Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Episode 001 (2)
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“...?”
He turned his head and saw a boy dressed in the same gray training uniform, holding a broom in one hand and a bucket in the other, looking down at him.
The boy had a rough, intimidating face at first glance, with striking red curly hair and freckles.
And his size—exaggerating just a bit, he was at least two heads taller than Kuhn right now...
Even compared to the other trainees, his build was a full handspan bigger. Kuhn narrowed his eyes and scanned the guy from head to toe.
'This guy...?'
He was familiar.
The one who bragged about being Iron Fist, the leader of the beggar gang under the Belz River bridge, picking on weaker trainees.
His name was...
'Barison, was it?'
In the meantime, the guy who'd locked eyes with Kuhn strode over confidently and opened his mouth.
One corner of his mouth curved up—he must've thought Kuhn was scared stiff just standing there.
“It's nothing big...”
He shrugged as he reached Kuhn in an instant and continued.
“I'm on bathroom cleaning duty in the training grounds today... and I figure you could handle it for me, right?”
He was beating around the bush, but it boiled down to doing his chores—or else.
Kuhn let out a scoff and shook his head.
'...Hah.'
With his frail body, he'd figured something like this might happen eventually.
But still...
He hadn't expected it to come quite this soon.
It'd only been about a month since Lion’s Den started, yet they already saw him as an easy mark.
Suddenly, Kuhn glanced down at himself and chuckled wryly.
'Though I guess this scrawny frame makes it understandable...'
Even so, it soured his mood. He flicked his gaze around.
Sure enough, all eyes were glued to him and the guy.
A rare spectacle had popped up, and everyone looked hooked.
Meanwhile, the brute kept yapping.
“You can do it for me, yeah? Between us, this ain't a big deal, right?”
He even slung an arm around Kuhn's shoulder like some back-alley thug.
Kuhn wiggled his fingers and muttered.
'What to do.'
The guy was a hulking trainee, two heads taller—overwhelmingly bigger.
Any other trainee might've already handed over the broom and bucket without a fight.
But...
'I can't just roll over.'
He had to keep living in Lion’s Den for the foreseeable future, with no escape plan.
Backing down now would invite this crap over and over.
Better to make an example of this one.
'Show them—'
That he...
'—isn't easy prey.'
Sure, if more came after, that'd be their problem... Lost in thought, Kuhn smirked without realizing.
'Feels kinda nostalgic.'
With that, a old rumor surfaced in his mind.
That Loberian Dun Bringer had modeled his Black Fox training on Lion’s Den.
'Back then, I just brushed it off...'
But facing something similar now, it felt plausible.
Of course, not identical.
Lion’s Den raised heirs for the family...
'While Loberian's fox den was built to breed hunting dogs from the start.'
Disposable hounds versus the next generation's pillars—they weren't the same.
Plus, unlike Loberian as a mere heir candidate, this was fully backed by the entire Jordic Family.
'No way they're the same.'
Still, the atmosphere matched enough to deny. Kuhn looked up slowly.
“Cool, thanks a ton, buddy. You got it?”
The guy was already shoving the bucket and broom at him, turning away. Kuhn spoke up.
“I don't think I was on cleaning duty today?”
“...?”
“If you're looking for a lackey to do your chores, maybe scout someone else now?”
At least...
“I'm not interested.”
It was provocative enough to halt the brute's retreat.
.
.
“What'd you say?”
Before Kuhn finished, the guy whipped around.
His smug grin was long gone—his face twisted like a raging orc's, ugly with fury.
Shock, confusion, irritation.
All sorts of emotions must've been boiling in his head. Barison glared at Kuhn and spat.
“What was that?”
He bulged his eyes and pressed.
“Huh? What'd I say?”
His massive palm thudded against Kuhn's chest repeatedly.
Each heavy shove rocked Kuhn's body up and down... If it were those Belz River bridge kids, they'd be sweating bullets, averting eyes, or begging forgiveness already.
