Not in the Least
In one corner of the classroom, a group of students was engaged in a heated discussion.
"This is our chance! I'm definitely going to break into the top thirty of our grade in this year's competition!"
"Haha! I've already mastered the Basic Sword Styles to the sixth stage. I'm right on the verge of becoming a 3rd-grade Warrior!"
"If I can just master the Close-body Triple Link, I might be chosen as a grade representative. I could represent the 3rd Academy in the Unmong City Academic & Martial Arts Competition!"
"You guys really have no idea, do you? Talking about participating in the Academic & Martial Arts Competition like it's some walk in the park?"
"Exactly. Even if we set aside the National Imperial Junior Academy, where all the top geniuses of Unmong City gather, there are still over five hundred contestants from the six city academies, private schools, and independent practitioners. Every single one of them is a genius among geniuses! Even if you reach the peak of the 3rd-grade Warrior rank by mastering the Basic Sword Styles to the ninth stage, you'd still be nothing but a toddler compared to those rising stars."
"Ma Cheon-gun, isn't that a bit harsh? You're ruthlessly trampling on my grand dreams!"
"It's just the truth. Our 3rd Academy has failed to even pass the preliminaries for the Unmong City Academic & Martial Arts Competition for three years in a row."
"It's a hopeless track record, no doubt about it."
"You want to know what's even more hopeless? Our academy hasn't produced a single student qualified for the provincial-level competition in ten years."
"But wait, what about Oh Sobang from Class 1, Sa Sin-rim from Class 5, Mok Sim-wol from Class 6, and Mu Sae from Class 9? They're the biggest geniuses our 3rd Academy has seen in twenty years. Maybe there's a chance this time?"
The students continued their passionate debate. The twelve-year-old boys and girls huddled in small groups, laughing and chatting. Their youthful energy filled the classroom with a vibrant life.
The only exception was the space around Im Bukjin. Within a three-meter radius of him, not a single student dared to approach. A void surrounded him.
None of the students in the class wanted to be near Bukjin. To be more precise, they didn't even have the nerve to try. Bukjin's reputation had already preceded him—and not in a good way.
The original owner of the body Bukjin now inhabited was the legitimate son of Im Geun-nam, the All-Weather War God and one of the ten legendary generals of the North Sea Empire. Im Geun-nam had lost his wife in his middle years and had two children: a son and a daughter.
The eldest daughter was Im Cheong-seon. She was a monstrously talented girl whose fame echoed throughout the land. A living legend of Unmong City, her talent was considered peerless. She had reached the 1st-grade Warrior rank at the age of three and became a 3rd-grade Warrior by six. By ten, she had reached the pinnacle of that rank and entered the Martial Warrior realm. This year, at sixteen, she was already a freshman at the Imperial War Academy of the North Sea Empire—the youngest student in history to be admitted.
From her very first day of school, Im Cheong-seon had swept through the Academic & Martial Arts Competitions at the city, provincial, and national levels. She took the champion's seat every single time. Her talent was so dazzling that she was often called 'the peerless genius the entire Empire is waiting for to grow up.'
Her younger brother, Im Bukjin, was currently fourteen. Compared to his sister, the difference was like heaven and earth. He was lazy, hedonistic, arrogant, and utterly spoiled. Every derogatory term used for a profligate noble second-generation was pinned on him.
In truth, Bukjin had been troubled since childhood. To put it bluntly, he was a lunatic. He was a troublemaker among troublemakers, prone to actions that defied common sense and logic. In any other noble house, a brat like Bukjin would have been beaten within an inch of his life.
But his father, the All-Weather War God Im Geun-nam, was different. While he was cold and decisive on the battlefield, he was incredibly soft-hearted when it came to his son. He was, quite frankly, a fool for his boy. Im Geun-nam couldn't bring himself to scold Bukjin, let alone strike him. He cherished the boy like a fragile treasure that might break at any moment. He granted his wayward son's every wish, regardless of whether it was reasonable or not.
Even when Bukjin was expelled from the prestigious 1st and 2nd Junior Academies of Unmong City, his father didn't utter a single word of reproach. Instead, he pulled strings to get him enrolled here, at the 3rd Academy.
A year ago, war had broken out on the border between the North Sea Empire and the Aurora Empire. Im Geun-nam had led his army to the front lines. Meanwhile, Im Cheong-seon had graduated from the National Imperial Junior Academy and moved on to the Imperial War Academy. Consequently, there was no one left to keep Bukjin in check.
