60) Chapter 10. Hey, You—Come Out. (6)
Ah… this is bad.
People already treat me like something unsettling because of my birth mother, and now I’ve used the ability I inherited from her to do that to someone.
Well—saying I did that feels a bit unfair. I was stopped before anything actually happened.
“……”
Sweat trickled down my face as I slowly turned my head. Soi and Chae‑yi were there.
Did they think I was too cruel?
Soi was the daughter of Meteor, after all. Auntie Yujin was more heroic than any hero I’d ever seen—she never hurt villains more than necessary.
But Soi was smiling brightly at me.
And Chae‑yi—
…Huh. She was smiling the same way.
……
Well, Chae‑yi might be different. She is Cheong Hwirin’s daughter.
Considering the villain Cheong Hwirin captured ended up with a face full of scars, maybe Chae‑yi inherited a bit of that merciless streak.
“You’re pretty good after all.”
But the first person to speak wasn’t Soi or Chae‑yi—it was the nun‑instructor, who had followed us here with an oddly expectant look.
“But your expression is weird for someone who won. Why? Not satisfied? Want to go further? That’d be a problem, you know. Even I can’t allow that much.”
“Uh—no, that’s not it.”
I wiped more nervous sweat and glanced around.
Everyone was staring at me silently.
Some had expressions like, I knew it, but most looked thoughtful rather than scared. Not that it made me feel any safer.
“Why?”
“Well…”
I couldn’t answer her “why?” easily.
The words were right there in my head—Doesn’t this ability look creepy?—but saying that felt like admitting too much.
And with Soi and Chae‑yi here, and rumors spreading everywhere, and Auntie Yujin eventually hearing about it… I really didn’t want to bring up the witch.
“S‑Some people might think it looked weird…”
“Weird? How?”
“Like… too cruel?”
“Is using a submission hold in martial arts cruel?”
That answer was so unexpected I blinked.
“Is it… the same?”
“How is it different? You twisted his joint the opposite way to make it hurt. That’s exactly what a submission is. Sure, your form wasn’t textbook, but the principle’s identical. And since you’re using superpowers, of course it won’t look like a normal stance.”
…Is that how it works?
I must’ve looked confused, because the instructor tilted her head like I was the strange one.
“You’ve never watched MMA? They pin someone down with their weight, slip an arm between their legs, and pull the joint backward. If the referee didn’t stop it, the arm would either bend the wrong way or pop out.”
Well… that’s true.
“So what’s the difference between pinning someone with body weight and pinning them with strength? You just replaced strength with your ability.”
Blink, blink.
Hearing it explained like that… I had nothing to say.
Was it really that simple?
But in middle school—
—Ah.
For the first time, I realized something was off about my assumptions.
In middle school, the kids were normal. Even if superpowers existed in the world, using them in front of powerless kids was terrifying and incomprehensible.
But the Academy was different.
Everyone here had powers.
The boy I beat today had been confident before the duel because, in his old school full of normal kids, nothing hurt him. No matter who hit him, he never felt pain.
He thought he could beat anyone. He’d never lost because of his ability.
I was the opposite—I’d been treated as strange because of my ability.
But here, none of that mattered.
Because almost everyone—students and staff—were superhuman.
“If a simple joint lock is ‘cruel,’ then what does that make your friends?”
“Exactly!”
Soi shot her hand up proudly.
“I can burn people to ashes!”
“…I didn’t ask you to go that far.”
The instructor sighed and shook her head at Soi’s enthusiasm.
“I’m not that scary, so relax.”
Chae‑yi quickly added.
Honestly, even when Soi said that, I wasn’t scared. I knew she’d never use it on me.
…But maybe I should be scared for other people’s sake?
Seeing Soi glare at Chae‑yi made me think I should be careful.
Not that glaring would work on Chae‑yi anyway.
“There are plenty of kids with terrifying abilities. Some can sharpen wind into blades. Some can turn parts of their body into knives. Last year, one kid made his body all wobbly and tried to strangle someone with it. Honestly, forget cruelty—how inefficient is that? Might as well carry a rope.”
She grumbled to herself, and I finally remembered the question I’d forgotten to ask.
“W‑What ability do you have, Instructor?”
“Me? I have…”
She stopped muttering, grinned, and said:
“The ability to see abilities.”
“Oh.”
“With just that, I’m basically the boss of the cathedral—even though I’m not officially a priest. Do people still say ‘boss’ these days?”
“……”
“The Association really, really needs my ability. This place is where every superhuman in the country passes through at least once, right?”
“Oh.”
So she saw every superhuman at least once—unless they were from a neglected home or hiding their ability.
And the government or Association could use her insights to prepare countermeasures. If any of these kids became villains later, she could help identify the best people, weapons, or tactics to deal with them.
“So.”
She turned her gaze.
Jinwoo, who had been standing far away with a please don’t notice me expression, flinched.
“Don’t shrink back. I wouldn’t have said you’d win if you were actually going to lose.”
“A‑Ah. Yes.”
I blinked and looked at the boy.
He quickly looked away.
Should I make him apologize?
But then I realized—I didn’t want that.
Not because I was some saint. I just didn’t need his apology.
I’d rather he kept disliking me.
Middle school ended before I could even get that far.
If possible, I wanted him to stay scared of me forever.
“S‑So… is there anything else?”
“Nope. Once you fight, that’s it. Oh, right. This goes on your record.”
“W‑WHAT!?”
The delinquent boy shrieked.
“Of course it does. An instructor had to intervene. If there were no penalties, kids would fight every day. And duels are broadcast on the school network. More viewers means a fairer fight.”
Meaning: if you beat up weaker kids, the whole school will know.
Utter humiliation.
And since it’s official, instructors have more reason to stop unnecessary duels.
“T‑That’s too much! I didn’t know!”
“Not knowing doesn’t erase consequences. You should’ve checked before accepting. And if you had known, would you have refused?”
Honestly, I would’ve hesitated.
“Then—again—!”
“What now?”
The instructor looked at me.
“By the rules, you can’t fight again immediately. But after a few days, once you recover, you can duel again—if both sides agree.”
I looked at the boy.
His mouth twitched. I tried not to laugh, but I probably failed.
Maybe that made my smile look even more mocking.
“N‑No.”
“Why!?”
Obviously because I didn’t want to. Why would I? Even if I felt like I could beat him two or three more times, you never know what might happen.
No need to give him another chance.
Judging by his cold sweat, his parents were probably difficult people too. Like Cheong Hwirin used to be.
I wasn’t going to accept anyway, but simply walking away felt too mild.
I wanted to annoy him just a little more.
“Y‑You.”
Yes. The perfect line for moments like this.
“You suck.”
His face turned bright red.
Ah. I’m glad I picked this fight.
I thought that as I turned away with satisfaction.