Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Waiter Hides His Magic (5)

"Scrawny, too—looks like you'll be the first one to wash out of the Demon Path Hall! Ha ha ha."

He barged right into Ha Jin's path and began picking a fight. Every word, every expression, every gesture was blatant provocation.

Ha Jin looked the man over with an expression of sheer disbelief. Then he spotted several cadets in a far corner, huddled down with dark bruises blossoming across their faces. In that instant, he finished reading the situation.

'So these bastards are pulling a territorial hazing routine? Like the military, where the senior enlisted break in the new recruits?'

Say what you will, but Ha Jin was someone who had done his military service before becoming a Hunter. There was no way he wouldn't recognize what was happening.

'Except in the military, it's the senior ranks doing it. These guys are all fellow cadets, aren't they?'

Truly absurd on multiple levels. Ha Jin sighed inwardly. He had wanted to stay quiet and avoid attracting attention, yet here was this needless friction right from the start.

'Should I just roll over? That way I'll look weak, and maybe I'll get dragged into less trouble later?'

But then a different thought came to him. Just as martial artists operated this way, so did Hunters. In clashes between Hunters, if you let yourself be looked down on from the start, you'd have a hard time later.

'No, wait. To maintain amicable relationships, there's no need to be completely submissive. If anything, being too much of a pushover makes it harder to network later. I'll just give him a small taste.'

Ha Jin slowly raised his hand. Then, in a voice so quiet it was almost a murmur to himself, he whispered toward the hulking man.

"Knockback."

The instant his palm lightly touched the man's massive chest—

The man's body lifted off the ground like a feather. His hulking frame sailed through the air and slammed squarely into the far wall of the training yard.

CRAAASH—!

A heavy impact, and the wall splintered into a web of cracks. Dust billowed upward, and a frigid silence settled over the training yard.

"......!"

It had happened in the blink of an eye. One moment, the hulking man had been puffing out his chest and throwing his weight around—the next, he'd been sent flying like a sheet of paper and smashed into the wall. Wait, why did you fly that far?

The other cadets in the training yard stared at Ha Jin in unison and began to murmur, unable to believe what they had just witnessed.

"What the hell is that guy?"

"What did he just do? I didn't even get a good look."

"He didn't even draw his sword! How did he do that?"

Amid the murmuring, bewilderment was laced with a hint of wariness. Ha Jin inwardly wondered if that had been too much, feeling a twinge of regret—but the milk was already spilled.

Right at that moment, two men who appeared to be martial arts instructors sprinted over from one side of the training yard. One of them shouted in a stern voice.

"Cadet Four Hundred! That is enough!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"You dare feign ignorance! You can plainly see the cadet sprawled before you! Even if you are Elder Ghost Hand's disciple, know this—your status from the outside holds no meaning within these walls!"

"......"

"This incident will be overlooked once, as the Demon Path Hall's formal training has not yet begun. But from next time onward, you will be severely punished!"

It was infuriating. But if he talked back, it might only make him stand out in a different way. Left with no choice, Ha Jin bowed his head and answered.

"......I will keep that in mind and exercise caution from now on."

The instructors nodded at Ha Jin's respectful reply and dispersed, issuing warnings to the other cadets as they went.

But after the instructors disappeared, the murmuring in the training yard only grew louder. This time it went beyond mere bewilderment—it was closer to outright shock.

"Ghost Hand's disciple? That guy?!"

"I've never heard of that man taking a disciple......"

The cadets traded astonished glances, stealing looks at Ha Jin one after another. From this moment on, Ha Jin was no longer the faceless Cadet Four Hundred.

He had become the disciple of Ghost Hand—an existence that had caused a stir. The very last thing he wanted.

'Tch. Something's going sideways here, isn't it?'

Ha Jin's brow furrowed. And amid that commotion, slightly removed in a corner of the training yard—

Unlike the other cadets, one was fixed on Ha Jin with an icy gaze, staring right through him.

Her shoulders trembled faintly.

'Ghost Hand's disciple, you say......?'

Without taking her eyes off Ha Jin, the woman murmured under her breath. The air around her seemed to chill and sink.

***

The number assigned to a Demon Path Hall cadet. It was a crucial indicator that represented the cadet's abilities and hinted at their potential standing within the Divine Sect.

And the woman now pinning Ha Jin with a razor-sharp stare from the corner of the training yard—her name was Cheon Ha-rin. The current Sect Leader's one and only treasured daughter.

Cheon Ha-rin had poured herself into proving her abilities within the Demon Path Hall and challenging for the Heavenly Demon's seat. As a result, she had claimed the number one spot with distinction.

In a sense, she had proven herself the closest to the title of Demon Path Hall champion at this moment. What she had inwardly hoped for was, of course, the focused attention of every cadet.

-As expected of the Sect Leader's daughter—what tremendous skill!

-Of course the top cadet would be Lady Cheon Ha-rin!

She had expected admiration and awe like this to fill the training yard.

But reality was different. Not a single person in the training yard mentioned her name.

The title of Cadet Number One, who had topped the admission trials, had been completely overshadowed by the sudden appearance of a mysterious man called "Ghost Hand's disciple," who had monopolized every ounce of attention.

Cheon Ha-rin gazed coldly at Ha Jin in the distance—the one soaking up all the stares that should have been directed at her. His carefree expression, his slightly vacant-looking eyes—everything about him grated on her nerves.

'I don't like him. Not one bit.'

She growled inwardly. Her jawline sharpened as she bit down on her lip.

