Worthless Bastards
There were twenty students in total.
The three original applicants, plus the seventeen the dean had stuffed in.
“Wow.”
Lee Se-ah flipped rapidly through her tablet.
“These records are pretty flashy, huh? There’s one who’s racked up dozens of disciplinary actions, and another who got suspended for swinging a sword at a professor because he had connections. Want me to read the list?”
“No.”
Kang Hyun, who had already wandered into the house, sank into his usual spot on the sofa.
Pop.
He casually cracked open a bottle of whiskey.
Lee Se-ah’s face twisted in pure disgust.
At this point, does he even have blood left, or is it just alcohol flowing through his veins?
“You’re not even going to look? They’re the cadets you’ll be teaching. At least their names and records…”
“What good would knowing that do?”
“Huh?”
“Whether they beat up professors or strut around relying on their backgrounds, none of my business.”
He took a sip of whiskey and continued.
“What matters is what kind of eyes they’re wearing when they stand in front of me.”
Twenty years in Murim.
He had cut down countless geniuses and prodigies, and through it all he had learned one truth.
Even a brat born into the greatest clan under heaven, raised on every elixir and secret manual imaginable, was nothing more than a well-fattened pig if he wet himself and ran the moment death stared him down.
On the other hand, even a beggar rolling in the gutter who bared his fangs like a beast and charged just to stay alive—that was a true martial bone, a real vessel.
The dean had asked him as a favor, but Kang Hyun had no intention of saving every last one of them.
“When’s the class?”
“Next Saturday. That’s the first week of the semester.”
As a late-contract professor, Kang Hyun had missed the academy’s twentieth-anniversary entrance ceremony and orientation.
Personally, he found that a little regrettable.
There was no better place to size up the students’ talent.
Still, it wasn’t something to rush.
The seven vessels who could hold the formation to the very end against that nightmarish Asura.
True gems like that would never be hidden just by sitting politely under the stage and clapping at an entrance ceremony.
A true masterwork blade doesn’t reveal its worth while it’s still in the scabbard. Only after it has carved through flesh and bone and been bathed in blood does its real value show.
He simply hoped at least one of them was among those twenty.
Even just one.
Kang Hyun once again shoved Lee Se-ah out when she insisted on cleaning his room.
After she left—
“Ugh.”
He set the whiskey glass down on the table and twisted his brow.
Numbing the pain with alcohol only went so far.
It’s constantly trying to crawl its way up, isn’t it.
Kang Hyun crossed his legs into a lotus position on the sofa and closed his eyes.
His breathing slowed to a fine thread, and the air around him grew cold and still.
The exclusive martial art of the Sword-Crazed elder who had devoted his entire life to the blade alone.
The moment he circulated the mind method, the Asura’s poison that had been crawling up his meridians writhed like a snake before being slammed down to the bottom of his dantian.
Of course, this was only a temporary measure.
I need to get rid of it soon.
Just suppressing this poison was already devouring eighty percent of his internal energy.
He wanted to take in new energy and grow stronger, but he simply had no room left for it.
I have to get stronger.
Last time he had fought the Demon God to a near draw and barely scraped out a win.
Because of that, the old men had all died and most of Murim had been wiped out.
I won’t let it happen that way again.
This time he would prepare thoroughly and crush it so completely that the people here would think nothing more than a single typhoon had brushed past.
Shhh.
Kang Hyun’s eyes closed.
Saturday, 9:50 a.m.
The training ground in the academy’s old building.
A handful of students had already gathered to attend Kang Hyun’s class that started at ten.
“Ha, fuck.”
A rough curse tore out of someone’s mouth.
The owner of the voice was Kwak Do-jin of the 18th batch.
Under normal circumstances he should have already graduated past the third-year 19th batch and left the academy long ago.
His nickname was Mad Dog.
Dozens of disciplinary actions and a full year of repeating.
“Annoying me from Saturday morning.”
