Disciple: Baek Jaesung 9
Minyoung calmly stepped out of Jaesung's room. She walked down the hallway with natural strides. Being a floor full of male hunters, even the corridor reeked of that musty odor. It was the distinctive smell wafting from men's bodies in their prime. I should tell the management team to spray some deodorizer around here.
As she rode the elevator, her legs suddenly went weak. Minyoung gripped the handrail. Glancing in the mirror, she saw her stiff-faced self staring back in fascination. Minyoung shook her head.
Hoo…! To offer to teach a man directly. First time in my life.
Kim Minyoung—a 3 Rankdungeon hunter, direct descendant of a prestigious hunter family, and legitimate successor to KHC. She had titles too numerous to count. All because she was an exceptionally brilliant dungeon hunter. In the dungeon hunter world, she shone like a star.
Her family was the founding house of KHC, the first dungeon hunters to establish it. From childhood, she'd undergone every genius-level training imaginable. Great families often provide solid foundations, but plenty of heirs crumble under the pressure and go astray. Minyoung had exceeded all expectations. She'd awakened her ability early, back in high school. From there, her life was a straight path upward. She'd cleared over a hundred dungeons, enlisted in the 1st Landing Battalion under the Special Operations Command—the nation's top special forces—and earned two medals. She joined the Hunter Association and became the youngest section chief of the Seoul branch's dungeon raid team by age thirty. For the next decade, she'd raided dungeons and joined monster subjugation ops. Now, she passed on her hard-earned experience as an instructor and section chief.
A perfect life, the epitome of a prestigious hunter. Yet Minyoung had one nagging worry: disciples.
Her family had a core principle—martial succession through disciples. Like any deep-rooted martial house, the person-to-person transmission of skills persisted unbroken, even after KHC was popularized through the Hunter Association. Her father had raised many disciples, now famous dungeon hunters making a name in the Association and bolstering the family. This tradition stretched back to her grandfather, great-grandfather, and beyond. Raising disciples wasn't just tradition; it advanced the martial arts and expanded the family's influence. As a direct descendant, she had a duty to take one under her wing.
But Minyoung's standards were sky-high. Lately, she hadn't seen a single promising dungeon hunter. Trucks full of them bragged about mastering a few online moves and calling it KHC, but their forms were all garbage.
If I'm taking a disciple, it'll be one of those two. Han Seungjin or Baek Jaesung.
Her heart leaned toward Han Seungjin. He possessed an inscrutable talent that surpassed even hers. But his ability—Darkness Control—was a huge red flag. No matter how well she trained a disciple, if the family didn't approve, it was all for nothing. And her father was still hunting the bastard who killed her grandfather. Adopting someone who wielded a dark ability in this climate… too many potential issues.
He'd never even learned KHC. And his class was healer. From the start, Minyoung hadn't considered healers as candidates. Her KHC wasn't suited for healers, whose main role was combat support. A healer fighting meant the party was in dire straits—and preventing that was the mark of a true dungeon hunter.
Baek Jaesung. That man was different.
Unlike Han Seungjin, his first impression hadn't been striking. Just another face in the crowd of dungeon hunters. But that changed quickly. Watching him playfully toy with his combat training partner, she'd glimpsed his talent. His movements were frivolous, yet undeniably battle-ready. To a master like her, his skill was crystal clear. And the most shocking part? He himself seemed oblivious to it.
The poise of a veteran forged in countless real fights. Or someone who's survived high-level combat multiple times.
So she'd challenged him to a direct spar. The result was astonishing. Sure, she'd ended it with a near-foul attack after he startled her with sudden contact, but Baek Jaesung's skill was the real deal. No hesitation, clever ploys to bridge the gap in ability, and that superhuman burst of acceleration at the end. It felt like fighting someone with two abilities.
If he can do that untrained… maybe he could even surpass that guy…
Minyoung recalled her longtime friend—a fellow 3 Rank dungeon hunter treated like a 1 Rank, the world's strongest multi-player despite his rank. Ironically, her ability was Light Control, just like Baek Jaesung's. Minyoung shook her head. Hold on—I'm just overseeing some training. Not accepting him as a disciple yet.
A few had piqued her interest before. But she'd never taken them on. Once she tested their true talent, they always fell short.
Teaching a man one-on-one for the first time.
All her previous direct students had been women. Not on purpose—just how the talented ones shook out. Minyoung told herself it was no big deal, but quelling that odd excitement was tough. She was over forty now, still a virgin. If a man was kindling that blazed hot in youth, a woman was fruit that grew lush and fragrant only when fully ripened. Men's scents felt provocatively stimulating in a way they hadn't before.
