Freefall
“Jump!”
At the signal, I stepped off into the void. Cold wind whipped across my cheeks as fierce air currents wrapped around my body. Our descent speed quickly exceeded 200 km/h. Far below, the buildings of the airbase looked like scattered dots. Ignoring the deafening roar in my ears, I kept my eyes fixed on the altimeter. The numbers raced downward from 35,000 feet: 30,000, 25,000…
Now.
The moment we hit the designated altitude during freefall, I deployed the parachute. My body jolted as a sudden pressure gripped me. I adjusted the canopy with practiced ease and glided toward the target. Thud— The impact felt like leaping from a building, but with my inner energy already reinforcing my frame, I barely noticed it.
One week. That was how long it took the cadets to grow accustomed to aerial descent—starting with balloon drops, then helicopter jumps, transport plane drops, and finally the high-altitude, low-opening maneuver we had just completed. Even the cadets who had screamed during the mock tower training now landed with smooth proficiency. Their innate talent as martial artists made the learning curve absurdly steep. Above all, the safety net provided by Professor Mumyeong—who moved through the sky as if it were solid ground—eliminated any real danger.
Tap—
Cheon Hayeon landed right after me and walked over. “You don’t seem to need a parachute at all.”
No matter how I looked at it, the parachute on her back appeared purely decorative.
“I suppose I could manage without one.”
“I knew it.”
“Still, comfort has its merits. Until one reaches the stage where they can freely manipulate natural qi, inner energy must be distributed efficiently.”
“Your thinking is surprisingly open-minded.”
“A martial artist cannot live solely in the mountains. The Heavenly Demon Sect in particular harbors little aversion to modern conveniences.”
She was right. The Heavenly Demon Sect, now based in Jeju, had effectively become the island’s ruler. Under the Korean government’s tacit approval, they had adapted so thoroughly to modern society that they even sold merchandise online. In that regard, they differed sharply from the more conservative orthodox factions.
“How fun.”
While Cheon Hayeon and I chatted, Han Yeoreum descended and approached us, her cheeks faintly flushed as though she had just ridden a roller coaster.
“Weren’t you the one screaming on the mock tower?”
“That was because it was so sudden. You didn’t even warn me!”
“Stay sharp.”
“Ugh, of course I’m being careful. Besides, we’ve got that professor watching over us.”
Han Yeoreum clasped her hands behind her back and gazed up at Professor Mumyeong hovering regally in the air.
“That’s true enough.”
“What is his deal, anyway? His name can’t actually be Mumyeong. And no one even introduced him properly.”
“…Who knows.”
The elderly instructor wore a tattered robe. Watching his movements, I had a fair guess and turned to Cheon Hayeon.
“Cloud Dragon’s Eight Great Forms. Am I right?”
“Indeed. He is likely… one of the few surviving members of the fallen Kunlun Sect.”
The Kunlun Sect had once served as the gatekeepers blocking the Heavenly Demon Sect in the Tianshan Mountains of Xinjiang. Unlike the Heavenly Demon Sect, which had quickly regrouped and retreated to Korea, most of Kunlun’s disciples had remained to defend their main mountain and perished in the process. The sight of such a once-great rival reduced to this state seemed to leave a bitter taste even for Cheon Hayeon; a trace of melancholy colored her smile.
“Is this the right place?”
Han Yeoreum grabbed my wrist and tilted her head.
“Yeah.”
“Do student council orientations usually happen in places like this?”
“Of course not.”
Right after finishing the descent training at the 25th Special Mission Air Wing, we had come here instead of returning straight to the academy. Today was the day of the student council’s first official gathering. Rather than a casual meet-and-greet at some ordinary bar, they had rented out an entire upscale establishment. The result was a venue that practically screamed luxury.
“They really went all out. This isn’t being paid for with cadet funds, is it?”
“Probably not. There must be separate sponsorship. Misusing student council fees would cause an uproar.”
“Sponsorship? From where?”
“Alumni, the Martial Alliance… or maybe the student council president’s own pocket. Let’s head in.”
“Ugh, fine.”
Han Yeoreum followed close behind me, looking slightly nervous.
“Kim Mugong-nim, Han Yeoreum-nim. You’ve been verified.”
The sharply dressed bartender at the entrance checked our identities and guided us inside.
“Whoa…!”
Han Yeoreum let out a small gasp beside me. Dim lighting bathed the interior, accompanied by soft classical music. It was the quintessential upscale bar with a heavy, refined atmosphere.
“First time in a place like this.”
“Because you don’t like alcohol.”
“I don’t get why everyone goes crazy over something that just tastes bitter.”
“Cocktails can be pretty sweet.”
“Take me with you next time. Did you go alone before?”
Classic case of the pot calling the kettle black. She had turned down my invitation to go out on her birthday, claiming it was too bothersome, yet now she was pouting like this. I felt an overwhelming urge to flick her forehead.
“I didn’t know it would be like this. I figured it’d be some loud club or something.”
“There are plenty of bars. You can find them all online.”
“Too much work.”
While we exchanged idle chatter, the bartender led us to our seats.
“Welcome.”
