How to Live as a Fencing Genius Hunter - Chapter 7

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

How a Fencing Prodigy Lives as a Hunter
Chapter 7
Top Ranker (2)
Hong Si-yu received a report that Jung Jae-ha was hopeless with a gun.
‘Well, Awakened Hunters don’t need to shoot. Not everyone can be good at everything.’
She bore him no ill will.
Marksmanship had never been a critical skill for Awakened Hunters anyway.
“One point per hour, six points a week, and twelve points total over the remaining two weeks. Would that be acceptable?”
Twelve points would precisely make up for what he’d lost in the shooting evaluation.
“Thank you.”
Jung Jae-ha bowed with courteous precision.
“Not at all. We’re the grateful ones. Oh, we’ll accept applications for students on our end and send them your way. That works for you, doesn’t it?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m counting on you for these next two weeks. If you do well, I’ll make sure to reward you generously, so give it your absolute best. Understood?”
Hong Si-yu appreciated his clean manner.
Squeak.
She watched his back as he left the room, thinking.
How wonderful it would be if people simply showed gratitude where it was due and apologized where necessary.
How wonderful if everyone were like that.
‘I hope he’s someone worth cultivating.’
Hong Si-yu did not enjoy this business.
She was an Awakened One who had survived in isolated Seoul by fighting Monsters and marauders before finally escaping.
She felt a chill at the very thought of shameless criminals.
‘Those wretched bastards.’
Yet this nation now found itself in a state where survival meant scavenging through garbage bins to find something edible.
It was with such resolve that she had launched this venture, and in it she discovered Jung Jae-ha.
He was a lotus blooming in the mud.
And if that flower could draw other seeds up with it—well, that would be ideal.
“Lee.”
“Yes, Section Chief?”
Hong Si-yu had learned over the past four years of the Age of Ruin that one must not stint on investment in talent.
“Put in an order for a Status Window Ring.”
“Isn’t that Artifact too expensive to give to those with criminal backgrounds?”
When you decided to back someone, you had to back them decisively.
“Have the Center own it and lease it out. We’ll award one or two only to those ranked first or second, and so forth.”
“Understood.”
Jung Jae-ha deserved to gain a skill.
‘Surely I can breeze through the tutorial’s top-ranker evaluation.’
Hong Si-yu smiled smoothly and pulled up Jung Jae-ha’s personal record.
It was the paperwork necessary to hire him as an external instructor.
‘So he has a younger sister.’
[Younger sister Jung Chae-ha. Major in guitar and singer-songwriter. Had been very close with the candidate…….]
‘Jung Chae-ha? Where have I heard that name?’
An unfamiliar name appeared in the document.
‘If my memory serves, she’d have to be either a Hunter or a civil servant. At minimum, someone as strong or highly positioned as I am.’
She couldn’t recall why the name seemed familiar.
“Lee.”
“Yes?”
“Check with the Awakening Management Bureau and see if you can locate someone named Jung Chae-ha.”
“Is she family of Awakened One Jung Jae-ha? You’re quite considerate.”
“Well, you should give people what they’d want, shouldn’t you? If you want to keep them around.”
Yet as she murmured that name aloud, for some reason a chill ran down her spine.
* * *
Two days later.
“The athlete has arrived!”
“Welcome!”
I encountered the Awakened Ones at the Gymnasium where I’d had that Swordsmanship training session.
“Huh?”
“Thank you so much for that advice the other day!”
Lee Hae-il was sitting at the very front of the dais.
Eyes brimming with a light like scattered sunbeams gleamed as they fixed on me, bright and sharp.
They kept darting toward the door with an anxious flicker, but the smooth curve of the neck visible in those moments suggested the person was indeed female.
Why she was cross-dressing and mingling with the male inmates, I couldn’t say—nor did I particularly care to know.
She was here to learn, and that was enough.
“Good afternoon. I’m Jung Jae-ha, and I’ve been assigned to conduct additional swordsmanship instruction after regular classes. To briefly outline my background……”
I introduced myself and the curriculum in turn.
“First, I’ll provide a brief overview of modern swordsmanship theory, then we’ll move into practical application.”
