Jihu sat in the debriefing room, his body stiff from exhaustion. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a stark glow over the wreckage of his team. Selene, her uniform still marked with burns, sat across from him with her arms crossed. Aeris was reviewing the mission data on her tablet, her face unreadable. Garron was silent, his knuckles still bruised from their desperate escape.
The head instructor's voice cut through the tense atmosphere.
"You barely succeeded." His gaze was sharp, lingering on Jihu longer than the others. "And yet, despite all your failures, your casualty rate remained at zero. I wonder…" He leaned forward. "Was that luck, or something eJihu remained quiet, his face impassive. The others had assumed he was barely holding on, that he had simply reacted to the chaos. But they didn't understand.
Everything had gone exactly as he had predicted.
The ship malfunctioning, the enemy reinforcements, even the scientist's resistance—Jihu had accounted for it all. He had played the role of an overwhelmed cadet, the weakest link, all while maneuvering the battlefield from the shadows.
And now, as expected, no one suspected him.
Selene clicked her tongue. "It doesn't matter. We extracted th"At the cost of unnecessary recklessness," Aeris said without looking up. "The mission parameters were compromised multiple times due to poor coordination."
Jihu watched them carefully. This was the moment to push his influence further.
He spoke, his tone measured. "You're both right."
That caught their attention.
He leaned forward, placing his hands together. "We succeeded, but barely. We got lucky that the enemy's response time was slower than anticipated. If they had been faster, we'd be dead."
Selene frowned. "What are yoI'm saying we shouldn't rely on luck. We need to anticipate. Control the battlefield before it controls us." His voice was steady, calculated. "We need a strategy. A real one."
Aeris's gaze sharpened. "And you believe you can provide that?"
Jihu met her eyes. "I already have."
He tapped the side of the table. "Every decision I made during that mission was based on calculated probability. I let Garron engage the blockade because it was the fastest way through. I played dumb with the ship because I knew it would lower expectations, giving me control without resistance. Even the final escape—I delayed our takeoff by precisely five seconds, forcing the enemy to recalibrate their targeting systems. That hesitation saveSilence fell over the room.
Selene's expression darkened. "Are you telling me… you planned for us to nearly get killed?"
"No," Jihu replied. "I planned for us to survive, no matter what."
Aeris's fingers tightened around her tablet. "That level of risk is dangerous."
"Not as dangerous as moving blindly."
Selene exhaled sharply, clearly frustrated, but she didn't argue. Garron, who had been quiet, finally spoke. "So, what's your nJihu looked at them, reading their expressions. This was the moment to solidify his position.
He leaned back, his voice calm.
"We stop reacting. We start dictatiThat Night
Jihu sat alone in his dorm, the lights dimmed. His roommates had gone out, giving him the solitude he needed. He pulled up a private terminal, inputting a sequence of codes known only to him.
A series of mission logs appeared on the screen—enemy formations, known strategies, past failures of the academy's training regimen. He had been gathering data from the beginning, piecing together patterns, understanding the weaknesses in their system.
A weak system could be controlled.
His fingers hovered over the console as he drafted the next phase of hStep one: Establish control over his team.
Step two: Expand his influence beyond assigned exercises.
Step three: Find out who was truly pulling the strings behind the academy.
Jihu exhaled, his eyes cold.
He had no interest in being a hero. No interest in playing the game by their rules.
He would shape his own battlefield.
And in the end, when the real war began—he would be the one standing in the shadows, holding all the the weapons to anhaliate everything