Chapter 224: Revenge Match
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 224: Revenge Match
"I'm sorry!"
The moment she called me up to the rooftop, Fuma-senpai bowed a full ninety degrees and apologized.
"..."
It was an apology straight out of a manga, so perfect it looked like it was drawn. I was momentarily stunned.
Thankfully, she didn't go as far as putting her hands together in a prayer-like gesture, but had she really done something to me that warranted such a deep apology?
I was pondering this when she finally raised her head and explained the reason for her sudden apology.
"I heard from the President. My father suddenly attacked you, and you two fought, didn't you? I'm sorry for dragging you into our family's affairs."
"It's not your fault, Fuma-senpai. It's not something you need to apologize for."
"But…"
"No buts. Please, stand up. You're making me really uncomfortable."
"…Alright."
At my firm tone, Fuma-senpai reluctantly straightened her back.
Only then did she seem to notice the wound on my face. She asked cautiously, "Does… does it hurt a lot?"
"Right now, it just stings a bit if I touch it. It happened last night, after all."
As I shrugged, Fuma-senpai nodded, her expression downcast.
Then, as if she'd just remembered, she added, "You don't have to worry about my father anymore. I'll go find him and make it clear that he's not to touch you."
"Oh, I'm fine with it, though."
"Kim Yoo-Sung, you're too nice for your own good. You need to be firm and say no when you don't like something."
"No, I'm saying it because I'm genuinely fine with it. Besides, I'm learning a new technique from him."
"A technique?"
For Fuma-senpai, who knew nothing about the situation, I explained 'Nagi,' the technique I had started learning yesterday.
"Nagi? I've never heard of such a technique in my life."
"I heard your father created it. Apparently, it's the reason he was able to defeat Ivan the God of Destruction at the 4th GOF."
"..."
Hearing my explanation, Fuma-senpai fell into deep thought.
Well, I couldn't blame her for being confused. A technique that even the next clan head and his own daughter didn't know about had just surfaced.
After a moment, her thoughts seemed to settle, and she looked at me with a serious expression.
"Okay, Kim Yoo-Sung, I understand your situation. If you have to fight Ivan again, it makes sense to learn even one more useful technique. But you don't have to push yourself to play along with my father's whims. If you get hurt, no one will take responsibility for you."
"I understand. Thanks for worrying about me, Senior."
"Wh-who said I was worried!"
As I tried to wrap up the conversation on a warm note, Fuma-senpai overreacted before quickly apologizing for taking up my time and leaving the rooftop.
I watched silently until her back disappeared from view, then remembered I hadn't eaten lunch yet and hurried back to the classroom.
*
After school.
With autumn drawing to a close, I clutched my collar against the considerable chill and headed to my usual fitness center.
I feel like I haven't mentioned it much lately, but I still come here to work out consistently.
"Just one more set!"
I gave a nod to the director, who was energetically scamming the members as usual, and was changing the plates on a barbell for a bench press when a familiar voice called out.
"Hyung-nim!"
"Kazu?"
It was Kazu, who had now become a pro gym rat.
"What brings you here at this hour?"
"Ah, I have something to do this evening, so I moved my workout a little earlier than usual."
At first, Kazu had scheduled his workouts to match mine, but when I advised him to find a time that was optimal for him instead, he switched to this time slot.
Because of that, we usually didn't see each other except during my morning workouts, so he seemed extra happy to see me.
"Need a spot?"
"Nah, it's fine. You should finish what you were doing. Don't you know you're not supposed to get distracted in the middle of a workout?"
"Hehe, I knew you'd say that, Hyung-nim."
Kazu chuckled good-naturedly and moved into the squat rack next to me, getting ready to do his squats.
I watched him with a pleased smile as I slid the last 20kg plate onto the bar.
Perhaps because it was a custom-made bar, it remained perfectly balanced without bending in the middle, even with a total of 240kg of plates on it. The sight was truly beautiful.
"Hup!"
A short inhale, then up and down.
My lower body, supporting the distributed weight, pushed against the floor as if to shove it away, while my back formed a perfect arch.
Executing the bench press with proper form to stimulate only my chest and triceps, I lowered the barbell and sat up the moment I finished the set.
