Pulling Hidden Pieces (2)

On the train, the Disciplinary Committee normally operated in standard four-person parties, though in very special circumstances they were permitted to act individually.

And of course it just had to be one of those very special cases right now — which, from where I stood, amounted to a stroke of bad luck. Not that I had any intention of giving up, of course.

Before the fight could begin, I turned to Go Hyeon-woo.

"Lend me just 1 silver, will you?"

"Would a single silver coin do?"

"One's plenty."

Any more would have been pointless. I snatched the silver coin Go Hyeon-woo flicked my way clean out of the air.

"I'm counting on you."

"Leave it to me."

Watching me feed the coin into the slot and pull the lever, Han So-mi spoke up in a tone like she was gently scolding a child.

"Guys, you're not supposed to use that. We were told to keep students from touching it."

But the moment Han So-mi took a step forward, Go Hyeon-woo stepped out to meet her, blocking her path.

"……?"

"I must apologize in advance for the discourtesy I am about to commit. However, I cannot let you pass any farther."

"You're telling me you intend to keep using it?"

"Such is the case."

Han So-mi tilted her head slightly. Perhaps she thought Go Hyeon-woo simply hadn't grasped the situation, because she began walking him through it step by step.

"Break the school rules and you can get penalty points. And helping a student who's breaking them counts as a penalty too!"

"It is of no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠concern."

"How is it not a concern? You'd be collecting penalty points from the very start of the semester!"

"Hah."

Han So-mi let out a small, exasperated huff. Only then did it dawn on her that she was dealing with someone she couldn't talk sense into. From where I stood — on his side of it — that was reassuring. From hers, it must have felt like running headlong into a brick wall.

Just as Han So-mi opened her mouth to try again, Go Hyeon-woo bowed with impeccable courtesy.

"I have heard that Miss Han studied the sword under the Sword Empress herself. Might you grant me the honor of a single exchange?"

His manner was perfectly polite — but if you chose to read it a little crooked, this was what he actually meant:

'Ahh~ If it sticks in your craw that much, why not try cutting your way through with the swordsmanship your dear Empress taught you~'

Han So-mi evidently caught the hidden meaning too. She pursed her lips a few times, then asked:

"……What's your name?"

"I am called Go Hyeon-woo."

"I don't really like fighting. But my master always said that when someone stakes a challenge, you must neither ignore it nor run from it."

"A fine teaching. My own master has said much the same."

Go Hyeon-woo nodded.

Han So-mi moved to draw her sword — then stopped short.

"Oh, right, I'm not supposed to use this right now. In that case……"

Instead, she rummaged out something else and raised it. It was a short rod of steel, and the moment she pressed the button on its side—

—Clack!

—the rod stretched to three times its length. A three-section suppression baton.

"I'm supposed to use this!"

It was a notch below a sword in killing power, but more than enough for subduing an opponent. And with the Sword Empress's disciple wielding it, even a plain iron bar couldn't help but carry the imprint of true swordsmanship.

At the sight of the baton, Go Hyeon-woo smiled. Then he loosened the iron sword at his waist and held ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it up, scabbard and all.

"Ah, showing mercy in how you fight, are we? Then it would hardly do for me alone to come at you with everything I have. I shall meet you with this."

"The scabbard? Sure, fine!"

"I humbly ask for the lesson."

"Okay — here I come!"

Han So-mi gave an adorable little stamp of her foot. She seemed to bounce lightly in place — and in the blink of an eye she had closed the distance to stand directly in front of Go Hyeon-woo.

The three-section baton thrust straight for his throat. Go Hyeon-woo twisted just enough to slip aside, but she had anticipated even that, bending the thrust's arc on the fly and smashing down.

This time too, Go Hyeon-woo took a single light step back, slipping out of the baton's range. Han So-mi instantly reset her stance and began narrowing the gap with the same thrust as her opening attack.

But this time, the tip of the baton was trembling — so subtly it was nearly impossible to notice. The closer she came, the wider the tremor grew, until the baton seemed to split into three, striking at Go Hyeon-woo from three different directions at once. It only looked like three because of her monstrous speed.

"……"

Go Hyeon-woo studied it intently, then slid the scabbard in his hand into the attack's range and gave it a single light shake.

—Clack-clack-clang!

Judging by the sound, the defense had held — but he must have come out second-best all the same, for he gave back half a step. Han So-mi pressed the assault without pause; Go Hyeon-woo retreated, yet defended without a single opening.

—Clunk. While I was busy spectating, the slot machine spat out another 500mL bottle of water. I stood the bottle upright beside me and set the machine running again.

Three silver spent.

I had little interest in whatever came out for now. It would be a dud anyway, and even if it wasn't, it would be nothing worth getting excited over. For the moment, I gave my full attention to the duel between the two of them.

He isn't losing an inch on technique. To hold his own, near enough, against the Sword Empress's disciple meant standing at the very top of the first year. Just as I'd guessed at our first meeting, the man was first-rate material.

