The Black Flame Dragon Who Gives Opportunities
“What on earth are you thinking, Young Master Jin?”
The best perk of being a Murim Academy representative was the accommodations—and the servants on constant standby. As the banquet hall's atmosphere grew increasingly hostile, the instructors hastily ended the event, and our group gathered in my quarters before heading to the dorms.
“The tea smells great. Give it a try.”
“……”
The middle-aged maid who'd forced me into this humiliating outfit brought out tea and snacks without a word from me. Namgung Seonhwa, Moyong Jaehwa, and Seong Moran weren't fazed—they were used to this level of treatment at home—but the Tae-eul Gate kids tensed up at the sudden appearance of the servants, falling silent.
“Young Master Jin, are you really okay?”
“And you, Lady Seonhwa?”
“With what?”
“I did appoint you as an executive without even asking your opinion…”
“Of course I'm fine with it. But I'm worried the others are furious about it.”
“If they're angry, that's unavoidable.”
They could've joined one of the Five Great Families' factions but chose to follow me instead. To me, this was assembling the perfect staff.
“But once the academy schedule starts and no one follows your plans…”
“Then I'll just step down as representative.”
“Pardon?”
“I didn't come to the academy for fame, fortune, or promotions anyway.”
Sure, I'd have to give up the cushy life and servants, but so what? I entered the Murim Academy to protect my people, and I could do that without the title. Soon enough, a catastrophe would wipe out most of the academy students. I'd spent sleepless nights since day one plotting how to prevent it.
Shishan Blood Sect. A splinter faction of the Blood Demon Clan that broke from the Demonic Cult 200 years ago and built its own power base in the western regions. Before the Righteous-Demonic War—sparked by the Demonic Cult's schemes—the Murim Alliance's first victims were these guys. And the initial sacrifices? The academy students right here.
“I came here to protect myself and my people. I have no interest in the representative position or future spots at the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly.”
Their gazes turned blank at my words. In my previous life, the Demonic Cult's moves were too covert, their demonic networks spanning the entire martial world too tangled to unravel. But now, I was here, leaking info bit by bit. The future had already shifted dramatically—no clash with the Shishan Blood Sect, no academy massacre.
“I'll just do my best at what I can. And I won't compromise with them for my own gain.”
“……Um, does that mean we're your people too, Young Master Jin?”
Namgung Seonhwa's tentative question. I tilted my head.
“Isn't that obvious?”
“……Hehe.”
No matter what happened, my goal was clear: protect those I failed to save before.
“Besides, no matter how many tricks they pull, things won't go their way.”
And give those bastards a real taste of their own medicine.
# Jegal Somyeong despised the Elder Hall.
Those who entered the Murim Alliance's Elder Hall were usually politicians who excelled at scheming over actual ability. To Jegal Somyeong, it was a cesspool of power-hungry elitists embodying every flaw of the Alliance. They ignored rules, flouted norms, and acted like nobility.
That's why they barged into the Myriad Communications Division without warning and shoved unqualified cronies everywhere. He cut that nonsense off at the root.
But even Jegal Somyeong had moments when he set aside his mountain of work to meet an Elder Hall figure—when they actually followed procedure.
“Why the hell are they suddenly playing by the rules?”
A few days ago, they'd sent a messenger bird to schedule this. Jegal Somyeong was the one caught off guard by the sudden Elder Hall appointment.
“What grave matter requires this inconvenient meeting?”
Myeonghyeon flashed a subtle smile at Jegal Somyeong's words.
“What, do we need a reason to meet? Just catching up on old times.”
As if they'd ever swapped stories. Back when Jegal Somyeong shone at the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly, Myeonghyeon was a nobody.
“If that's the case, busy folks like you wouldn't bother with this tedious pro-ce-dure.”
“Hoho, this incident taught us plenty. How vital pro-ce-dure and nor-ms are. Thanks to that, we let in a kid colluding with the unorthodox paths.”
Predictable. This wasn't about old times—it was resentment over Jin Sowoon topping the exams. Otherwise, no way they'd jump through these hoops.
“The Elder Hall's drafting a new law. We call it the 'Jin Sowoon Law.'”
“Not a great name. Makes it sound like Jin Sowoon broke some law.”
“We'll rename it once it's passed, of course.”
“……Even if you pass it now, you can't expel a kid who's already enrolled. You know that.”
“Naturally. We just want a thorough screening process to prevent repeats.”
Myeonghyeon seemed to have backed off on Jin Sowoon somewhat, but Jegal Somyeong still couldn't pin down his true aim.
“The academy exams are over. Time to focus on the martial world, no?”
“No! Elder Myeonghyeon must be swamped with Alliance duties—now the martial world too?”
Myeonghyeon's complexion didn't change at Jegal Somyeong's sarcasm.
“Traces of Sado appeared in the northwest exam zone.”
“……”
“I think investigating that takes priority.”
