I Won't Become Like Those Old Men
Lee Se-ah stepped outside and immediately pulled out her phone.
Lee Se-ah’s lips trembled.
Because I came to work on the weekend, that’s why!
“Black says he’s moving out of the safe house.”
Director: “Moving out? What do you mean? Where to? Don’t tell me he’s going to disappear.”
“No—he wants to relocate to the faculty dormitories.”
Director: “The faculty dorms? Why leave a spacious house for that?”
Lee Se-ah reported everything that had happened in the training hall that morning.
“It seems he intends to keep those five close and start working them in earnest.”
Director: “Hmm.”
Whatever Black’s reasons for selecting and teaching students, the nation had nothing to lose. The real problem was…
Director: “We can’t just leave that man alone at the Academy twenty-four hours a day.”
“But we have no grounds to stop him if that’s what he wants, do we?”
Director: “True. Which means someone will have to stick to him like glue, doesn’t it?”
“……!”
Cold sweat ran down Lee Se-ah’s spine. She knew exactly who that “someone” was.
Not only weekend duty—now I can’t even go home?
Director: “Agent Lee. If we register you as a professor’s secretary, you’ll get one of the official residences attached to the faculty dorms.”
D-Director?
Director: “I’m sorry. I know full well how harsh this is for a brand-new recruit.”
If you know, then don’t do this!
Director: “But across the entire special operations team, you’re the only one who can actually hold a conversation with Black. Hello? Agent Lee? Is this call still connected? Why aren’t you answering?”
“…I’m listening.”
Director: “Special allowance. Three hundred percent on top of your current salary.”
You think I’m doing this for the money?
In truth, she already knew. She was the only person on the special operations team who could handle this. And it was a mission that carried real purpose.
I signed up knowing it would be this kind of work.
Sacrifice for the nation. Compared to the Black agents risking their lives on covert ops in remote corners of the world, moving into the Academy was practically a luxury complaint. Besides, the man she had to watch was one of the nation’s absolute top combat assets.
She let out a short sigh and asked,
“You said you’d give me good evaluations, right?”
Director: “Of course! Who knows? Later on, if a dedicated Black team is formed separate from the special ops unit, who do you think will be its leader?”
“Understood. I’ll do it.”
Director: “Thank you. The nation will not forget your sacrifice.”
Click.
The call ended. Lee Se-ah stared once more at the tightly shut front door of the safe house. Mission or no mission—now that she had accepted, the road ahead looked pitch-black.
“Haa… what a life I’ve got…”
Early Sunday morning.
On the roof of the old training hall, Kang Hyun sat cross-legged. Once again he was suppressing the writhing demonic energy of Asura through the Extreme Yang Heart Method when—
Hm?
A faint presence drifted up from the training ground below. Kang Hyun slowly opened his eyes.
There’s still a full hour until the appointed time.
It was Seo Hae-in of the 20th batch. After confirming no one else was around, she claimed a corner and began loosening her stiff body with practiced ease.
A hard worker, huh.
Training at dawn without anyone ordering her to? And yet she was the eternal bottom-ranker?
Interesting.
Intrigued, Kang Hyun finished circulating his energy and watched her. Once her stretching was done, she picked up a wooden sword.
Swish! Whoosh!
Sharp cutting sounds sliced through the quiet training hall.
The basic forms of the Clear Wind Sword Method?
Kang Hyun, who carried every martial art in the world inside his head, instantly saw through the root of the technique she was practicing. At the same time he became certain: the martial manuals that appeared in the dungeons of this world were clearly connected to the Murim he had once walked.
Clear Wind Sword Method, is it.
New Academy cadets first chose a major. Once chosen, their major professor recommended a heart method and sword art registered in the western pavilion. She had almost certainly been recommended this one.
The professor who recommended it was incompetent.
Kang Hyun clicked his tongue inwardly. The Clear Wind Sword Method was one of the foundational arts of the Qingcheng Sect, specialized in lightness and sharpness—well-suited for women. But the skeletal frame of Seo Hae-in that he saw was completely different from her outward appearance.
Her bones are different. Completely different.
Whether she had eaten a lot of anchovies as a child or not, her bone density was enormous despite her slender build.
What they call “dense bones.”
A physique like that was better suited to overbearing, heavy sword styles—or even saber arts—rather than a sharp, light sword. If she had only learned the right martial art, bottom rank would have been impossible. Add her effort on top of that, and she would casually chew through most of the people here.
Drip.
He uncorked the whiskey and continued watching her train when the rest of the group began to arrive one by one: Han Tae-ho, Yoon Hyun-jong, Cha Yu-sik, then Kwak Do-jin. Seo Hae-in stopped her practice the moment the others appeared and waited awkwardly.
Kang Hyun did not bother wondering what each of them carried in their hearts. Everyone had their own circumstances and desires.
But…
Was teaching them the right thing?
In truth, the most efficient course of action right now would be to scour the entire world like hunting rats and cherry-pick only the true geniuses. Seven people born with perfect martial bones, constitution, mentality, and talent—kidnap them if necessary—and force them to master the Chilyojin, the Seven Star Array. Only then could Asura, the Demon God, be stopped.
Just like those old men.
If it had been the grandfathers, they would never even have glanced at half-baked kids like these. And if they had been forced to teach them?
Teach? They would have just beaten them.
Kang Hyun’s lips twisted. He himself had started the same way at thirteen—being beaten. Bones broken, organs ruptured, blood vomited—then a handful of elixirs shoved down his throat so the beating could resume. The process was designed to make being hit more familiar than breathing, until eventually he felt no fear even in the face of any attack or death itself.
