Chapter 15

Chapter 15: The Weapon Girl, the Bragging Seniors, and the Genius Who Trains Like a Maniac

—From the Journal of Song Jae Gu (a.k.a. the Rock Lee of Seoul)

Note to self:

When a girl starts asking deep combat questions while still sweating from the fight you just won in under two minutes, maybe don't answer like a polite robot with a black belt in humility.

"Have you been fighting weapon users for a long time?" Lee Go asked, still catching her breath, sword now sheathed. "The way you move and react isn't from someone new to fighting."

I wasn't even panting. My shirt didn't have a wrinkle out of place, and my pulse? Calm enough to make a monk jealous. Meanwhile, she looked like she'd just sparred with an angry panther in gym class.

What could I say? "Yes, I'm a beast. Thank you for noticing"?

Instead, I went with the humble-flex combo.

"Yes. My master made sure I trained against everything. Spears, blades, chains, your grandma's frying pan—you name it. I'm kind of a generalist. Don't compare yourself to me though. I started way earlier than most people. You're actually really skilled. Give it some time, and you'll be scary good."

See? Encouraging. Slightly condescending, maybe. But still encouraging.

Lee Go just blinked and nodded like I'd told her she had the potential to become the next K-pop idol of blade combat.

That's when Moon Young decided to make things worse.

"Yeah yeah, our boy here's a beast. Even the Wild Guard has their eyes on him, so don't feel bad." She slapped my back so hard my ribs considered filing a lawsuit. "You'll get to our level in a few years."

Dal Dal—normally the first to launch a verbal missile at Moon—didn't say a word.

Which meant one thing.

They were on the same side.

Uh-oh.

Lee Go was a threat.

She might've been new, but her technique was sharp, her instincts sharper, and she didn't flinch when things got serious.

In a few years? She could be stronger than both Moon and Dal.

Me? I was just the guy in the middle trying not to cause a civil war with compliments.

Dal Dal leaned in and added, "Yeah, relax and work hard. You'll catch up soon. Then we can really have fun sparring."

Translation: Please don't spar with us right now and make us look bad in front of our junior.

I smiled, half amused, half worried for the inevitable.

But Lee Go? She believed them.

She nodded enthusiastically, smiling as if she'd just gotten VIP tickets to the Martial Arts Hall of Fame.

"Thank you for your words, seniors! I'll do my best to catch up! And if you don't mind, maybe we can spar together?"

Boom.

Cue the sound of two egos imploding.

Moon and Dal both froze. You could almost see their internal monologues screaming "Abort mission! Mayday! Mayday!"

Luckily, Queen, goddess of social damage control, stepped in.

"For now, let your seniors warm up against weapon users first. Wouldn't want an... accident. Song Jae Gu and I will take care of your sparring for now."

"Really?" Lee Go asked, stars in her eyes.

I nodded. "Yep. Come on, let's eat. Food's getting cold."

I gestured to the picnic-style setup on the floor like a magician revealing the finale. Kimchi, rice, bulgogi, dumplings—it was enough to feed a training squad. Which, to be fair, we sort of were now.

As we sat down and started eating, the mood relaxed. The girls introduced themselves properly to Lee Go, who soaked up the attention like a sponge dipped in soy sauce.

They talked about favorite foods, pet peeves, and how Moon once passed out trying to do a 1,000-squat challenge (she claims it was "strategic lying down").

Me? I brought up the important stuff.

"We should all train together more often. You've all got potential, especially now that Ki is an option."

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So, turns out offering to help four highly competitive girls unlock superhuman martial arts energy is not the casual bonding activity I thought it would be.

The moment I said "Let's train together. With Ki," something shifted in the atmosphere.

Moon dropped her chopsticks.

Dal Dal choked on her rice ball.

Lee Go leaned forward like I'd just offered to show her the meaning of life.

And Queen?

Queen sat very still. Her eyes narrowed with the kind of sharp calculation that said:

"Checkmate was supposed to happen five moves later. Why are you ruining my plans, you beautiful idiot?"

Now, I didn't mean to drop a bomb on the group dinner. I just figured: hey, I know how to control Ki, and they're all talented fighters. Why not help them grow stronger?

Harmless idea, right?

Wrong.

Because Ki isn't just something you hand out like extra fortune cookies at a restaurant.

It's power. Real, pulsing, inner-energy-manipulation, run-up-a-wall-and-punch-a-tree-in-half kind of power.

And people in the Murim world guard it like dragons hoarding gold.

These girls?

None of them had it.

Not because they weren't talented, but because they weren't born into martial clans or trained by a wandering grandmaster who lives in a shack and only eats steamed fish.

Queen was the first to break the silence.

"You're serious?" Her voice was calm, but her brain was doing calculus on how this affected all her future friendship-bribery stratagems.

"You'll train us? Teach us to awaken Ki?"

I nodded and took a sip of water. "I can't awaken it for you, but I can get you ready. If you're serious about applying to the Wild Guard program, they'll help push you past the threshold. I'll just help you get there faster."

