Muscles Had Long Reached Their Limit
My muscles had long hit their limit. My knee joints screamed in agony. My lungs burned right up to my throat. I was in a state where collapsing on the spot wouldn't have been strange at all.
But even in that condition, I kept running.
Even if my joints shattered completely, even if my muscles tore and finally burst.
I didn't stop charging forward. My eyes locked on just one thing.
The shot put I'd thrown. It arced beautifully through the air before suddenly plummeting at a ferocious speed.
I sprinted like a madman toward where I predicted it would land.
I can catch it.At this pace, I can definitely catch it.
This was beyond mere guesswork—it was certainty.
Grab—!
And I caught the shot put.
Well, more precisely, I caught it... and then dropped it.
The moment I seized it, all strength drained from my body.
The reason was simple. Bosu's power, mighty strength, had run its course.
"......Ah."
"Sorry. Maybe because I haven't eaten an offering in half a year... my power's running low."
Bosu's dejected voice buzzed dismally in my head. It gradually faded away. Bosu's mighty strength slowly detached from my body.
Then, the pain I'd forgotten came crashing back belatedly.
My legs hurt so badly I couldn't even move them, my joints throbbed like they might snap at any moment. My breath caught, my mind grew hazy and distant.
"No altar means the side effects hit hard, huh. Poor thing. If it bugs you that much, hurry up and find one."
Legba teased mockingly.
I couldn't even respond. I just rolled on the ground.
Damn it. Why'd we lose the altar of all things?
Who the hell steals an altar? Whoever took it, I'll kill them. For real.
Vain regrets and resentment. With that, my consciousness cut out.
Everyone has something they crave. It could be money, honor, or power.
All those desires stem from one emotion. A sense of superiority.
When it came to describing Bae Seong-hyeon's life, no word fit better.
A life of victory, conquest, trampling and scorning those beneath him.
He'd always lived driven by that sense of superiority—and he planned to keep doing so.
"I can't help but praise your blessing application. With the recovery enhancement blessing..."
When he returned to his spot after throwing, Kim Bok-dong lavished praise on Bae Seong-hyeon for various reasons.
Bae Seong-hyeon barely listened. He just watched the other kids gazing up at him in awe.
More. Praise me more.Admire me more.More, more!
Hiding his rising smirk, that's what Bae Seong-hyeon thought.
After that, there was nothing worth watching.
No one could break his overwhelming record. Most didn't even clear 50 meters, and even the better ones couldn't breach the 200-meter wall.
No one threatened Bae Seong-hyeon.
Except one.
"This is the only blessing I know how to use."
At first, he seemed like just another idiot. Unqualified, just lucky to get into Florence Academy.
No different from the rest. No, even more inferior and dumb.
That's all Bae Seong-hyeon thought.
But when he dashed out to catch his own shot put, Bae Seong-hyeon's mind changed.
He ran like a bull. A bull charging madly at its target. No, by speed, maybe a cheetah.
Do Seon-woo had nearly caught the shot put, nearly satisfied the 'special condition' for full marks.
He failed due to a mistake in the end, but...
No, not 'nearly'.
From Bae Seong-hyeon's view, it was 'fortunate'.
"Oh dear. Passed out?"
Kim Bok-dong rushed toward Do Seon-woo sprawled on the field.
The other kids giggled and gossiped in the gap.
"Why'd he even try that?"
"Right? He could've placed fifth just throwing it."
"Idiot. Or full of himself."
Listening to them, Bae Seong-hyeon seethed with anger.
Do Seon-woo had nearly caught it. He hadn't in the end, but without that final slip, he'd have nabbed it easily.
Bae Seong-hyeon's rank would've dropped to second.
The implication was clear.
Next time, I might lose.
This time, Do Seon-woo luckily messed up. But no guarantee next time.
He might lose the next fitness test. No, he would lose.
Objectively, Do Seon-woo's strength surpassed his own.
With that thought, a long-forgotten emotion crept up in Bae Seong-hyeon's mind.