Bukjin had been living like an unbridled stallion. In the year since his father and sister left, he had turned the massive War God's Manor into a disaster zone. Currently, only one room in the entire estate remained intact. The 3rd Academy fared no better. In fact, the entire city of Unmong had been thrown into chaos by his antics more than once.
Whenever the cry "Im Bukjin is here!" rang out anywhere in Unmong City, the streets would clear in an instant. Not even an ant would be left behind. Because of this, his nickname was 'The Street Sweeper.'
Not a single student in his class had escaped his bullying. Who would dare cross someone with such a notorious reputation? Every student avoided him as if he were a walking plague.
The current Bukjin, however, didn't mind this situation at all. In fact, he enjoyed it. Having no friends meant he didn't have to interact with people much, which reduced the risk of his true identity being exposed.
It had been three days since he transmigrated into this new body. In that time, Bukjin had gathered a fair amount of information about this world. It was a place where powerful masters with incredible supernatural abilities existed. There were even beings akin to all-knowing, all-powerful deities. If it were ever discovered that another soul had hijacked Bukjin's body, he would likely be branded an 'evil spirit.' He could be dragged to the Sword Lord Temple in the center of the city to be 'purified.'
In this world, purification was just a fancy word for being burned at the stake!
Thus, Bukjin had to be extremely cautious.
Ding! Dong! Dang! Dong!
The short break ended, and class resumed. The teacher, Jeong Sam-seok, entered the room and took his place at the podium.
"Class is in session. As I mentioned before, this hour will be dedicated to the Close-body Triple Link. I must emphasize once more: although this triple-strike technique falls under the category of basic swordsmanship, it is a secret art I personally devised. It is the highest-tier secret technique of basic swordsmanship. It is fast, powerful, and accessible to everyone. If you truly make this technique your own, you will have no equal among 3rd-grade Warriors. It will undoubtedly be a great help in achieving good results in the competition and increasing your passing rate."
Every student began to focus intently on the lesson. Every student, that is, except for Bukjin, who sat in the middle of the front row. He wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. He was still staring at the smartphone in his hand.
Unfortunately, even with the start of a new class, he hadn't discovered any new functions on the phone. He still hadn't found a single clue on how to return to his own world. To make matters worse, the phone's power had dropped from 21% to 19%, and the battery icon had turned yellow.
Staring at the power-saving notification, Bukjin felt like he was being backed into a corner. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before the phone died completely. Was his path back to Earth really going to be cut off like this? Anxiety washed over him.
> Remaining Power: 19%
> System performance will be throttled to save energy.
> Switch to Power Saving Mode? [YES/NO]
Time flowed on, and the class drew to a close. The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.
"Alright, that's all for today."
Jeong Sam-seok finished his sentence and took a sip of water to moisten his throat.
"I have now explained and demonstrated the Close-body Triple Link. I expect you all to spend the next three days practicing diligently to achieve great results in the annual competition. As you know, this competition is the only metric our academy uses to determine if you are qualified to participate in the Academic & Martial Arts Competition. If you distinguish yourselves here, you will represent our academy in the most glorious event for the young warriors of Unmong City."
The students' blood boiled with excitement as they listened. The Academic & Martial Arts Competition was the dream of every boy and girl in Unmong City—and indeed, throughout the North Sea Empire. Jeong Sam-seok nodded in satisfaction at the determined expressions on their faces.
Then, his gaze shifted to Bukjin. Bukjin was still staring blankly at his hands. Jeong Sam-seok's patience had reached its limit. He wondered how much more of this he could take. He was on the verge of losing his temper and giving the dim-witted Bukjin a full-body 'massage' with all his might.
However, he suppressed his rage, remembering the request the War God had made before leaving for the battlefield. Clearing his throat, Jeong Sam-seok fixed Bukjin with a stern look and spoke.
"Im Bukjin. In the year since you transferred here, you have recorded a score of zero in both theory and practical exams every single month. You are the oldest student in this class, yet you haven't even progressed past the 1st-grade Warrior rank. Despite your poor performance in both academics and martial arts, you don't even bother to listen to the lectures. Do you feel no shame?"
"Not in the least," Bukjin replied, his eyes never leaving his smartphone.
"..."
Jeong Sam-seok was so incensed by Bukjin's insolence that he was momentarily speechless. Finally, he raised his voice and began to berate him.
"Your father, the War God, is one of the ten legendary generals of the Empire, shedding blood and sweat at the border to protect this nation! And your sister, Im Cheong-seon, is the greatest young swordsman in Pung-eo Province, our pride and joy! You are the legitimate son of such a great man, yet you set nothing but shameful records! Do you truly feel nothing about this?"