Taking On Disciples

"You said it yourself, hyung-nim! The thirsty man digs his own well! Sure, we get your teachings once a week, but I've come to realize something! You're keeping a certain distance from us when you teach."

Honestly, it was an obvious observation.

No matter how much the state paid him, why would he teach everything he knew to people who were practically strangers?

'Teaching, huh.'

Baek Jinwoo knew his own worth better than anyone alive. His encyclopedic knowledge of Battle of Summoners, his EX-grade summons, and a genius instinct on top of it all.

'The Five Emperors kids wanted the exact same thing.'

They'd pestered him day after day. They even dangled financial support, begging him to please, please take them on as disciples.

Baek Jinwoo didn't take disciples. If someone begged earnestly enough, he might drop a hint or two, but he had never once taken anyone under his wing and groomed them properly.

Why?

'Because I'm busy growing myself.'

Back then especially, he'd been obsessed with the Tower of Ordeal.

As Baek Jinwoo deliberated, Ki Jaehyeok dropped straight to his knees.

"Please allow us to train alongside you, hyung-nim!"

"If that's too much trouble, even one hour of guidance a day is fine! We'll be on our best behavior!"

Kang Jiho knelt down beside Ki Jaehyeok in perfect sync.

'What is wrong with you two?'

Hong Ari pulled a face of pure disbelief.

They'd really go this far? Maybe being young just made them that much more shameless?

'Then again.'

Ki Jaehyeok and Kang Jiho hadn't been picked for the national team off their modest rankings for nothing. That relentless effort, and the tenacity to never let an opportunity slip once it appeared, could never be underestimated.

"Or even just let us watch you train. We promise we won't get in the way."

Thud!

Oh Seon-young knelt down beside Kang Jiho as well.

"Wha—Unni?"

Hong Ari was flustered. That wasn't like her at all. The woman was like bamboo—unbending no matter who stood across from her. And that Unni was on her knees for something?

"Hoo."

Baek Jinwoo let out a long breath.

Four players, begging to be taken as his disciples. Thanks to them, Yoo Jia and his parents were alive today.

'There's nothing I can't give them.'

If anything, it was precisely because he knew his own worth so well that he could make the call. To the Baek Jinwoo of today, family was more precious than anything else in existence.

"Very well."

Baek Jinwoo ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nodded, then continued.

"In return, there will be conditions."

Teaching them was the easy part. But he wasn't about to do it for nothing.

"Conditions?"

"Name them! We'll meet every single one!"

At Baek Jinwoo's surprisingly agreeable response, the four rankers' eyes lit up.

There were exactly three conditions.

First, they would never breathe a word of anything they were taught, or anything concerning Baek Jinwoo himself. That much went without saying. Information was value in its own right, and Baek Jinwoo in particular disliked having his summons' details laid bare.

Second, Arirang, Carpe Diem, and Yubaek ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would never betray one another. He'd raised these connections carefully—what if they turned around and stabbed him in the back? Nothing in the world could be more absurd.

Third, the master-disciple relationship would be strict. He normally spoke casually with the two high schoolers, and with Hong Ari and Oh Seon-young it had been a relationship of mutual respect. But from the moment they entered as disciples? All of that was off the table. Age would be irrelevant; they would observe the etiquette between master and disciple to the letter.

And one more thing. Baek Jinwoo's training was anything but ordinary. Even if they found it unreasonable, they would follow it without question.

"Those are the three. Do you agree?"

Naturally, the contract would be sealed through the system.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"We agree, Master!"

"Those conditions are only proper, surely?"

The high schoolers had already switched from hyung-nim to Master. Truly staggering adaptability!

"I'm fine with it as well."

Hong Ari, his same-age peer, nodded too.

"Very well. I shall serve you as my Master. Feel free to work us to the bone starting this moment."

Oh Seon-young likewise met Baek Jinwoo's gaze with resolute eyes.

A slow grin spread across Baek Jinwoo's face.

'Even better.'

