Chapter 78: I Hereby Dub It the Sunrise Cut (1)
Chapter 78: I Hereby Dub It the Sunrise Cut (1)
Right. I figured it would be something like this.
Kids like these always react exactly the same way.
It was a familiar routine, but still...
At my age, getting into such a predictable scuffle with these brats...
Patrick let out a long sigh.
Seeing Patrick’s reaction, Jordic Panola furrowed his brow and spoke.
"Answer me. Are you not Patrick Schneider?"
"Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Spot on. And you, Senior, must be the son of Marquis Panola, right?"
Jordic Panola’s eyebrows twitched at Patrick’s casual remark.
He doesn't even look surprised. Did he follow me knowing who I was?
"You’re quick on the uptake."
"Heh heh. That’s just one of my many virtues."
"……."
Jordic stared at Patrick, who seemed genuinely proud of himself.
"Then do you also know why I’m here?"
"To avenge your pathetic younger brother?"
"Well, something like that."
Jordic naturally moved to face Patrick.
The surrounding area was already filled with the sounds of sparring; the professor wouldn't be able to hear their conversation.
No, actually, it wouldn't matter even if he did.
The professor is probably in on it too.
Before class, Patrick had felt a subtle hostility directed at him from the professor.
Furthermore, the way the man tried to act nonchalant even when Patrick was being blatantly defiant and provocative already signaled that 'something was going to happen.'
And this was the result.
Having them spar during class to legally beat him down?
If it happened during a lesson, any 'accident' could be brushed off as just that—an accident.
Moreover, he couldn't run away or refuse, so he was truly Surrounded by Enemies.
Having grasped the entire situation, Patrick thought to himself:
That’s a good method. I should use that next time.
This was the man who had been hailed as a 'Great Hero' in his past life.
Third-years and first-years, or second-years and first-years, were scattered about the grounds, continuing their sparring sessions. In the midst of it all, Patrick and Jordic faced each other.
There was nothing strange about it.
This was, after all, a class dedicated to guided sparring between seniors and juniors.
The only difference was the extraordinary killing intent swirling between Patrick and Jordic.
Or rather, to be precise, it was the killing intent being unilaterally radiated by one side.
"Don't be so scared. It's still a class; it's not like I'm going to kill you, right?"
"Ha... Hahaha..."
"Just think of it as taking responsibility for what you did. If I break a few of your limbs, maybe my father's anger will subside a bit."
"Master, are you watching? This is how I’m living. You see? This is my life now."
Patrick muttered pitifully toward the sky, a sigh escaping him involuntarily.
Who was he?
He was the Radiant Dragon Hero, Jincheon.
He was a powerhouse among powerhouses, a man who had recorded consecutive victories in a hundred duels against the most prominent leaders of the Martial World and had claimed the heads of countless Unorthodox Faction villains, earning him the title of the Orthodox Faction's greatest master.
Usually, when people faced Jincheon with a sword in hand, they did so with fear, terror, and a faint sense of reverence.
But that was in his past life...
To think I’d live long enough to be treated like a pitiable wretch by a brat like this. Oh, what sins did I commit in my past life to deserve this?
Well, he had committed a mountain of sins in his past life.
Ah... Hmm...
It seemed his conscience was pricked, if only slightly.
Regardless, from Patrick's perspective, how did Jordic look as he stared down at him with such confidence, his face practically screaming 'It’s time for your punishment'?
[Woof! Woof woof!]
Gonna bite you!
I'm really gonna bite you hard with my sharp teeth and make it hurt! Surrender now if you're scared!
I'm a mighty puppy who's been alive for a whole day! Yeah!
"……."
That was roughly how he looked.
Unaware of this, Jordic misinterpreted Patrick’s despairing expression and spoke.
"Now, draw your sword. I'll let you have the first few moves."
"Sure, sure. Whatever you say."
"If you even manage to cut a single strand of my hair, I might consider letting the matter with my brother slide."
Patrick flinched for a moment.
"Oh, really? So that's all it takes?"
"Ho? Do you see a glimmer of hope? However..."
A vivid Aura flared up from Jordic’s sword.
Unlike his brother’s, the Aura clearly enveloped the blade, proving that he had reached the peak of the 3-Star Level.
"I heard you beat my brother, though I don't know what trickery you used. You must be quite confident in your skills."
"……."
"But I am different from my brother. So..."
"Yeah, yeah, cut the chatter."
Patrick cracked his neck from side to side and rotated his waist and limbs to warm up.
