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Griffin Scans
Translator – Hero of death
Proofreader – Sleepyhead
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Chapter 6 - Lee Mujin
"Are you okay?"
He asked with a bright smile. The way his eyes curved as he smiled left a deep impression.
"Thanks."
"No, it's nothing."
Even though I was grateful, I couldn’t help but feel a rising sense of rivalry. My goal was right in front of me. Like a hedgehog, my guard bristled instinctively.
"You challenged the training doll too, right? Is your specialty martial arts?"
"No, swordsmanship."
He kept a light smile throughout our conversation.
Even in this short exchange, I could sense his composure—it radiated effortlessly.
I voiced the question I had been holding.
"Did you try the doll too?"
There were visible bruises on his body. He must’ve found me on his way out after finishing his own training.
"Yeah. It was tough."
"Did you beat it?"
To be honest, I didn’t want to hear his answer. He didn’t look like he lost, after all.
But I had to ask. I needed to understand the gap between us—face the reality.
I was weak. At least for now.
"Maybe I did."
Of course. This guy probably beat the steel doll barehanded.
"It was rough. No weapon made it even harder."
"What difficulty?"
"Medium."
He beat the medium-level one barehanded. I had picked the easy level—and all I did was get beaten to a pulp.
I felt… painfully inadequate.
Between him and me stood 496 cadets. That was the gap.
"Still, this feels like fate. Let’s get along."
He reached out his hand. I looked at it, hesitating.
Should I take it? Not take it?
Honestly, it wouldn’t change anything.
But I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be remembered as a friend. I wanted to be remembered as a rival.
Yeah, I was being emotional.
"Lee… I don’t want to be friends with you."
"Ah, really? That’s too bad."
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly but still smiled.
That smile… I suddenly wanted to punch his face.
"Hold on to that number one spot. I plan to take it from you."
His eyes sharpened for a moment.
"I thought you looked familiar… You’re Yu Jihoon from Class A, right?"
"You know me?"
Honestly, I was surprised. I didn’t expect him to know who I was.
"People have been talking. A lot."
Well, yeah.
Picking a fight with Park Jongpal, who’s over 200 ranks below me, and demanding an official duel?
It would’ve been weirder if no one talked.
"Take your time. I’ll be here."
Our eyes met—there was curiosity in his gaze.
But that was it. He didn’t see me as a rival.
And that was only natural—for now.
"Before you get to me, you’ll have to beat Jongpal first. That guy’s no pushover."
He smirked.
This perfect prodigy… seriously irritating.
That was how our first meeting ended.
Because his injuries were minor, Lee Mujin left the infirmary before I did.
I only got up to head back to the dorm after the IV drip finished.
It had been… a long day.
When I got up, my eyes naturally drifted to the mirror hanging on the wall.
A bruised face stared back at me covered in purple and blue.
Not just miserable… It was downright pitiful.
Was I really the guy who declared I’d take first place from him?
Damn it. I looked like a joke.
Out on the spacious training field, students were clustered together in groups.
Class training was in progress.
By injecting mana into a smart device, you could input commands.
And when a designated command was spoken aloud you could create—
Instructor Kim Hoon-woon muttered something softly, and a swirling black vortex appeared next to him.
"Like this, you can summon your inventory."
I looked down at the black smart watch on my left wrist.
When I pushed mana into it, a translucent window appeared.
[Mana detected.]
[Mana registration complete.]
[Please input a command.]
“Summon.”
[Registering the command as ‘Summon’. If correct, press YES. If not, press NO.]"l
I pressed YES on the small screen without hesitation.
[Registration complete.]
Right as the message ended, a faint gray vortex appeared to my left.
When I reached in, I felt it—The satisfying grip of something solid in my hand.
Something I had been waiting for.
Slowly, I pulled it out.
The pristine white blade emerged from the vortex, as if shedding a cocoon under my touch.
The grip felt perfect in my hand. This was my new sword.
As expected of one crafted by the academy, it had flawless balance, a satisfying grip, and a faint magical aura lingering along the blade. Everything was perfect.
Holding the sleek weapon in my hand made my heart race—As if I were holding the hand of a lover.
"Did anyone find something in their inventory that’s not their main weapon?"
We were all gathered at the training grounds, receiving our personal inventories and main weapons.
Every student of SEAL Academy stored their main weapon in their smart watch’s inventory system. There was no need to carry it around.
The inventory space typically measured around 2 square meters, though the actual volume could vary depending on the size of one’s weapon. It could hold quite a lot but living things cannot be stored inside.
"You’ll also find your training uniforms inside. Everyone, take them out and change."
There were temporary changing rooms set up nearby.
Left for boys, right for girls.
I stepped into the male changing room, stored my uniform in the inventory, and took out the training gear.
Using the smartwatch, I could view the full list of items stored inside.
