Chapter 11
Han Yaseong threw out a casual excuse.
"Just loosening up a bit. I was imitating something from a martial arts movie."
"No way. You're an absolute pro. I have tons of friends who work out, but none of them kick like that. You're totally a black belt, right? Taekwondo? Hapkido? Or maybe Chinese kung fu?"
"Nah, nothing like that. Just messing around on my own. Ah, I gotta head out. I left some bait out for fishing."
Han Yaseong bolted. He didn't want to keep talking about it.
"Hey, wait—"
Choi Yujin called after him as he vanished around the corner, but it was no use. Not knowing his name didn't help either.
"Who was that guy?"
Choi Yujin tapped her chin, deep in thought. She vaguely remembered his face but couldn't recall the name. She didn't even know most of the second-years' names, let alone the first-years'. And since this was his first club outing this year, everyone except her third-year peers felt unfamiliar.
Choi Yujin racked her brain trying to remember the fleeing freshman boy's name but gave up and stared at the kick marks on the ground instead.
"Whoa, that's some serious skill. His foot was off the ground the whole time."
It was like a scene straight out of an old Chinese kung fu flick.
Choi Yujin had always liked athletic guys. Not the studious bookworm types, but ones who were good at sports or fighting.
So how could she not be interested in Han Yaseong? He'd seemed like a total nerd at first, but that kick changed everything. A hidden powerhouse.
She'd been so shocked seeing him kick like that while peeing in the woods. That's why she'd stayed crouched even after finishing, just watching. A chill breeze through her slit finally snapped her out of it, reminding her she was mid-pee. She wiped, stood, and wandered over like something was drawing her in.
Now, grinning at the chaotic kick marks scattered across the dirt, Choi Yujin murmured to herself.
"A carnivore just joined our herbivore Mystery Club."
And a hidden master at that. A fresh-faced first-year guy, too. Something innocently thrilling about it. With that thought, she dashed back toward the tents.
"I'm telling you, that guy's kicks were insane."
"For real?"
The girls' tent buzzed with endless chatter. Han Yaseong hadn't seen that coming. Choi Yujin spilling it to everyone. He'd figured escaping that moment was enough, but nope—she'd spread it far and wide. He'd underestimated women's loose lips and gossip.
Now everyone knew.
"You really that good at kicks?"
Even his male peers asked, wide-eyed with surprise.
Han Yaseong sighed. He should've begged Choi Yujin to keep it secret... Running away was starting to feel like a mistake.
"Yaseong! Show us a kick, Yaseong!"
Choi Yujin, who'd gotten his name from Euna, shouted with a grin.
Han Yaseong, flustered, just stared off elsewhere.
Choi Yujin kept calling "Yaseong! Yaseong!" until she suddenly burst out laughing.
"Hehe, 'Yaseong' is such a hilarious name. Yaseong... But those kicks are totally beastly. Looks like a herbivore, though."
She went on bragging like he was her prize, and soon all the girls and guys were staring at Han Yaseong. A silent pressure to perform, like do a kick for real.
No choice—he'd do a couple simple ones.
"Uh, it's just a hobby. Nothing that big a deal."
"Come on, show us!"
Everyone watched with eager eyes.
Han Yaseong obliged with a basic kick. Thwack, thwack—his body tilted slightly left as his right foot snapped through the air twice in succession. Simple motion, simple kick.
But that simplicity was flawless enough to steal everyone's gaze.
"Whoa, that's awesome!"
One of his male peers let out a gasp of admiration. No sloppy amateur stuff. It had form—on par with a real martial artist's kick. Hell, you'd believe it was one. Polished, precise perfection.
No one there knew martial arts, but they had eyes. They could tell instantly: Han Yaseong's kick was on another level from what average kids did. Like a pro fighter's championship strike.
Everyone stared in shock, especially the girls—their reactions hit harder. Their bodies reacted before their minds could catch up. A twitch deep inside.
Choi Yujin felt it worst. Watching that kick again, her slit throbbed for a split second. A trickle of wetness seeped out.
She'd always gotten turned on by fights or martial arts. It excited her. That's why her boyfriends were always athletes or rough beast-types who could throw down. Bookish weaklings? No thanks—too frail.
But Han Yaseong, who looked like the ultimate wimp, pulling off that insane kick? Total plot twist. Her pussy couldn't help but pulse.
The other girls felt it too, each to varying degrees. His first-year female peers kept gasping "Oh my god," jaws dropped. The second-year girls gaped in surprise. Even Jang Euna, the third-year club president, was genuinely stunned.
Han Yaseong, the first-year. Quiet, kinda listless freshman guy. Never crossed anyone's mind as athletic. Sure, he'd slimmed down lately from some workouts, but that's it. The perfect herbivore mascot for the Mystery Club.
Then he drops a movie-level kick, and ripples spread through everyone's hearts. Cool, they thought. The plain view of him as just a club junior flipped instantly to genuine admiration.
And that sparked memories of last night.
He was the one who carried us to the tents...
Now they remembered: Han Yaseong personally scooping them up, laying them gently inside. So effortless. Raw strength. They'd been drunk and hazy, but instinct knew. He hadn't strained at all.
Putting it all together, he seemed even more reliable. Despite that scrawny frame.
"Dude, you're seriously impressive. What do you train in?"
His peers and the senior guys were floored too—not jealousy, pure respect. If there'd been a jock around, they'd trash-talk to downplay it. But these guys? All herbivores. No envy here. They were hyped like fan club members, begging for more.
"Got anything else? Like aerial kicks?"
The guys swarmed, urging him to try this and that. Han Yaseong hated it but couldn't refuse. First time showing off in front of dudes.
Screw it, he thought, and delivered. High jumping kicks, spinning back kicks, 360-degree spins, double-foot aerials mid-leap, continuous twirling like a top—straight out of a wuxia flick. The guys went wild, clapping and cheering; the girls in the tents whooped and hollered.
Hearing and seeing that fired Han Yaseong up too. First time for cheers like this. First time in the spotlight.
Right then, Han Yaseong became a star. Born and raised in obscurity, now basking in adulation. Temporary, sure, but he got a taste of a celebrity's thrill amid roaring fans.
That day, he had an incredible experience. A vivid, pulsing sense of being alive among people, electrifying his veins.
"Like this?"
The guys lined up, trying kicks themselves, all hyped after his demo. Like kids mimicking wrestling moves from TV.
Luckily, the girls gave it a half-hearted shot—"Hyah!"—then quit. Fun to watch, not to do.
The dudes kept at it clumsily, more for the buzz than real effort. Ten minutes in, they tapped out, wiped.
"You're unreal. How long you been at it? Can't be just one or two years."
Even prepping lunch, the talk stayed on Han Yaseong's kicks. Especially the first-year guys grilling him.
"Just whenever. When I got bored."
"Since you were a kid?"
"Yeah."
Couldn't say a year in that other world, so he owned up to childhood training.
"You don't even look athletic. Should've joined the club sports day. We'd have won something."
A third-year guy looked genuinely bummed. He'd heard later: Mystery Club went 0-for-5 at the school intramurals. Swept, mostly dead last. Embarrassing. But that was their tradition—book nerds who sucked at anything physical.