Sparring with the Fund Investment Club
Seoul Hero Academy's sports field had transformed into a bustling festival ground, lined with booths set up by countless clubs recruiting new students.
"Come on over! For that romantic academy life, nothing beats the baseball club! Stop by for a consultation!"
"True romance comes from cards! Welcome to the Duel Club!"
"Swordsmanship Club is holding tryouts for freshmen! Come watch!"
"Whoa, there are so many clubs. Huh? What's a Duel Club?"
"Yeah…… Whoa! There's even a mock stock investment club!"
"Why are there so many clubs anyway?"
The three of them—too busy gawking at the booths and recruitment antics to notice much else—halted in unison when I stopped walking. Freshmen through and through, apparently.
"Jinwoo, you ready?"
"Huh? Of course. But…… is this really okay? I trust the boss and all, but…… honestly, I'm kinda scared."
Jinwoo rolled his shoulders and neck, shooting me a dubious look as he warmed up.
Ever since we'd left the International Trade Club, I'd given him one simple instruction: Join the Fund Investment Club, feign interest, then act like a total asshole.
"We'll all step in midway anyway, so no issues."
"For real……? If you ditch me, I'll curse you forever."
"……Just go already."
"I'm only going 'cause I trust the boss!"
With that, Jinwoo marched straight toward the target booth. We hung back at a natural distance to watch.
"Welcome! This is the Fund Investment Club! Interested in fund investing by any chance?"
Unlike the activity-focused clubs, this one emphasized real-world practice—which might explain the lack of crowds compared to others. The guy at the booth greeted Jinwoo's approach with a beaming smile.
Jinwoo blinked in surprise at the warm reception, glanced my way, cleared his throat with a ahem, and fixed the man with a serious stare.
"Nah, not interested."
"Pardon?"
The manager's eyes widened in confusion—whether from the sudden rejection after approaching or the casual banmal, it was hard to say.
"What."
"Ah, no…… You're not a freshman?"
Shaking his head as if he'd misread the situation, the man regained his composure and asked politely again. But Jinwoo stuck doggedly to his role.
"I am a freshman."
"R-right…… Haha! Then…… why the banmal right off the bat?"
Finally registering the confirmation, the man's brows furrowed in irritation as he glared at Jinwoo.
"Why? Jealous? You do it too."
"You fucking psycho?"
Sensing the brewing tension, club members started gathering. Jinwoo, unfazed, stared the guy down. Good call assigning this to him, I thought.
"Hah…… Fine. This academy's full of nutjobs anyway."
Reminded of the surrounding booths and freshmen, he held back his anger, trying to talk it out. But that wasn't what we wanted.
"So why'd you come to our booth if you're not interested?"
Jinwoo shrugged nonchalantly. "Heard you guys make bank."
"Sure, we're trade-focused, so pay's better than most. That what drew you?"
"Must mean you're loaded. Hand it over."
"What?"
"Gimme the money."
"Hah! You nuts? Think the Gold Club's your piggy bank?"
The mood soured fast. Jinwoo glanced my way, realizing it was time.
'Hurry! Up! And! Save! Me!'
He mouthed desperately. It was more entertaining than expected, but the stage was set—I headed over.
"Assaulting freshmen during club orientation? Must be the Gold Club's style."
"Huh? And who the hell are you?"
Maybe the hostile vibe? He hit me with banmal despite it being our first meeting.
"That guy's friend."
"What? That psycho's your friend? Why hang with a lunatic like him?"
"But why the banmal with a stranger?"
"……What?"
"If you're calling someone a psycho just for banmal…… doesn't that make it okay for me to call you seniors psychos too?"
Want to piss someone off completely? Easy. When they're already fuming, throw their own words back—humiliation and rage guaranteed.
And sure enough, the guy's face flushed beet red in real time.
"What the hell are you punks?"
"Can't tell from the name tags? Freshmen."