Having served as a guest instructor multiple times at my alma mater, I had reasonable confidence in my teaching ability.
“Jung Jae-ha!”
Bang!
The gymnasium door burst open as if shattered.
Kim Gang-o stood there, scorpion tattoos rippling across both forearms as he breathed in sharp, ragged gasps.
In his hand was a long blade with a crude, jagged edge.
A homemade sword fashioned from a bed frame’s metal tubing.
I’d once heard a guard mention that inmates could fashion weapons in ways like that.
And here he’d taken the trouble to make one.
Industrious fellow.
“This bastard pairs everyone else up and leaves me out? You making fun of me? Or are you scared of me?”
He swung the blade menacingly toward Lee Hae-il and several others, as if to run them through.
“Tell me the criteria you used to exclude me. If you can’t answer that, I’m not letting any of these bastards walk away from this.”
Lee Hae-il and the others who had been singled out drew sharp, panicked breaths at the raw, brutal aggression only a thug could project.
For some reason, I felt that Kim Gang-o was fixated on Lee Hae-il.
He seemed far more enraged by the fact that she had been paired up than by his own exclusion.
But none of that really mattered.
Hong Si-yu would have anticipated this much, and I’d prepared myself for it too.
In the world of athletics, those who contest the verdict of selection have just as many reasons not to—those rules run deep.
“Well, everyone. Let me adjust our schedule. I’ll introduce what you’ll be learning over the next two weeks.”
And the industry has its own ways of purging such people.
“I’ll demonstrate how to subdue an opponent, so watch the movements carefully.”
I grabbed a blunt practice sword from the table on the platform.
“You bastard!”
Kim Gang-o lunged at me, the homemade blade thrust forward.
“Whoa—what?”
“Watch out!”
The Awakened Ones scattered left and right, clearing a path.
Murder blazed in Kim Gang-o’s eyes.
Looking at that expression, the corner of my mouth twitched upward.
“……”
I knew it was madness, but the situation was far from unpleasant.
In fact, it felt almost welcome.
I wielded the blade with a complexity of feeling I rarely indulged.
Usually, I held a sword with respect for my opponent and pride in myself.
That was good enough, and it had to be.
I couldn’t truly regard a tournament opponent or a club training partner as an enemy.
But the sword itself was born to cut and pierce enemies.
There were opponents against whom I wanted to display pure skill without restraint, to bring them down without a trace of guilt.
In modern society, such opponents were rare.
So whenever ruffians came looking to break into a dojo, I’d always felt a secret thrill.
Just like today.
“Die!”
Prey had walked straight into my reach.
Kim Gang-o’s blade arced toward my left shoulder.
It was a reasonably sharp attack, despite his character.
For an amateur, at least.
“Parade Quarte Riposte!”
Clang!
“Huh—?”
I called out the technique name loudly and batted his blade aside with ease.
“……!?”
Kim Gang-o’s face contorted as though something impossible had just occurred.
“Surprised?”
I wanted to see that expression.
You learned swordsmanship to torment others, but you’ll never defeat me—someone who savors the art itself. That’s the sharp thrust I’d meant to deliver.
By nature, the superior prove their worth by crushing the inferior.
I jabbed Kim Gang-o’s left shoulder playfully.
Since it was a practice sword, it wouldn’t pierce, but he’d have a bruise.
“Wow!”
Gasps erupted among the Awakened Ones.
Those gasps steadied my center.
I could have subdued Kim Gang-o outright, but I chose not to.
“Now. Parade Quarte Riposte. It means ‘defend against an attack from the upper left with the fourth position, then counterattack.'”
This stage was mine, but it was theirs as well.
“I’ll show you all six positions, so remember them well.”
I steadied my breath and continued the lesson.
* * *
The Coach—the man who once called me the greatest swordsman under heaven—had one thing he said every single day.
‘Jae-ha. What is martial arts chivalry? Martial Arts Chivalry—righteousness and valor, yes? And that’s precisely why martial arts exist: for the weak to stand against the tyranny of the strong.’
