Chapter 135 – Suspicion (６)

To go this far.

Gijun felt a flicker of unease as he watched the Water Dragon Kim Myeonghwan had cast.

It had only been a fleeting moment, but Gijun understood what Kim Myeonghwan had done to use that spell.

He’d taken a drug that forcibly amplified his mana.

Of course, Gijun had no intention of making an issue of it.

That drug was sometimes used even during raids.

It wasn’t illegal from the start.

The real problem, though, was that he’d used magic far beyond what his body could handle.

Forcing a caster to channel that level of power would inevitably wreck their body.

It meant Kim Myeonghwan was that consumed by spite.

‘Fine. If that’s how it is, I’ll counter him too.’

He had no intention of backing down.

Nor did he plan to take it easy, worrying about Kim Myeonghwan’s health while half-heartedly parrying his attacks.

This was simply Kim Myeonghwan’s choice.

‘To the absolute limit.’

Gijun pulled his mana up as well.

Every drop of mana he could currently command.

Alongside the colossal mana churning around Kim Myeonghwan, a violent surge of power erupted from Gijun’s own body.

Crack! Crash! Boom!

The two forces of mana slammed together in a brutal collision.

A Water Dragon soon revealed itself, taking shape around Kim Myeonghwan.

And around Gijun, Fireballs began to materialize.

The orbs merged into one, then warped into a new form.

Kwaaaaah!

The Great Spear — one of Gijun’s most beloved Skills.

It spun savagely in the air, tearing at the atmosphere around it and unleashing a thunderous, rending howl.

At that moment, the Water Dragon’s maw opened, brimming with intense, shimmering mana.

It was about to unleash a breath attack.

But Gijun had no intention of letting that happen.

Even before the creature’s breath could explode forth, Gijun moved the Great Spear first.

[Kwaaoooooooh!]

The Water Dragon roared back as if refusing to yield.

Just as a powerful Water Breath was on the verge of erupting from deep within its gullet—

Flash!

A single line of golden light drew itself across the air.

“…!”

“….”

In that instant, a silence so absolute fell over the arena that not even a breath could be heard.

The only sound filling the Colosseum was the piercing shriek of the spear slicing through the void.

And then, finally.

The Great Spear, spinning with relentless fury, split the air and pierced straight through the Water Dragon’s chest.

Crunch!

“…Ah.”

A short gasp of dismay escaped.

It came from none other than Kang Baeyeong — the guild master of Cheolgun.

And then—

Kwaaaaaaang!

The spear, having impaled the Water Dragon’s chest, erupted in a massive explosion.

At the same moment, the Water Dragon’s colossal form twisted and scattered into dust.

“Th-they’re insane!”

“He’s crazy!”

“Waaaaaah!”

A moment later, with the Water Dragon completely gone, a thunderous roar erupted from the cadets who had been watching in stunned silence.

[Gulp…]

The announcer, still frozen with his mouth to the microphone, swallowed hard.

“Th-the… the winner is… Superhuman Baek Gijun!”

“Woooooaaaah!”

The announcer’s declaration of victory echoed once more, ringing through the Colosseum.

“Uueeugh!”

That was when Kim Myeonghwan vomited.

A sickly mass of blood-flecked bile.

“M-medical team! Someone call the medical team, please!”

Kang Baeyeong shouted urgently at the sight, and the medical team waiting on standby rushed over to Kim Myeonghwan, supported him, and disappeared with him.

“Haah…”

After watching that, Gijun let out a deep breath.

‘I won.’

He looked down at his own hands.

His palms were slick with sweat.

Not just his hands, either.

His entire body was already drenched through with sweat.

‘Still, it feels refreshing.’

But he wasn’t tired at all.

Instead, he felt light and, at the same time, invigorated.

Crack!

Gijun clenched his fist tight.

He’d done it.

He had taken down Kim Myeonghwan, and now it felt like he could finally shake off every last regret and lingering attachment to the past.

‘From now on, it’s only forward.’

He would never look back again.

Having fully reconciled with his past self, Gijun felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Just then, two people walked over from the other side.

It was Woo Jimin and Park Jangho.

“…You’ve really been through a lot.”

Park Jangho said.

“Ah, Principal.”

Gijun scratched the back of his head.

Because it felt pretty awkward having Park Jangho speak to him so respectfully.

“I was deeply moved. I truly never imagined… that Mr. Gijun would grow this much.”

“…Thank you.”

“And let me say this on behalf of everyone—thank you for showing these kids something great.”

At that, Gijun raised his gaze to the spectator stands.

“….”

The cadets were cheering, their eyes fixed on him.

Some of them were even crying.

He had no idea why they were shedding tears just looking at him….

“Some of them will surely nurture new dreams after seeing you, Mr. Gijun. Dreams like becoming a Superhuman as amazing as you, becoming the strongest Superhuman who fights monsters and devotes themselves to humanity’s safety.”

“…Ah.”

A short gasp escaped Gijun’s lips.

That was exactly what he had always thought.

Watching the Superhumans on high, he had dreamed of becoming one of them someday, refusing to give up on the path of being a Superhuman.

“Now you stand in that position too, Mr. Gijun. You’ve become a role model for others, and at the same time, a top-tier Superhuman standing shoulder to shoulder with the world’s greatest.”

“Thank you.”

Gijun expressed his gratitude once more.

Then Woo Jimin approached him and spoke.

