Chapter 29
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: BSS Golden Sun Position? (5)
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Clang!
'He's definitely strong.'
They say that when true experts clash for the first time, they can gauge each other's skills right away.
I wasn't quite at that level yet, but I could roughly size up Tatakum's abilities.
Tatakum :: The youngest candidate for great warrior of the Tatara Tribe. Gains an overwhelming advantage the longer battles drag on through spirit power, totem-enhanced physical strengthening, and amplified robust vitality.
This wasn't just a rough guess—it was a judgment based on encyclopedia-level info, so the margin of error was tiny.
'The spirit power seems to come from those tattoos on his body...'
Judging by how he didn't use any weapons, the totem was probably something he summoned.
'Let's test the basics first.'
Knowing something is strong and experiencing it firsthand are worlds apart, so I pretended to be on the defensive.
I'd let myself get pushed back on purpose when attacked, or if he tried smashing through my guard, I'd raise my arm early to minimize damage before his fist even connected.
I kept up the act of getting one-sidedly beaten, and around then, Tatakum seemed ready to end it—he gathered energy into his fist.
"Taram!"
A straight punch shouted out with the name of the Tatara Tribe's guardian deity.
It screamed finishing blow, a signal that no more back-and-forth would happen, so I responded in kind.
'Time for Ferocious Tiger's power.'
Mountain Lord style didn't dodge clashes of power—it wasn't suited for deflecting attacks or counters.
Plus, with its overwhelming momentum to dominate surroundings, Ferocious Tiger's power was perfect for subtly hunting without drawing attention.
'Heaven and Earth Shaker.'
Despite the grandiose name, it was a technique that shook the opponent's brain to induce confusion.
Swish.
My limp, fluttering hand flashed like lightning and struck Tatakum's jaw.
Thud.
Not a hard hit—just precise enough to rattle his brain.
"Huh?"
Tatakum couldn't react. He stared up at me with a dazed look, not even grasping how he'd been hit.
Then, to properly show him the gap, I insulted his tribe, and Tatakum charged at me again.
And once more, Heaven and Earth Shaker nailed his jaw.
"If you don't get up by the count of five, I'll drag you up? F... fou..."
'Why's he got such a dumb look on his face.'
Just two hits like that, and he's like this? What am I supposed to do?
Tatakum lay sprawled on the ground, blankly staring at me.
"Th... tw..."
I needed more exchanges so he'd bone-deep feel the skill gap, but collapsing like this already was a problem.
If he passed out without a real hit, he might later claim it was luck and make excuses.
Even if he accepted the result outwardly, a lackey who didn't follow from the heart could stab me in the back later.
"...I can't believe you're the wide world."
"Oh, you can get up? Good boy."
Whether due to my worries or not, Tatakum sprang to his feet.
This time, he didn't impulsively lunge right away—he even assumed a proper stance.
"Tatakum of the Tatara Tribe shall experience the world."
What the hell is he saying?
I wanted to call bullshit, but his expression and demeanor were too serious for words.
"I shall go all out."
Kwaaaaang!
The power once concentrated in his fist now gathered across his whole body, compressing and endlessly amplifying.
His dark skin flushed reddish, muscles bulging vividly—he looked like a general guarding the gates of hell.
'No... not quite.'
On second look, he wasn't a hell general. He was a club rolling abandoned without an owner.
Depending on how you used it, it could be a shield to block attacks—or the weapon to smash that shield.
"Hup!"
Bam!
Tatakum charged straight at me with speed impossible for his bulk.
His previous punch had power only in the fist; now his entire body brimmed with it—his whole form was a weapon.
"Show me the world!"
I had no clue what nonsense he was spouting, but since he asked to see it, I'd grant his wish.
"Attacks that miss are meaningless."
Whoosh!
Tatakum's strike grazed past me by a paper's thickness, hitting empty air.
Even missing, the wind it stirred showed the raw power packed in.
Thud.
With that much force, missing exposed huge openings.