Queen blinked.

Dal Dal gaped.

Moon muttered, "So he's not just handsome—he's basically a Ki instructor with muscles and a moral code. Gross."

Lee Go looked like she'd just received divine revelation. "I will not waste this chance!"

Honestly? I was more worried about Queen.

She had that look like she'd already prepared a ten-step plan to lure me into helping her, complete with gift baskets, private lunches, and probably a designer tracksuit with my name embroidered on it.

Now that I'd offered it for free?

It short-circuited her strategy.

"You don't owe us this," she said carefully. "Why help?"

I shrugged. "Because if you're going to be close to me, you'll need to be strong. I can't protect everyone. And frankly? You all have the potential. I'd be wasting it if I let you stay where you are."

Simple. Honest. A little too honest, maybe.

Queen stared at me for a few seconds, then sighed like someone who'd been planning a secret political campaign and just got derailed by a guy handing out campaign flyers for free.

"Fine," she said, smiling faintly. "We accept your training, Master Song."

Dal Dal snorted. "Ew, don't call him that."

Moon grinned. "No, I like it. Has a nice cult-leader ring to it."

"All hail Master Song, the Muscle Monk," Moon said, doing a mock bow.

"Shut up," I muttered, trying not to laugh. "We'll start small. Strength, balance, breathing. Then we'll talk Ki."

Lee Go raised her hand like she was in class. "Can we spar more too?"

Dal Dal and Moon both looked like they were about to object—until Queen gave them both the silent death glare that said: "One wrong word and I tell Lee Go all the embarrassing things you've ever done in combat class."

They both nodded quickly.

So that was it.

I had four disciples, apparently.

Two reluctantly prideful, one terrifyingly clever, and one very, very excited.

I didn't plan on being a teacher.

But maybe… just maybe, this was how it was supposed to start.

With a fight. A meal. And the dumb idea to share what no one else would.

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Ever tried to organize a group project with four people who live in four different time zones, all of whom have strong opinions and stronger kicks?

Now try doing that while secretly working with the school's elite Wild Guard unit, hiding your actual training, and also trying not to look like a control freak.

Welcome to my life.

We were huddled around the bench outside the gym, looking like a bunch of conspirators about to rob a dojo. In reality? We were just trying to figure out when to train.

"How are we going to do this?" Moon asked, eyeing us like we were all auditioning for a martial arts reality show.

I could've told them the truth—that I was training with the Wild Guards every day after school until 5 p.m.

But… I didn't.

Because secrets keep you alive.

And trust? Trust takes time.

These girls were amazing, but they weren't there yet. Not for something this big.

So I just said, "I'm busy after school."

That earned me a suspicious look from Moon and a small, knowing smirk from Queen—who probably assumed I had some shady side gig or secret bodyguard job (which, honestly, wouldn't have been far off).

"I think my level is fine as it is," Dal Dal chimed in, already halfway checked out of the conversation. "We can just spar during break. I don't want to use up my relaxation time. Training is just… ugh."

She leaned back, hands behind her head, as if that settled it.

Classic Dal Dal.

She was a genius in Taekwondo. Fast, sharp, and fluid like someone who'd been born on a spinning kick. Among the female martial artists, no one even came close. She knew it. And worse—she was right.

But genius comes with a price.

In her case? Zero motivation to get stronger when she's already winning.

"I cannot guarantee my time will be free," Queen added smoothly, like she was giving a press statement. "I train at home in the evenings. If you're available, you can visit me. We can spar then."

Of course Queen trained at home. She probably had a custom-designed dojo with air-conditioning and a mirrored wall big enough to fit her ego and her ambition.

But she wasn't lying.

She was busy.

Queen had a life most of us couldn't touch. She was born and raised for elite business negotiations before she could tie her shoes. And even though her younger brother had taken the lead in the family empire, she was still Queen. Still skilled, still strategic, and still… untouchable.

"Let's talk about this tomorrow and think it through," I said, raising a hand before this whole plan derailed completely. "I'll see if I can take out an hour after school so we can fit something in."

Because the truth was, they weren't like me.

Moon was the only one who wanted this—to fight, to grow, to maybe make a career out of it. She had fire. The kind that doesn't burn out. She was rough around the edges, but she wanted it.

Lee Go wanted to teach. She fought to grow, but not because she needed to.

Dal Dal? She had options.

Cooking shows. Modeling offers. She could kick someone's teeth in, then smile for a skincare commercial.

Queen's future was etched in gold and signed by half a dozen CEOs. She could take over a business or broker a deal between rival companies without even breaking a sweat.

And I…

I was a fighter. Not by choice, but by survival.

So yeah, I couldn't push them.

They didn't owe me anything.

And even though I wanted to help—really help—I had to accept that not everyone was chasing strength the way I was. Not everyone needed to.

It felt a little lonely, honestly.

But it also made me smile.

Because they were strong in ways I wasn't.

And maybe that's why I wanted them around in the first place.