“Sorry!”
Senior Fuma, who had called to the rooftop, imdiately bowed at a 90-degree angle and apologized.
“……”
It was such a textbook apology straight out of a comic that I was montarily dumbfounded.
Luckily, she didn’t do the prayer gesture, but had Senior Fuma done sothing so regretful to ?
I was pondering that to myself when…
She raised her head and suddenly explained the reason for her apology.
“I heard from the President. My father attacked you suddenly, right? I’m sorry for dragging you into our family’s business.”
“It’s not your fault, Senior Fuma. It’s not sothing you need to apologize for.”
“But…”
“Never mind the ‘but’—just get up. You’re making really uncomfortable.”
“…Alright.”
As I spoke firmly, Senior Fuma reluctantly straightened her back.
Only then did she seem to notice the wounds on my face, and she cautiously asked.
“Um… does it hurt a lot?”
“Right now, it just stings if I touch it. After all, I got these injuries last night.”
As I shrugged while saying that, Senior Fuma nodded with a dejected expression.
Then, as if she just rembered sothing, she added.
“You don’t have to worry about my father anymore. I’ll go tell him not to bother you.”
“Uh, I’m fine, though.”
“Kim Yu-seong, you’re too nice for your own good. You need to learn to say no when you don’t want sothing.”
“No, I’m seriously fine. Besides, I’m learning sothing useful right now.”
“A skill?”
Since Senior Fuma had no idea what was going on, I explained to her about the ‘Nagi’ technique I had started learning yesterday.
“Nagi? That’s a technique I’ve never heard of.”
“I heard it was a technique your father created. He supposedly used it to win against Ivan, the God of Destruction, in the 4th GOF.”
“……”
After hearing my explanation, Senior Fuma looked troubled.
Well, it was understandable—there was a technique that even the next head of the family and his own daughter didn’t know about.
Seemingly finished with her thoughts, Senior Fuma spoke to with a serious expression.
“Alright, Kim Yu-seong, I get your situation. If you’re in a position to fight Ivan again, it makes sense to learn another useful skill. But don’t push yourself too hard trying to keep up with my father’s pace. If you get hurt, no one will take responsibility for you.” Ṟ𝒶𝐍𝘰ʙΕŠ
“I understand. Thanks for your concern, Senior.”
“Wh-who said I was concerned about you?!”
As I tried to end the conversation on a warm note, Senior Fuma overreacted and apologized for taking up my ti before leaving the rooftop.
I watched her leave until she was out of sight, then realized I hadn’t eaten lunch yet and hurried back to the classroom.
After school.
As autumn neared its end, the weather had beco quite cold, so I tightened my collar and headed to the usual fitness center.
It feels like I haven’t ntioned it much lately, but I still co here regularly to work out.
“Just one more set!”
After giving the gym manager, who was busy motivating the mbers, a nod, I changed the plates on the barbell for bench pressing when I heard a familiar voice.
“Brother!”
“Kazu?”
It was Kazu, now a professional gym rat.
“What brings you here at this hour?”
“Oh, I’ve got sothing to do in the evening, so I moved my workout ti up a bit.”
Initially, Kazu used to schedule his workouts to match mine, but I advised him not to and to exercise at a ti optimal for him instead. That’s why he moved his workout to this ti.
So, since I don’t usually see him except during morning workouts, he seed even happier to see .
“Need a spot?”
“No, I’m good. Just finish what you were doing. You know you shouldn’t get distracted during a workout.”
“Hehe, I knew you’d say that, Brother.”
Laughing cheekily, Kazu went into the squat rack, likely to do squats.
I watched him with a smile as I placed the last 20 kg plate on the bar.
Since it was a specially made barbell, even with 240 kg plates combined on both sides, it maintained perfect balance without bending in the middle. It was truly a beautiful sight.
“Heup!”
Taking a short breath in, I went up and down.
My lower body, supporting the distributed weight, pressed against the ground, while my back ford an arch.
Executing the bench press with perfect form, ensuring the stimulation went only to my chest and triceps, I set down the barbell as soon as I finished the set and raised my upper body.
With the sudden increase in blood flow, I could feel my muscles pump up more than usual beneath my skin.