‘Coach. I’m a fencer of the twenty-first century. Not the hero of some eleventh-century martial arts tale.’
‘Listen to me. This becomes bone and sinew—true advice. Yes, I said martial arts are for the weak to stand against the strong, right? Which is why defense matters more than offense in martial arts.’
Defense matters more than offense.
‘You’re so talented that for now you can win with pure aggression, but someday you’ll hit a ceiling. You must drill defense and counterattack until they become instinct.’
Leaving aside all that talk about martial arts chivalry, everything he said was true.
“Some of you might wonder: isn’t swordsmanship just about thrusting wildly and being done with it?”
Martial arts is a technical system for defeating a strong opponent ‘without taking damage myself.’
“It’s a foolish question, and anyone who’s studied martial arts knows that—but when you ask why it’s foolish, most people stumble over their words.”
So whether it’s kendo, fencing, Western swordplay, or bare-knuckle fighting like MMA, the essence is always one thing.
“Simple. You can’t protect yourself just by thrusting and striking wildly.”
Defense creates the opening for me to attack safely.
“When you block your opponent’s attack, their movement breaks, and inevitably a gap appears. That’s when you drive your blade right through it.”
I spoke loudly enough for all two hundred scattered Awakened Ones to hear.
“What—what the hell is this!? Are you toying with me!?”
Kim Gang-o’s face flushed crimson as he bellowed.
He raised his homemade sword again.
Whoosh!
This time he came at my right leg.
If he was thinking of my accident history, that was decent strategy.
Clang, sharp crack!
Parade Octave Riposte.
I deflected it easily and drove my blade deep into his ribs.
Thud!
“Ugh!”
I’d struck hard between his ribs—he’d have trouble catching his breath.

“Parade Octave Riposte. The eighth position defending the lower right, followed by counterattack.”
Because Kim Gang-o’s speed had slowed, I could demonstrate an even more stable form.
“Aaaaagh!”
“Ah, there it is again. The fourth position defending the upper left. Parade Quarte Riposte. You’ve seen it twice now, so you’d better remember it.”
This wasn’t merely the difference between fencing and kendo.
‘So my student became the world’s greatest swordsman. Heh heh.’
From the start, I’d learned modern kendo, old-school Japanese swordsmanship, Western blade work, even knife throwing.
What matters isn’t which martial art you learn, but which fierce rivals you’ve trained alongside and grown through them.
If Kim Gang-o ever faced a third-degree instructor from some local dojo, he’d lose all ten matches.
“Parade means defense. All that talk of Sixte and Quarte in between—those are position numbers, sixth position, fourth position, and Riposte means counterattack.”
“Jung Jae-ha!”
“Difficult, isn’t it? Because French and English are mixed together. Still, if you focus, you’ll get used to it, so everyone stay sharp, all right?”
It was so easy I was almost getting irritated.
My opponent was far too weak to be genuinely fun.
“Are you mocking me!? Damn it!”
“You blocked my left leg and I thrust. That’s Parade Septime Riposte. The seventh position defending the lower left, then counterattack. That’s what it means.”
To make threats like ‘I’ll kill you’ with only this level of skill—did he feel no shame?
“I’ll kill you! Aaagh, aaaaagh! Damn it, my eyes!”
“This time, the Parade Neuvième Riposte. It’s the ninth position that guards the shoulder and neck while countering. It shares common ground with the Quinte, which is the fifth defensive position.”
Still, an opponent genuinely trying to beat me was rare enough that I should treat this one with a measure of respect.
Clang, bang!
I moved through my defense and counterattack with deliberate slowness.
Laughter kept threatening to bubble up, and I had to suppress it.
My facial muscles kept twitching.
For four years in prison, I’d had nothing to laugh about, but since arriving at the training center, there’d been plenty of reasons to smile.
With each attack, Kim Gang-o took a hit in exactly the spot he’d been aiming for, and he’d stumble or let out a groan of pain.
Of course, he didn’t fall.
Not because he was that resilient.
I was holding back my strength.
Six positions in total: head, neck, upper left, upper right, lower left, and lower right.
I needed to keep him coming at me until I could show him all six.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————