Opening fights has been an enduring part of human culture throughout history.
People enjoy comparisons, and the thrill of victory makes it even better.
This inclination eventually led to competitions where not only individuals but their offspring were pitted against one another to determine superiority.
Thus, while the martial arts world had the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, South Korea had the Comprehensive Exchange Competition.
Both served a similar purpose: showcasing the skills of top talents from each group.
The difference was in scale—while the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering was a local event seen by a few hundred, the Comprehensive Exchange Competition was broadcast globally, easily amassing hundreds of millions of views.
The scale was on a different level.
[Boss Raid Simulation in Progress. 13th Run. Applying Environmental Variables.]
We were deep in preparation training for the upcoming Comprehensive Exchange Competition.
Officially, the goal was to control Kang Han’s berserk tendencies while harmonizing with other top-ranking cadets.
In reality, it was all a procedure to prove that Kang Han was a safe berserker.
Just recently, the world was in turmoil due to Damian Kreutz’s rampage.
If Kang Han, a newcomer and a recognized talent, were to show instability as a berserker, the academy or government would likely move to eliminate him to preempt global criticism.
If that happened, everything would collapse—not just my efforts but humanity’s future as well.
[Recording Start.]
Beep!
“I won’t let that happen.”
So, I resolved to give it my all with the time remaining.
After training, I noticed unfamiliar cadets.
They were sitting in the orientation room, chatting.
Their presence felt noticeably out of place.
Jin Mugyeol frowned, glaring at someone occupying his seat.
“Who are they? Foreigners?”
“Oh, that’s it,” Kwak Dohyeong chimed in knowingly.
“They’re here early to acclimate for the Comprehensive Exchange Competition. Probably participants for this year’s event.”
“So, they’re the top-ranking students from other countries, like us?”
“That’s about right.”
Hearing this, Jin Mugyeol strode over.
“Hey, move.”
“Hmm?”
He spoke without hesitation, so I assumed he was fluent in foreign languages.
Then I remembered that South Korea in this world was portrayed as a dominant central currency nation, surpassing even the United States.
The moment Korean fluently came out of peers with different skin, hair, and eye colors, I finally felt the weight of that setting.
It seemed foreign cadets had prepared to understand our language, allowing for basic communication without learning foreign languages or relying on translation magic.
‘So, this is what national power feels like.’
While I was quietly marveling at the implications, Jin Mugyeol, after a brief conversation with the foreign cadets, grabbed his spear with a fiery expression.
Though I wasn’t sure what had happened, the atmosphere was tense enough to suggest someone might end up bloodied if it continued for just a few more seconds.
The air grew colder with each passing moment, and attention fixated on the brewing conflict.
At that moment, someone stepped in to mediate.
“That’s enough.”
“Kang Han?”
Among the foreign cadets, someone recognized Kang Han.
“You, berserker?”
“Yeah.”
When Kang Han nodded, a few foreign cadets approached him directly.
They wasted no time.
“Let’s fight, Kang Han. Show us that famous berserker trait of yours.”
“Here?”
“We don’t mind.”
“I do. If you’re that eager, wait until tomorrow’s official training.”
Having said his piece, Kang Han turned to leave.
It was then that a faint taunt reached him from behind.
“Coward.”
Kang Han, who had been walking toward me, paused so briefly that it was almost imperceptible.
But he soon regained his usual composure.
It seemed this kind of provocation wasn’t enough to shake his resolve.
I couldn’t help but feel a bit proud, reassured that all his training hadn’t gone to waste.
I nudged Kang Han in the side.
“You’re holding up well.”
“This much is nothing.”
“Want me to treat you to something nice?”
“This time, it’s on me.”
The foreign cadets’ presence was momentarily interesting, but that was all.
To me, they were nameless extras not worth remembering.
Just as we were about to leave the orientation room, another voice stopped us in our tracks.
“Hey, is she your girlfriend?”
We froze.
It seemed these guys were determined to provoke the berserker’s anger.
When Kang Han didn’t react, they escalated their taunts, raising their volume and pressing further.
“By the way, how does a berserker manage in bed?”
Suddenly, I was dragged into their crude jokes.