Inferiority complex. The shadow lurking behind superiority, peeking out secretly.
The emotion Bae Seong-hyeon hated most, one he'd sworn never to feel again.
Do Seon-woo lay collapsed in the middle of the field.
Kim Bok-dong approached him. Do Seon-woo groaned while lying down.
Fortunately, he hadn't passed out.
"You okay?"
"Ah, ugh... Yes, I'm fine."
Do Seon-woo forced his trembling body upright. At a glance, no part of him looked unscathed. Some muscles had torn and were bruising; his knee seemed slightly twisted. Injuries that would've kept most people down.
Kim Bok-dong drew a blessing circle in the air and applied it to Do Seon-woo.
"Mid-level healing circle. Won't fully cure you, but it'll ease the pain."
"Thank you."
"Record's 83 meters, twelfth overall. Any objections?"
"None."
"Alright, head to the nurse's office then."
Do Seon-woo shuffled toward the nurse's office. Regret plain on his face.
Kim Bok-dong watched his back quietly. Impressive he'd risen despite those injuries, but the real surprise was elsewhere.
He nearly succeeded.
In Florence's history, only two students had met the fitness test's 'special condition' for full marks. One the Pope's son, the other Kim Bok-dong himself.
Back when Kim Bok-dong was a student, he'd barely managed it using every blessing he knew.
Yet Do Seon-woo nearly did it with just low-level strength enhancement.
No blessing talent maybe, but innate physical prowess. No, 'god-given talent' didn't overstate it.
"Fitness test over. First: Bae Seong-hyeon. Second: Gu Jun-hyeok. Third: Jeong In-ah. Check the rest yourselves. Grades awarded by rank. Dismissed—back to class."
Kim Bok-dong sent the students back. Amid the dusty field, he thought of the Charity Class.
Bae Seong-hyeon with his overwhelming skill. Gu Jun-hyeok securing steady second. Jeong In-ah, physically weaker but blessed in blessing use.
All talented, excellent prospects... but the one etched clearest in Kim Bok-dong's mind was Do Seon-woo.
"Fall down the stairs? Or jump off the roof?"
"No, during the fitness test."
"Fitness test? Come on, if you're lying, make it believable."
"It's true."
"Yeah, yeah, got it. Injuries treated for now— no intense exercise for a while. Got it?"
The school nurse didn't buy my fitness test story. She spoke with reluctant acceptance.
But the treatment was solid, so no complaints.
On the way back to class, quiet Legba finally spoke.
"Think about your body when using powers. Especially now without an altar."
Gruff tone. Legba's way of worrying.
"Won't happen again."
"Do it again and your body'll really break. Planning to die before twenty?"
"Nah, this much is fine."
Loa powers match their overwhelming effects with severe side effects. Bosu's is relatively mild.
Others are stronger, broader, but with harsher backlash.
Offerings via altar minimize side effects and boost power—but meaningless now with the stolen altar.
I reached the classroom. Homeroom in full swing.
"Ah, you're back. Class rep, pass this on to Do Seon-woo. Kidnappings happening nearby lately. Head home carefully, no late nights. Got it?"
Homeroom teacher Ha Ye-jin said that and left.
Everyone grabbed bags and headed out en masse.
Bae Seong-hyeon approached with the parent notice.
"Read it yourself."
He tossed it roughly on my desk and left. Smirking, but fake. His tone dripped clear hostility.
"What's his deal?"
"......"
No idea.
On the way home. The usual somewhat eerie, chilly alley.
A bit in, the usual crippled old man sat there. Without hesitation, I pulled out my wallet and dropped a ten-thousand-won bill in his can.
"Money to burn, huh?"
"This much is fine."
"Lucky fate."
Legba grumbled. I just smiled without replying.
I'm not rich. But not desperate enough to begrudge a little charity like this.
"No news on anyone else?"
"Oh, right—Baron Samedi that guy... Ah, crap."
Mid-chat with Legba, he suddenly clammed up.
