I Thought I Was Bullying a Nobody, But He's a Martial Arts Genius - Chapter 13

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Fighting Genius Unaware: Episode 013
“Fight!”
The referee signal dropped.
Seo Jun bent his knees and drove his center of gravity sharply downward.
His gaze locked firmly onto Jo Min-sung’s feet and shoulders.
In his mind, Do Yun’s sharp advice from the waiting room flickered past.
‘Remember. He’ll definitely come in hard with a takedown from the opening bell.’
Do Yun’s voice had been certain.
‘Don’t even think about reckless leg kicks or high kicks. The second your leg comes up, he’ll catch it and drag you to the mat.’
‘Watch for a counter knee kick as he comes in. Or else pick him apart ruthlessly with quick jabs and straights.’
A tailor-made strategy for a striker facing an elite grappler.
Do Yun’s precise coaching had taken root in Seo Jun’s mind as solid tactical doctrine.
“Huh.”
Seo Jun exhaled sharply and centered himself.
In that same moment, Jo Min-sung closed the distance with long strides, his malformed arms hanging loosely.
It wasn’t the footwork of someone preparing to strike.
It was the coiled posture of a predator ready to explode toward the ground at any instant.
‘Engagement range.’
Jo Min-sung’s pupils sharpened.
Seo Jun had stepped into his takedown window.
Thump!
Jo Min-sung’s front foot drove hard into the mat.
Simultaneously his upper body dropped from view in a blur, and he surged forward with ferocious intent.
“Whoa!”
A collective gasp erupted from the crowd.
A perfectly timed low takedown.
Most strikers wouldn’t have reacted in time—they’d have given up their legs instantly.
But Seo Jun’s eyes were wider than usual.
‘His shoulder dropped first, then his gaze shifted toward my hips.’
Supernatural dynamic vision.
Jo Min-sung’s swift, threatening charge fragmented across Seo Jun’s retinas like slow motion.
Seo Jun’s rear foot snapped off the mat with sharp precision.
Whoosh.
A flawless side step, economical and smooth.
Seo Jun’s body shifted right by half a step, slipping entirely clear of Jo Min-sung’s trajectory.
Crack!
Boom!
Jo Min-sung’s arms sliced through empty air.
[Seo Jun! He’s evaded Jo Min-sung’s lightning-fast takedown with a light step!]
The caster’s excited shout hammered through the speakers.
[Incredible reflexes! He read the timing perfectly!]
Jo Min-sung, his takedown whiffed, spun his body around urgently.
The face of the grappler now turned back toward Seo Jun was caught clearly by the broadcast camera.
[Wait—hold on. Jo Min-sung’s face…?]
The commentator’s voice filled with bewilderment.
Jo Min-sung’s left cheek was flushed bright red.
[Did he land a punch in that split second as they passed?!]
[That hand speed is insane! He threw a jab the moment he evaded!]
At the commentary team’s shocked outburst, the arena stirred with murmurs.
“…….”
Jo Min-sung ran his tongue over the tender skin of his swollen cheek.
A dull ache throbbed unpleasantly through his skull.
Missing the takedown had stung, but worse—he’d given up a clean strike in that brief evasion window.
‘He saw my entire charge speed with his own eyes?’
Jo Min-sung’s brows drew down sharply.
This hadn’t been luck.
That calm, unflinching gaze—it was as though he could read every contraction of muscle.
That stare planted a sharp edge of wariness down Jo Min-sung’s spine.

