Dojo Breaker

Professor Baek Seo-jin couldn't shake the feeling that the skill levels of students taking her lectures were dropping day by day. It wasn't as bad as under-the-table sharing of family cheat sheets or insider tips tanking the quality completely, but if they were gaining time advantages from it, they should have been producing far better results. When I heard her concerns, I made a simple proposal: I'd expose every flaw in the students' wands one by one, if she'd just give me a chance to duel them.

True to her sharp mind, Professor Baek played it clever. She handed me the demo evaluation for the wands and, in exchange, offered duel opportunities to let them recover their grades. She hadn't planned on giving high marks from the start anyway—instead, she'd instill a sense of crisis to deliver a lesson they'd never forget. A ruthlessly brilliant idea, straight out of a professor's playbook.

The students, oblivious and assuming they'd been bombed with C's and D's, jumped at the second chance. They scrambled to repair and refine their wands without a moment's rest.

"Nami, what're you doing?"

"Need a witness. With all these high-up kids around, retaliation could be a nightmare later."

"Pfft, they're just kids—what retaliation? Don't worry, they're all sweethearts."

Theory Magic Department students were even more tight-lipped than music majors. In my past life, plenty challenged me to duels, but losers often vented by mobilizing their duke or earl families to stir up chaos. Better safe than ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sorry—precautions never hurt.

Streaming had its own issues. Without games, content was thin, making it hard to hold viewers. I was never great with words anyway. Streamers who could chat effortlessly with strangers? I envied that skill sometimes. Procrastinating only works so many times—fans desperately waiting and lamenting got to me.

Bored, so turn on stream. But no content. Postpone again. A rock-paper-scissors loop of thoughts had kept this going forever.

"What's the unbeatable way to win rock-paper-scissors?"

"Um... this is the Kim Ung Advanced Gym at Korea University. Built with a 1.5 billion won donation from Mr. Kim Ung. Walls, ceiling, floor—all treated with anti-mana barriers."

"Can I spill? Not enrolled, but just got picked as Korea University promo ambassador today. Kinda random—they asked me to shoot promo vids, so I'm trying out classes."

They weren't ready yet? A guy dramatically hoisting his emergency-repaired wand got yanked by his hair by a girl. Too many fixes—why rush? Scolding was fierce. True to Theory Magic, even catching rabbits, they went all out.

One team finished soldering-like work, got final prof approval.

"Common rules: 2nd Circle max, obviously wand eval class so hands-free (wand-only), cast with wand not hands."

Using these toy wands was handicap enough.

"My wand's top-tier, so I'm advantaged... but they gave handicap. No direct strikes."

Only aura-fist left, but they refused even that—huge edge for me.

"My wand? This one—never showed it?"

Cheon Professor's birthday gift: Swiss portable transmutation circle writer. 30 million won luxury.

Showing it on cam doubled chat speed.

* * *

Shin Yeon-ho, Alteer Academy runner-up grad from Gangbuk. Middle school: led to academy tourney win over Seferon. Grades too good—parents/teachers pushed Theory Magic. Couldn't quit duels, secretly entered nationals, crushed seniors to quarters as high school sophomore. No prep, quarters run. Magic talent + aura vs philosophy kids = top 1v1 in department. When prof switched eval to wand duels, Shin grinned first.

So kid, you're my kind too.

Pity classmates missing duel thrill. As future Korea U senior, he'd teach her proper. Until her stream popped on.

"Hands-free aside, full free rules? Free cast, free strikes."

"Dude! That's disaster!"

Female. Elementary. 8yo. Terror victim. National darling. Who'd punch her on thousands' stream?

"Why?"

Nami's innocent blink made Shin's vein throb.

"You free rules. I'll attack wand-only."

"Fist fine by me."

"Nami plz say something sane... burying me here?"

Even shoulder fake-out = headlines tomorrow. Shin imagined trash tabloids:

'Korea U student full-force punches 8yo. Grades = free pass?'

'Elite character ed ok? OO Clan kids' reckless rampage continues.'

Pen mightier—self-restraint needed. Nami smacked lips disappointedly.

While prof explained rules in auditorium, Nami and Yeon-ho entered waiting room for barriers. Dimmer than hall—soft red lights, not LEDs. Center: adult-sized crystal orb, diamond-clear or ruby-hued. Both pressed right hands opposite sides.

High-density energy coiled as Nami meditated eyes closed. Her cuteness struck Yeon-ho fond.

"Nami, who's strongest in your grade? You top?"

"Huh?"

"Duels. Grade rankings."

"Seferon starts duels year 4."

Flat tone, emotionless.

"... First duel ever today?"

"Kinda."

"Dude! What're you doing! No barrier theory—how'll you fight...!"

Tiny Nami finished injection first, rotated wrists/ankles loose. Thought duel maniac, but actual first fight ever. Yeon-ho clutched neck stunned.

Nami's gaze on him: icy cold.

"Didn't watch my stream? Subbed, I'd go easy—but nah."

Any WoA stream would've prevented that reaction.

"Hope your wand works well."

Nami exited first. Red light cast her long shadow writhing ominous black-red.