—Thwack! Tatang!

Go Hyeon-woo once again turned the baton aside with his scabbard. Even with her attack stopped, Han So-mi bored in deeper still, aiming to jab the baton's grip into his temple. Go Hyeon-woo answered by knocking her wrist upward with his free hand and whipping his elbow around in a counterstrike.

"!!"

At a range so close their faces nearly touched, fists, hands, baton, scabbard, knees, and elbows tangled in a dizzying blur. This time it was Han So-mi who gave ground. In the ultra-close-quarters brawl, Go Hyeon-woo seemed to be a cut above.

—Clunk.

Four silver spent. The slot machine had spat out another dud. Though I supposed I could call it an improvement that it had at least spared me another bottle of water this time.

Two pulls left.

The slot machine was one of the casino's signature games. Because of that, players who stumbled onto this hidden event tended to assume the whole thing came down to luck. Better to save your silver for later than fritter it away on an uncertain gamble — or so the thinking went.

But there was one fact they didn't know. This slot machine had what was known as a 'ceiling' — a pity threshold that guaranteed the top-tier reward.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The 6th pull. The 30th. The 100th. Anything past thirty was all but impossible without a merchant-type skill, so my target was the ceiling on the 6th pull.

And that 6th-pull ceiling was a sly piece of design in its own right: the entire fortune a player was given at the start of the game came to exactly 5 silver. Charge in blind, and even going all-in would leave you short of the ceiling — all for want of knowing that one more silver was all it took.

Which was precisely why I had borrowed that 1 silver from Go Hyeon-woo ahead of time.

I pulled the lever for the fifth time, then glanced over at the two of them for a moment — baton and scabbard locked in fierce, unrelenting exchange—

—Clunk.

A two-match doesn't come up often. A drink that modestly increased one's mana. Not a jackpot, but an unexpected windfall all the same. I'd call that fairly decent luck.

And now — the long-awaited ceiling. Unlike the previous five times, I felt the faintest edge of tension as I fed in the coin and pulled the lever. The reels spun fast, the symbols whipping past in a blur.

As long as it's not [Adorable Deadly Poison]. There were three top-tier rewards, and [Adorable Deadly Poison] was the one I had no use for at the moment. It would mean surrendering it to the Disciplinary Committee — as good as kissing my entire 6-silver investment goodbye.

Still, two out of three isn't bad.

—Whirrrr—

Before long, the three rapidly spinning reels began to slow, stopping one by one to reveal their results.

There it is.

—Clunk.

The item that dropped out was a small glass vial. Inside were ice crystals about the size of star candies. Except every last one of those crystals was pitch-black, which lent the whole thing an oddly sinister air.

"You can't take that one."

The Han So-mi who said it carried herself in a way that was worlds apart from everything before. Until now she had dealt with us good-naturedly, all bright smiles, and her bout with Go Hyeon-woo had felt like a friendly spar. Now she was as grave as someone who had come face-to-face with a mortal enemy.

Which made sense: before, we had only been about to break the rules. Now we were breaking them in real time.

Han So-mi stepped closer and held out her hand.

"Hand it over."

"Don't want to."

I answered with a grin. If I'd meant to hand it over nicely, I would never have started in the first place.

And as if to second my sentiment, Go Hyeon-woo stepped into her path once more.

"……"

Han So-mi apparently decided that words were wasted on us; she lifted the three-section baton to center guard. It was a stance she had taken over and over during the spar with Go Hyeon-woo — but this time, the air in the train car seemed to freeze over, cold and sharp.

She was beginning to build her momentum in earnest.

A moment later, Han So-mi's figure blurred — and vanished from sight.

"!"

Go Hyeon-woo hastily raised his scabbard — and in the instant a single streak of light seemed to flash—

—CLAAANG!!

"Nnghk…!"

The blow was on an entirely different plane; Go Hyeon-woo's figure skidded sideways. He had managed to stop the attack, but the price was a hairline crack running through his scabbard.

Go Hyeon-woo re-anchored his stance and stoked his strength once more,

—CLAAANG!!

and barely turned aside Han So-mi's strike a second time.

His [Core] is falling a little short.

Mana still rose in thick streams from Han So-mi's baton, while what seeped from Go Hyeon-woo's scabbard was so faint it seemed ready to gutter out at any moment. It meant Han So-mi's [Core] rank was higher than his.

I asked, as casually as I could manage:

"Can't hold out much longer?"

"Honestly… I fear it will be difficult."

Go Hyeon-woo, it seemed, understood his own weakness with perfect clarity. As well as the fact that, as things stood, his chances of winning were vanishingly slim.

But there was still one card left to show.

Before long, the mana flowing from the scabbard burned far more fiercely.

Go Hyeon-woo must have sensed the power boiling up from his dantian as well, for he turned to look at me with startled eyes. I gave him a small nod.

"Hold out just a little longer."