Training Arena Six was massive. A wide, tiled hall opened up like a battlefield indoors, surrounded by high glass walls and reinforced steel beams. Dozens of training dummies lined the corners, strange equipment hummed, and there was a viewing platform above, almost like a small stadium.
From up there, people could look down on the match like a coliseum. Ji-ho stood at the entrance, staring around like a kid in an arcade. "Keep up," the officer grunted, motioning him forward. They descended into the arena through a metal stairwell. The deeper they went, the heavier the atmosphere felt. Ji-ho's bare feet touched the cold tile as they reached the ground floor.
"Go in there and get changed. Just the pants." "Wait, what do you mean 'just pants'?" Ji-ho blinked. "Aren't we supposed to wear something up top too?" "Did I stutter, boy?" the man growled. "Fine, fine…" Ji-ho muttered. He walked into the changing room, pulling off the training uniform he'd already gotten used to.
The heavy gear had pushed his body, but it made him feel grounded. Now, with just plain black pants on, he stretched his arms out and exhaled. When he came out, the man was already shirtless. Muscles like slabs of steel, skin covered in battle scars. He looked Ji-ho up and down, not impressed, but mildly curious.
"I get this is some test, but why the whole shirtless thing?" Ji-ho frowned, scratching his head. "We modeling or fighting?" But the man didn't answer. Instead, more people had started gathering. Curious soldiers, officers, and even a few trainees had heard about the upcoming match.
"Wow, he's actually kinda hot," a girl whispered. "Show-off," one of the guys muttered. Ji-ho felt their angry eyes on him and spotted familiar faces in the crowd, Dae-chul, Ye-jun, and Bora. The murmurs faded instantly when another figure stepped into the arena. Short blue hair, a cigarette lazily burning at his lips.
His presence alone seemed to silence the room. "Captain Joon-woo," someone whispered. "The Captain of the Obsidian Blade..." Ji-ho's eyes narrowed. So that's a Captain here. If it's anything like my world, he should be squad leader-level... possibly the one the type I'll be under.
Joon-woo looked between the two men, then exhaled smoke from his nose. "Really? Humiliating a newbie in front of a crowd? Classy." "Come on, Bluey. Might be fun to watch," the shirtless man replied with a grin. "Don't call me that," Joon-woo scowled. "And what is this, Captain Ryu-hwan, fighting shirtless like an idiot? Is that how we operate now?" Ji-ho raised a brow. Ryu-hwan? So that's his name.
The man laughed. "You'll get over it. Besides, I'm just giving him a taste of what real strength feels like." Ryu-hwan's eyes shifted to Ji-ho, sharp and unblinking. "Well then, shall we begin? Since a fellow Captain and my subordinates are watching, I'll make this count." Ji-ho tensed. The air around them grew thick, serious.
It was simple no mana, just raw strength and physical skill. Ryu-hwan grinned. Before Ji-ho could blink, the man moved. A sharp pain. A heavy force crashed into his chest. Ji-ho flew backward, skidding across the tiles with a loud crack. The whole arena went quiet. Ji-ho coughed, blood on his lips. "Heh… That all you got?" He smirked and stood back up, wiping his mouth.
Ryu-hwan's grin widened. "That's the spirit."
He charged again, fists flying. Ji-ho dodged a few, but several landed with bone-rattling impact. He staggered, breath ragged, but didn't fall. Joon-woo's eyes narrowed. "He's dragging this out… Why?" "You're through," Ryu-hwan declared, aiming a final punch toward Ji-ho's gut. Ji-ho caught it.
"What?" The man pulled back, clearly surprised for a second. Ji-ho panted, knuckles trembling. "I'm not done yet." "Impressive," Ryu-hwan muttered. "Then I'll move faster." He moved so fast, it felt like he had vanished, then reappeared mid-strike, slamming Ji-ho down again. Dust lifted as the impact echoed. Ji-ho hit the ground hard, back-first, his breath knocked clean out of him. "Go home," Ryu-hwan said calmly. "You're not built for this. Pretty boys like you don't last."
Laughter rippled from a few watching recruits. Ji-ho's mind blurred. His vision swam. But then, "Ji-ho, my boy… no matter what they say, never give up." An old voice surfaced in his memory. Warm. Familiar.
His eyes snapped open. He clenched his fist, dragged himself up, blood dripping from his mouth. "Don't… write me off."