Isn’t challenging and overcoming your body’s limits the real essence of weightlifting?
Going back to the basics and recalling the first workout, the bench press, that Manager Yujiro taught , I started feeling a bit sentintal.
It was when I was in the middle of my workout.
Ding! Ding!
“So here you are, kid.”
It was a familiar voice coming from the counter.
“Ivan!”
I couldn’t help but raise my voice in surprise.
That was because only a handful of people knew I ca to this gym.
But Ivan, appearing shalessly, didn’t care about any of that as he approached during my workout and spoke.
“Kim Yu-seong, the reason I ca to find you today is to inform you about the revenge match we talked about yesterday.”
“…Revenge match?”
“Yeah. You’ve already spoken with Fuma, right? This ti, I’ll pay you back for the humiliation I suffered in our last fight.”
As he said that, Ivan took sothing out from his jacket and handed it to .
It was an invitation inside a white envelope.
This was already starting to feel serious.
Aren’t fights usually just about throwing punches?
“Don’t run away.”
Leaving behind what felt like a warning, Ivan was about to leave the gym, but I quickly grabbed him.
“Wait! Hold on!”
“?”
“Is this it? You didn’t have to co all the way here just to give an invitation.”
How did he even find ?
“‘Just?’ Handing the invitation personally is the highest form of respect I can give my opponent.”
“Respect?”
Despite calling ‘kid’ repeatedly, he was definitely professional when it ca to drawing boundaries like this.
“At the highest level, you crush the best opponents. That’s why I move personally. So, all you have to do is show up.”
Ivan gave a sidelong glance, apologized for interrupting my workout, and then left the gym.
After he left, Manager Yujiro approached a mont later and asked.
“Yu-seong! Who was that guy?!”
It seed like he was more interested in Ivan’s physique than my well-being.
Feeling a strange sense of betrayal, I answered his question.
“A friend’s father.”
Training with Fuma Kotaro was very simple.
Just fight without holding back.
It was an extrely brute-force thod, but since Nagi, the ultimate technique of Hayate, was more of an enlightennt than a technique, Fuma Kotaro said he couldn’t think of any other way to teach it.
As a result, there wasn’t a single day without new injuries on my body.
Even if I started healing, new wounds would always appear, so there was nothing I could do.
Ivan had set the duel for exactly one week later.
He probably couldn’t stay in Japan for too long, which was why he set the date, but I couldn’t help feeling it was too soon.
In reality, I hadn’t made any progress on figuring out Nagi.
‘Empty your mind’—if it were as easy as it sounded, he wouldn’t have called it an ultimate technique.
“What are you staring at?”
“Nothing.”
I looked at Fuma Kotaro, scratching his chin in front of with an annoying expression, and then shook my head as I stood up.
It was already the fourth day since we started training.
But we hadn’t made any progress in the lessons, and I was still struggling with reading the wind.
“So, isn’t it about ti you learned how to read the wind?”
“Not at all.”
I shook my head firmly as I said that.
Fuma Kotaro was undoubtedly a strong fighter, but as a teacher, he was close to a failure.
He relied entirely on his instincts and experience rather than theory, which made him terrible at explaining the concepts he wanted others to grasp.
“Isn’t the concept of wind too abstract in the first place? It’s not sothing you can even see with your eyes.”
“But it’s definitely there. That’s all I can say.”
“Sigh.”
This wasn’t so guessing ga.
I nodded reluctantly and once again contemplated inwardly to try and feel the ‘wind’ that Fuma Kotaro was talking about.
As my senses gradually dimd and I focused on feeling qi in the pitch-black darkness, I could sense sothing unfamiliar.
I didn’t know if this was the ‘wind’ Fuma Kotaro was talking about, but it was definitely the most likely candidate.
I kept reaching out to grasp this clue.
But every ti, it slipped through my fingers like grains of sand.
There was nothing left in my hands.
“I failed again.”
When I opened my eyes and said that, Fuma Kotaro shrugged and said, “Then it’s ti for another spar.”
‘I’m going to go crazy.’
Hoping that this aningless task would end soon, I faced him, fists raised, and began sparring again.
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