How on Earth Did You Do It?

Sunset descended, and a heavy silence settled over the 3rd Academy. Deep within the training grounds, tucked away in a small thicket, Bukjin returned to his camp. As he approached, Wang Chung glared at him with a look of profound betrayal.

"Young Master... my sword..."

"Yeah, it broke."

"I-it's impossible! That was a precious blade passed down through my family for generations!"

"Is that so? Well, it's still broken."

"Young Master, that sword was truly a masterpiece—"

"I'm telling you, it's really, actually broken."

"Sniffle... My sword! Eighteen generations of the Wang family held that blade! I'm so sorry, ancestors! It's because of me that—"

"Stop it. I'll buy you a new one later."

"R-really? In that case, I'll take the Blue Bird Sword. It's the latest model from Master Fan's forge, and it's the most popular trend in Unmong City right now."

"Fine. Do whatever you want."

"Thank you, Young Master! I'll have dinner ready for you in a heartbeat!"

Bukjin watched him scurry off, thinking that no matter how annoying he was, it would be hard to find another servant as capable as Wang Chung. A lavish dinner was prepared in record time—a delicious spread of meat and vegetables, perfectly seasoned and beautifully plated. When Wang Chung added a bottle of Peach Blossom Brew, a famous local liquor, the meal felt like something served at a five-star inn.

Wang Chung truly was a butler who knew how to treat a guest. As Bukjin savored the meal, he reaffirmed his belief that there was no one quite like him. Once he had eaten his fill, Bukjin retreated into his tent and pulled out his smartphone.

There were still no changes. Exhaustion finally caught up with him. Although his Hyeongi kept his body in peak condition, the mental fatigue from a full day of duels was real. Bukjin drifted into a deep sleep almost instantly.

About an hour later, while Bukjin was in the middle of a sweet dream, Wang Chung’s cautious voice drifted in from outside.

"Young Master, Young Master! Someone is here to see you."

Wang Chung pulled back the tent flap. Bukjin sat up halfway, his face still clouded with sleep.

"Who is it? Tell them I'm busy and to get lost."

"W-well, it's a rather special person. Hehe, I think it would be best if you met her."

There was a strange, hesitant quality to Wang Chung's voice. Annoyed, Bukjin dragged himself out of bed and stepped outside.

"What kind of bastard—"

Bukjin froze. Standing among the trees was a figure dressed in blue swordsman's robes. She was beautiful, looking like a bright flower blooming in the middle of the dark forest. It was Mok Simwol. She stood there quietly, a gentle smile on her face.

"Huh?" Bukjin said, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He finally understood why Wang Chung had been so careful. The butler clearly thought there was still some 'special' relationship between him and Mok Simwol.

"I came to see you," Mok Simwol said softly. "Are you not going to welcome me?"

"Of course..." Bukjin replied. "I'm not welcoming you. Get out."

Mok Simwol didn't seem bothered. If anything, her smile widened. "Silly. Are you still mad at me?"

Bukjin was momentarily taken aback. He realized then that Mok Simwol was a natural-born seductress. How could she have the gall to show up here and talk to him like this after everything?

"I know you resent me. That day, when you were truly in trouble, I said some terrible things to you. I even told you we were finished..." Mok Simwol bit her lip, her expression turning sorrowful. "But do you know why? It was all to motivate you. I believed that only by hitting rock bottom and losing everything would you find true enlightenment and grow. And look at you now! you've risen again and become a completely different person. I was right, wasn't I?"

Clap, clap, clap!

Suddenly, Bukjin began to applaud. Then, he sprinted to the side and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Butler Wang! A bucket! Quick, bring me a bucket!"

Wang Chung, terrified that the Young Master had developed indigestion from the dinner he'd prepared, came running with a water bucket.

"Young Master! A-are you alright?!"

"It's too disgusting," Bukjin said, dry-heaving over the bucket with exaggerated intensity. "It's so nauseating my stomach is turning inside out. Honestly, I never thought ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'd meet someone with a thicker skin than mine... I'm so disgusted I'm speechless."

"Young Master, shall I pat your back?" Wang Chung, being the experienced servant he was, immediately caught on to the situation. "I suppose she is beautiful on the outside, but her insides are rotten and foul, aren't they? If you just ignore the words coming out of that mouth and look at her face and figure, she's top-tier. Based on my experience, give her two or three more years to mature, and she'll be perfect."

Wang Chung was perfectly in sync with Bukjin's mood. Smart guy... Bukjin couldn't help but praise him internally.

"Exactly," Bukjin said with a sigh of regret. "It's such a shame that such a beautiful woman was born with a mouth that spews such revolting nonsense."

