A Tiger Takes Flight
Cha Entertainment’s morning routine begins at nine, but no one stops trainees from showing up early to practice. Physical training, in particular, is actively encouraged even at dawn. Today, as usual, the gym already held its resident powerhouse—Tasha—loosening up.
“She’s the real deal. Where does that stamina even come from? Guess you can’t keep up with active duty after all.”
Tasha, who had been out causing trouble until dawn the night before, was pounding the heavy bag with her usual crisp, efficient rhythm. Jab, cross, kick, kick, kick. Her movements were so clean and sharp that anyone watching would assume she’d had a full night’s sleep. In reality, this was the movement of someone running on three days of fragmented naps. She had long since transcended ordinary human limits. In my prime I might have matched her, but not in my current state.
“Still… she really is something to look at.”
Tasha’s workout gear consisted of gray leggings and a black tube top—very little left to the imagination. The effect was devastating. With her already perfect proportions, she looked like the lead actress in a Hollywood action film. Dreamy golden-blonde hair with a reddish tint, luminous blue eyes, and that body. Especially the dense, defined muscles and abs packed tightly under her skin, and that hypnotic waistline—even another woman had to admit it was impressive. And then there was the problem: no matter how tightly she tried to rein it in, that overwhelming “pride” of hers refused to stay hidden. Just watching her made my chest swell with a strange sense of grandeur.
In a world where almost no female idol skips training, a physique this attractive was still rare. Men would go crazy for her. On top of that, Tasha had the kind of face that appealed to female fans too—the rough, tough aura she carried was oddly magnetic to women. I could say that with certainty because my own early days in the Special Task Force had given me a very similar vibe. The female staff at the Superhuman Bureau had adored me back then. I never understood what they wanted, but I received plenty of Valentine’s chocolate. That was a long time ago, of course, but if there was one profession that could milk that kind of attention dry, it was being an idol.
“A talent that can charm both male and female fans… Having someone like her on the team would definitely be an asset.”
If we could just get past this current hurdle, I could already picture the beautiful future where Tasha worked herself to the bone while I reaped the benefits from behind. That was the best-case scenario I could realistically hope for.
“But it’s never that easy, is it?”
If I had been looking at Tasha purely as an idol until now, it was time to switch to a Special Task Force perspective. Among everyone who had benefited most from Trainer Cha Mi-joo’s hellish regimen, Tasha and I stood at the top. Seong Jiyeong and Yu Hana had trained diligently, but nowhere near our level. Ji Seoeun had barely survived the program. Tasha, having experienced real fieldwork, would know exactly how broken Trainer Cha’s density-control method was. The same body could output overwhelmingly greater power. Anyone who had been in the field would never let such an opportunity slip by.
Neither Tasha nor I—both of us veterans of far harsher training—would find an idol trainee’s curriculum particularly taxing. I had struggled only because my body had been in terrible shape; Tasha had still been active duty until recently. Thanks to that “density control,” her physique had become even slimmer and more alluring than when we first met, while her underlying strength had grown dramatically denser. It was like a tiger that had sprouted wings.
“The Superhuman Bureau idiots are really something. If they wanted to strengthen the Special Task Force, they should’ve poached Trainer Mi-joo. Bunch of morons.”
A conservative organization like the Bureau would never easily accept such a “new paradigm,” but if a deal like “Cha Mi-joo’s commission into the Special Task Force” ever went through, the Bureau’s overall combat power would surge by at least thirty percent. In other words, the current Tasha was at least twenty to thirty percent stronger than she had been on active duty.
“Just thinking about it gives me a headache.”
I hid in the shadows, carefully observing and analyzing Tasha’s movements while trying to figure out how to neutralize her most efficiently. On raw physical specs alone, I was at a disadvantage. That was only natural. No matter how skilled I was, I still hadn’t regained my prime condition, whereas she had been active until just days ago. Our basic physical builds were also vastly different. In a fight between experts, even a single centimeter of reach could decide everything. Unless someone had an unusual body type, reach scaled with height. Tasha’s profile listed her at 169 cm, but her actual height was 170.9. Mine was listed as 164 cm, actual 163.2. That gap alone was already significant. She was mixed-race with Western blood; I was pure Asian. While white physiques didn’t match Black ones, they still held overwhelming superiority over Asian builds. When two superhumans had undergone the same training, an Asian defeating a Black or white opponent was never easy. To close that gap, I would have to rely on experience, technique, and the psychic energy that was still relatively unknown in this era. Observation and analysis were therefore critical. The one advantage I had was that she knew nothing about me, while I already knew quite a bit about her. That small difference might be enough to turn the tables.
I stayed hidden, watching and calculating, until the moment Tasha finished her workout.