The rankers before him were among the finest talents South Korea had to offer. By agreeing to teach them, he had secured an eternal alliance—and Arirang, one of the Big Three, was an organization as massive as any major corporation.

'Connections.'

However exceptional Baek Jinwoo was, he couldn't amass great power alone. One man could only be in so many places at once.

'If I raise them well and put them to use.'

He might one day wield force rivaling a nation's. And that much more easily could he protect the people dear to him.

That said.

"Work you to the bone, you say."

The process was going to be absolutely brutal. Baek Jinwoo prized a player's physical stamina and mental fortitude every bit as much as his summons' training.

"I hope none of you come to regret those words."

The corners of Baek Jinwoo's mouth curled upward. At the sudden shift in the air, all four rankers flinched in spite of themselves.

From then on, the four rankers reported to Yubaek's training grounds every morning. Daily dungeon rotations at seven, assembly at eight! By the time Baek Jinwoo arrived, all four were already waiting. As for Yoo Jia, she would drop by around nine, receive an hour of instruction from Hungyo, and head back to her duties.

"Everyone here?"

At his question—

"Yes, hyu—... I mean, Master."

"We arrived thirty minutes early to warm up!"

The rankers answered with bright, eager eyes. After disbanding the day before, they had dreamed. A dream of becoming world-class rankers under Baek Jinwoo's tutelage, sweeping every dungeon and league in sight! Naturally, they had shown up with hearts aflutter, bodies and minds solemnly prepared.

"First, there are some friends I'd like you to meet."

Baek Jinwoo grinned and flicked a glance. And then—

"My Lord."

Hungyo approached.

"New members of the family, I see."

"...!"

Every pupil in the room slowly began to dilate. Hong Ari's mouth gradually fell open, and Oh Seon-young went rigid.

Good heavens. That summon. It could talk?

And that wasn't even the end of it.

"Woooooow! Can I talk to them? Hiii~ I'm Ramba!"

Ramba twirled loops through the air as she greeted them.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Pokryongi."

Pokryongi, who had tucked herself into a corner to refine her Dragon Magic, offered a polite bow.

"Wh-what is this."

"Aaaahh, the summons are talking...!"

"What sorcery is this, Master!"

Word had already spread that Baek Jinwoo's summons were unique. But never in their wildest dreams had anyone imagined they could speak.

"Say hello. Hungyo here will be managing your physical conditioning, starting today."

"...!"

Swish. Hungyo made his rounds, his gaze sweeping over the four players' physiques.

"One glance is enough—your muscle mass is substandard."

Wh-what did he just say?

Hong Ari bristled. Unlike the other players, she kept up a strict exercise regimen of her own. Hadn't her well-maintained figure and looks even landed her a few commercial deals recently!

"Hmm. You're not slathered in fat, I'll grant, but judging by your build alone, considerable work will be required. My Lord—shall we begin at once?"

"Begin."

Baek Jinwoo nodded, then slowly bared his torso. The rippling, densely packed muscle the fabric had hidden came into view.

'Wh—what the hell?'

Hong Ari's face went red.

'...Guh!'

Oh Seon-young clicked her tongue in spite of herself.

And—

"M-Master!"

"I'm in awe...!"

Ki Jaehyeok and Kang Jiho's jaws hung open. Follow Hungyo's instruction faithfully every day, and fat simply had no place to take root on your body. No matter how much you ate.

"The foundation of a player is neither explosive agility nor vast knowledge. It is mental fortitude."

Baek Jinwoo grinned.

"And what sustains that mental fortitude is stamina. The body never lies."

At that very moment—

Whoosh!

They broke into a run around the training grounds.

"What's this? Falling behind already?"

"Uh... r-right."

"Yep, coming!"

"...?"

Question marks floated up in the rankers' minds. They'd arrived loaded with expectations—summon management, growth methods, combat tips—and now they were being ordered to sprint? Was this really right?