Moyong Seong, seated at the head of the table with impeccable posture, greeted us first. Flanking him on the long table were faces I had never seen before.
“Sorry we’re late. Class ran long.”
After greeting everyone alongside Han Yeoreum, we took our seats at the empty spots. A glass of whiskey sat in front of each person. Being the only first-years, we drew more than a few curious glances.
“Junior, hello.”
Beatrice, who had somehow seated herself right beside me, waved. I responded with a small nod. Since our first meeting, she had acted like a reliable senior, giving nothing away.
“Thank you all for coming despite your busy schedules. As this is our first gathering of the new semester, I hope you’ll enjoy yourselves freely. Beatrice.”
Moyong Seong turned his gaze toward her. Beatrice swept her eyes over the room before speaking.
“I assume everyone here knows who I am, but for formality’s sake—Vice Student Council President Beatrice. Since we have new members today, let’s go around and introduce ourselves briefly.”
Starting from the seat to the right of the student council president, each person stood and introduced themselves. Third-year representative Jin Sanho. Second-year representative Pae Sogun. Iron Fist Chief of the Silent Fist Squad, Cheol Mujin. Treasurer and Open Faction’s Latter Beggar, Choi Naeun. Quite a few heavy hitters.
After Han Yeoreum and I finished our short introductions, Moyong Seong, who had been listening quietly, rose with his whiskey glass in hand.
“Righteousness!”
He raised his glass in a toast.
“A thousand autumns!”
Everyone responded in unison, as if they had done this many times before.
“The White Path!”
“All under heaven!”
“For the Martial Alliance!”
“For the Alliance!”
Everyone except Han Yeoreum downed their whiskey in one go. She just sat there with a blank expression, still holding her glass. Watching these imposing martial artists raise their glasses like this made the scene feel more like a gathering of some violent syndicate.
…Well, technically it was a violent syndicate, wasn’t it? Before the Gate incidents, martial artists had essentially been powerful organized crime groups operating in the shadows.
“Hey, snap out of it.”
I poked Han Yeoreum’s side as she continued to space out.
“My image of the student council was a bit more…”
“More what?”
“Cute and cuddly.”
Han Yeoreum carefully lifted her whiskey glass and took a tiny sip.
Moyong Seong approached us and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Order whatever you like. Tonight, you two are the guests of honor.”
“Thank you. Then I won’t hold back.”
“It’s on my personal tab, so feel free. The Moyong Clan has plenty of money. And no forcing drinks as a game—that’s banned.”
Moyong Seong’s lips curved slightly. He claimed it was a joke, but his expression was so serious that it didn’t feel like one at all.
“Juniors, care for a drink?”
After Moyong Seong left, Beatrice sidled up beside me with a bottle in hand.
“Senior, you’re too close.”
I immediately shifted my hips to create distance.
“How else am I supposed to pour? Here, let’s start with Junior Han Yeoreum. No forcing drinks, remember?”
Glug glug glug—
Beatrice filled Han Yeoreum’s glass to the brim with whiskey as if it were beer.
“S-Senior?”
Han Yeoreum’s eyes trembled violently.
“Come on, drink up. You wouldn’t refuse my goodwill, would you?”
“If you don’t want it, don’t drink it.”
I snatched the glass away before she could be pressured and downed it myself. A spicy, intense peaty aroma stung my nose. At least 60% alcohol. Even for martial artists, serving something like this to be drunk in one go was hardly normal.
“Junior, are you acting protective because she’s your girl? How dashing.”
“Wait, Kim Mugong. Switch seats with me. You’re way too close to her.”
Han Yeoreum, eyes narrowed, grabbed my sleeve.
“Yeah. Just don’t drink everything they pour. Take it easy.”
“Ugh, fine.”
***
“Hahaha! It’s a relief you stopped those damn criminals. Otherwise, the Silent Fist Squad’s reputation would’ve taken a real hit!”
Leaving Han Yeoreum to deal with Beatrice, I went around greeting the others. The person currently pounding my back with a fist the size of a pot lid while laughing heartily was Cheol Mujin, chief of the Silent Fist Squad.
“Not at all.”
“Interested in joining the Silent Fist Squad? I’m not bragging, but graduates from our squad have an easier time entering the Martial Alliance’s strike teams after graduation!”
“I’ll think about it a bit more.”
“A shame. Is it because of our strict discipline?”
Cheol Mujin clicked his tongue.
“Yes. I’m not ready to be tied down just yet.”
The Silent Fist Squad was an organization built on strict military hierarchy. Compared to the relatively free student council, joining would mean dealing with far more restrictions. I wasn’t prepared for that.
“Hmm, there’s also the relatively free Special Operations Unit. Give it some thought.”
“Understood.”
I nodded and shared a drink with Cheol Mujin.
“Kim Mugong, you bastard…!”
Suddenly, Han Yeoreum’s voice rang out loud enough for everyone to hear from Beatrice’s direction.
“Our lovely junior seems quite drunk.”
“My apologies.”
Cheol Mujin chuckled and waved me off. Letting out a deep sigh inwardly, I stood up.
“You jerk…!”
Once again, Han Yeoreum’s slurred voice reached my ears.