Weak Class of Anti-Hero Chapter 7: Trial by Fire

Climbing back to the surface was like coming back to life. The daylight, even the sowhat dim light of the academy’s hallways, seed incredibly bright after the darkness of the basent.

The hallways were empty. The other students were still in class.

"Perfect," Min-Soo said. "We have an hour to spare before the lunch break. Let’s go to the main terminal in the building to spend our points."

We went up to the ground floor. There was a large hall with several wall-mounted consoles. This was where important transactions were made.

Min-Soo went straight to a free console. I did the sa.

"Open the course catalog," he instructed . "Filter by ’Practical Combat’."

A long list appeared. Most of the courses were grayed out, with a note saying "Rank C required" or "Rank B required."

"Now, try to enroll in the ’Practical Combat - Fundantals’ course," he said.

I clicked on it. A window popped up.

[Registration denied. Rank F insufficient.]

"Okay," said Min-Soo, who was looking over my shoulder. "Now, look at the bottom of the window. There’s a small option."

I saw it. It was written in tiny print: "Use Contribution Points for rank waiver."

I clicked it.

[This action requires 10 Contribution Points. Confirm?]

I looked at Min-Soo. He nodded.

I confird.

[10 Contribution Points used. Waiver granted.]

[Enrollnt in ’Practical Combat - Fundantals’ successful.]

The line for the course turned from gray to white. It was done.

"Welco to the big leagues," Min-Soo said with a smile. "Or at least, the league of those who aren’t at the very bottom anymore. The next class starts this afternoon."

The lunch break arrived. The basent cafeteria filled with students coming out of their first classes.

Min-Soo and I sat at the sa table as the day before. This ti, I had enough points to afford the "Enhanced al." It cost 20 points, but it had real at and fresh vegetables. A luxury.

As we were eating, the cafeteria door opened. Choi Jin-Woo’s group ca in.

The blond one saw . Our eyes t.

His expression crumbled. There was fear, but also hatred. He whispered sothing to his friends and they deliberately chose a table at the other end of the room, with their backs to us.

Min-Soo noticed the scene. He smiled into his soup. "Word gets around. They know not to ss with you anymore."

"For now," I said.

"For now," he agreed. "But every day you get stronger, that ’for now’ lasts a little longer."

After the al, we headed to the combat gym. It was a huge building, much more impressive than the cafeteria.

Upon entering, the air was different. You could feel the energy, the tension, the sll of sweat and spent Aura.

The room was divided into several combat arenas. About thirty students, all C and D-ranks, were already there in gym clothes. They watched us enter, Min-Soo and .

Their looks said it all. "What are these two doing here?"

A teacher, a muscular man with a scar on his cheek, saw us. He frowned.

"Are you lost, boys? The basic theory class is in the other building."

Min-Soo stepped forward, not at all intimidated.

"We are enrolled in this class, sir."

The teacher laughed. "Impossible. You’re..." He pointed his terminal at us. He read our information. His laughter died in his throat.

He looked at us, then at his screen, then back at us. His expression had shifted from mockery to intense curiosity.

"Alright," he said slowly. "Then show what you’ve got."

The teacher crossed his muscular arms over his chest. A faint smile replaced his surprise. It wasn’t mocking. It was a smile of curiosity.

"Alright. Since we have so newcors, let’s start with a simple exercise. A demonstration duel."

His eyes swept over the group of students. He pointed to a tall, square-jawed boy who was standing with a confident air.

"Park. Get over here."

The boy, Park, stepped forward, an arrogant smile on his lips. He was clearly one of the best in the group. His interface must have shown a good B-rank.

"Against who, coach?" he asked.

The teacher jutted his chin toward . "Against him. The Rank-F."

Park laughed. Other students in the room snickered with him.

"Coach, this isn’t going to be a duel. It’s going to be an execution," Park said.

"First one to land a clean Aura attack on the other wins," the teacher said, ignoring Park’s remark. "No serious injuries. Understood?"

Park nodded, looking bored already.

I stepped onto the combat arena, a raised square platform. Park stood opposite . The gap between us seed imnse. He radiated power. I radiated nothing.

I held out my hand. I summoned my dagger.

A murmur went through the spectators. It was the sa useless weapon from the Draft.

Only Min-Soo, on the sidelines, watched the scene with a small smirk, as if he already knew the end of the movie.

"Ready?" the teacher asked.

)

Park had already started gathering energy in his fists. Orange flas began to dance around his hands.

The teacher lowered his arm.

"Begin!"

Park didn’t wait another second.

A series of small, fast fireballs shot from his hands. They flew toward like angry bullets, whistling through the air.

My first instinct was to dodge. I threw myself to the side. The first fireball hit the ground where I had been standing, leaving a black, smoking mark.

He didn’t stop. Another one. Then another.

I was forced to backpedal, to dance from one side of the arena to the other to avoid the projectiles. The air was getting hot. I could feel the heat of the flas grazing my skin.

This wasn’t like the Specter Rats. Park was a fighter. He aid, he anticipated my movents, he gave no rest.

I brandished my dagger, trying to cut one of the fireballs in mid-air like I had with the rats. It worked. The fla disappeared on contact with the black blade. But it was slow. Clumsy. While I was dealing with one fireball, two more were already on their way.

I was purely on the defensive. I couldn’t do anything but retreat and survive.

Park saw that I was only defending. A predatory smile appeared on his face. He saw an opening.

He stopped throwing projectiles. Instead, he charged.

His fist, completely covered in intense flas, was aid straight at my chest. He was too fast. Much faster than the rats.

I would never have ti to dodge.

I only had ti to do one thing: place my dagger in front of , with both hands, to block the blow.

Park’s flaming fist struck the blade.

This ti, it wasn’t like with the burly guy. Park’s strength was imnse. The impact sent flying back several ters. My feet scraped against the arena floor. I managed to stay on my feet, but my arms were trembling from the shock.

As expected, the fla around his fist was absorbed by the dagger. But Park wasn’t surprised. He had expected it.

"Interesting technique," he said, his smile widening. "But useless if you can’t keep up."

Before I could even recover, he followed up.

He stomped his foot on the ground. A wave of fire crept across the arena floor, heading for . I had to jump to avoid it.

But it was a trap.

While I was in the air, off-balance, he was already on .

He didn’t use his fists this ti. He used a technique I had never seen before. His flas concentrated, solidified to form a chain of fire that he cracked in my direction.

The chain wrapped around my ankle in mid-jump.

The pain was sharp, burning. I fell heavily onto the arena floor.

Winded, I tried to get up. But Park was already there, standing over .

He didn’t strike. He simply placed his index finger, around which a small, concentrated fla danced, an inch from my forehead. A clean and clear Aura attack.

The fight was over.

"Winner, Park," the teacher announced, without any emotion in his voice.

Park dissipated his fla. He looked down at , lying on the floor, with an air of total superiority.

"I was right," he said to the other students, who were looking at him with admiration. "It was an execution."