Grind.
His teeth clenched. Respect for his masters? He had none of that garbage. Just thinking of those days still made rage surge up.
If abusing a child was acceptable for the sake of saving the world, then what about that child’s life?
Even during his days wandering the martial world, Kang Hyun had envied the warm master-disciple bonds more than anything. Because he had never had one.
I will not become like those old men.
Kang Hyun closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again. Hadn’t he already sworn this last time? This life, he would live his own way.
Preparing for Asura was important, of course. If this world vanished, the corner of his room where he sprawled and the delicious whiskey would all disappear with it. But equally—no, more—important was taking care of himself. This was a precious life he only got once.
Suppose he did exactly as those old men had: beat seven people like animals until they became numb weapons capable of forming the Chilyojin and saved the world. Would he be happy?
No.
Kang Hyun shook his head. That would merely be passing on the hell he had suffered to other innocent people. He did not want to save the world only to spend the rest of his life nursing a bitter heart and drowning in cheap liquor. He refused to become the same kind of old monster he had so thoroughly hated.
And…
His gaze settled on the five crowns of heads clustered together in the training hall.
Those kids will become the mirror that proves I am walking a different path from those old men.
Cha Yu-sik had been waiting with anticipation. He had thought about it all night.
Who exactly is Professor Kang Hyun?
A contract professor suddenly appointed after the entrance ceremony. A parachute from the Management Bureau, openly protected by Dean Seo Il-hyun. And a man who could crush him—an A-rank hunter—with overwhelming killing intent alone.
He had searched all night and found nothing. Which meant…
He has to be an S-rank asset the Bureau either raised in secret or hid for some reason.
For Cha Yu-sik, whose succession prospects were hardening in the wrong direction, this was a lifeline dropped from heaven.
I have to get stronger.
If he became strong enough to at least defeat his older brother, his father would surely look at him again. Cheonrang—the Heavenly Wolf. The man firmly believed that the alpha leading the pack had to be the strongest.
What will he teach us?
It wouldn’t be anything ordinary. If it were, he would never have written “How to Become Strong” with such confidence. A secret manual? Or a new art he had pioneered himself?
Cha Yu-sik’s heart pounded. A quick glance around showed he was not the only one filled with expectation. The freshman, the eternal bottom-ranker, the mad dog, the golden spoon—everyone shared that thrilling sense of waiting for some great opportunity.
How much time passed like that?
Thud.
Someone landed on the ground. It was Kang Hyun, looking as disheveled as ever.
“……!”
The cadets flinched.
How long has he been up there?
There wasn’t even a hint of presence.
Wait—can you even jump from that height?
The old building was five stories. The roof alone was well over fifteen meters high. Even if someone could jump, there should at least have been a puff of dust. There was none. It felt like looking at a ghost.
“You’re all here.”
Yoon Hyun-jong reacted first.
“You’ve arrived, Professor!”
When a cadet met a professor, the first thing to do was greet him properly! As he bowed, the other four hurriedly dipped their heads as well.
“You all came early. I praise you for not being late.”
Clink.
Kang Hyun lightly shook the whiskey bottle in his hand.
“From now on, every morning at six, assemble here at this training hall.”
“What? Every day?”
The one who questioned it was Kwak Do-jin. He was particularly sensitive about class hours.
“Of course. Did you think someone who wants to get stronger can manage with training once a week?”
“…But on weekdays, cadets’ schedules are packed with major and general education classes.”
“You don’t attend those classes anyway, do you?”
Kwak Do-jin’s eyes widened. The seemingly indifferent professor had clearly read his student record.
“And whether you come or not doesn’t matter. If you give up halfway and run, that’s entirely your freedom. I will not teach you by force.”
Because he had decided not to do it the way those old men had. Violence was efficient, but it made people passive. The moment the violence disappeared, they would give up easily.
That’s what I wanted to do, after all.
But if it was a path they chose themselves? Then they would be able to endure the pain that came with it.
Yet the moment he said it, the cadets’ expressions turned strange.
He’s saying he won’t hand over the secret manuals easily, right?
Completely misunderstanding, Cha Yu-sik shouted with a resolute voice,
“I’ll come!”
“Even if I have to abandon every other major class, I will stand here every morning at six!”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“Yes! If it means learning the Professor’s martial arts, I have to be prepared for low grades.”
“Martial arts?”
Kang Hyun’s lips twisted.
“What martial arts?”
“Excuse me?”
“Looking at the state of you lot, what heart method or martial art are you talking about?”
In Kang Hyun’s eyes, they looked like newborns who couldn’t even crawl yet demanding to be taught how to run. Their lower bodies were weak, their stamina looked poor. Swinging weapons in that condition would only leave them exhausted with no center of balance. Learning martial arts would be meaningless.
“You start over from the foundation.”
Gulp.
Cha Yu-sik’s throat bobbed. Foundation work? Right—there had to be some secret foundational breathing technique, didn’t there?
“Everyone, spread your feet wider than shoulder-width.”
“……!”
“Then bend your knees. Until your thighs are parallel to the ground. Keep your back straight and your gaze forward.”
The cadets’ expressions grew even stranger. Surely he wasn’t telling the elites of the National Hunter Academy to hold a horse-riding stance like some neighborhood dojo?
“If you’re going to learn martial arts, you should at least be able to stand properly on your own two feet, shouldn’t you?”