Ryu-hwan's brows lifted, just slightly. "Still standing?" "You think I'll just quit 'cause you hit hard? I've survived worse than this."
The air shifted. A breeze stirred his hair subtle, but unnatural. His body trembled… not with weakness, but something else.
Growth. Muscles tightening. Bones creaking. His frame subtly stretching, just an inch taller. Slightly broader. His hair grew a bit longer, barely noticeable, except from one person, who blinked but didn't trust his eyes.
Ryu-hwan's smile returned. "There it is."
Pressure exploded off him like a wave. His energy filled the arena, heavy and suffocating. The recruits near the edge stumbled, gasping for breath. "Oi!" Joon-woo shouted. "Your Ethereal Flow is spilling out, idiot!"
"Oops," Ryu-hwan chuckled. "I'm just excited." He rushed again. But this time, Ji-ho moved too. They clashed. Fist against fist. Elbow against shoulder. A flurry of strikes, fast, brutal, even. Ryu-hwan grinned like a wild beast. Ji-ho didn't back down. Their fight now looked like a choreographed blur, fast enough to leave afterimages.
Ye-jun's eyes widened. "He's… matching him."
"How's he doing this?" someone whispered. "He doesn't even have mana." Shockwaves burst from each collision, forcing Joon-woo to erect a barrier around the arena. The floor cracked. Tiles shattered. Ji-ho slammed his shoulder into Ryu-hwan's chest, only for a knee to crash into his ribs a second later.
Ji-ho coughed blood but laughed. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"I like fighters who don't fret," Ryu-hwan replied, both of them breathing heavily, both bloodied. Then, they punched each other in the face. Both staggered back.
The crowd gasped. Ji-ho growled, launching forward again. He ducked a punch, twisted, landed a solid strike to Ryu-hwan's side. The man winced slightly, then retaliated with a heavy forearm to Ji-ho's shoulder. They weren't fighting to win anymore. They were fighting to feel. To test, to prove. And then suddenly, Ryu-hwan jumped back, exhaling deeply.
"That's enough." Ji-ho, panting, stopped mid-step. His body was shaking, bleeding, aching in every joint. His hair now back to normal fell over his eyes as he dropped to his knees. Ryu-hwan, smiling, walked over and stretched out his hand. "You did well, kid." Ji-ho looked up, blinking through the sweat and blood.
"Guess I went a little too rough." Ryu-hwan laughed. "Little bit?" Joon-woo yelled from the platform. "You nearly killed the kid!"
Ji-ho grabbed the hand, and Ryu-hwan pulled him up. "I told you not to write me off," Ji-ho said, weakly smiling. "You're a weird one," Ryu-hwan chuckled. "From today onward, you'll be calling me Captain Ryu-hwan." "But… I didn't win," Ji-ho mumbled, confused.
"It was never about you winning, idiot," Ryu-hwan laughed. "You couldn't beat me even if I went at thirty percent." He was still holding back? Ji-ho's eyes widened. Just what kind of monsters are these Captains? "I accepted you the moment the old coot referred you," Ryu-hwan said. "That man… let's just say I have a lot of faith in him. I just wanted everyone else to see it for themselves."
Ji-ho turned.
The crowd wasn't murmuring anymore.
They were clapping. Officers, recruits, even the ones who mocked him before. "You remind me of someone," Ryu-hwan added, looking away. "Someone who used to kick my ass back in the day… That four-eyed bastard." Ji-ho didn't know who he meant, but the respect in his tone said it all. Minutes later, Ji-ho was escorted to the infirmary. As the medics worked on his bruises, he could hear Joon-woo yelling in the background.
"You're reckless, Ryu!" "I got results, didn't I?" Ryu-hwan laughed. "Next time, use your brain instead of your biceps!" Ji-ho chuckled to himself. What kind of crazy place have I ended up in? Later that evening, bandaged but grinning, Ji-ho walked through the compound. His new team had welcomed him with laughs, food, and plenty of teasing.
"Try not to fight all our Captains, alright?" Dae-chul joked. "Only if they start it," Ji-ho replied, flashing a tired grin. On his way back to the dorms, Ji-ho passed the training grounds again. There, under the dim lights, someone was still moving. Seo-jun alone, Focused. His blade slicing through the air, precise and beautiful. Each swing more refined than the last.
Ji-ho stopped. For a brief moment, neither of them said anything. The wind rustled between them. Everyone here trains like their life depends on it… Ji-ho smiled to himself. Guess I better catch up.