Regulation 6: The Disciplinary Committee Leader Rejects Persons of Interest (3)
Ahn Woo-jin. He was a man who had mastered efficient mana cultivation techniques from early childhood, all built on the foundation of his game knowledge.
What, exactly, was a mana cultivation technique? It was a training method for refining mana and steadily forging one's mana circuits into shape. The younger one started, the deeper the technique etched talent into the bones — much as aging a wine draws out a richer, fuller flavor. Once the body reached maturity, cultivation could only boost mana density and handling prowess, which was precisely why seizing the right timing mattered so much.
And of all the methods in existence, the one Woo-jin had repeated over and over was the training method of Academy City's strongest. That of the worst lawbreaker among the Six Sinners — Goliath — a technique the giant had awakened instinctively and honed to perfection.
Armed with his game knowledge, Woo-jin had poured out effort no one could match, carving away at himself without rest the way a jeweler shapes a gem toward its most beautiful form. And yet he never became a monster like Goliath. He never even reached the 5th Tier the way other prodigies did. That was why Woo-jin had judged himself merely above-average.
But the hours of training he had accumulated had piled up, step by relentless step. This was an undeniable fact. In the end, everything Woo-jin possessed — his talent, his potential, his skill — had already climbed to a height the merely-gifted Sword Master of Sindorim could never hope to touch.
Woo-jin's teal eyes were cold as ice. Tszzt. A current of electricity flickered intermittently through his sharpened gaze — the result of his activated mana.
"Ugh…!"
He could not simply stand by and let it end like this.
Sinso raised his sword and forced himself upright, taking his stance once more. Fwoosh! Crimson flame answered his will and blazed back into shape along the blade.
"Haaargh!"
Bolstered by his mana-hardened body, Sinso roared a battle cry and lunged at Woo-jin again. His movements were agile and fluid; he spat fire-mana behind him like an engine's exhaust, accelerating with every step. Fwoorak! A razor-sharp downward slash came hurtling toward Woo-jin.
In that instant, Woo-jin released the lightning mana suffusing his three-section staff — deliberately leaving behind only the effect of simple mana reinforcement. If flame and lightning collided, the resulting blast of energy was far too dangerous, and this was his safeguard against it.
CLANG!
Woo-jin caught the sword strike on his raised staff. In one smooth motion he let it go — and the falling staff flowed like water straight into his other hand. Tszzt! Teal currents crackled to life along its length once more. Whish! THUD!
"Kghk!"
The lightning-laden staff hammered into Sinso's torso. A swift, precise strike. The mana reinforcing Woo-jin's staff was on an entirely different level from the mana reinforcing Sinso's body — and so a single measured blow from Woo-jin soared far past Sinso's defenses.
Once more.
Woo-jin hammered him again.
BOOM!
The devastating blow unleashed a shockwave that sent Sinso flying, his sturdy physique rendered meaningless in an instant. Crackle! In the aftermath of the impact, teal lightning spread out in chains, embroidering the empty air for a split second — a lingering echo of the strike.
"A-agh…!"
The deafening roar filling the sparring hall gave the spectators a fair idea of the staggering pain Sinso must be enduring. He groaned and collapsed to the floor, hands pressed against the ground.
When this bout had begun, Sinso's spirit had burned with the thrill of a challenge. True, he'd had to scheme to arrange it — but wasn't that exactly how he'd earned the chance? He had sworn to himself that he would turn this duel with Woo-jin into meaningful combat experience and grow from it.
And yet.
After only two exchanges, the colossal wall that the fog had hidden finally loomed within sight. The gap in skill was far too stark. Mana control, combat instinct — both were beyond excessive. Never in his life had Sinso faced a human this strong.
Is that really a second-year? Until the duel, he had doubted. Maybe that guy had pulled strings, used connections, wriggled his way past Oh Baek-seo into the Leader's seat through sheer cleverness. But seeing was believing. The moment they clashed, the truth made itself brutally clear: that man was a monster already ranked among the geniuses — a being on an entirely different plane from himself.
And so he understood. Ahn Woo-jin was unquestionably a formidable opponent — one who could not be consumed as mere experience points. Challenging him at all might have been arrogance on Sinso's part.
"Ah…!"
Crack! The shockwave shattered the dokkaebi mask, and it clattered to the floor. Sinso's bare face was finally revealed.
"Huh!? Sinso's mask…?"
"Hey. That's Park Sung-tae, isn't it?"
"Park Sung-tae? The third-year from Chrysanthemum Hall?"
"Knew it was Park Sung-tae! Called it!"
The crowd murmured and whispered. The Sword Master of Sindorim's identity was out in the open.
Park Sung-tae — a third-year student who had consistently posted top marks among the elite talents that gathered at Ahseong High. But not a trace of a challenger's spirited confidence remained on his face. Only shock filled it, brimming to the edges.
"Damn it…."
Sung-tae clawed at the ground. His body refused to obey his will — understandable, given that he'd absorbed blow after blow of shock and lightning that would have knocked out anyone else. Still, he struggled desperately to rise.
There had been another reason he'd challenged Woo-jin. This duel had not come about purely for the sake of gaining combat experience. Sung-tae had always believed himself a genius. His outstanding talent, he was certain, was what had earned him his high standing even within Ahseong High School.
But the spotlight never landed on him. It belonged, time after time, to the underclassmen beneath him — most of all to Oh Baek-seo, a genius who came along once in an era, and to Ahn Woo-jin, who had seized the Disciplinary Committee Leader's seat right out from under her.
