The 3-Minute Handicap
Right next to the hotel was a dedicated training ground for players. Miura and I decided to settle things in the virtual reality training program—CF—installed underground there.
—That idiot's no match for Player Choi Kwang-hyun anyway.
The moment those words slipped out of my mouth, talking it out was off the table.
If I won, Choi Kwang-hyun would join the first assault team in his place. If he won, I'd drop to the second team.
We entered the field and faced off at a reasonable distance.
"Hmph."
The guy snorted mid-fist clench.
"So you're going to prove it with skill. I like your mindset."
What the hell is this moron saying?
Why should I prove my strength to a loser like you? I only brought you here to the training ground so I'd have a reason if I beat you senseless.
"As I said before, I'll only use basic mana control—no skills or gear. But you don't need to hold back."
He glanced at one wall of the field out of nowhere. It looked like a plain wall, but beyond it, crowds were probably watching with gleaming eyes of curiosity. Spectators glued to the external monitors, tracking every moment in the field.
"You should use everything you've got—skills, gear, whatever. Otherwise, it won't even be a proper fight."
Word of our duel had spread like wildfire. Choi Kwang-hyun and Sawajiri showed up, along with most of the hall's attendees who'd followed us to the training ground. Even Jayden Goliath from the Ender 7 was there as a spectator.
The world's best entertainment is always watching a fight. Fair enough.
[It's obvious he's putting on a lame showmanship act in front of everyone—Sung Hyun-sook finds it repulsive!]
That's why this meathead was spouting such bullshit. Beating me with a handicap would spotlight his skills to all those spectators. And I'd be the one humiliated in defeat.
"The duel has to be fair. I'll fight you with mana alone too."
"...Arrogant bastard. I'll crush that bravado right now."
[Why does every line from that guy feel so cringey?—Sung Hyun-sook curls her fingers in secondhand embarrassment!]
He must watch too many animes—that's gotta be it. I wrinkled my nose at the cringe, about to circulate my mana, when—
"I'll yield the first move."
Suddenly, he shoved his hand in his pocket and spoke.
"For three minutes, I'll focus only on defense and evasion. No counterattacks, so go wild."
"What, beating the 20th rank normally won't stroke your ego enough?"
"Half right, half wrong. Your true skill doesn't even reach world rank 20."
In other words, he wouldn't go all out against someone weaker than him. Arguing would just get more cringy lines, so I shrugged it off.
Fine... If he's begging to die by his own words, who am I to refuse?
'Not three minutes—even three hours wouldn't change the outcome.'
Miura Kei, graciously yielding first strike, brimmed with confidence. He genuinely underestimated Jae-min's capabilities.
'At best, rank 60... No, pure skill-wise, maybe scraping 70?'
Considering Jae-min had awakened less than half a year ago, rank 70 would still be prodigious. Miura conceded that much readily.
But 'How dare such a guy strut around like a mega ranker?'
No matter what, he couldn't see Jae-min matching mega rankers in their raid party. A mismatched weakling would just drag them down.
'I'll make him realize the gap now and boot him from the party.'
Hence the first-strike handicap. He wanted the spectators to see Jae-min flailing desperately to land a hit.
'Though calling this a handicap is almost embarrassing.'
He was sure he could dodge blindfolded.
As he gazed at Jae-min with smug superiority—
Kugugugu—!
Mana erupted from Jae-min's body like a raging pillar of fire.
And at the same instant, "......!?"
—Shuk!
Miura instinctively yanked his hand from his pocket. Not thought, but primal crisis instinct.
'He's dumping all his energy at once?!'
But that would leave him drained until the raid in a week—mana wouldn't recover fully.
[Look closely at that guy's face—Beast King of the Moonlit Night advises!]
"Look at his face? What—"
Following his constellation's advice, Miura stared at Jae-min's face and froze.
Jae-min looked utterly serene.
Maxing mana output should cause bloodshot eyes or nosebleeds from backlash. That serenity meant...
'That massive mana surge isn't even all he's got?'
It could only mean it was just a portion.
