Chapter 161: The Newcors (3)
Jeong Hyeon had been writhing around dramatically, but she finally snapped back to reality. Her wriggling body suddenly froze mid-motion, and before long, she let out one of her signature weird shrieks while shrinking into herself.
"Hiieek!"
Realizing what a ss she'd made of herself, her face turned redder than humanly possible.
‘She's gonna explode at this rate.’
With the feeling of facing a nearly detonated explosive with a fingernail-sized fuse before detonation, I carefully opened my mouth.
"Are you feeling unwell sowhere?"
"N-n-no, it's n-nothing at all."
She was rambling incoherently, just moving her mouth without any real direction.
"I-in the future, being Young Master's bodyguard will be fun... I an, not that kind of fun, but getting assassination missions from the Dark Shadow Pavilion is fun... well, that would be kinda weird, so... anyway, I-I don't know about future stuff, but I'm worried about the u-upcoming martial tournant."
She didn't look fine at all.
But poking at explosives is extrely dangerous, so I played along with what she was saying.
Dealing with citizens on the verge of a ltdown was sothing I was way too familiar with.
“Hmm. If getting on the stage is burdenso, wouldn’t it be fine to just get off it?”
Since I was planning to do exactly that anyway, it was advice I gave with genuine sincerity.
"Just declare surrender the mont the match starts and walk off the stage."
But for so reason, my advice made her flushed face turn ghostly pale.
"W-wouldn't that be too c-conspicuous? I'm n-not soone like Senior Baek Cheon, Young Master."
"......"
In an instant, I had beco a bastard like Baek Cheon.
***
Just as Il-mok and his peers had received explanations about the exchange match, the new students also heard the news.
"Haaat!"
Thanks to that, a training craze swept through the new students.
It wasn't about beating the seniors.
Sure, winning would be nice, but the new students had already seen the aura radiating from the seniors who'd returned from field training, and it had completely deflated their spirits.
What drove them to throw themselves into training was the sa reason as last year’s cohort.
The carrot dangled in front of them.
Winning or losing, those who showed talent would receive special training from the Hall Master and Vice Hall Master as a reward. They are all talented enough to enroll in the Demonic Way, so that kind of reward was enough to make their eyes roll back in excitent.
After several days of intensive training in preparation for the exchange match, the morning of the event finally arrived. Cheon Su-ryong headed to the training grounds where the tournant would be held alongside his friend.
The new students had gathered in front of Cha Eun-young, their instructor, and beside her stood a wooden board that seed to have appeared out of nowhere.
“Each of you, confirm your opponents for the match!”
Instructor Cha Eun-young pointed at the board and shouted. A large sheet of paper with nas written in order was attached to it.
Reading down the list of nas, Cheon Su-ryong nearly clenched his fist without realizing it.
‘Perfect!’
His na was written at the very bottom of the paper.
[Cheon Su-ryong VS Il-mok]
Together with the na of the Eighth Young Master.
A match against the Eighth Young Master, who at the sa age of sixteen had already made his na known throughout the main headquarters. Cheon Su-ryong couldn't help but feel his competitive spirit surge.
‘It doesn’t matter if I cannot win. Just facing him will teach so much.’
He was filled with curiosity about what kind of man the Eighth Young Master might be, and joy at the opportunity to face off against that famous figure. But then...
Instructor Cha Eun-young's sharp voice pierced his ears.
"Anyone who lacks the motivation to win against their seniors will be expelled from Demonic Way! I will not stand by if anyone steps onto that stage with the weak ntality of simply learning a lesson from a senior! Do you understand!”
Only then did Cheon Su-ryong realize his mistake and respond with a serious tone.
"Yes, ma'am!!"
It wasn't just Cheon Su-ryong. All the other new students had suddenly adopted grave expressions.
They'd already been intimidated by the seniors, but they realized they couldn't fight while accepting defeat.
‘‘That’s right. I will win, no matter what! Without that kind of mindset, I won’t even be able to properly learn a single thing!’
While all the new students were preparing for their matches with determined expressions...
"Did you hear that?"
Chu Il-hwan spoke to the senior students with the swagger of a back-alley thug.
"If any of you idiots get careless and lose to an underclassman, I'll arrange so special training for you. Not the kind from the Hall Master or Vice Hall Master, but the kind where this Chu Il-hwan personally oversees your education."
His lips were curved upward, but black lightning energy was already rippling across both his palms.
It was a blatant threat that he wouldn't let anyone who lost to an underclassman off the hook.
Maybe because of the clash of wills between the two instructors, the atmosphere of the exchange match felt more like the calm before a storm than a festival.
In that tense atmosphere...
"Begin!"
The Senior-Junior Exchange Match started.
***
The event began with matches between the lowest-skilled mbers from both the new students and senior classes.
"Haaat!"
"Heup!"
The blood and sweat of young people giving their all in combat soaked the martial arts stage.
Sweat was one thing, but since they were fighting with real weapons, it was an insane tournant with blood flowing everywhere.
At least it was fortunate that nothing horrific like severed limbs or spilled guts happened.
That was thanks to the instructors stepping in to stop things just before accidents occurred.
In that thick atmosphere heavy with youthful sweat and bloodshed...
"Huaaaam."
Il-mok was yawning his head off.
It wasn't just because the students' skill level was too low. Il-mok wasn't even watching the matches in the first place.
As he yawned widely, Il-mok belatedly ca to a new realization.