Jegal Somyeong knew about the clash near Kunlun Mountain—suspected Sado groups versus examinees. But Demonic Cult traces in the Buryang Plains had delayed it.
“The Myriad Communications Division is aware and preparing.”
“Is it? Haven't heard of any actual probes.”
“Prioritizing by urgency.”
“Hoho, more urgent than Sado emerging?”
Demonic Cult-like traces were popping up everywhere. But they were just suspicions without proof—needing deeper probes. All investigators were tied up there.
“Should wrap it up soon. No need to worry.”
“Hoho, hard to trust. The Alliance's chief strategist, who should lead demon hunts, distracted by other matters.”
“……”
As Jegal Somyeong considered pulling some dirt on Myeonghyeon from Simhyeongak to counter this petty revenge over Jin Sowoon—
“……But the chief strategist has his own headaches, I suppose.”
“……”
“So I had an idea. Why not assign it to the academy students?”
“……”
Jegal Somyeong had heard Jin Sowoon failed to fill his executive slots—half with his own connections, while others shunned him. And Myeonghyeon likely pulled strings there.
“They're students, but peak martial artists already. Valuable experience for them.”
Academy students gaining field experience via internships wasn't new, but Jin Sowoon couldn't rally them.
'So that's your play.'
Sending uncoordinated students now would breed chaos under fractured leadership—speeding Jin Sowoon's impeachment. But rejecting Myeonghyeon's prepared, justified pitch outright wasn't feasible.
“Dumping a major op on unadjusted students doesn't sit right.”
“Adjustment is—”
“Ah, not saying they can't. They could handle it. Just give it time. Need a solid system first before they move.”
“……”
All Jegal Somyeong could do for Jin Sowoon was buy time. Without it, he'd be impeached for incompetence before wrangling the students.
Myeonghyeon backed off there.
“Dealing with these scheming bastards my whole life is giving me a damn headache.”
Heading back to the Myriad Communications Division, Jegal Somyeong rubbed his temples. If only someone could handle those sly old foxes for him.
Someone sharp enough was at the academy—neck on the block.
“Ehehe… You fool. I'll make you cling to my pant leg, begging. Ehihi.”
“……”
Maeng Ju-won had moped for days, muttering “My youth… my bunny-like wife… my foxy kids…” like a corpse. Now his eyes blazed as he worked.
“What's that idiot doing?”
A passing subordinate sighed, pointing to the rulebook Maeng Ju-won clutched.
“The academy rep team's executives fell through, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Heard that and went 'Chance for remarriage!'—now inflating paperwork tenfold to send to the academy.”
With executives and students unavailable, Jin Sowoon desperately needed Maeng Ju-won's “help.” Clever ploy.
“Stop him?”
“Let it be.”
“Huh?”
Jegal Somyeong, who never tolerated Maeng Ju-won's antics, shocked the subordinate.
“Jin Sowoon needs help anyway. As long as it gets him to the Alliance, right?”
Plus, it'd plant Jin Sowoon's foot in the Myriad Communications Division—easing Jegal Somyeong's load.
The students were divided into ten classes by exam scores. Morning classes capped at three periods, leaving afternoons free for rep team duties and personal training.
“What is martial prowess?”
I was the only one from our group in Class A, and this was its first lesson.
“Ultimately, wu is just one form of strength. No matter how mighty the warrior, they fall to governmental power. Absolute authority crumbles before wealth in a decade. But wealth is indirect—powerless against raw force.”
“Question.”
The instructor eyed the raised hand.
“Are those the only powers? I think there are others.”
“Others?”
“Yes. One of our cohort aced the exams thanks to excellent manpower.”
“Manpower?”
“Yeah—connections stretching to the unorthodox paths that got him in.”
“……Puhahaha!”
“Kuhahaha!”
Laughter exploded amid the silence. Eyes naturally turned to me.
“……”
The instructor joined in, clutching his gut before recovering.
“Tch! Mocking a future comrade like that?”
“Frankly, it makes me uneasy. Who knows when he'll defect and stab us in the back?”
“Pfft, right. So, what do you think of his claim?”
The instructor pointed at me. I stood, facing the questioner.
“Well, if he thinks connections alone got him top scores, doesn't that mean he's too dim for martial arts? I get the academy doesn't test intellect.”
“……”
I played along with their joke, but they looked like they'd seen a ghost. Pathetic.
“So you claim you have other strengths too?”
“Not sure if 'enough,' but the academy's bar is sky-high for connections alone.”
“Hm… True. Heard other students don't acknowledge you?”
“Guess I'm that lacking.”
“I'll give you a stage to prove yourself. Need to show you're not weak in force, at least.”
“A spar?”
“Gotta demonstrate your wu to measure it.”
“……”
The instructor glanced at the questioner.
“You spoke rashly—prepared for consequences?”
“Of course!”
He turned back to me.
“Well? Up for it?”
“That won't prove much.”
Sneers rippled across faces, snickers echoing.
I stepped forward regardless.
“At least five should do it.”