Impossible.
Miura swallowed dryly, his throat bobbing—
Pat—!
Jae-min vanished.
He reappeared when their distance shrank under a meter.
'Already...?!'
Movement too swift for rank 14 eyes.
Whieee—ak!
Facing Jae-min's incoming fist, Miura's mind raced.
Impossible to dodge at this range and speed. Defense only option, but...
'Wait.'
Could he block? No gear, just arms?
'No. Too much.'
Arms would shatter.
His thoughts halted there—
Kwaaaang—!
A thunderous boom exploded.
Their fists collided, shockwave shoving both back.
As echoes faded—
Tremble tremble.
Miura's arm spasmed. Jae-min smirked, shrugging.
"Weren't you sticking to defense and evasion?"
"Kuh...!"
"That was a blatant counterattack even a kid could spot."
Miura's eyes bulged with wounded pride. Just made him more fun to troll.
"Yielding first strike for three minutes? A guy who can't last three seconds—where's that baseless confidence from?"
Kwaaang—!
Unable to endure more mockery, Miura unleashed a mana torrent, charging.
Jae-min calmly gauged his power, like watching a movie, tracking every move.
'As expected. Even among S-ranks, he's different.'
Worlds apart from Paul Holt. Jae-min hadn't focused then, but Miura demanded it.
'Good he picked a fight.'
Confirmed his skill surpassed world rank 14. Mom and Rebecca's home training paid off.
Kwak—!
Just before Miura's killing blow, Jae-min snatched his wrist lightning-fast.
"......!"
Wrist gripped, yet his whole body froze. Staring at gritted-teeth Miura, Jae-min said—
"Sudden thought: How about adding one more condition?"
"What nonsense...!"
"Not nonsense—think the crowd would love it."
Jae-min's nonchalance grated on Miura. He wanted to wrench free, but his right arm wouldn't budge.
"Remember what you said? I'll mirror it. For three minutes, I'll only defend and evade. No counters."
"...What?"
"Land one effective hit in that time, you win. I'll drop from the raid entirely. But in return—"
His playful eyes turned icy.
"If I win, kneel and apologize to me."
"You...!"
"For dragging my parents into it earlier. Kneel and apologize properly in front of everyone."
Merciful enough. I'd rather kill him, but that'd complicate things. This would suffice.
"Th...!"
Miura's rage blurred his vision. Not just the demand, but his hesitation infuriated him more.
"Seems fair—why no answer? Or what."
Jae-min read him perfectly via Throw Eye: fear laced his emotions.
"No way our mighty rank 14 lacks confidence hitting a nepotism punk like me in three minutes?"
"......!"
Spot on, fueling Miura's fury.
That instant—
Kwaduduk—.
From his gripped right arm, Miura's body blackened like charred wood.
'Power changed.'
Holding it suddenly grew taxing. Jae-min leaped back, scanning with Throw Eye - Second Form.
Special Notes
* 'Beast King's Hardening' active (Strength & Agility +40% for 20 minutes)
'...40%, huh. Tricky.'
He pondered sealing it with Throw Eye - Second Form.
But shook his head.
'Sealing counts as counter.'
Miura looked pathetic reneging on defense-only promise at the first threat. No desire to stoop that low.
Then, fully hardened Miura bellowed demonically—
"Better take responsibility for your words! I'll make sure you never set foot in that gate!"
"That means you agree?"
Paaang—!
Miura exploded forward from the ground, blindingly fast.
High Sense predicts the target's attack trajectory!
The swirling wind path filled Jae-min's vision.
"Rank 14...?"
"Getting toyed by rank 20 like that?"
"The booze?"
"Nah, even drunk, Miura Kei wouldn't get shut out."
In the control room tuning CF systems, twenty-odd spectators gawked at the monitors, doubting their eyes. All elite rankers or top guild execs—even kids knew them.
Half were pure fight fans, the rest...
"...This is way off expectations."
"Miura-san, this isn't right... Japan's reputation..."
"If skills were even, fine. But rank 20's dominating completely."