But Kuhn wasn't from there.
He didn't even know where the Belz River was—and threats didn't faze him.
“What'd you say—!!”
Unable to hold back, a furious roar erupted.
The ear-ringing noise grated; Kuhn grimaced, digging in one ear, and replied.
“Bragging about your beggar gang roots, but did a failed panhandle leave you deaf? Guess you couldn't catch on.”
“...What?”
Even raging Barison blinked in stunned disbelief.
But Kuhn wasn't done.
“If you need a favor, act like the beggar boss you boast about—bring a begging bowl and plead.”
Vitriol so sharp, no one'd believe it came from a kid.
The air froze briefly—then giggles leaked from the crowd.
“Wh-what?”
Humiliated in front of everyone? His face flushed beet red and purple amid the laughs.
“You little shit, did you bang your head during training—!!”
Before the bellow finished—whoosh!
“—or what!!”
His fist rocketed toward Kuhn's face.
Whoosh!
True to Iron Fist, a massive knuckles scarred with calluses, fist-sized as his own face.
Even Kuhn in this body would've been pulped taking it head-on!
Right then.
All watching eyes widened.
—Whoosh, thwack!
.
.
“...Guh?”
A pained grunt, and Barison's bulk staggered back.
A dull impact echoed clearly, but the one reeling wasn't Kuhn—it was the attacker.
“Guhh?”
Blood streamed from his smashed nose; he clutched it, groaning.
“Guhhh...”
At his feet rolled a familiar bucket—who knew when it'd flown.
Kuhn had hurled it straight at Barison's charging face.
“You little shit... with a bucket...?”
Realizing late, he looked up.
Face and nose swollen red, he geared up to curse again.
But Kuhn had vanished from the spot long ago.
“Wha—huh?”
Thud-thud-thud!
Barison yelped in panic at Kuhn's sudden rush!
“Eek!”
He swung a desperate fist, but too slow—too big, too full of openings.
Sure enough, it whiffed air, whoosh!
Feeling the air whoosh past his ear, Kuhn whipped the broom in his hand at blinding speed.
Like slashing a sword diagonally upward, striking between ribs and side!
Crack!
“Gack!”
Searing pain bent the brute like a sickle.
But Kuhn didn't stop. Instead of halting, he spun inside the collapsing guard.
Thud-thud-thud!
A merciless barrage hammered his whole body.
Crack, crack, crack!
Each spin brought heavy, resounding impacts without pause.
“Gack, guh-gack!”
Barison couldn't even dream of countering, just spewing groans.
“—Uh.”
“Uwaa!”
Overwhelming—explosive onslaught.
Some kids squeezed their eyes shut at the brutal sight.
But Kuhn's assault wasn't over.
The broom swung down from above like his stance vanished.
This time, low and targeting ankles—the lower body.
Sweeping the floor with his toes, kicking ankles and insteps.
Whoosh, snap!
“Guk!”
A sharp jolt toppled his already crooked frame.
“Th-this?!”
Finally aware, he flailed arms for balance... too late.
Thud— Kuhn confirmed the fall and pounced.
One foot stomped the chest; broom tip pressed under the jaw.
“I told you—go find someone else.”
Voice as icy as his glare.
All in the blink of an eye.
.
.
Pat-pat...
Dusting off his uniform, Kuhn glanced around.
The stares encircling him had chilled.
Like dumping a bucket of ice water over the area.
Those snickering at his taunts earlier.
Those watching eagerly for the outcome.
Not one dared speak.
The shock of it all.
Kuhn smirked inwardly.
'Well, exaggerating a bit, it was a fight between guys nearly twice his size...'
No one here expected him to win.
If he didn't know better, he'd bet on the brute too.
'Doesn't mean I'll volunteer for the circus, though—'
He shrugged and strolled off casually.
“...”
Silence followed for a beat.
Then murmurs broke out.
“D-Does that even make sense?”