One of two things. Either Legba got moody, or someone was nearby.
I scanned around. Sure enough, a girl from the opposite direction stared intently.
Curly brown hair gleaming in the sun. Florence uniform. Name tag: 'Jeong In-ah'.
Jeong In-ah. Classmate, third in today's fitness test.
"Who were you talking to?"
Jeong In-ah approached with a bright smile. Chills ran down my spine.
People who see me talking to Legba usually think I'm crazy. If they just think it, fine. But rumors like 'Do Seon-woo muttering to thin air' would ruin school life.
To quash rumors, choose words carefully.
"Uh, praying a bit."
"Ah...! Did I interrupt?"
Jeong In-ah looked apologetic. In Romanica-worshipping Korea, mentioning 'prayer' or 'scripture' smoothed things over nicely. Wisdom honed from years of lies and excuses.
"Nah, it's fine."
"Sorry... Didn't know you were praying. People pray while walking too, huh..."
She bowed her head apologetically. Seemed to buy it. Naive type, probably. Falling for such a simple lie.
"Live this way?"
Quickly perking up, she asked.
"Yeah."
"Me too. Let's go together."
She fell in step beside me naturally. Before I knew it, we walked side by side.
Awkward silence followed. Natural for near-strangers despite same class.
"But why give that guy money?"
Jeong In-ah broke it.
"That guy? ...Oh, the old man?"
"Yeah."
I pondered briefly.
"Pitiful, and ten thousand won's no big deal."
"He's not disabled. Stands right up after collections. Saw him run for a bus last time."
"Really?"
I replied offhand.
"......Still pity him?"
"Must have his reasons."
Whether truly disabled or faking for begs—didn't matter to me. Just wondered how desperate you'd have to be.
Jeong In-ah eyed me like I was weird.
"You must hear 'pushover'—I mean, 'nice guy'—a lot."
"Pushover?"
"No, slip of the tongue, anyway."
She fumbled to rephrase.
"Th-that fitness test! Super impressive."
Awkward topic shift.
"Yeah?"
"Totally. Never thought anyone'd try that. Catching your own throw? Logically impossible."
"True. I failed anyway."
I just agreed.
"Nearly succeeded though. I couldn't even attempt it. Suck at sports."
"Third's still amazing."
She smiled shyly, embarrassed but pleased.
"......Thanks!"
Awkward gratitude. Not used to praise. Emotions plain on her face—easy to read at a glance.
Silence again. She broke it, hating awkwardness.
"Sooo, why Florence? Mercenary academy suits your strength."
"Me?"
Mercenaries slay demons like clerics but get per-job pay. Clerics salaried by the Papal Court. Those without divine power but strong bodies pick mercenary academies.
But my goal: become high cleric, meet Mom. Need cleric path, not mercenary.
Won't say that, though.
"Parents' influence a bit."
"Oh, parents clerics too? Both?"
"One martyred. During the Holy War."
Technically no lies. Dumping family history suddenly flustered her.
"Ah... Okay to tell me?"
"Nothing shameful."
"Yeah, true. Still..."
Martyred cleric parent is pride, not shame. Why low-score me got into Florence: martyr's child privilege.
Fake backstory anyway, crafted by Uncle Lee Jin-seong's tireless work. Safe to share.
"Why'd you pick Florence?"
Courtesy question.
Jeong In-ah hesitated, then steeled herself.
"Um. My little sister's kidnapped by a cult, still missing. Thought cleric could find her."
Sad face. Deeper story than expected. Stung a bit—Voodoo's a cult too, after all. Though no kidnappings.
"Cult? Which one? Lots of types."
Curious, asked anyway.
"Yeah, the worst—brutal, vicious... Famous one."
She gnashed teeth. Veins pulsed on her neck. Just thinking of her sister's kidnappers enraged her.
She sighed deeply, calming, then smiled casually. That smile highlighted her anger more starkly.
"Voodoo cult... Know it?"
Jeong In-ah said smiling.
I couldn't smile.
(To be continued next time)