Then, as if to confirm one last time, he asked:
"You said if I cut your hair, we're even, right? You definitely said that."
"I did say..."
"Then that's enough. Alright, here I come."
"...Come!"
Jordic centered his sword and took a stance.
Once a battle began, negligence was forbidden.
A lion gives its all even when hunting a rabbit. Therefore, once the sword is drawn...
Huh?
Patrick vanished from Jordic’s sight.
He had clearly been right in front of him, but he disappeared like a ghost.
And then, he felt it...
Whooooosh!
"Ugh..."
It felt as if a sudden gale had brushed past his body.
The wind was so fierce it made him stagger, nearly breaking his stance. And then...
"Alright, finished."
Patrick’s voice came from behind him.
Jordic hurriedly spun around to look at Patrick.
"Kh..."
He was fast. Jordic hadn't even sensed when he had moved behind him. However...
"Hah!"
Getting behind someone wasn't the end. As long as he hadn't followed up with an attack, the match was still—
Whack!
"Argh..."
With a sharp pain in the crown of his head, Jordic slumped down. Patrick looked at the fallen Jordic and spoke.
"I said it's over. Do you not understand plain English?"
"Ugh... What do you mean? This... Huh?"
Jordic’s expression suddenly froze.
His hand, which had reflexively gone to the pain on his head, felt something smooth.
It was strange. Why was his head so smooth?
Where was the thick blonde hair he had inherited from his father? It was just smooth...
"Smooth!"
And then he saw it. The golden strands of hair fluttering down to the ground beneath him.
Patrick nodded in satisfaction.
"I hereby dub this hairstyle the Sunrise Cut."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
A wretched scream echoed through the training grounds.
* * *
"Man... I’ve really become a saint."
Patrick felt proud of himself.
And why wouldn't he?
He hadn't beaten the newborn pup who bared its teeth at him to within an inch of his life, nor had he sliced his throat, nor had he hacked his body into hundreds of pieces.
He had simply, painlessly... well, he did smack him on the noggin once, but that couldn't be helped.
Anyway, he had cleanly cut off only the hair without causing any pain.
He left the hair on the sides out of pity and only cleared out the top, resolving the incident peacefully.
"Ah, is this what Master used to call 'mercy' until my ears bled? Seeing how proud I feel, it must be, right?"
No. It’s not.
It’s really not, you bastard.
"Man, I actually showed mercy. I never did that once in my past life."
And he was supposed to be a member of the Orthodox Faction and a Great Hero.
"The Shaolin monks said you have to show mercy to go to Paradise. Does this mean I’ll go to Paradise when I die this time?"
That’s impossible.
No matter where it is, the moment you arrive, that place will become Hell.
Regardless, looking only at the result, it was truly a miraculous turn of events—things had been settled quite moderately.
After all, Patrick hadn't thrashed his opponent, nor had he left him half-dead, nor had he finished him off.
Of course, Jordic, the one whose hair had been cut, had foamed at the mouth and charged at Patrick to kill him the moment he realized the state of his scalp.
[I'll kill you! I'll kill this bastard!]
[Hey, it suits you, so why the fuss?]
[Aaaaaaaargh!]
[Oh? Your face is getting so red, it really looks like a scene from a sunrise.]
[Guh... Argh...]
In the end, Jordic clutched the back of his neck, foamed at the mouth, and collapsed.
Watching Jordic being carried off to the infirmary by his friends, Patrick spoke to those around him.
[Doesn't he look better than before?]
Is this guy even human?
It was likely no coincidence that the first, second, and third-years all shared the same thought.
"Anyway, he must have seen the difference in our skills. If that thing in his skull called a brain is functioning properly, he won't challenge me again."
That was what Patrick thought.
In truth, making the ridiculous hairstyle wasn't the only point.
Being able to do that to an opponent's head in a single move during a spar was only possible because of the overwhelming gap in skill between Patrick and Jordic.
Even if Jordic’s blood was boiling at that moment...
"Pfft! It’s still funny when I think about it."
His personality is just...
Anyway, once he regained his senses and thought about it calmly after his blood cooled, he would realize the gap between him and Patrick.
With such a clear difference in strength, who would dare challenge him again? Right?
As Patrick was chuckling to himself while recalling yesterday's events, April approached him.
"Young Master. A letter has arrived."
"A letter? From whom?"
"It’s from someone named Jordic Panola."
"...And the purpose?"
"It says it's a Challenge Letter."
"...Huh."
The kid still hasn't learned his lesson?
What on earth am I going to do with him?