

"A-and if I lose…?"

Gulp.

"You won't, will you?"

"N-no. I'll do it."

Greed gleamed in Baek Jaehoon's eyes.

The Cheongryeong Fruit given to the direct bloodline every six months was selected exclusively from the finest quality among an already rare crop. Members of other branches had no legitimate way to obtain one. And here I was, offering it up? He could eat it himself, or hand it off to some other direct descendant — the ways to profit from it were endless.

And if he lost? That possibility didn't even register in his mind. He'd only been caught off guard, unarmed. He was utterly certain there was no scenario in which he lost to an F-rank.

"Shall we begin, sir?"

.

"Quite a crowd."

Baek Doyun said, glancing around. Everyone who'd heard that the third son, back after three years, was about to spar had come flocking to watch.

"Even now, I can call it off for you."

"Just like that?"

"Oh, hardly. You'll need to get down on your knees at the very least — in front of everyone here."

"…Fun."

Meanwhile, off to one side, two people were observing the training grounds.

The captain of the Cheongryong Unit and a new recruit, both freshly returned from a mission. Passing through by coincidence, they'd witnessed the entire confrontation between Baek Doyun and Baek Jaehoon from start to finish.

"Wow… the third young master. I'd heard he was a total recluse."

the rookie murmured under his breath.

"This is something else."

The captain beside him chuckled.

"Who told you that?"

"Come on, the rumors. That he can barely manage a word to the staff."

"Ah, that old nonsense."

"Nonsense, sir?"

"You've only been in the Baek Clan two years, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then it makes sense you wouldn't know."

"Know what?"

"Oh, plenty. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A lot."

He lifted his head as if sifting through old memories, then let out a sigh.

"He used to have quite the temper back in the day."

"How bad?"

"…Mad-dog bad?"

"Geh. You're kidding."

"It eased up some once he entered the Academy… but before that, honestly."

He clicked his tongue.

"Not just a mad dog — a rabid mad dog…."

The rookie gave him a puzzled look.

"Then why did he shut himself up in that villa for three whole years? And how did that rumor even spread?"

"How would I know? Only the young master knows his own circumstances. The rumor, though…."

"Ah—got it! Anyone capable of cooking up and spreading a rumor like that has to be one of the other young masters or a young lady, right?"

"Keep it in your head. Don't say it out loud."

"I know better than that."

"See that you do."

The rookie scratched his cheek.

"Personality aside, can the third young master actually win? The rank gap is the rank gap, no matter how you slice it."

"Why do you think we're standing here watching instead of knowing, hm?"

"Ahh."

"Hm?"

"What's wrong, Captain? Did you see someone you know?"

"…No."

"What, that's it?"

.

By the time everyone who could drop everything and come watch had gathered, Baek Jaehoon rolled his eyes, searching the crowd for someone. The moment he found them, he smiled and drew his sword.

"We'll begin now, Young Master."

"I didn't realize I needed an audience that badly."

"Well, if the Young Master lost and later claimed otherwise, that would be rather inconvenient for everyone, wouldn't it?"

Baek Jaehoon's mind was already painting the aftermath. Visions of the gains to come, the future unfolding before him — he stomped the ground.

Break his sword in one strike and pin him down.

"HYAAH!"

Baek Jaehoon brought his sword down with full force. Matching him, I extended mine.

Just before the two blades met, the tip of my sword wavered.

Whoosh—

Baek Jaehoon's sword ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠carved through empty air.

And in the same instant, shallow cuts opened across three places at once — his chest, and both arms.

"…Huh?"

Baek Jaehoon stared blankly down at the blood spilling from his own body. His face said he couldn't fathom what had just happened.

I gave him a word for the road.

"Already over?"

Baek Jaehoon's face flushed crimson.

"Get up."

I tilted the sword's tip.

"It's just getting started."