While Na Yeri was agonizing over how to handle Tasha, another member of the same team was wrestling with a similar problem—Seong Jiyeong.
“Ha… Is this actually true?”
“Yes, miss. It appears certain that Anastasia Sergeyevna Lyubelyov, your teammate, is the recently active Black Yaksha.”
Seong Jiyeong, who shared a room with Tasha, had already noticed her roommate occasionally slipping out at night and found it strange. She had assumed it would be a one- or two-time occurrence, but the late-night outings continued. Growing suspicious, she had someone tail Tasha—and today the results had come back. The infamous Black Yaksha was Tasha.
She hadn’t personally confirmed the Black Yaksha’s identity, but there was no doubt. Tasha’s movements perfectly matched the areas where the Black Yaksha had appeared. Once or twice could be dismissed as coincidence, but repeated occurrences ruled that out.
“I really don’t understand what’s going on with this team. What even is this group? Getting suddenly thrown into the debut lineup, nothing ever going the way I expect…”
“I’m sorry, miss. I never imagined you would be placed in the debut team either…”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Secretary Nam. In the end, I made the choice. I was the one who decided to go through with debuting. This is just me venting because I’m flustered.”
Truthfully, Seong Jiyeong had never planned to become an idol. If she had, she would have chosen an agency with a more relaxed schedule to secure more training time. With her looks and talent, if she had moved with genuine intent, even the narrow gates of a major company would have opened for her. Even at TD, the so-called cradle of idols, she would have had only a year and a half left before debut evaluations. If she was confident in her skills, TD would have been the fastest route to debuting. She had chosen Cha Entertainment precisely because it left most of the training up to the trainees themselves. Unlike other agencies, Cha Entertainment only demanded the necessary practice and otherwise left trainees largely alone. Once you were registered as a trainee, you could spend several years doing whatever you wanted without worrying about other people’s eyes. As a relative of an investor who also held shares, she could avoid interference even more easily.
So she had bought shares and entered as a trainee—only for things to take a strange turn. The CEO, who had initially declared that joining the debut team would be difficult, had suddenly selected her anyway. At first, she had been completely bewildered. Then she had to make a choice: accept the debut spot or switch agencies immediately. But an idol trainee leaving right after being added to the debut lineup would look far too suspicious. She had already gone to great lengths to avoid her family’s scrutiny by becoming an idol trainee; any strange behavior now would render all that effort pointless. In the end, she had accepted the debut position.
Even though she had been pushed into it, Seong Jiyeong gave it her all. She was the type who didn’t know how to do anything halfway, and she wanted to succeed so thoroughly that her family would have no room to object. Besides, recalling how Cha Entertainment had handled Purple Swan, she believed she could balance her goals with idol life. The agency never forced unreasonable schedules. That was how her debut-team life had begun—only to immediately feel off. A Black Yaksha had suddenly appeared in an idol debut lineup. The other members were all strange in their own ways too. She even wondered whether this group could function properly as a team at all. Success as an idol wasn’t her top priority, but having her plans derailed like this was hard to accept.
“Well, this is still easier to deal with than suddenly being thrown into the debut team. A Black Yaksha is actually rather convenient.”
“What do you plan to do, miss…?”
“She’s obviously a high-value asset, isn’t she? The Black Yaksha. I need to reel her in somehow. I was just starting to think about building my own organization, and the perfect candidate appeared. Being in the debut team was worth it after all.”
Having her roommate turn out to be the Black Yaksha wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for Seong Jiyeong. Though they hadn’t known each other long, she already considered Tasha trustworthy. She had been feeling the need for capable allies lately. If she could recruit Tasha, the inconvenience of joining the debut team would feel justified.
“Persuasion may not be easy.”
“Probably not. But the fact that she caused such chaos in Yeongdeungpo means she definitely wants something. If I can provide it, she might help me, right?”
“It would be ideal if things go smoothly, but…”
“Even if persuasion fails, she’ll still feel indebted and want to repay the favor. Either way, it’s not a loss.”
“Then you should move quickly. The Storm faction has been growing more active…”
“Ah, of course. They’ll be more desperate than I am.”
“A district that has lost face cannot manage its territory smoothly.”
“Exactly. I need to hurry.”
Seong Jiyeong began gathering her things with a determined expression. Just as she was about to head out, she paused and looked back at Secretary Nam.
“By the way, has there been any news from Janwol?”
“Pardon? Ah, that… not yet…”
“I see. Well, that’s not the urgent matter right now. Understood. We’ll talk again later.”
“Yes, miss.”
As Seong Jiyeong moved, Secretary Nam rose as well and bowed toward her retreating figure. When he lifted his head again, she had already vanished from sight.