Thud!
He kicked a nearby training dummy in irritation.
He was openly throwing a tantrum, yet no one stopped him.
The academy divided seniors and juniors by batch, after all.
If it weren’t for the dean’s order, I’d have just ignored this.
Kwak Do-jin ground his teeth.
No matter how little he gave a damn about anything, even he couldn’t defy an order from Seo Il-hyun—one of only seven S-rank hunters in the entire country and the academy’s dean.
“Hey, you two. Freshmen, right? Get over here.”
Suppressed rage always looked for an easy target.
The moment Kwak Do-jin’s vicious gaze locked onto the two freshmen cowering in the corner of the training ground—
Scramble!
The thoroughly cowed pair shot forward and planted themselves in front of him.
“T-twenty-first batch! Han Tae-ho!”
“Twenty-first batch! Greeting you, senior!”
“Yeah, yeah. These cute little bastards.”
Kwak Do-jin planted his weight on one leg in a delinquent slouch and casually slapped both of their shoulders.
“You’re the ones, right? Two of the three suckers who actually volunteered for this idiot class.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
“Why?”
“Sir?”
“This class. Why the hell did you sign up?”
The somewhat vacant-looking Han Tae-ho answered first.
“I-I applied after reading the introduction that said I could get stronger!”
“Bullshit.”
Kwak Do-jin snorted.
Get stronger, my ass.
Word had already spread among the freshmen that this guy was a pure parachute contract professor.
“You really don’t know a damn thing, you clueless dumbass.”
He clicked his tongue in pure pity and turned to the other freshman.
“You?”
“M-me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“…I clicked the wrong button by mistake when I was registering for classes.”
“Crazy.”
Kwak Do-jin let out a short, incredulous laugh.
“This one’s even dumber. What a goddamn spectacle.”
He swept his gaze around the training ground and raised his voice.
“The three-piece set is perfect. Problem kids one step from expulsion, dumbasses who walked in on their own two feet, and the parachute nobody teaching them.”
Ptoo!
Kwak Do-jin spat on the ground.
“Because of this Kang Hyun or whatever bastard, what a waste of—”
“Your words go too far.”
Someone stepped out from the side of the training ground.
“What, you?”
“Twentieth batch, Yoon Hyun-jong.”
“So what the hell does that mean, you bastard.”
Kwak Do-jin dropped his lazy stance and strode right up to Yoon Hyun-jong.
The height difference was a full head.
“I am the third voluntary applicant.”
“Ah, so you’re that one. The kid who almost died from Qi deviation this time.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Kwak Do-jin’s mouth twisted.
“Does it piss you off that I’m badmouthing your savior?”
“…I believe it is rash to pass judgment without having experienced it yourself.”
“What?”
A short laugh burst from Kwak Do-jin’s mouth.
Haha. Heh.
The world really has gotten soft.
Not even one batch, but two batches junior, and the kid was talking back.
“Look at this bastard. Think I’m easy just because I repeated a year?”
Kwak Do-jin closed the distance until he was right in Yoon Hyun-jong’s face.
“Want me to teach you hierarchy before the professor even shows up?”
“I believe hierarchy is something senior needs to learn first.”
“This bastard’s really lost his mind.”
Rage shot straight to the top of Kwak Do-jin’s head. He seized Yoon Hyun-jong’s collar in a brutal grip and cocked his fist—
“Kwak senior.”
A low, thoroughly annoyed voice drifted over from a distance.
“……!”
At that single word, Kwak Do-jin’s shoulders locked solid.
A man was walking slowly toward the training ground from the far corner.
Nineteenth batch, Cha Yu-sik!
In every practical sense, the apex predator of this academy!
Skill aside, there was not a single student who could touch him.
Even the professors found him difficult to handle.
Because his backing was monstrous.
S-rank hunter and master of the Cheonrang Guild, Cha Ha-rang.
