Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Ryu Runshin's Challenge
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While Darmosa muttered to himself, Roze fiddled with the pressure cooker with a disappointed look on her face.
"If we do it again, more might come out... Can we try one more time?"
"...Huh? No. It'd be a bit of a nuisance here."
"Oh, I see."
Roze glanced around and nodded.
The cadets who'd been hit by the steam were pulling faces.
Our table would have been a mess too if Sahim hadn't reacted.
"Looks fun. I wanna try it."
But then Merdi suddenly lit up.
Her eyes were full of mischief—she was clearly up to something.
Barton and I desperately stopped Roze from handing over the pressure cooker so innocently, barely nipping it in the bud.
"Hmm—."
Thanks to that, the rest of mealtime was a little awkward.
From Merdi flicking electric sparks threateningly with her fingers while shooting dissatisfied glares, to the Central Superhuman Unit's leader, who seemed lost for words in shock.
Fortunately, Darmosa snapped out of it soon enough.
"You're even more impressive than the reports said. You there, the redhead. Roze, right?"
"Yes!"
"So all of you are around her level?"
I flinched.
My body trembled for a split second.
What Darmosa had just said was like stepping on a landmine.
They kept up friendly relations because, as he'd put it, they were all on similar levels.
But deep down, each harbored the belief that they were the best—or destined to become the best.
"The next Central Superhuman Unit leader position is in good hands. One of you can take it."
The Central Superhuman Unit leader was so caught up in visions of a bright future that he missed the mood entirely.
'What now?'
An inexplicable tension rippled among the other four, excluding me.
Not just Merdi, who looked outright annoyed, but Roze, quietly emanating hostility.
Sahim had switched to training mode, and Barton seemed even colder than usual.
If he'd done it on purpose, I'd have to give him credit.
With a single remark, Darmosa had ignited their competitive spirits.
"Well, we've finished eating, so shall we call it?"
"What about a spar with me?"
"It's already late. Classes are over. From now on, it's my rest time."
"......Ugh."
Roze wore a seriously conflicted expression.
She was clearly recalling what Merdi had said before—something about landing one hit and running.
But Darmosa's face showed no give as he spoke to her again.
"Aim for tomorrow, miss. I'm planning a special class while I'm here at the academy anyway."
"So you'll fight me tomorrow?"
"...Sure, I'll make some time."
"Hehe."
We wrapped up.
Buoyed by the promise of a match tomorrow, Roze got dragged off to the training room by Merdi, whose complaints had reached their limit.
Barton accepted Sahim's rare sparring invitation and headed out too.
Left behind were me and Darmosa.
"Got nothing to do?"
"It's the day I got a medal. I deserve at least one day off."
"Wanna watch some programs with me? It's about time."
"Sure."
We decided to hang out for the day.
Darmosa must've liked the food—he grabbed two heaping plates.
I picked a bottle of booze along with some snacks.
'This much is...'
Beer from some no-name brand.
Come to think of it, I hadn't touched smokes or booze since coming to this world.
On the day I'd earned a medal for protecting humanity's dreams and hopes, a little reward like this should be fine.
"What're you doing? Hurry up."
"Coming."
"Huh? Booze? You drink too?"
"A little, yeah. Though that's from my old life..."
Darmosa seemed to mull over my answer for a moment before grabbing a different bottle.
"Not that. Let's get this instead. What you picked tastes like nothing. To a superhuman, it's basically water."
"Oh yeah?"
That tracked with the setting.
Superhumans hardly got drunk no matter how strong the booze.
Their detoxification was top-tier.
'Well, if we're drinking...'
I grabbed two more bottles of what Darmosa picked.
Today was a rare proper day off.
*
"Ugh..."
I woke up.
First hangover since taking over Lemon's body.
The booze Darmosa chose was as strong as it was tasty.
'What the hell did they put in this?'
It wasn't just the alcohol content—superhumans wouldn't pass out from that. Must be some special ingredient.
I sat up and looked around.
Despite all the drinking and chatting, it wasn't too messy.
Just the game console we'd pulled out at the end and some scattered bottles?
The real eyesore was Darmosa, sprawled out with his stuffy formalwear half-undone, one leg slung over the sofa back.
'Gotta go...'
Time had already flown by.
I said goodbye to Darmosa, who showed no signs of waking, and left the room.
Hanging out and ending up on brotherly terms with him—calling each other "hyung" and "dongsaeng"—was a win.
'How old's the age gap?'
Nearly a hundred years.
Old enough to call him an ancestor.
But in a world basically like fantasy, who cares.
I headed back to the dorm, changed out of the formalwear, handled morning duties.
After breakfast, I made my way to the academy's largest training hall for Darmosa's specially arranged joint superability class.
'First time here.'
It was massive, as the name implied.
Used for new weapon demos or as a shelter for cadets in emergencies—famous for permits only dropping on days like today.
Plenty of cadets were already inside.
Some in one corner had even started sparring.
Up on the platform were the VIPs from yesterday.
Orlando Monarch, who'd spotted me entering, gave a nod of recognition.
'That guy...'
The one with Orlando Monarch.
I remembered him clearly.
Naphthal Monarch.