But there was no way around it. They had signed a contract promising to obey any and every order. Violate it, and the contract shattered—and with it, their chance to learn from Baek Jinwoo vanished. In the end, grimacing through the bitterness, they had no choice but to run.

Time flowed on.

With the gang gone, peace had settled over South Korea, and Baek Jinwoo's own life was peaceful in its own right. Daily dungeon rotations, consulting for the national team, conditioning his disciples, personal training—the days passed at a brisk clip, packed tight by a meticulously crafted curriculum.

And now—

"I'm heading out."

The time had come.

"You're challenging the Tower of Ordeal?"

Yoo Jia shot to her feet. The Tower of Ordeal might be a laughing matter to Baek Jinwoo, but to ordinary people it was terror incarnate. A place where the vast majority who entered never walked out again.

"And straight through to floor twenty, no less?"

"Yes."

The preparations were complete. Pokryongi had mastered the Flame stage of her Dragon Magic, and even Hungyo had come upon a fortuitous boon of his own.

'Honestly speaking.'

Floor twenty was a stage he could clear with one hundred percent certainty even if he strolled in blindfolded and left everything to the summons. In other words, he could now bulldoze it on raw weight class alone—no strategy required.

"May I record it?"

"Of course."

They'd filmed floor ten; why not twenty? For private viewing only, of course.

"Hmm. And... it won't happen, I know, but let me ask all the same. What are the odds you don't come back?"

"..."

Baek Jinwoo gave her a look that said, why even ask. Then he answered.

"Zero percent."

The theme of floors eleven through twenty of the Tower of Ordeal was vampirism. Climb your way through one convoluted mission after another, and at the very end waits an S-grade boss: the king of all vampires, the primordial vampire, Dracul (S-grade).

True to his grade, the man was an exceptionally nasty piece of work. He resisted every element except fire, so damage barely registered on him—and if he managed to drain blood even once, he restored his entire HP bar. The monster had minions of his own, too: vampires who'd had their blood drawn straight from Dracul himself, each one strong enough to go toe-to-toe with a well-developed A-grade summon.

Shraaak!

Such a vampire was cleaved in two by a single stroke of Hungyo's blade.

"Wooooow, Hungyooo! You're way too strong!"

"Quiet, Ramba."

It was almost surreal. Normally, hunting these vampires meant assembling fifteen fire-attribute summons and hauling the whole squad along. Hungyo needed none of that.

Floor eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. They simply bored straight upward.

And floor sixteen—the stretch where ten powerful quasi-boss-grade vampires pounced all at once?

"Flame!"

FWOOOOOM!

Every last stack of Dragon Magic Pokryongi had banked detonated in unison.

'Wow, this is easy.'

And what was Baek Jinwoo doing through all of this? Nothing but ambling along with his hands clasped behind his back, breathing in the tower's air and watching the show!

'Sweet. So sweet.'

Sweet enough to rot his teeth clean through. The very stretch he'd attempted hundreds of times to clear in Battle of Summoners was being shredded to ribbons by today's Pokryongi and Hungyo.

"Jinwoo! I want those cream buns I had back then! The ones from that city—Dubai, was it?"

The ultra-luxury cream buns Jasim had specially commissioned?

"You'll get them for me, right?"

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Sure, sure. Truth be told, the one suffering most was Ramba. With her stats resetting every time the floor changed, she was swinging her staff for her very life.

"I'll just have Jia hire a chef as staff. A master baker, if we can find one."

"Kyaaaaaaaah!"

Ramba's jubilation tipped clean over into a shriek.

"At your service! I'm ashamed of myself for not swinging any fasteeeer!"

Where on earth did she learn to say things like that?

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"Let's gooooooo!"

"Flame!"

"My Lord, I have disposed of Dracul's secretary, Renfield (A-grade)."

Barely two hours had passed since they'd knocked on the door of floor eleven. And already, the final boss—Dracul (S-grade)—stood within their sights.

'Seriously.'

Fast didn't even begin to cover it.