His second son.
“That’s enough for the first day.”
“Ah… should I, Cha junior?”
Kwak Do-jin quietly released the collar.
Even the one called Mad Dog had no choice but to tuck his tail in front of a real madman.
Even I don’t swing a sword at professors, no matter how crazy I am.
In truth, Cha Yu-sik looked down on the professors.
No—he had no choice but to find them laughable.
The academy faculty were mostly retired A-rank hunters who had stepped back from the front lines.
How could they possibly look impressive to the second son of Cheonrang, one of Korea’s three great guilds?
They don’t even reach the toes of our guild’s attack captains.
From childhood he had learned the sword directly from monsters who lived and breathed real combat.
The professors’ predictable theory lectures and greenhouse-flower training only made him yawn.
And yet the reason he had dragged himself to this annoying training ground on a Saturday morning was only one thing.
“Haa.”
Cha Yu-sik let out a short sigh and swept his bangs back.
Dean Seo Il-hyun.
That old man had contacted his father directly.
“No need to get so worked up, Kwak senior.”
Cha Yu-sik wore his characteristic arrogant smile.
“This class will be the last one today anyway.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Is there any reason to sit through a class that isn’t even worth listening to for an entire semester? I’ll wrap it up cleanly today.”
“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re going to humiliate him from day one?”
“Humiliate? Please.”
He grinned.
“I’m simply checking whether he has the qualifications to teach us.”
Tap tap.
Cha Yu-sik brushed his scabbard with his fingers.
A professor who couldn’t even handle a single student?
Even the dean would have no justification left to protect such an incompetent instructor.
“Keh… keh! That’s right! If he doesn’t have the qualifications, he should pack his bags himself!”
Watching Kwak Do-jin’s delighted reaction, Yoon Hyun-jong clenched his fist tightly.
This is dangerous.
Rumors were everywhere that Cha Yu-sik didn’t lose even when sparring against the academy’s full professors.
Professor Kang Hyun’s medical knowledge was extraordinary, but there was no guarantee his actual combat power was anything special.
The other cadets gathered in the training ground each held their own thoughts.
Cha Yu-sik’s stepping up? Perfect. This was getting annoying.
If class blows up today, I can sleep in next week.
Some were pleased.
Even so, this is the dean’s recommendation, isn’t it? There has to be a reason.
He said he’d teach us how to get stronger. He’ll show something, at least.
Some still held a little expectation.
Time continued to pass.
Gooong!
The bell announcing exactly ten o’clock rang out.
Crunch, crunch.
Accompanied by the sound of feet dragging through sand, a man walked into the training ground.
“…….”
In that instant, the cadets’ expressions twisted.
“Haaaaawn.”
The professor walking toward them while yawning widely had hair sticking up like he had just rolled out of bed, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone.
But the real masterpiece was the whiskey bottle dangling from his hand.
A sharp, heavy alcohol smell rode the breeze straight into their faces.
…Alcohol?
Chugging whiskey from a bottle first thing in the morning? A professor?
What the hell is this…
Even Yoon Hyun-jong, who had been defending Kang Hyun in his heart, dropped his jaw.
Professor!
What are you doing?!
This would be a disciplinary offense even for a full professor!
The few cadets who had been holding onto expectation quickly let disappointment settle over their faces.
Kang Hyun, however, paid their stares not the slightest attention.
He walked slowly to the center of the training ground, stopped, and faced the students.
He hadn’t even brought an attendance sheet.
He simply stood with his weight on one leg and brought the whiskey bottle to his lips.
Gulp, gulp.
In the strange silence where even the breathing of twenty people seemed to stop—
“Haa.”
Kang Hyun exhaled a hot breath thick with alcohol and slowly lowered the bottle.
“Not a single scrap of venom in those eyes.”
His lips twisted with pure disappointment.
“Even livestock being dragged to the slaughterhouse would have more life in their eyes than this.”