The situation demanded that she make a strong first impression, yet because of one man whose identity was a complete mystery, all the effort she had invested felt as though it had faded in an instant.

Something subtly different from jealousy—but a clear sense of displeasure and competitive fire—began to burn in her chest.

Cheon Ha-rin kept her gaze locked on Ha Jin, glaring with unmistakable intensity. Her brow creased even deeper.

'What's so great about him that he got to become Ghost Hand's disciple?'

Ghost Hand. Once the Heavenly Demon Divine Sect's foremost assassin. The moment that name surfaced, a scene from a past she had long set aside sprang vividly back to life in Cheon Ha-rin's mind.

Years ago. She had still been a young girl, before she had learned any proper martial arts. There had been an old man she always saw—hair white as snow, yet with eyes that blazed with fierce intensity.

The young Cheon Ha-rin had harbored bold ambitions. The dream of one day succeeding her father and ascending to the Heavenly Demon's seat. To achieve that, she believed she needed to learn from the greatest master, and naturally, the first person she had in mind was Ghost Hand, the Demonic Sect's foremost assassin.

From the generation of the previous Sect Leader onward, Ghost Hand had served the Heavenly Demon Divine Sect—calling him the Sect's greatest warrior would have been no exaggeration.

She had mustered her courage and begged Ghost Hand to accept her as his disciple. But his answer had been firm. Even now, his words remained unforgettable.

-I have no intention of taking anyone as a disciple. Not even for you, my lady.

Ghost Hand had politely declined Cheon Ha-rin's request. No matter that she was the Sect Leader's treasured daughter—his resolve had appeared unshakable.

Cheon Ha-rin had read an unyielding warrior's will in his eyes, and upon realizing she could not press further, she had swallowed her disappointment and withdrawn. The memory was still vivid.

Later, Ghost Hand had severed his own wrist and declared his retirement. It was his way of saying he was done with the life of an assassin. No one in the Sect had been able to stop him.

'And now this man claims to be the retired Ghost Hand's disciple?! After more than ten years, a disciple? That's absurd!'

As memory clashed with the reality before her eyes, a powerful question blazed up in Cheon Ha-rin's heart. If Ghost Hand had intended to take a disciple all along, then why had he refused her?

No matter how she turned it over, she couldn't find a satisfactory answer. Then, suddenly, one plausible reason came to mind.

'Could it have been dissatisfaction with me?'

Perhaps Ghost Hand's eyes that day had held more than a simple refusal to take disciples.

If she had been just a bit more exceptional, would the outcome have been different? That doubt began to gnaw at her heart.

Once the thought took root, her gaze toward Ha Jin grew sharper and more relentless.

'Why? Why did he reject me and accept someone like that—someone who looks so utterly unremarkable? What's so special about him?'

She desperately needed to understand what had made Ghost Hand abandon the long-held conviction he had maintained even through his retirement and choose to take this man as his disciple. Only then would her heart find peace.

An irrepressible impulse surged alongside a peculiar mix of competitive fire and anger that boiled up from deep within her chest. She clenched her fists tight.

'Fine then. I'll see for myself, with my own two eyes, just how impressive your abilities really are.'

***

Seven days and nights later, the first-stage trial would begin—with that announcement from the instructor, the cadets scattered to prepare.

Ha Jin headed straight for a corner of the training yard. His goal was to maximize and refine his sole asset: magic.

'Since coming to this world, I've never had a chance to properly use a wide variety of spells. The basic ones are second nature, but the more complex and powerful magic needs its edge sharpened again.'

He still hadn't found a single lead on how to increase his mana capacity. So training in fire-attribute magic—which offered the greatest destructive power for the most efficient use of mana—was the optimal choice.

As Ha Jin headed to the training yard, Cheon Ha-rin's steps naturally trailed behind him.

From there, she began to watch him from a careful distance. As though determined not to miss a single move he made.

'Is he doing martial arts training?'

Normally, spying on another person's martial arts practice was one of the martial world's gravest taboos.

Observing someone's secret techniques without a master's permission or outside of a proper sparring match was considered a crime serious enough to cost one's life if discovered.

Cheon Ha-rin was well aware of this fact. A pang of conscience as a martial artist pricked at her from within.

But her competitive drive toward Ha Jin forcibly smothered the voice of her conscience.

'It's not like I'm trying to steal his techniques. My own martial arts are obviously far superior anyway. This is just observation. Simple observation.'

Rationalizing it to herself, Cheon Ha-rin focused intently on Ha Jin's every movement. But the more she watched, the stranger it seemed. His body bore almost no traces of prolonged, grueling martial arts training.

Far from lean muscle, his frame was actually slightly thinner than an average person's. His stance looked awkward in places, and his lower body appeared unstable.

'No matter how I look at it, something's off! What about him could have possibly overturned Ghost Hand's decision?!'

Her suspicions deepened further—and then, right at that moment. Ha Jin slowly extended his hand toward a wooden training dummy set up at one side of the yard. And in the next instant, Cheon Ha-rin could not believe her own eyes.

From Ha Jin's fingertips, without any forewarning whatsoever, a crimson flame flared to life.

'Fire Arts?'

That was the first thought that came to mind. But she quickly shook her head. If he had cultivated Nature Arts, there would be changes—his hair color or eye color would shift.

There was no such trace on Ha Jin whatsoever.

'Could it be...... Samadhi True Fire?!'

The ability to conjure flame through nothing but the pure power of one's inner arts. A feat that signified mastery at the Pinnacle level at minimum.

'That's impossible. He can't be more than barely past twenty—at that age, he's reached the Pinnacle......?'