“Doesn’t he go crazy the moment he pops his girlfriend’s cherry? Seeing blood and all?”
“Then how’s she still alive?”
“It’s gotta be one of two things: either they haven’t done it yet, or she’s so small there’s no blood at all.”
“Pfft, hahaha!”
Their vulgar remarks continued, crossing the line entirely.
At this point, it wasn’t banter—it was blatant harassment designed to provoke Kang Han into throwing the first punch.
Jin Mugyeol and Kwak Dohyeong, who were with us, watched the foreign cadets with faces colder than ice.
The tension was so thick it felt like a single misstep could spark chaos.
Despite this, no one acted, because the one who had the right to be angriest—Kang Han—was still holding himself back.
“Kh… sss… huuuh…”
The veins on Kang Han’s temples bulged as he clenched his teeth and took deep breaths.
His eyes had already glazed over in rage, but somehow, he was holding on.
I couldn’t help but be amazed.
‘What kind of patience is this?’
He was practically in a berserk state already, yet no blood had been spilled.
This was our last chance.
I grabbed Kang Han’s sleeve and tried to pull him away.
If he ended up committing murder this early in the story, I’d feel utterly devastated.
“Hey, you’re doing great. Let’s just keep going, nice and slow…”
Kang Han silently followed my lead, but the damned cadets wouldn’t stop.
“Hey, girl! Forget that virgin loser and come with me—I’ll show you a real night to remember!”
That last comment was the final straw.
They say counting to three can prevent murder.
What happens when you get to four?
Unfortunately, I’ll never find out.
Kang Han’s limit was three.
“What are you trying to accomplish by causing such a mess on the very first day?”
The supervisor let out a sigh as she gazed out the window at the ambulances coming and going.
Though her expression betrayed neither surprise nor regret, she fulfilled her duties with diligence.
That was the kind of hunter Han Se-ah was—the supervisor we had come to know.
“There will be disciplinary action. Any objections?”
Kang Han and I shook our heads firmly.
Objections? Of course not.
We had just welcomed foreign cadets, who arrived early to prepare for the Comprehensive Exchange Competition, by gifting them injuries ranging from orbital fractures to… worse.
The ones who suffered the most were those who received the infamous “infertility kick.”
These were the same jerks who had tried to humiliate me with vulgar taunts.
They would recover in the hospital eventually, but if they were unlucky, they might end up like me—permanently infertile.
And for men, “infertility” often carried a harsher nickname: “eunuch.”
Though I hadn’t been the one to inflict the injuries, as someone responsible for managing Kang Han, I felt a mix of satisfaction—no, accountability.
Han Se-ah continued.
“This incident will also be reported to the association. Specifically, that Kang Han assaulted someone to the brink of death over a dispute.”
“Supervisor, that’s not…!”
“Once the results are out, there’s nothing I can do to stop the report from going up. Just be aware of that. Because of this, the association will likely raise their evaluation of Cadet Kang Han’s danger level, which may result in certain disadvantages in the future.”
Han Se-ah spoke with her usual detached tone.
“Of course, we should hear the full story before making judgments. How exactly did they provoke Cadet Kang Han? Or perhaps Cadet Yi-dam?”
“Well…”
I hesitated, glancing at Kang Han.
Kang Han, who had been a terrifying embodiment of fury when dealing with the foreign cadets, now looked like a burnt-out candle, utterly subdued.
After observing him for a moment, I decided to speak up.
I recounted the events truthfully, sharing what I had heard and experienced.
“They asked if Kang Han and I had slept together.”
“And?”
“They asked if berserkers go crazy at the sight of virgin blood. Then if Kang Han lost it when we were together.”
Scribble, scribble.
The sound of Han Se-ah’s pen filled the quiet office.
After a moment, she abruptly closed her notebook with a decisive snap.
“I see. Understood.”
“Supervisor? Where are you going?”
“The foreign cadets who arrived early for the competition are also under my jurisdiction. It seems there’s an issue, so I’ll have to address it. You two may leave.”
With a faint smile, Han Se-ah patted my shoulder and left the office.
“She knows how to smile?”
“Apparently…”
Her parting words sounded suspiciously like she was heading off to deal with trash.
Or was that just my imagination?