"Not asking 'cause I don't know that—asking why you're causing a scene at our booth."
Huh, still curious why we're doing this? Fitting for a Gold Club member—decent composure.
Environment looked good enough. I stepped up and said, "Beats me. All I saw were seniors about to get violent with freshmen."
"You little──."
"Gonna hit me? Do that here, and it's not just you—the whole club's in trouble."
I glanced around. A crowd had gathered: freshmen, other club members, all eyes on us. Beat a week-one freshman? He'd drag the Fund Investment Club down with him.
So I offered him an out. "You can't really swing anyway, so why not call it? You're not even on our level."
"……You just imply you want to die?"
"Funny how that sounded to you. ……Think you've got what it takes?"
"You bastards──!! Know who you're messing with?!"
Finally snapping? Perfect—that's what we wanted.
"Then do you seniors know who he is?"
"What?"
I draped an arm over Jinwoo's shoulder, scanning the encircling club members.
"This is the heir to the Bivalt Family under Calione. Think you can handle that?"
"Ca-Calione?"
"He's Calione-connected?"
My words hit like a bomb—the crowd erupted. Jinwoo, caught off-guard beside me, whispered frantically.
"B-boss! Saying it outright is embarrassing……."
"No point hiding it. Gotta show these name-droppers what a real name means."
That should shift their grudge from Jinwoo. Now, redirect it to me.
"Of course, you can't lynch my Calione-affiliated friend. I get it. So…… settle it with me instead, seniors."
"What?"
He scowled at my offer to take full responsibility.
"Freshman here requests instruction via sparring. Will you oblige?"
Academy rule: Seniors must accept a junior's formal sparring request for guidance. I'd used it in-game to smack annoying NPCs; bullies loved it too.
Community consensus: Academy made it so juniors could challenge anytime.
Their faces hardened at my request.
"Hah, heard that somewhere? It's not that sim──."
"Doesn't matter. You're just hollow suits playing money games anyway."
"What?"
"Oh, heard that? Meant you to."
I smirked pityingly to bait them.
"Scared?"
His face twisted.
"Fucking freshman…… Follow me to the arena. Now."
Yanking his tie loose in fury, another member held him back.
"Whoa, calm down! Sparring with a freshman?"
"He's outright challenging us!"
"But people are watching──."
"That's why the arena! Sparring's fair game there!"
Time to reel in more. "All rush me if you want. Same result."
"……Cocky bastard."
Calione blood surged hot. Bloodline: Calione had marked everyone ahead as foes.
"Follow us, freshman. We'll grant your wish."
Decision made—they left a few to guard the booth and headed to the arena, four in total.
Jinwoo watched with grim resolve. "Boss, don't worry. I'll fight with you at first."
Hand on his sheathed blade at his waist.
"I-I'll help too!"
"It's our club president's issue, so we should back him up."
Sea-a and Youngje steeled themselves to join. Touching, really……
"What're you talking about? Sparring's on me solo, as planned."
"Huh?"
"Pardon?"
"Eh?"
I'd always intended to handle this alone.
"Boss, you're facing four seniors solo?"
"We know you're strong, Eugene, but seniors?! Four of them?!"
"We're fine, really. Don't worry."
……Worried? About me?
They didn't know I was the Calione heir—or that I'd already run an organization.
Ah, fighting together would just hinder. Rookies with no teamwork experience? Obvious liability.
Time for the nice approach. "Appreciate the concern…… but I got this solo. If you're that worried, just stop the match if I seem in danger."
Sparring arenas always had an instructor referee. Here, it'd be the club's advisor.
Perfect. "Here's the plan, Sea-a. Can you fetch Instructor Ji Suhyun to the arena?"
"Instructor Ji Suhyun?"
"She's probably chilling in the staff room now. If she hesitates, mention we've got two consent forms secured."
Sea-a's eyes lit up knowingly.
"……Think she'll come for that?"
"Guaranteed."