Elder twin half-brother to Lemon, this body's original owner—same mother, different fathers.
Nothing good in Lemon's memories about him.
A total scumbag with sky-high self-esteem and an obsession with the family.
Add in his conviction that the next family head spot was his by right, and you had the picture.
'Why send him to meet me?'
Naphthal treated Leonard Monarch like he didn't exist.
Their relationship wasn't bad or good—it just didn't exist.
So why had the Monarch family sent him here, of all times? When they should be cozying up.
Whatever. Since he was here, I'd at least show my face.
I started toward them.
"Leonard?"
But then.
A sudden attack came from behind.
A spear thrust.
If I hadn't dodged with quick reflexes, it would've pierced my gut.
I spun around to see a familiar face—one I'd crossed paths with a few times.
"Nice dodge."
"...What the hell?"
The smirking guy's name was Ryu Runshin.
Even in this space age, he clung to outdated Han supremacist crap, rejecting all other races. A total idiot.
One of the academy's top troublemakers, stacked with warnings.
Ever since I got famous, he'd been openly picking fights.
"Just. Something annoying caught my eye. Thought it was a fly."
Still, he wasn't a pushover.
The Ryu family's signature spear arts and martial techniques were renowned, and Runshin was their top talent.
The spear he held now was a mechanical spear optimized for those arts.
"Your eyes must be off. Or maybe you're just too green to handle your own weapon."
"Look at this—trash blood from a fallen house talking big. Counting on your friends? Too bad. No one's around right now."
This guy came prepared.
Sure, it was for class, so being in the training hall gave him cover.
At least he hadn't brought his gang. Small mercies.
'What to do?'
Runshin twitched his spear.
Blatant provocation.
But my level was definitely below his.
With that mechanical spear to boot, it'd be no surprise if he put a hole in me anytime.
So I made a bold call.
'Bail.'
Decision swift, movement faster.
I kicked off the ground.
My body launched backward like a spring.
But Runshin's reaction was just as quick.
"Where!"
He thrust from standstill.
The spear's interlocking sawblade released with the force, shaft spinning and extending with a whirr.
Clang!
Amid the racket, I flipped my body to barely evade the stab.
'Fast.'
Roze had warned me.
Spears were among the most dangerous weapons.
Especially against a master who knew thrusting—the best answer was to run.
Runshin fit the bill.
"Rats like you!"
His forward thrust was flawless, no wasted motion.
Each stab made my hairs stand on end.
Couldn't track the path.
A distant point expanded in an instant, aiming to skewer me.
If not for my heightened senses from the Claw trait, I'd be done already.
"Where'd you get the nerve after taking a beating? I flat-out refused a duel. Ease up if you don't want warnings."
"The Ryu family never abandons a started event midway!"
Runshin cranked the mechanical spear's output instead.
The mounted energy core glowed brilliantly, adding fierce thrust to every motion.
"Urk!"
Fast.
The spear moved even quicker.
In a blink, a dozen thrusts targeted vitals.
No room to breathe—I dodged desperately.
'...This?'
Dodging was all I could do, but it was surprisingly manageable.
I'd figured I'd have to take a few hits to end it, but so far, just some grazes.
Why?
'Deep Lungs'
The tusked boar's trait enabled long breath-holds, sustaining my body.
The exchange dragged on.
I evaded spear strikes in a trance, over and over.
By now, cadets and VIPs had circled us, forming a wall of spectators.
"Huff! You...!"
Runshin's face hardened.
The initial disdain was long gone.
And with the mechanical spear yielding no results, he had to be fuming.
'Can't push further. Too risky.'
But I wasn't comfy either.
I'd held my own, but this was my limit.
With Runshin getting sloppier, one slip could mean serious injury.
'Now!'
Seizing a gap as his offense lagged from breathlessness, I widened the distance as much as possible.
Planning to duck behind the gathered onlookers.
But Runshin's character was even worse than he looked.
Sensing he'd lose me, he maxed the energy core and hurled the mechanical spear.
"......!"
No time for words.
Feeling it fly, I turned and braced.
Clenching both elbows and right knee together, I struck the spearhead hard as it closed in.
"Urk!"
Not enough power.
I'd blunted its momentum some, but the core's thrust relaunched it.
The problem wasn't me.
The deflected spear veered toward the VIPs behind.
Most were civilians—a disaster waiting to happen.
"Enough."
Luckily, a savior stopped the reckless rampage.
As the frontmost VIP squeezed his eyes shut, green aura bloomed, halting the spear.
Darmosa.
Orlando Monarch stood right beside him.
"Doing something dangerous, young friend."
"......Yeah."
The mechanical spear's energy core went dead in Darmosa's grip.
He grabbed the shaft and approached Runshin.
"Can't even handle your own weapon properly—how do you expect to inherit the Ryu name?"
No different from what I'd said earlier.
But this time, Runshin had no comeback.
He just took the proffered spear and clamped his mouth shut.
"I'll let this slide, so how about we wrap it here? Or do I need to make it unpleasant myself?"
"......No need."
Runshin shook his head.
Then he approached me.
"I apologize for my excessive conduct."
Whatever he felt inside, his tone was polite.
But the whisper that followed wasn't.