He could admit the difference in talent. But he had no intention of quietly accepting the label of a second-rate prodigy. He had made a vow: he was a genius, and he would climb upward by using other geniuses as his stepping stones.
Only then — only by defeating this man — could he prove himself, could his long-held faith in his own talent be vindicated. He wanted to prove that fact to every single spectator gathered here.
Sung-tae made it to his feet and raised his sword again. Fwoosh! The flame answered his call.
"He's getting up…?"
"Sure, the guy's got skill, but pulling a stunt like this? That's crossing a line."
"The Disciplinary Leader's insane, huh? Sinso can't even touch him."
"I had no idea he was this strong…. What the hell is his mana handling…?"
At some point, the crowd had begun showering Ahn Woo-jin with praise. Sinso's identity had come to light, and once the duel turned utterly one-sided, their interest in him had evaporated just as quickly.
But Sung-tae's eyes held nothing but Ahn Woo-jin. With a great wall planted right in front of his nose, there was no way the crowd's murmuring could reach his ears.
Tap, tap.
Woo-jin was walking toward him. His footsteps were unswervingly straight. Sinso found himself holding his breath without meaning to.
"If you were my senior, I should have shown you the proper courtesies."
Woo-jin said it in a flat, indifferent tone.
"I'll be done with the courtesy from here on. Let's finish this quickly."
"……!"
Sung-tae's eyes flew wide open.
"Don't tell me — you haven't been serious at all, this entire time…?"
"Unfortunately, Senior, you were never someone worth getting serious for."
"Kgh…!"
Park Sung-tae gritted his teeth.
"Don't make me laugh!"
Fwak! Sung-tae charged.
THUD!
What followed was the ending everyone had already predicted. Sung-tae's sword strike was ruthlessly snuffed out, and the lightning-wreathed staff bored into his entire body. Dull impacts rang out five times in rapid succession as brilliant teal arcs painted the air — crackle! — the surging lightning lending every blow its added weight.
What…?
Sung-tae couldn't even grasp what was happening to him.
The spectators gaped in disbelief.
BOOM!
At last, Woo-jin swung the three-section staff in a great arc. The deafening crash thundered across the hall, and Sung-tae went hurtling out of the sparring ring. Fwaaaah! The wind-pressure billowed outward. When his pressed-down cap threatened to fly off, Woo-jin snatched it out of the air and set it back on his head.
KRAK! Sung-tae slammed into the wall and slumped over, out cold.
Silence hung over the sparring hall for a long moment. Woo-jin, meanwhile, simply stood in quiet stillness, watching Sung-tae without moving.
"Th-the duel is over…!"
Finally the referee's cry pierced the silence.
"Victory goes to Disciplinary Committee Leader Ahn Woo-jin!"
The stunned students came back to their senses one by one and began to applaud. The healers cast simple recovery magic on Sung-tae for emergency treatment, loaded him onto a stretcher, and carried him away.
Scritch. Woo-jin wiped the blood from his three-section staff with a handkerchief, retracted the rods into one another, and refastened the collapsed staff to his belt. Then, gathering up his cap, he extended a hand toward the referee.
"Huh…? Are you about to share your thoughts on the match…?"
Without a word, Woo-jin took the microphone from the referee's hand. Then he turned to the camera that had been filming the duel and spoke.
"I hereby declare: from this day forward, should any student dare challenge the Disciplinary Committee again as this one did, they will be punished immediately and severely, in accordance with school regulations. Let everyone take note."
Woo-jin's voice was solemn. With the warning delivered, he handed the microphone back to the referee and stepped down from the ring. Referee and spectators alike could only stare blankly at his retreating back.
"My, my… Impressive."
Between the bleachers, Lee Se-ah smiled faintly. She had known he was strong — this was the Disciplinary Committee Leader of Ahseong High, the man who had single-handedly crushed the Precedent Incident — but she had never imagined it was on this level.
Watching the duel, she had felt a chill run down her spine again and again. Considering his mana level and his combat instincts together, Woo-jin had long since left any ordinary 4th Tier far behind him. He didn't seem to possess a Unique Ability, so he probably wasn't 5th Tier — but judging Woo-jin's strength through the narrow lens of 'tiers' was, in itself, a mistake.
Se-ah's desire to have Woo-jin burned even hotter. If she could only bring him over to her side, it was obvious what a magnificent ally he would become.
"Ye-song, why aren't you going over to your boyfriend candidate?"
"Ye-song always hated that senior anyway. Got totally fooled by the mask. Candidate's disqualified…."
Woo-jin led Vice Leader Oh Baek-seo and executive Ha Ye-song out of the sparring hall.
In this very moment, before the eyes of Academy City's movers and shakers, Woo-jin had cemented his place as an unknown powerhouse.
……
"……"
A woman was watching the recording of Woo-jin and Sinso's duel on ZTube. It was a video she had replayed God only knew how many times already.
She paused the video and enlarged the screen, gently tracing her fingertip along Woo-jin's cheek — and the image moved to follow her finger. But the sensation that reached her fingertip wasn't the softness of Woo-jin's skin. Only the cold hardness of the glass.
"You've gotten stronger, Woo-jin. This strong…"
She — Kim Dal-bi — kept gazing at his face on the screen, a soft, dreamy smile spreading across her lips.