The circle had been drawn. No weapons. No escape.
Only fists, skill… and pride.
The moment Baek Mu-Gi lowered his hand, the three stepped into motion slowly circling each other, waiting for the first opening, the first mistake.
Jeong Rak's eyes flicked toward Mae-Bi with mild boredom.
Easy target.
They'd grown up together in this hell.
And Mae-Bi had always been the lazy one. Slow to cultivate. Quiet. Obedient. Forgettable. The kind of guy who stayed in the background to avoid beatings not someone you feared.
But Yuri…
She was different.
Fast. Sharp. Her kicks could break ribs, and she didn't hesitate to aim for the throat.
Deal with her first, he thought. Then squash the rat.
Meanwhile, Han Yuri was thinking the exact same thing but in reverse.
Rak was the problem.
He had been Cho Gwan's unofficial second strong, fast and cocky.
He was all forward pressure, and she'd already seen it in sparring. He left his ribs open when he chased too hard. She just needed to turn his aggression against him.
As for Mae-Bi?
She barely registered him.
He was just… there.
The silent type who folded laundry too slowly and stood in the corner during drills.
He's a background character. I'll finish him when I'm done with Rak.
Across the arena, Baek Mu-Gi watched, his face hidden behind his ceremonial half-mask.
But beneath it?He was smiling not because he enjoyed the fight but because he enjoyed the mistake they were all making.
These two are brimming with talent and ambition… but that one… His gaze settled on Mae-Bi, who still hadn't even moved aggressively.
That one's too calm. Too quiet. Like a knife under the surface. Maybe he's just nothing but maybe… he's a sleeping dragon waiting to tear the roof off this place.
Mae-Bi had already read the room.
Of course they're looking down on me.
He couldn't blame them.
In the past, he was lazy.
Slow to cultivate. Always lagging behind in drills. He used to fake injuries just to avoid missions. He was a ghost in his own squad.
But that was then.
This was a new life.
He kept his expression calm as he whispered in his mind:
"System."
[Yes, my master?]
"How many points to take them down?"
[Estimated: 50 points each. Total: 100.]
Mae-Bi grinned.
"Perfect."
Across the circle, Han Yuri and Jeong Rak squared up.
Neither of them even glanced his way anymore.
Jeong Rak threw the first punch fast and sharp, aimed at Yuri's ribs.
But she was quicker.
She twisted her body mid-step, deflecting his arm with her leg, then spun and launched a brutal upward kick at his chin.
He ducked under it and drove his forehead into her face.
Crack.
Yuri staggered, but didn't fall.
She came back swinging, and the two clashed violently blows flying, feet skidding, neither holding back.
All while Mae-Bi stood perfectly still.
Then the opening came.
They both lunged toward each other again, arms cocked for the next blow—
And Mae-Bi stepped between them.
Effortlessly.
Like a shadow sliding through fire.
Both fighters froze mid-swing, jerking back in surprise.
Jeong Rak cursed. "Tch—what the hell are you doing?!"
Han Yuri's eyes narrowed. "You picked the worst time to play hero, Mae-Bi."
Mae-Bi didn't answer their taunts.
He just stood there, watching them like a teacher disappointed in a loud classroom.
Was this really the level of talent in the Fifth Division?
They'd grown up in hell, same as him. Trained to kill since they could walk. Bled on the same floors. But still they hadn't learned the most basic rule of survival.
Underestimate no one.
Respect every blade, even the dull ones.
That's why they died in his past life.
Still kids… even now.
Jeong Rak's glare sharpened. "Say something, coward."
Mae-Bi rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles one by one.
"Rule number one in the Demonic Cult," he said calmly. "We were trained to kill. Efficiently. Without noise. Without mercy."
He looked at both of them.
"And you still judged me because I looked weak?"
Han Yuri scoffed. "That's because we know you, silly. We grew up in the same hellhole."
Mae-Bi raised a brow. "And is that how you'll treat enemies in the future? Assume they're soft because they don't show their fangs? What'll you do when the 'weak one' slits your throat in your sleep?"
Han Yuri crossed her arms. "You here to lecture or fight, old man?"
Mae-Bi smiled faintly.
She doesn't even know how right she is.
He sighed.
"Fine. No more words."
Some lessons need fists.
Jeong Rak stepped forward, flexing his arms. "Then let's put you down first."
Han Yuri followed, both of them circling him now.
[System active. Target movement detected. Scanning…]
[Combat pattern locked. Mapping field.]
They moved first naturally.
Jeong Rak surged in from the left, low and fast, sweeping for Mae-Bi's front foot in a clean attempt to break his balance.
Han Yuri didn't wait. She curved in from the right, leaping off the incline, twisting mid-air into a spinning side kick aimed directly at his head.
A perfect pincer. Coordinated. Lethal.
But to Mae-Bi? It was textbook thanks to the system he could read their movement easily.
"Tsk you manage to block it" Yuri mutter.
He stepped back once not even hurried his foot landing precisely on the higher edge of the incline.
Rak's sweep missed by a whisper.
Yuri's kick sliced past his cheek with nothing but wind.
She landed off-balance.
That was all he needed.
His hand shot out like a whip, catching her ankle mid-step. A smooth twist not violent, not excessive and her center folded.
Thud.
She hit the dirt hard.
The crowd tensed. A few audible gasps.
Rak smirk "guess she can't even deal with this weakling" and charged with both fists raised.
Jin leaned forward from the Fifth Division's row. "Wait—! Rak, don't—!"
Mae-Bi didn't block.
He pivoted.
A step to the side.
Rak blew past him, overcommitted and that was it.
Mae-Bi's hand snapped to his collar.
Twist. Pull. Leverage.
CRACK!
Jeong Rak's back collided with a wooden dummy so hard the post shook and splinters flew.
The crash rang across the entire field like thunder.
Silence.
Then murmurs. Whispers.
Even assassins from the First Division shifted on their heels.
Jin's jaw hung open.
"…What the hell just happened?"