Jihu sat on the infirmary bed, clutching an ice pack to his bruised ribs, contemplating the absolute disaster that had just unfolded.
Fifteen minutes earlier, he had been standing in the sparring arena, barely able to keep his balance, his limbs still aching from the gravity chamber incident. And yet, the instructors—probably sadists in disguise—decided it was the perfect time for combat practice.
"Students, today's sparring session will help assess your strengths and weaknesses!" boomed Instructor Roth, a grizzled veteran with the personality of an angry warlord. "Fight with everything you have! No holding back!"
Jihu groaned. "Great. Just great."
He had hoped to get paired with someone equally exhausted, maybe another unfortunate soul who had pushed too hard in the gravity chamber. But fate, as always, had other plans. His opponent? A girl named Mira Talven.
Mid-ranked family.
Small frame.
Looked unassuming.
Jihu had made the mistake of assuming she'd go easy on him.
Big mistake.
---
**The Humiliation Begins**
"Alright, begin!" the instructor barked.
Jihu barely had time to blink before Mira moved.
Her first strike was a blur. A clean, sharp kick right to his stomach. Jihu barely processed what happened before his body doubled over, air whooshing out of his lungs like a deflated balloon. He stumbled backward, blinking rapidly.
"H-Hey, can we slow down a—"
Another hit. This time, a palm strike to his chest, followed by a smooth leg sweep that sent him crashing to the ground. The crowd gasped. His roommates winced. Even the instructor raised an eyebrow.
Jihu groaned. "What… the hell…"
Mira, meanwhile, had barely broken a sweat. She cracked her knuckles, looking almost *bored.* "You're wide open. No proper stance, no guard. Are you even trying?"
"Of course, I'm—"
Another hit. A sharp jab to the ribs. Then a knee to his gut. Then another leg sweep. This time, Jihu just stayed down.
From the crowd, Kael and Rael were whispering to each other.
"He's getting destroyed."
"Do we step in?"
"Nah, this is hilarious."
Lucian, his ever-perfect golden-haired roommate, sighed dramatically. "This is why I told you all he's not right in the head."
The twins nodded solemnly. "A tragic case."
Jihu, sprawled on the floor, barely processed their betrayal.
"Enough!" the instructor finally called, sounding almost *pitying.* "Winner: Mira Talven."
Mira didn't even celebrate. She simply nodded and walked off, leaving Jihu wheezing on the floor like a dying fish. He had never been more humiliated in his life. The *entire* sparring hall had just witnessed the worst beating of the day, and it wasn't even close.
---
**The Aftermath**
Jihu dragged himself to the infirmary, where a kind but clearly amused nurse patched him up. His ribs were bruised, his ego was shattered, and his stomach still felt like it had been rearranged by a professional boxer.
His roommates visited shortly after.
"You alive?" Kael asked, peeking through the doorway.
"Barely," Jihu croaked. "Did everyone see?"
Rael nodded. "Oh yeah. Definitely."
Lucian folded his arms. "It was a tragic display. I've never seen someone lose that convincingly."
Jihu groaned. "Thanks for the support."
Lucian smirked. "Anytime."
It was in that moment of absolute defeat that Jihu made a vow.
**Laying low. Avoiding attention. Flying under the radar. That was the way forward.**
No more reckless challenges. No more unnecessary fights. And definitely no more antagonizing powerful people. He'd charm the teachers, do the bare minimum to pass, and never, *ever* end up in another situation like this.
Because if he had to suffer this kind of humiliation again, he might just fake his own death and disappear into space.
---
**Later That Night**
As Jihu lay in bed, his body aching from head to toe, Kael and Rael were still whispering in the dark.
"So, do we tell him?"
"Nah, let him figure it out himself."
"Figure *what* out?" Jihu grumbled, turning to glare at them.
Rael grinned. "That Mira? She was holding back."
Jihu closed his eyes.
This school really sucks
---
**To be continued…**