Tatakum knew it too and tried twisting away in a panic, but my hand was already at his throat.
With his neck gripped, I pressed my other hand to his abdomen—a courtesy for his sincerity.
'Gut Ripper.'
And with that courtesy...
"Spar over! Winner: Kim Geon-ho!"
I gained a club.
Flicker.
'Total defeat.'
Struck by Kim Geon-ho's attack and blacking out, Tatakum admitted his loss the moment he opened his eyes.
'That wasn't even a proper hand technique.'
At the end, gripped by the throat, Tatakum felt the terror of death for the first time in his life.
A primal premonition of being hunted and devoured.
Kim Geon-ho's outstretched arm was death in the form of a hand—a blade to dismantle corpses.
The agony of organs shredded, the shock of skin torn away, the disorienting shake that shattered reason.
That he could naturally open his eyes hours later was pure mercy from Kim Geon-ho.
'...If that had been a blade.'
He wouldn't have woken up.
"Hey, you up?"
As Tatakum mulled this, Kim Geon-ho popped up.
"You gonna accept the win-loss gracefully? Don't pull crap like 'I didn't use my totem' or 'that wasn't my real power' and skip your duty."
"Tatakum is not that kind of man. I accept."
What use was summoning spirits when he hadn't even landed a proper hit? What meaning in a totem?
He'd given max effort in that situation and lost completely. Tatakum acknowledged it.
"Tatakum, from today, enters your service and gives all."
With head bowed, pledging as Kim Geon-ho's subordinate per their bet—that was the moment.
"Hey! You! You! You!"
A few days after team assignments were set.
"Geon-ho, my legs hurt so much... Can we rest there a bit before going?"
"You crazy bitch, spouting nonsense again? Forgot last time you almost made us late?"
"No, that's 'cause Geon-ho... wouldn't let me go..."
"Bullshit has limits."
The Marren Adoration Society cadets could no longer tolerate Kim Geon-ho's verbal abuse toward Marren.
They'd planned to wait for the bet results, but now teamed with her, imagining Marren's heartbreak was impossible.
"Let's save her!"
"For Marren!"
So they stepped up. To uphold justice, to free Marren from that vile wastrel!
Watching top-scorer Marren paired with bottom-feeder wastrel had pushed their patience to the brink.
"Enough."
But their heroism slammed into harsh reality.
"Ta... Tatakum...?"
"Don't bother Kim Geon-ho."
Gulp.
The massive frame's aura and stern warning made the Marren fans swallow hard.
Like fake anger-management cases cured instantly by real power.
One word from Tatakum restored their reason like a miracle drug.
"St... still, no matter what... even if teammates, th... this isn't right...!"
But sometimes numbers beat fear.
Tatakum was alone; they numbered over five—enough for verbal resistance.
Though their voices shook and stuttered uncontrollably.
"Not because teammates. Just don't bother Kim Geon-ho."
Judging a lesson needed, Tatakum pulled out the steel pipe he'd prepped per Kim Geon-ho's orders.
Crunch!
The thick pipe crumpled slowly in his palm like in a press.
Squish!
In a blink, the long pipe shrank to acorn size—like magic.
Witnessing it live, the Marren fans went sheet-white.
Gulp!
Terror made jaws quiver, saliva sliding down throats.
They were prodigies too—not impossible? Wrong.
But pure physical strength alone? They'd shake their heads.
'H... how... even Tatakum...!'
Not just tormenting Marren and binding her escape, but commanding Tatakum like a limb.
Unable to accept it, the Marren fans fled pretending urgent business.
"S... suddenly got an appointment... gotta go!"
"But next time, no way!"
A setup with a girl and underlings was beyond BSS Golden Sun—it screamed something bigger.
'Thought he was just a wastrel, but wastrel boss? Gang leader or what!'
The moment Kim Geon-ho's position upgraded, his infamy skyrocketed.
And such rumors piled up, reaching his fiancée Heila.
"...Naughty playboy."
They reached Airi's ears too, of course.