To be honest, he was disappointed.
Lacking internal energy was understandable, assuming they had never properly learned martial arts, but why were their lower bodies so frail?
‘They don’t even have the absolute basics down.’
To check a person’s basic constitution or vessel, they needed to at least possess a sturdy bone structure capable of containing energy or a spirit they could exude.
But what was this…
Every single one of them was just a pebble rolling in the dirt; he couldn’t even tell which one was a rough gemstone even if he cracked them open.
‘Furthermore.’
What was with those eyes?
Their very essence was different from the people in Murim.
Over there, even if they lacked skill, their eyes held a madness to survive and a hunger for martial arts…
These kids just looked innocent.
Annoyance, irritation, and arrogant glares—to Kang Hyeon, they all just looked cute.
Gulp, gulp.
He drank more whiskey.
If he drank to relieve pain before, this time he was drinking out of sheer frustration.
He had to stop Asura, who was trying to destroy the world, with these weak kids?
“Hoo.”
His long exhale carried the heavy scent of alcohol.
‘Still, let’s think positively.’
You never know, right?
There might be someone with the perfect constitution among them.
* * *
In contrast, Cha Yusik’s eyes narrowed.
‘What is this?’
He couldn’t understand it.
If someone had learned martial arts, they naturally exuded a distinct momentum.
Even a C-rank Hunter emitted an aura noticeably different from an ordinary person.
‘However.’
He couldn’t feel any momentum from the professor standing before him.
In cases like this, it was one of two things.
Either his realm was so unfathomably high that he completely concealed his energy, or he was just an ordinary person who had never learned anything.
Cha Yusik had experienced the former.
‘Father.’
When he met Cha Harang alone, he occasionally felt that kind of foreign sensation.
‘No way.’
Was that guy with messy hair reeking of alcohol an S-rank Hunter?
Nonsense.
There were only seven S-rank Hunters in South Korea.
Cha Yusik had met all of them at least once by his father’s side.
‘The rumors were right.’
He was a parachute forced in by the Management Bureau.
Just what on earth was he?
What was he that both the Management Bureau and the Dean were trying to protect him?
Did he have backing from the President or something?
‘The Dean is disappointing too.’
They said he was an upright, incorruptible martial artist, but it seemed those were nothing but fleeting rumors.
To hand over a teaching position to such an incompetent man, steeped in dirty politics.
“Professor.”
Cha Yusik stepped forward and opened his mouth.
Though he despised the man inwardly, he maintained polite courtesy outwardly.
Even as a contract hire, the man held the title of professor, after all.
“You wrote this on the syllabus. You teach how to get stronger. The prerequisite is ‘Those prepared to die’.”
His voice echoed through the training ground.
“But I dare to ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Do you truly believe you have the ability to make us stronger?”
The eyes of the cadets, who were holding their breath at the bold provocation, widened.
Kwak Dojin, watching the situation from behind, also nodded with a scoff.
‘Cha Yusik really is a madman.’
The other cadets also felt a strange sense of satisfaction at his words.
‘He isn’t wrong.’
‘What kind of professor did he expect to be looking like a complete wreck anyway.’
‘If he wants us to be prepared to die, shouldn’t he prove himself first?’
They might be cadets on the verge of expulsion, but they still carried the pride of being students at the National Hunter Academy.
They had absolutely no desire to bow down to an unidentified contract professor.
And Cha Yusik had scratched that exact itch perfectly.
Only one person.
Only Yoon Hyeonjong was looking at Kang Hyeon with a worried expression.
Yet Kang Hyeon still wore an indifferent expression.
“So, what is your point?”
“Prove it.”
Tap.
Cha Yusik lightly patted his scabbard at his waist.
“If you set such a grandiose condition, shouldn’t you be able to easily subdue at least one student here? Even if you are a contract hire.”
“Hmm.”
Kang Hyeon stared blankly at Cha Yusik before letting out a chuckle.
“I thought I had gathered a bunch of tuck-tailed mutts, but there was a bastard who knew how to bark.”
Cha Yusik’s brow furrowed.
Just as his temper flared at an attitude he couldn’t decipher as praise or mockery.
Clang!
A sword was drawn from Kang Hyeon’s waist.
It was a mass-produced iron sword that you might find in a cheap neighborhood weapon shop.
‘He draws it without hesitation?’
Cha Yusik’s pupils trembled slightly.
Usually, at this point, a professor would assert some pathetic authority or fumble with excuses.
But this man was different.
What was even more shocking.
‘I lost the trajectory for a brief moment.’
The draw was too fast.
If that shabby iron sword had flown toward his neck instead of thin air…
‘I would have been cut.’
His head would have rolled before he even realized the sword was drawn.
Tension gripped Cha Yusik’s face for the first time.
Of course, Kang Hyeon had drawn it without thinking, but there was no way Cha Yusik could know that.
Kang Hyeon did not look at Cha Yusik.
He lowered the tip of his drawn sword toward the ground.
Scraaape!
He drew a long line across the sandy floor of the training ground.
Toward the twenty cadets frozen in place, wondering what he was doing, Kang Hyeon finally spoke.
“You must be the ones to prove it, not me.”
The moment he raised the whiskey bottle and poured the remaining liquor down his throat.
Rumble!
A horrific killing intent erupted from Kang Hyeon’s entire body, swallowing the training ground like a tidal wave.
“…Gasp!”
“K-Kuugh!”
