Dark Horse
A name, more often than not, represents the most essential essence of a being. Most of the time, people give names without thinking, but the world is full of cases where individuals end up following the meaning of that name. Fighters who kept swinging their fists and chopping off arms all the way to the end, fighting for their goals—the Enduring One¹, they were called. Or performers who climbed ladders for the audience while numbed out on painkillers—the Strong One¹. Something like that...
That's what a name is—a name given with words like, "Carry such noble values..."
"Kyehaek—!!"
"Mm. You're awake. Are you a little more lucid?"
No matter how much the essence was that of a horse, was he really assigning names the way you'd name some random rural mutt—just matching it to the color of the fur?
No matter how generous the horse was, at this point his naming sense was the kind that could make his owner kick him in the back of the head. Considering his existing name had already been hit with several rounds of humiliation and was barely holding on before settling into place.
To the furious horse-girl in front of him, Kim Chomok was truly in a position where he had nothing to say even if he'd been beaten like a dog.
"For fuck's sake, haven't you learned that giving yourself a crappy name makes you live longer?! If you're old, you should at least know that much!"
From Kim Chomok's perspective, who had already taken a beating and passed out, the only apology he could offer was tea and meat sashimi—and even that was pushing it.
For the black horse's part, if the opponent stubbornly raised his head to resist, there was only one option left.
It was a duel judgment that had been passed down since the very beginning of some ancient civilization—a tradition where the victor gets to claim justice.
"Either way, you clearly look older than me. Whether you're a female dog or whatever, let's just see who survives! Hweeeeek—!!"
Kicking off with a surprise front kick aimed at knocking the opponent off balance—wasn't a bad opening move. But...
Phwack!
"Ugh... ahhgwyuk..."
Apparently, if your footwork was that big, you'd just sweep the leg right under you. What a little punk. Starting with a clean strike to the lower abdomen, no hesitation whatsoever—of course.
Thwack!!
"Krrruk...!!"
If you came close, you'd take a powerful push-kick to the joints and lose consciousness from the pain for a moment.
"Aigh, this is such a mess—aaaah!!"
Trying to apply a clinch? Both eyes stabbed without a moment's hesitation—genuine primitive ancient combat martial arts! If you tried to pull some cheap move? It was already far, far too late.
"Ughgurk...!! Just grab the back position and choke the neck, why are you biting the ears?! Aaah!!"
Kim Chomok, who fought by relying on physical specs and had a tendency to brawl, was getting pounded into a pancake. But at least, as the saying goes, the best way to learn is through the body.
As the database folder labeled "Getting Hit" copied its experiences in real time...
Thud!
'...If I make this move, she'll try to sweep my leg and push me off again. I'll grab that foot and hit her!'
The fact that he was starting to pick up on the opponent's movements in real time—even if only a little—was that spirit of "stealing and learning" that masters emphasized before video platforms existed. It was a moving moment pulling itself up from some distant past.
SLAM!
"Got you!! You little shit, I'll slam you right down to the floor!!"
He was attempting a tackle—catching the kick and using the natural weight difference to drag the opponent down to the ground. The combat education injected over a short period seemed to be producing the victory of a primate standing at the apex of ten thousand animals.
But as they say, the most terrifying thing in the world is knowing something vaguely rather than not knowing it at all.
Dink!
Whatever he was surviving on, the tackle failed and instead Kim Chomok kicked back with his foot! He was staggering on the ground in pain, raging against combat methods that no normal human body could perform.
"Huuuuh...!! If I'm grabbing one foot and kicking with the other, what am I standing on, you cheating bastard...!!"
Rolling around on the ground in agony for a moment. But...
Since she'd named him based on his fur color, the declaration that he was currently fighting a beast rather than a person was hard to argue with.
"...Fuck. Why did I give myself a name like that."
The only words a person who had lost on every front—logic, righteousness, strength—could utter were words of regret. Right before the black hoofprint flying toward his nose wiped out the last of the loser's consciousness...
'...Fuck, should I go to a racetrack or something... Who names horses anyway?'
Kim Chomok, who had been thinking useless thoughts, let out a faint laugh.
The next day, when Kim Chomok reported back to the research lab, two unusual things were noticed.
The first was that barely twelve hours had passed since they'd parted ways, yet today's test subject Kim Chomok was covered head to toe in bruises and the aftermath of every kind of impact imaginable. And...
When Jeong Ilhwan arrived carrying the leftover fuel tank from yesterday...
BWAAAANG!! CRASH!!
"Aaahh, jet fuel that costs nearly double! Chomok, what the hell are you doing?!"
One of Kim Chomok's legs, sticking out from his side, had naturally swept the life-giving oil right off the table.
From out of nowhere, a woman in a white dress casually popped out of the bruised Kim Chomok's body. The only other person in that corner of the research lab was the one grandfather on security duty.
Had the battered patient in front of him just given birth to a woman?!
No matter how much ability research was just beginning, who had ever seen a person come out of another person's body? Kim Chomok, the day's patient, sighed deeply and introduced her.
A light explanation about her just sitting down in her spot, not even sure if she was part of his head or his body. Jeong Ilhwan, realizing once again that ability research was a bottomless pit of topics the deeper you dug...
A sudden emergence of something inside a person's body! Anyone could see that if this had come out of a science fiction novel, you'd have to scream either "hug the face!" or "chest explosion criminal!" But the stranger's clothes were stripped off not by a typhoon but by a little sunlight—because if you didn't want to roast, you'd take off your clothes when someone aimed direct sunlight at you.
The one who resolved this unprecedented crisis was not the unyielding Kim Chomok who'd taken a beating and kept talking back. It was the small sun—Jeong Ilhwan—who couldn't feel the cold at all in winter as long as he used his ability.
Jeong Ilhwan, who always kept himself fed and stocked up so he could use his ability at any time, raised his body temperature by burning the calories he'd eaten or the fat stored in his body. You could tell just by looking at his main weapons—napalm launchers, flame throwers, or tungsten rods that generated extreme heat.
Since he normally operated at such high firepower, no matter how well he stocked up, he couldn't fight two battles without any fat reserves—and even that was only for fifteen minutes at most before pulling back to the brink of starvation. To prepare for that "just in case," Jeong Ilhwan always carried a bag packed to the brim: cookies made with chocolate and whole wheat, energy gels for hiking or running, energy bars, and in the worst case, "energy blocks"—emergency rations meant for life rafts or boats.
"Here, would you like one? It's a chocolate whole wheat cookie."
And, as anyone can see just by looking at the fact that all delicious things tend to be high in calories, the awkward atmosphere was defused when a casually offered cylindrical snack pack caused a huge commotion.
Crunch!
He hadn't expected the snack to cause this much of a stir.
Fighting while eating proper food on a battlefield—you'd have to go at least as far back as World War II for that. And even in World War II, they gave soldiers "chocolateⁿ" that was barely edible as emergency rations instead of proper tasty combat rations, so you can tell just how bad things were. Even further back, people literally ate to survive—unless you were nobility, the idea of getting sugar on a battlefield was a pipe dream.
Kim Chomok, who had been a bum inside his own body and whose cortisol output was as different as heaven and earth compared to when he was fighting internal civil wars, spoke up.
—If you answer my questions sincerely, how about I let you eat as much of whatever food you want?
It was the moment he fell into the sweet taste of modern civilization, deceived by his own landlord.