“See? My choice was never wrong. Keep going with me from now on, okay?”

“Yes. Of course.”

The two of them smiled at each other.

And soon, the next event began.

It was a meeting between Gijun and the cadets.

In other words, a fan meeting.

*

“It was seriously epic, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t you think he’s actually kinda good-looking too?”

Gijun left the Academy after finishing all his schedules.

But the cadets still lingering at the Academy couldn’t shake off the afterglow.

“Is that guy really the one with that Mana Circle Formation Disorder thing or whatever?”

“That’s what they say~.”

“He’s genuinely so cool.”

“I know, right.”

“You shouldn’t go around doubting people.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Here, take a look at this.”

“Ah….”

The cadets shared the videos and articles that had once condemned or doubted Gijun.

None of them could question his skill any longer.

Hadn’t he just proven it right before their eyes?

The way he’d overwhelmed Kim Myeonghwan—a Superhuman already renowned as a veteran—in the blink of an eye.

“He downed a Mana Booster at the end there, right?”

“Obviously. He was forcing out an 8th-Circle spell.”

“And Jun just dismantled it in one go?”

“That’s what makes it insane.”

What’s more, Gijun had reverse-cast the 8th-Circle spell Kim Myeonghwan had channeled through the Mana Booster in an instant.

It meant he was playing circles around Kim Myeonghwan—literally.

Clear proof of a strength that defied comparison.

“I mean, yeah, the Third Gate had its own Gimmick, but who’s still gonna claim Baek Gijun just rode a bus¹ through?”

“No kidding. That’s total bullshit.”

At this point, no one could keep doubting him.

Even if the Third Gate had been cleared via some low-difficulty Gimmick, it no longer mattered.

Gijun had proven his ability—without a shred of doubt—in front of everyone.

Even now, praise for him kept pouring in from all sides.

And naturally, the outcome of this sparring match directly shaped perceptions of the two guilds.

“You know that, right? How Hwarang backed Baek Gijun hard before his name was even known?”

“I know. When I first read that article, I thought Hwarang had lost their minds.”

“Probably everyone felt that way. What other guild would push a Superhuman with no record and no name, bouncing between guilds?”

“They saw the potential and backed him.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Exactly—that’s what makes Hwarang great. Everyone knows the stories about Woo Jimin.”

“True.”

Hwarang and Woo Jimin.

A guild that never spared investment where there was potential.

And so, talented Superhumans at the Academy naturally found themselves dreaming of Hwarang.

“I’m definitely going to Hwarang.”

“I was actually planning on Ure, but yeah—I think Hwarang’s the better call.”

“I was considering going abroad, but maybe staying in Korea is the smarter move….”

Even cadets already ranked near the top were reconsidering their paths.

After all, Hwarang had unearthed a rough gem named Gijun and shaped him into a world-class Superhuman—who wouldn’t covet that?

“…I want to join Hwarang too.”

“Starting today, I’m really going to push myself.”

“Someday, I’ll get into Hwarang and go on a Raid with Master Baek Gijun.”

Those still lacking in grades stoked their resolve.

Watching the scene, a smile lingered on Park Jangho’s lips.

Just as he’d said, Gijun was becoming a role model for many at the Academy—a source of inspiration and powerful motivation.

But then.

“…Hm?”

Someone was running toward them from across the grounds.

It was the Academy’s vice principal.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, it’s….”

“Go ahead. Speak.”

“The Cheolgun side is in an uproar right now.”

He let out a sigh.

“They’re threatening to cut off sponsorship immediately…”

“It can’t be helped. I’ll try to smooth things over.”

There was no other way.

After all, running the Academy required enormous funds, and Cheolgun’s sponsorship held a weight that couldn’t be ignored in that balance.

“But…”

Yet the Vice Principal’s words weren’t finished.

“What else is there?”

“Just a moment ago, the Hwarang side sent word. They’re increasing their sponsorship amount. And The Genesis also sent news that they’ll continue supporting the Academy from now on.”

“…Huh?”

Park Jangho’s eyes went wide.

“No, what does that…”

Leaving aside Hwarang raising their sponsorship, why in the world would The Genesis sponsor this Academy?

“According to their message, White Wood pressured Brad. Apparently, he said he’d leave The Genesis if they didn’t sponsor Baek Gijun’s alma mater, or something along those lines.”

“Ha, hahaha…!”

Laughter burst from Park Jangho’s mouth.

This, too, was a ripple that started from Gijun.

“If you factor in the increased sponsorship… even if Cheolgun pulls out, it’ll be enough to cover costs and still leave a little extra.”

At the Vice Principal’s words, Park Jangho’s face brightened.

“If that’s the case, I can breathe a little easier. I’ll have to talk with Cheolgun with a relatively light heart. I’ll take my leave now.”

And with that, Park Jangho moved.

Toward his own office.

It really has been nothing short of a nuisance.

All this time, Cheolgun had tried to sway the Academy using their sponsorship as leverage.

Park Jangho’s convictions had kept Cheolgun from seizing control of the Academy, but it was never an easy battle for him.

Cheolgun had already placed their people in various positions within the Academy.

But now, things were different.

He could finally unload one of the burdens weighing on his heart.

“…What a truly grateful disciple I have.”

He once again offered thanks to Gijun, if only inwardly.

1. Bus — Korean gaming slang: a stronger player “drives the bus,” carrying weaker players through content for easy rewards. “Riding the bus” means being carried.