‘This exchange match event might not be so bad after all.’
The tournant was just two students fighting in the arena. Students whose turns hadn't co yet were just standing around watching.
In other words, if he limited himself to just one match, all he had to do was laze for an entire two hours and that would be it.
While everyone else was watching the matches with blazing eyes, trying to gain so thread of enlightennt from observing others' fights...
‘Enlightennt my ass.’
Il-mok had zero interest in that kind of thing.
There was no reason to watch the matches, and his turn was still way off.
Finally realizing what he had to do, Il-mok closed his eyes and focused inward.
"Snooore."
Which ant he'd started dozing off while standing.
anwhile...
Cheon Su-ryong had been watching his fellow students' matches against seniors with burning eyes turned his head when he felt a nudge in his ribs.
"Hey."
His friend, who'd poked his ribs, gestured with his chin toward sothing, and Cheon Su-ryong turned to look.
Cheon Su-ryong's brow furrowed. He'd spotted soone sleeping while standing up.
"That's the senior from before, right?"
At his friend's question, Cheon Su-ryong nodded with a furrowed brow.
It was pathetic beyond words. With countless opportunities for enlightennt spread out right in front of him, this senior was just standing there sleeping.
"I have no idea how soone with that kind of mindset even got admitted to the Hall of the Demonic Way."
After spitting out his harsh words, Cheon Su-ryong turned his head back toward the martial arts stage.
He didn't want to waste precious opportunities to observe the seniors' martial arts by paying attention to such an incompetent fool.
But as ti passed, Cheon Su-ryong's gaze kept drifting toward that incompetent senior.
‘...Still?’
Strangely, that senior showed no signs of stepping onto the stage.
Even after more than ten matches had taken place on the stage...
‘Soone like that is in the Upper Class?’
Even when a female senior with scattered spear techniques won her match and shouted weirdly, "Young Master! I did it! Did you see?!"
Even when another female senior with a bow finished her match and imdiately scread "Hiieek!" in that bizarre way, that incompetent senior was still sleeping standing up.
"I'm going."
His friend, who'd gotten a sowhat sour expression, went up to the stage and ca back thoroughly beaten.
"Ohohoho!!"
Even when a female senior with a fan burst into strange laughter while performing exaggerated martial arts movents, that senior was still sleeping standing up.
"Disciple Dokgo Pae and Disciple Deung Ak, step forward!"
And even when it was ti for his fellow student Deung Ak—who'd been admitted as the second-ranked—that senior was still dozing.
Clang!
Clang!
"Uhahaha! Put a little more strength into it!"
Even though Senior Dokgo Pae was shouting throughout the entire match, repeatedly engaging in nothing but brute force contests in the center of the stage, creating explosive sounds one after another...
The match between Deung Ak, who was the second-best among his peers, and Senior Dokgo Pae, who was second among the seniors.
Even from Cheon Su-ryong’s perspective, that fight, which repeated nothing but frontal clashes, was one from which he could learn much.
But Cheon Su-ryong's gaze kept wandering elsewhere.
By this point, even Cheon Su-ryong had to admit it.
‘Could that incompetent-looking senior really be the Eighth Young Master?!’
Thanks to all the rumors he'd heard before entering the Hall of the Demonic Way, the Eighth Young Master in Cheon Su-ryong's imagination was literally a figure embodying the word "perfection."
And yet, to think that the person who had been dozing off while standing over there for two hours was the sa person as that figure in his imagination.
Clang!
"Kuk."
Just then, the match on stage ca to an end.
"Hahaha! Excellent! You have the qualifications to join our Bodybuilding Club!"
As the victorious Senior Dokgo rambled on about sothing, the instructor on the stage gave an order.
"Disciple Cheon Su-ryong and Il-mok, step forward!"
Cheon Su-ryong, who'd been spacing out, snapped back to attention at the instructor's command and began walking.
On the path to the martial arts stage...
On the way to the dueling stage, Cheon Su-ryong’s brain, on the verge of succumbing to a Heart Demon due to the sudden cognitive dissonance, quickly began to rationalize.
‘The smile I saw on the first day, perhaps it was a smile born from composure! Yes. The fact that his cloak alone was clean must also be because his skills are so superior that things like dust do not stick to his clothes!’
The sa actions can look different depending on who's doing them.
That pathetic-looking behavior, when recalled again, seed like the composure of a master.
‘A chance to have a martial arts match with such a master.’
Having completed his self-hypnosis, Cheon Su-ryong raised his head with a serious expression and looked straight ahead.
"Um... Young Master Il-mok? Young Master, it's your turn."
A senior nad Choi Woong was carefully trying to wake up Il-mok, who was still sleeping.
"Huh?"
The Eighth Young Master, who finally opened his eyes, looked around with bleary eyes, then raised his right hand to wipe away the drool that had trickled down around his mouth.
"Huaaaam."
He even yawned lazily and even stretched.
"......"
‘I-Is that… the composure of a master?’
Cheon Su-ryong had to desperately hypnotize himself. Otherwise, he felt like he'd fall to his Heart Demon.
Whether or not he knew his martial opponent was on the verge of Qi Deviation, the Eighth Young Master, still half-asleep, shuffled lazily up onto the martial arts stage.
Fighting against his Demonic Art that kept trying to go haywire, Cheon Su-ryong muttered to himself.
‘It's psychological warfare! Right, psychological warfare! He's definitely trying to make let my guard down!’
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