With the sudden increase in blood flow, I could feel my muscles, significantly more pumped than usual, against my skin.
Always challenging your body's limits and overcoming them—isn't that the true joy of pumping iron?
Returning to the basics and reviewing the bench press, the very first exercise Director Yujiro taught me, made me feel somewhat sentimental.
I was in the middle of my workout when it happened.
Ding-a-ling! Ding-a-ling!
"So this is where you were, youngster."
A familiar voice came from the counter.
"Ivan!"
I cried out, startled in spite of myself.
It made sense, since only a handful of people knew I even came to this gym.
But Ivan, who appeared with a brazen look on his face, approached me as if he couldn't care less about such circumstances and spoke.
"Kim Yoo-Sung. I came to find you today for no other reason than to inform you about the revenge match we discussed yesterday."
"…A revenge match?"
"That's right. You've already spoken with that Fuma fellow, haven't you? This time, I will repay the humiliation I suffered in our last fight."
As he spoke, Ivan pulled something from his coat and held it out to me.
It was an invitation in a white envelope.
Somehow, this already felt far too formal.
Wasn't a fight just supposed to start with throwing punches?
"Don't you dare run."
Leaving me with that one warning-like remark, Ivan turned to leave the gym, but I quickly stopped him.
"Wait! Hold on a second!"
"?"
"Don't tell me this is it? You didn't have to come all the way here just to give me an invitation."
How did he even find me in the first place?
"Just an invitation? Handing it to you myself is the highest form of respect I can show an opponent."
"Respect?"
Even while condescendingly calling me 'youngster,' the way he drew a clear line in matters like this was very professional.
"To crush the best opponent at the highest stage. I am simply making a move for that purpose. So all you have to do is show up."
With that, Ivan glanced at me, apologized for interrupting my workout, and left the gym.
After he was gone, the director, who had approached a step too late, asked me, "Yoo-Sung-ah! Who was that guy?"
It seemed he was more interested in Ivan's body than my well-being.
Feeling a strange sense of betrayal, I answered his question meekly.
"A friend's father."
*
Training with Fuma Kotaro was very simple.
We just fought, over and over.
It was an incredibly crude method, but he said that since Nagi, the final secret art of Hayate, was closer to an enlightenment than a technique, this was the only way he could think of to teach it.
Thanks to that, there wasn't a day my body went without a new wound.
Just as one started to heal, another would appear. It couldn't be helped.
The day Ivan set for the duel was exactly one week away.
He probably set the date because he couldn't stay in Japan forever, but I couldn't help feeling that it was an incredibly tight schedule.
In reality, I hadn't grasped even a single clue about Nagi.
Clear your mind, he said. If it were as easy as it sounded, the man wouldn't have put the words 'secret art' in front of it.
"What are you staring at?"
"No, it's nothing."
I glared resentfully at Fuma Kotaro, who was obnoxiously stroking his chin in front of me, before shaking my head and sitting up.
It was already the fourth day of training.
But we had made no progress in the lesson, and I was still stuck at the stage of 'reading the wind.'
"So, isn't it about time you learned how to read the wind?"
"Not at all."
I shook my head firmly.
Fuma Kotaro was undoubtedly a strong fighter, but as a teacher, he was close to a zero.
He fundamentally relied on his own instincts and experience rather than theory, which made him terrible at explaining the image in his head to others.
"Isn't the concept of 'wind' too abstract in the first place? It's not like you can see it with your eyes."
"But it is most certainly there. That's all I can say."
"Haaah."
This wasn't a game of twenty questions.
I nodded reluctantly and once again looked inward, trying to feel the 'wind' Fuma Kotaro spoke of.
As my five senses gradually faded and I focused on sensing ki in the pitch-black darkness, I felt an unknown sensation.
I couldn't be sure if this was the 'wind' Fuma Kotaro mentioned, but it was undoubtedly the most likely candidate.
I kept reaching out my hand to grasp a clue.
But every time I did, it would just slip through my fingers like grains of sand.
Nothing was left in my hand.
"I failed again."
As I opened my eyes and said that, Fuma Kotaro just shrugged and said, "Well then, time to spar again."
I'm going to lose my mind.
Hoping this meaningless charade would end as soon as possible, I began to exchange fists with him.