...expected Jae-min thrashed by Miura. They shared his view: rankings glitched. Hoped this duel would humble the rookie—mega rankers' world wasn't for him.
But...
"...One minute gone."
"No hits in three full minutes?"
"Even a win would feel like a loss..."
The fight humiliated them. Reversed perfectly. Miura, meant to toy, was the toy; Jae-min toyed masterfully.
'Miura, what the hell...!'
Sawajiri Yuki bit her nails anxiously, eyes glued.
She'd hoped he'd crush the cocky 20th. Instead, zero hits.
Whenever it seemed to land, Jae-min twisted perfectly, deflecting.
'Like he knows Miura's every move...'
Monkey in Buddha's palm? Rank 20 treated rank 14 like one.
And rank 29 her?
'...No chance.'
If lightweighted Miura struggled, she stood none.
"Why pick a fight with us bystanders?"
Choi Kwang-hyun spoke pityingly beside her. She swallowed retort.
"If doubting Hwang Jae-min's skill, test in joint op. Why this needless humiliation?"
"Th-that... Uh..."
Mind chaos, words failed. Body shook, lips twitched.
Humiliation. Undeniable.
But not personal—national stakes.
Reps dueling meant national pride on line. One dominating? Loser's country image shattered.
Just imagining, Sawajiri's legs weakened.
"Huh. Three minutes?"
"Already?"
"No effective hits at all?"
Overheard talk stabbed her ears.
Then Jae-min's voice boomed via speakers.
> Three minutes up. Time to end it.
Miura halted mid-berserk assault—
"Dodge, Miura...!"
Sawajiri shrieked desperately, but—
Kwaaaang—!
Jae-min's fist already launched him flying.
Pssshik—.
Capsule lid rose, steam billowing.
Exiting the field, Jae-min shed sensors and stepped out.
"Hoo."
CF's post-session vertigo sucked. Shaking it off, he looked ahead.
And, "Uh..."
Couldn't hide bewilderment.
Spectators stared dumbfounded. Only Choi Kwang-hyun and Jayden smiled warmly.
[Everyone's awestruck by 'our son♡'s skills—Sung Hyun-sook crosses arms with a triumphant smile!]
'Yeah... Gotta be that.'
Third-party view: shocking duel. Unknown rookie (sub-20?) casually flattens rank 14 mega ranker.
So,
"Along with Miura-san, some here doubt my capabilities."
Time to speak up.
"My answer to them: the duel you just witnessed."
Silence. Save Choi and Jayden's chuckles—dead quiet.
Then eyes met Sawajiri's.
—Flinch.
She averted first, sweating coldly.
'No one can object now.'
Proved strength—meaningful duel.
But what Jae-min truly wanted wasn't proof.
Something to see.
Pssshik—.
Miura's capsule opened; he struggled upright.
"Ugh, uuu..."
Groaning from aftereffects, Jae-min said coldly,
"Come out."
"......"
Miura's shoulders jerked visibly.
He'd failed to land a hit in three minutes—consequence dawned.
"...Damn it."
Muttering Japanese curses, he emerged.
Jae-min perched on his capsule edge, leg crossed, face emotionless as he spat—
"Kneel. Beg."
"......"
"You promised. Right?"
Miura's world darkened. He scanned surroundings.
Kneel and apologize before this crowd?
Eyes pleaded Sawajiri—
"......"
She shook head somberly: no help.
Miura's heart sank. Lips trembled standing, then—
Step.
Slow steps toward Jae-min. Crowd parted, tense for spectacle.
"I'd rather die than kneel!"
Until Miura charged murderously—
"......?!"
But inexplicably, Miura froze mid-charge.
Literally. Motion, expression, hair, clothes—all halted.
Like time stopped.
'Time Discrepancy...?'
Braced for ambush, Jae-min startled.
Time Discrepancy: stops or warps target's time. Cheat skill incarnate.
One player worldwide wielded time skills.
"Rush a hundred times—you still lose."
Jayden Goliath stepped forward, eyeing trapped Miura disdainfully.
"You can't beat that man."