Prey and Hunter (1) (Bonus)

''Sure, why not?''

''Follow me, then.''

There was no real reason to refuse.

It was the perfect chance to refine my technique outside my comfort zone—against someone who clearly outclassed me in every way.

The sparring area had grass short enough for movement but soft enough to cushion falls.

Kim Suho planted his training sword in the dirt as I hefted my synthetic spear.

No combat uniforms—just plain black shirts and sweatpants.

"Before we start," he said, reclaiming his sword, "ground rules. First: no mana. Pure skill. Second: no points—we stop when one can't continue. Third…"

He raised his blade in one fluid, rehearsed motion.

"Use anything at your disposal. Including the environment."

"Including throwing rocks?"

"If you can hit me, go ahead."

I grinned.

"Like your rules."

We faced each other.

Kim Suho assumed a classic Korean fencing stance—feet rooted, center balanced, wooden sword angled diagonally.

Ready for offense and defense.

I tried mirroring my best stance.

''Shall we start?''

He advanced first, testing my reaction.

I spun the spear, deflecting his blade with its tip while retreating to maximize my reach.

The spear gave me space to control the fight's rhythm.

Yet Kim Suho sliced through that advantage effortlessly.

His footwork closed distance in milliseconds.

"That second strike," his voice cut clearly through motion. "Good follow-up to the spin, but you left your flank open. If I were a real enemy—"

He demonstrated.

Darted through the opening, sword-tip tapping my shoulder.

"—I'd have hit you here."

I leaped back, teeth clenched.

"Fine. See if you can next time."

"Try me," he replied.

His eyes were calm as pre-storm seas.

I took two steps back.

Reset my stance.

"Hup!"

This time, I charged.

A destabilizing thrust, then a body-rotation sweep aimed at his legs.

Kim Suho evaded with absurd grace.

But I seized the chance—

And kicked dirt at his face.

"Ope." He raised an arm, laughing. "Dirty play?"

"No refs here."

"Fair. Show me what else you've got."

A thrust at his center mass.

Whoosh!

He pivoted like wind-guided, my spear grazing air centimeters from his chest.

The next minutes were a technical massacre.

I used every spear advantage: spacing, spins from Ascending Dragon's Fury, jumps, terrain-assisted lunges.

Yet Kim Suho countered like he'd memorized my moves before I made them.

"I think we can speed it up a little,'' Kim Suho declared.

Next moment, he vanished from my front—reappeared flanking.

His speed had spiked exponentially.

Now truly testing my limits.

"You overthink mid-move," he commented, blocking another strike. "The technique appears to demand flow, but you're chopping it into parts. Let it breathe."

I used body momentum to rotate into the second motion—a horizontal sweep from low to high, spear-weight driving force.

He deflected with his blade's flat side.

"Hard to 'breathe' when you're trying to take my head off!"

"You'll learn."

The finale came after a promising combo: he batted my spear's shaft, spun, and landed a precise sweep kick.

My left foot lost ground.

Gravity handled the rest.

I landed flat on my back.

The spear clattered away.

He stood there, expression unchanged.

And, then, extended a hand.

"Good fight," he smiled. "You improve by the minute. That's talent."

I eyed his hand, then took it.

"And still lost."

"But lasted longer than I expected. And got me dirty."

He brushed soil off his shoulder, still smiling.

"Truth is, your aggression shows rhythm and intent. Just need to learn when to push and when to retreat better."

"You sound like an instructor. So... tell me, is that a compliment or a threat?"

He laughed, slightly abashed.

"Habit. Sorry if I went hard."

"You did. But it was fair, and pretty helpful too."

Suho nodded, satisfied.

Trin~

My watch vibrated.

[Unknown Number: Kim Hajin.]

[Unknown Number: Told you I would find your contact.]

[Unknown Number: We need to talk.]

"Looks like my day off's over."

"Something serious?" he asked.

"Always is."

I dusted my pants.

"Thanks for the spar."

"Thanks for the dirt kick,'' he joked.

Then we parted ways.

______________

The meetup spot was discreet but functional—one of the Cube's deepest library study rooms.

It was further away than the one I had visited previously and had less to offer than either it or the others.

Hence, empty.

I arrived with dirt still caked on my cuffs and grass in my sleeves.

Hajin waited beside a shelf of sealed grimoires, head bowed, expression heavy.

Frankly, he looked exhausted.

"Well, well," I started, dropping into the chair opposite him. "Someone had a worse day than me."

He lifted his eyes slowly, surfacing from thought.

"So it really happened," I crossed my arms. "You got accused at the meeting."

He frowned, mildly surprised.

"How'd you know?"

"I have sources," I answered, a half-smirk forming. "And sharp ears in very specific places."

Hajin scoffed but didn't press.

He knew pulling that thread led to evasiveness.

"They looked at me like I was Sven. Like I'd explode any second. Fucking nerve."

"You stayed calm?"

"Had a choice?"

I didn't answer.

He hadn't expected one.

"But that's not why you called. I'm not a therapist, FYI."

"No," Hajin straightened. "It's about Yoo Yeonha."

I leaned in slightly. "You mean the Djinn targeting her."

He didn't bother asking how I knew.

Cut to the chase.

"Yes. Everyone thinks Chae Nayun is the target. But Yoo Yeonha's next. I just don't know when exactly."

I nodded slowly.

"So we need to talk about Yoon Hyeon. Right?"

Hajin's brow arched.

"Figured you'd know something, but that too?"

"Yep. Academic Club president," I said, like listing obvious facts. "Guy's naturally creepy."

Pretty and smart—a freak of nature...

Luxxion would call it envy... whatever.

"Not the point," Hajin countered. "In the original plot, six vanished in two months. Now it's seven in three weeks."

My eyes narrowed.

Internally, dots connected.

The variables were multiplying. Fast.

"So, the pattern's accelerated. And considering the circumstances' similarity… risk is way higher than projected."

I nodded.

"Meaning Yoon Hyeon could be another Sven?"

"Or worse,'' he declared.

My fingers drummed the chairback.

I waited to see if Luxxion would say anything.

He never made an appearance.

"Where do I fit in?"

Hajin inhaled deeply, like the hard part was coming.

"I want us to work together," he explained. "Figure out this… mutation. This script deviation. What happened to Sven might not be isolated."

He'd clearly scoured his notebook for the co-author edits.

And certainly found nothing.

"I've got a suspicion what it might be," I said without thinking.

"Then say it."

Hajin leaned in, attentive.

But I shook my head before he could ask.

"Can't explain yet. Told you before."

Hajin clenched his fists, frustrated.

"Then why mention it?"

"Because you deserve to know someone's on it. But trusting me? That's separate."

Silence.

We both knew: same board, different rules.

"Still," he said, pragmatic again, "we need a plan. Attack Yoon Hyeon. Investigate closely. Who knows, maybe even get in his way."

"Or..." I cut in, tilting my head, "let the script play out as intended."

"You mean... wait for him to attack Yoo Yeonha?"

He'd done it in the manhwa.

Done the same with Sven, hell.

So why did his gaze feel so judgmental towards the idea?

"If inevitable, yes. Sometimes flowing with the current's more efficient than fighting it."

Hajin pondered, then nodded slowly.

"Fine. We observe Him. Watch for signs. Confirm if Yeonha's disappearance follows the original plot or not."

I nodded agreement.

"You've got good eyes. I'll leave that to you."

Hajin scoffed but didn't disagree.

Deep down, he knew I was right.

Right then, we sealed an unspoken pact.

And as if waiting for my cue, a notification flashed:

[Main Mission partially updated.]

Bingo.