The oppressive feeling was as if all oxygen had evaporated instantly.
Cha Yusik, Kwak Dojin, and the cadets behind them instinctively stepped back.
It felt as though the professor’s sword would sever their necks at any given moment.
“This is exactly the killing intent of a first-rate.”
A faint smile hung on the professor’s lips.
“Cross over. I will give you ten minutes.”
The course prerequisite.
Those prepared to die.
“Those who cross this line are qualified to receive my teachings, but those who cannot may turn around and leave right now. You need never attend my class again.”
In Murim, if he announced he was taking disciples, martial artists from both righteous and demonic factions would have brought all sorts of elixirs and treasures to bow their heads.
Compared to that, these kids were incredibly lucky.
They only had to cross this single line to grasp a heavenly fortune!
‘Let’s see it.’
The absolute minimum will to seize this fortune for free.
* * *
One minute passed.
A suffocating silence hung over the training ground.
No one took a single step forward.
No, they couldn’t.
“Gasp, huff…”
“S-Spare me…”
“Please.”
More than half had already collapsed, their legs giving out.
From between the legs of a few bastards, a damp liquid trickled down and soaked the sand.
They had wet themselves.
It was merely first-rate energy, but there was no way greenhouse flowers could endure the true killing intent of a man who had rolled in Murim for twenty years.
“Tsk.”
Just as Kang Hyeon clicked his tongue bitterly.
Scrape.
A heavy scrape against the sand broke the silence.
His gaze turned toward the source of the sound.
Someone was taking a step forward.
Surprisingly, the first to move wasn’t Cha Yusik or Kwak Dojin, but Yoon Hyeonjong, who was standing in the corner of the training ground.
‘Ho?’
Kang Hyeon’s eyes curled with amusement.
He remembered.
The guy whose blood points were twisted not too long ago.
‘I thought he had an average bone structure back then.’
As expected, you had to strike a person to know them.
Only by hammering them as if to break them could you know if they contained easily crumbling clay or steel that showered sparks.
“Kuggh.”
Despite having a face as pale as a blank sheet of paper, the kid was walking straight forward.
He knew how much courage the boy was mustering to do that.
The next to move was Cha Yusik.
His two eyes were dyed with shock and astonishment.
‘I can’t breathe.’
A momentum that felt like his skin was being sliced with every step!
Cha Yusik had experienced a killing intent similar to this only once.
‘Father.’
When he lost a guild member in a dungeon, it was exactly this momentum.
No, rather, in terms of sheer viciousness, that man was a step above.
Then the conclusion was drawn.
‘That man is an S-rank Hunter.’
He wasn’t an incompetent parachute, but a being the Management Bureau and the Dean had planted in the Academy, hiding his identity for some reason.
Cha Yusik bit his lip.
Honestly, the reason he had acted out was that the professors were barely A-rank.
Because he thought there was less to learn here than at his guild.
But if the man in front of him was an S-rank?
‘That changes everything.’
He had to learn.
Rather, this was an opportunity.
Because the Dean, the only S-rank at the Academy, did not teach students.
‘I will go in first.’
Step.
Staring at Yoon Hyeonjong’s back walking ahead, he forcefully moved his stiffened legs.
And behind him.
“Hold… on, ah, fuck! This is wrong… Ugh!”
Kwak Dojin was face-planted on the ground, trembling uncontrollably.
He was endlessly spewing curses from his mouth, but his body wouldn’t move.
Mad Dog?
What Mad Dog in the world tucks its tail in the face of death.
Currently, he was just a mutt crawling on the floor wanting to live.
In his head, he wanted to jump up and run out immediately, but his legs had absolutely no strength.
‘I’m going crazy, I’m really losing it…’
As Kwak Dojin was consumed by fear, Yoon Hyeonjong entered his sight.
The 20th-term junior whose collar he had grabbed just moments ago.
‘This is insane. That guy is going?’
Instantly, Kwak Dojin’s face flushed bright red.
He was terrified.
His heart still felt like it would burst just looking at the professor’s eyes.
However, he was embarrassed.
The junior bastard he had dismissed as a weakling was walking upright, yet he, who carried the title of senior, was sprawled on the floor?
‘I can’t allow that.’
Kwak Dojin gritted his teeth once more and pushed off the ground.
He lacked the strength to stand.
So he crawled.
Scrape, scrape.
Cold sweat poured like rain, but he tenaciously crawled toward the line.
Kang Hyeon watched the sight as if it were unexpected.
‘There are quite a few more interesting guys than I thought.’
His appearance was miserable and wretched, but such stubbornness was also one of the talents a martial artist must possess.
And.
‘There is no such thing as saving face in front of the Demon God.’
When Asura descended, countless masters who commanded Murim either went mad or took their own lives.
In contrast, the only ones who fought back to the very end were the vicious bastards who had rolled in the mud.
‘Ho.’
Kang Hyeon’s gaze shifted slightly to the side.
Behind the crawling Kwak Dojin, he saw two more silhouettes dragging their trembling bodies, desperately trying to move.
Kang Hyeon was honestly surprised.
He thought maybe one guy, or no one at all, would cross.
But five were moving?
Kang Hyeon’s lips curved into an arc.
Perhaps choosing this Academy was a good decision after all.
‘Five out of twenty isn’t bad.’
Before long, ten minutes had passed, and the killing intent crushing the training ground scattered.
“Gasp, huff!”
“Cough, cough!”
The number of people who crossed the line was exactly five
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