Listening to them, Mok Simwol felt a surge of rage deep within her soul. However, she managed to keep her emotions under tight control.

"Bukjin, if saying those things makes you feel better, I'll accept it. I hurt you deeply that day, so I will endure this," she said.

Bukjin was actually impressed. Her acting was superb—so good it was almost frightening. It only made him more certain that he wanted nothing to do with a woman like her.

"Just go. Nothing good is going to come out of this conversation. I'll see you on the stage tomorrow."

Mok Simwol pouted. "No. I'm not leaving until you forgive me."

"This crazy bitch..." The curse slipped out of Bukjin's mouth before he could stop it. "Hey! What exactly are you trying to pull here?"

Bukjin shouted, his irritation reaching its limit. Mok Simwol smiled and stepped closer.

"I know you'll forgive me eventually. So... about tomorrow's match on the stage... couldn't you just let me win this once?"

"What?" Bukjin's jaw dropped. He had never imagined someone could be this shameless.

"You might not know this, but winning first place in this competition is incredibly important to me," Mok Simwol continued. "If you let me win, I can promise to stay by your side forever."

"You know I signed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a slave contract with Oh Sobang," Bukjin pointed out. "Are you telling me to become a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠literal slave?"

"Senior Oh doesn't matter. I'll persuade him to tear up the contract."

Bukjin finally snapped. "Just get the hell out of here. Looking at your disgusting face is making me sick. I forge my own destiny; I have no intention of leaving it in someone else's hands. If you want first place, win it yourself. Let you win? Not if the sky falls."

"Sigh..." Mok Simwol let out a long breath. "Bukjin, you used to be so different. You've become so cold..."

Bukjin sneered. "If I hadn't, I'd probably be dead by your hand already."

Mok Simwol looked at him one last time. "No matter the circumstances, you are the only man I've ever truly held in my heart. My feelings for you were never a lie... Goodbye for now, Bukjin."

With a sorrowful, tragic expression, she turned and disappeared into the woods. Bukjin didn't try to stop her or say another word. He felt like she was a woman made of lethal poison. He tried to think of a word to describe her—he thought of 'vixen,' but then decided that was an insult to foxes. He turned back and went into his tent to try and sleep again.

A short while later, just as he was drifting off...

"Young Master, someone is here."

"Tell them to get lost!"

"Um... it's another special guest. I think you should come out..."

"You damn brat! You said that last time!"

An enraged Bukjin stormed out of the tent. "I told you to tell her to beat it! That foxy little—wait, Master? What are you doing here?"

The figure standing outside wasn't Mok Simwol. It was Jeong Sam-seok, the sword instructor and homeroom teacher of Class 9.

"Foxy?" Jeong Sam-seok asked with a curious look. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, that..." Bukjin answered honestly. "I was just cursing out a certain girl."

"Did Mok Simwol just visit you?" Jeong Sam-seok asked.

Bukjin gave him an exaggerated look of suspicion. "Whoa, were you spying on me?"

"I simply saw her passing through the woods on my way here," Jeong Sam-seok replied, looking exasperated.

"I see," Bukjin said. "So, what brings you here so late at night?"

"What do you think? Where is my sword?"

Jeong Sam-seok had lent Bukjin his precious blade for the duel earlier that day. However, Bukjin had walked off with it after the match without returning it.

"Huh?" Bukjin gave a bitter smile. "Master, I have another match tomorrow. How am I supposed to fight without a sword? Hehe, let me borrow it for just one more day. I'm your favorite student, aren't I? Surely you wouldn't want to watch your beloved disciple get beaten by that foxy Mok Simwol just because he was empty-handed?"

It wasn't that he didn't intend to return it; he just wanted to use it for the final. Bukjin knew that Jeong Sam-seok's sword was no ordinary weapon. It hadn't suffered a single nick even after clashing with Oh Sobang's Luminous Sword. Through his duel with Oh Sobang, Bukjin had realized just how vital a good weapon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was. To fully utilize his current strength, he needed a high-quality blade.

Jeong Sam-seok smiled. "I thought you were just a brat, but you have a good eye. Fine. On one condition: if you answer my question honestly, I'll let you borrow it for one more day."

Bukjin's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"I've been a teacher for years. Why would I lie to a student?"

"Hehe, alright," Bukjin said. "What are you curious about? Ask away. I'll even tell you what age my monster of an older sister stopped wetting the bed."

Jeong Sam-seok frowned. Who would be interested in that...?

"I don't care about that. What I want to know is how you, who were scraping the bottom of the barrel until now, managed to gain such monstrous strength in such a short time."