The training outfit had a similar design to our formal uniform, but its physical defense and overall comfort had been greatly enhanced.
Looking into the mirror, I saw a version of myself I had always dreamed of—Strong, capable, ready.
Aside from the faint bruises on my face, it was perfect.
"Freakin' loser."
That voice again—the one that ruined my mood the moment I heard it.
Park Jongmal.
"What happened? Got beat up somewhere? You in special training or something? Think all that training will help you beat me?"
People around us laughed. It was Kim Wootae and his crew.
Park Jongmal’s loyal little cronies. I answered calmly.
"I’m just trying to get strong enough to beat you up."
"You? Clawing your way up from the 300s? Please. I even heard you’re an orphan. No wonder you act like a stray mutt."
Guess he’d done some digging. Probably couldn’t understand why someone like me would dare to defy him.
"See, this is the problem with giving weaklings special treatment. That’s how low-level births like you gets in."
Each word stoked the fire in my chest. But I stayed composed—until he dragged my parents into it.
That, I couldn’t forgive.
I hadn’t lived my life in vain, not enough to take this kind of talk lying down.
Still, I didn’t let my emotions take full control. I kept my voice steady.
"Eight years. That’s how long I spent with my parents. I was young, so I don’t remember much..."
"What the hell are you talking about, freak?"
Jongpal scoffed and exchanged glances with his gang, laughing.
"But in that short time, they taught me to respect others. To be kind.”
“What about you? What have you learned, huh?"
"You little—!"
His eyes went wild with rage as he grabbed me by the collar.
"You got no backing, no money, no power. You seriously lost it? Want to die?"
I smirked.
"You only step up when you’ve got backup.
I’m not like that. I stand up when something feels wrong."
"Big talk for someone with nothing! You scared, punk?"
I wasn’t afraid.
"Let’s do this today. I’ve got my weapon now, anyway."
"Puhaha!"
He burst out laughing, then shoved me away with a smirk.
"Good. You better not cry when I send you to see your mommy and daddy, got it?"
His goons howled with laughter.
Even the students who had finished changing lingered to watch the tension build.
"You should at least know when to shut up, like a human being."
My words cut through the laughter, and silence fell over the group.
"You’re old enough to know what to say and what not to, aren’t you?"
"You little bastard... keep running your mouth. We’ll see how long that lasts."
"Hey, the instructor’s coming!"
One student hurriedly warned us, and the situation defused for now.
I left the changing room like nothing had happened—But inside, I was burning.
My chest felt like a furnace.
After the outdoor training, we headed toward the lecture hall.
At the front of the lecture hall, Instructor Kim Hoon-woon was explaining the details of the upcoming Class Training.
"Class Training will be done in groups of five. There are 50 students in our class, meaning we will have 10 teams.”
“One year from now, any cadet who fails to meet the minimum required score will be held back."
The classroom buzzed with murmurs at his words.
SEAL Academy's curriculum was divided by academic years.
At the end of each year, cadets who failed to reach the base score in their final evaluations were automatically retained.
The first time it happened, you were re-enrolled automatically.
But if it happened again, you had to go through the entrance exams all over again.
That’s why everyone was listening with intense focus, eyes full of determination.
Here, being accepted wasn’t the end—It was just the beginning.
The academy's structure naturally led to fierce competition among cadets.
"I assigned the teams myself."
As soon as he said that, a holographic screen appeared, displaying the 10 teams and their members.
"There is no designated team leader. Decide amongst yourselves and submit the name."
"Instructor, I have a question."
A student raised his hand.
The instructor gave him a nod—permission to speak.
"Looking at this list… it seems like the teams are sorted by entrance rank.”
“Isn’t it unfair to put all the lower-ranked students together?"
Looking more closely, it was true.
I was in Team 10—at the very bottom.
They had simply listed all 50 students by rank and grouped them into teams of five, from top to bottom.
Tactical compatibility? Weapon types? None of that had been considered.
It was a completely arbitrary assignment.
The instructor looked at the student and answered flatly:
"All of you want to become capable Hunters. But to do that, you must first survive. You never know what’ll happen on the battlefield. That’s why your first challenge is to survive with what you’re given."
This answer clearly addressed the concern about weapon types.
Some were ranged, others melee, and there were even support types—but team balance had been ignored entirely.
Technically, trades between members were allowed with mutual consent, but that wasn’t the norm.
"Is it unfair for low-ranked students? Of course.
This academy exists to create strong Hunters.
If you think dividing teams by rank is unfair, pack your things and leave.”
“To be clear, the teams were formed based on skill level. The clearest indicator of that is your ranking. If you plan to survive by leeching off others, give up now. This world is survival of the fittest."
His cold eyes swept across the room.
Then came the final line, which lit a strange fire in every cadet’s chest.
"If you don't like it—get stronger."
That line...
It was also our class motto.
~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter End~~~~~~~~~~