Hoo. No stray thoughts. Focus on finding a disciple. Not like I'm dating at this age.
As a child, she'd been the family prodigy, burdened with expectations. As a hunter, work left no room for romance or even primping. Only after transferring to the education team did she have breathing room, but it was too late for marriage. Her physical age was early twenties, looks mid-twenties—but she'd never cared for romance or settling down. No pressure for heirs anyway; her siblings could handle that.
"Am I seriously tensing up over a man?"
Ding! The elevator hit the first floor. Minyoung headed back to her office. First things first—a shower.
*-*-*
The next day, I got intensive training from Instructor Kim Minyoung. My head was a mess of thoughts. Learning directly from a 3 Rank dungeon hunter was great. But even better? Close-quarters tutoring from a knockout like Kim Minyoung.
Tch. No matter how I rack my brain, no way to bang her comes to mind. Hmm. Spy on her and snag a weakness? Nah. Blackmail would get my waist snapped in half.
I forfeited all my sweet downtime and headed to the spot she'd told me about. The same training ground where we'd practiced KHC. Kim Minyoung was already there.
"We don't have much time left. We'll work on building your basics at least. First, I want to check your stamina. Full sprint until you're exhausted."
"Until exhausted?"
"Yes. Until you're exhausted."
Something felt off. But I did as told.
"Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff!"
Even I couldn't last over thirty minutes at full throttle. Hell, I tapped out at fifteen. No pacing meant my breathing went straight to shit.
"Too… fucking… hard!"
"That's normal."
Definitely something off.
*-*-*
I'd underestimated Instructor Kim Minyoung. Should've grasped what a 3 Rank dungeon hunter really meant from the start. She was a fucking monster.
"Huff…! Huff…!"
"Sit-ups: 10,000."
"You… counting right? Feels like over 10k already…"
"Only 5,000 so far."
Bullshit. I'd stopped counting at 7,000 in my head.
Fucking cunt!
Body in agony, beauty be damned—curses flew. In my mind, of course.
Someday I'll fuck her like a dog…!
"Good. Now push-ups: 10,000."
"Haa… just a quick break…"
"Rest while you do them."
She put me through hellish drills for a solid five hours. Zero break time. Every muscle screaming, body twitching like crazy. If I weren't a dungeon hunter, I'd have keeled over from overwork.
Fuck.
"Now that you're warmed up, let's get serious."
"This was the warm-up…?"
"Yes."
Fuck. Nearly passed out.
*-*-*
"Good. Your physical balance isn't bad."
Instructor Kim Minyoung said to me, a total wreck. I'd attacked her nonstop for an hour. She hadn't broken a sweat, blocking everything. Out of my 23,591 punches, she'd dodged 14,917 and blocked 8,674. And if she'd wanted, she could've dodged over half of those blocks too.
Counting them was the real freakshow. Bet she knows exactly how many loaves of bread she's eaten in her life. Gave me chills.
"But your combos are easy to read. You don't think at all during attacks. Mindless patterns get predicted. Want me to call your pattern? Left, right, right, left—then low. Repeated 670+ times in that last barrage."
"How the hell do you even count that?"
"Not important right now. Ten-minute break, then continue."
First break. I collapsed on the training ground floor. The cool surface felt amazing against my back. Hell, I could've jerked off right there.
From my low angle, I sneaked a peek at Instructor Kim Minyoung's crotch. Shame she wore pants—a skirt would've been prime. Pussy over clothes gives zero thrill. Guess I'll voyeur Everett or something.
Everett was my target American exchange student this workshop. Problem: her childhood friend Murray was glued to her side. Murray planned to confess here. Fat chance it'd go his way.
Everett and Murray were sipping coffee at a cafe, chatting in English—I had no clue what. Them getting along was bad news for me. NTR-ing Everett was part of my plan. At this rate, Murray'd steal her.
Gotta start construction on her room tonight.
Plan roughly set. I'd been peeping her habits. Every night before bed, she strolled the resort's front garden.
"Break's over. Let's go again."
Felt like no time passed—back to it. I hauled my ass up.
"Now, on KHC's basic moves and techniques."
"Basics like last time?"
"That was the absolute beginner basics. This is just the basics."
Whatever the difference—there was one. My muscles were still howling.
Instructor Kim Minyoung demonstrated first. Her form was like a drill sergeant's—every gesture precise and disciplined. I watched and mimicked. Even with her posing right in front, copying was surprisingly tough. She corrected me over and over.
"Yes, that stance… Slowly circulate your mana as you extend your hand. KHC's most basic straight punch."
"How do I circulate mana?"
"Start from your heart, surge it along the shortest path to your right arm's tip—like a sprint."