* * *
After the first collision, the air inside the cage had grown heavy and suffocating.
Jo Min-sung’s footwork became noticeably more cautious.
He circled endlessly at a distance, his unnaturally long arms dangling loose, unable to close the gap with any conviction.
His earlier mindless charges had vanished. Seo Jun, too, maintained a strict distance, methodically studying every opening in his opponent’s guard.
[An unexpected turn of events. Jo Min-sung isn’t advancing!]
The caster’s urgent voice cut through the speaker.
[That punch from the first exchange has lodged itself deep in his mind. He’s instinctively realized that a careless takedown attempt could cost him his chin to a counter.]
The commentary panel offered their precise analysis.
A suffocating deadlock. Yet it was Jo Min-sung who felt the pressure.
Clack!
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Jo Min-sung stepped forward.
This time it wasn’t a reckless low takedown. He kept his torso upright, hurling rough strikes as he tried to close the distance.
Whoosh!
A wide arc of a hook tore through empty air.
But Seo Jun’s obsidian gaze tracked its trajectory with perfect clarity all the way through.
‘His shoulder’s too exposed.’
Seo Jun’s upper body leaned back with fluid precision.
The fist grazed past his chin in that razor-thin gap of vulnerability.
Seo Jun’s rear foot snapped against the mat with elastic force, and a right straight exploded outward.
Crack!
“Ughh!”
With a sharp report, Jo Min-sung’s head snapped violently backward.
[A direct hit! A perfect counter from Seo Jun!]
[The power is devastating! Jo Min-sung’s jaw lifted—his whole lower body came off the ground!]
The broadcast team erupted in excited exclamations.
Staggering backward, Jo Min-sung roughly rubbed his jaw with his gloves. It had been a crushing impact—his vision flashed white.
“Hey, Jo Min-sung!”
From the blue corner, a man who appeared to be the coach seized the cage fence and barked urgently.
“Keep your neck tight and get in there! Push through the shots!”
It was the bench’s desperate yet clear-eyed judgment: there was no way to win a striking exchange.
At that shout, Jo Min-sung bit down hard on his mouthpiece. His wavering pupils hardened with vicious resolve.
Thud!
Jo Min-sung charged forward again, this time with ferocious intensity.
It was a one-two combination—a quick jab from the lead hand followed by a straight from the rear hand.
Whoosh-whoosh!
Seo Jun’s abnormal dynamic vision flashed bright once more.
He took a smooth side step, timing it perfectly with the incoming jab.
Next came the heavy straight. Seo Jun bent his knees and flowed the punch smoothly above his head with a fluid weave.
‘Now.’
With the opening perfectly read, Seo Jun’s left hook shot up sharply toward Jo Min-sung’s exposed face.
Thwack!
The sickening crunch of bone and glove echoed through the cage.
A clean hit—dead on the jaw.
Seo Jun expected him to stumble back, his head snapping from the impact.
“…What?”
But Seo Jun’s eyes widened slightly.
Jo Min-sung didn’t retreat.
His thick neck was corded with veins, bulging like serpents.
Following his coach’s instructions, he’d braced his neck like it was set in concrete, absorbing the full force of the counter without giving an inch.
‘He came forward while taking the hit.’
Inhuman toughness paired with stubborn, brutal determination.
Even through the impact of the strike, Jo Min-sung’s eyes remained fixed, predatory, locked solely on Seo Jun’s lower body.
In an instant, the distance collapsed entirely.
Jo Min-sung’s unnaturally long arms surged toward Seo Jun’s thighs.
‘Sprawl!’
Seo Jun’s hips jerked back reflexively, scrambling for defense.
But Jo Min-sung’s grip was faster.
Both arms locked firmly around the back of Seo Jun’s thighs.
“Got you, you bastard.”
Jo Min-sung’s voice was a bestial snarl.
Flash!
The elite wrestler’s explosive strength erupted like a volcano.
With Seo Jun’s lower body locked in place, his torso was wrenched helplessly through the air.
His vision spun, and the blinding fluorescent lights of the cage ceiling swept past his eyes.
It was an overwhelming wrestling takedown that left no room for defense.
Crash!!
With a heavy grinding sound, Seo Jun’s back slammed brutally onto the mat.
“Ugh…!”
The oxygen in his lungs exploded outward all at once.
The pain of suffocation crashed through his entire body.
Without missing a beat, Jo Min-sung twisted his body and pressed down heavily on Seo Jun’s torso.
It was the perfect half guard position, one of Seo Jun’s legs pinned beneath him.
“Ngh…”
The crushing weight of Jo Min-sung’s body bore down on Seo Jun’s chest like a vice.
Jo Min-sung pressed his sweat-soaked face close to Seo Jun’s ear and laughed, his breath sharp and metallic.
“Now we’re in my world.”

* * *
Thud!
The heavy impact reverberated through the broadcast speakers and filled Axis Stadium.
A simultaneous gasp erupted from Team Jujak’s section of the stands.
“No!”
“Damn it, he got caught after all!”
A-yeon grabbed her head in her hands, and Tae-su drove his fist down hard against his own knee.
The striker had yielded the ground to the grappler.
The meaning was painfully clear.
Ryu Tae-hwan, arms crossed as he’d been silently watching the cage, clicked his tongue sharply.
“It’s over.”
At Tae-hwan’s decisive pronouncement, Tae-su turned with a look of despair.
“Already? We’re barely into the first round!”
“Ground fighting exists on a different level of experience. He’s an elite wrestler who’s spent his whole life rolling on the mat.”
Tae-hwan gestured with his chin toward Jo Min-sung, who now dominated the superior position with iron control.
“And he’s given up a perfect half guard. The odds of a beginner trained only in strikes breaking through that pressure and escaping are zero. Right now, he’s probably struggling just to breathe.”
No one challenged that cold analysis.
Even Tae-su, who yesterday had tapped out in ten seconds to that sticky grappling, could only bite his lip in frustration.
A heavy shadow of defeat settled over Team Jujak’s section.
Then it came.
“Is that so?”
A voice cast out carelessly, without affect.
All eyes turned to Jin Hyeok, slouched at the back row.
With his chin propped on his hand, he stared through the cage with eyes devoid of any emotional disturbance—eyes that saw everything.
“Jin Hyeok. Do you really think that situation is going to reverse?”
Even at Tae-hwan’s weighty question, Jin Hyeok didn’t shift his gaze.
On his retina, the minute movements of Seo Jun’s lower body—pinned and compressed against the mat—were crystalline and sharp.
For a typical striker, this would be the moment to panic and thrash, hemorrhaging stamina.
But Seo Jun’s hips were already curling at a minute angle, creating the precise geometry of escape.
‘The choke I caught him in before—he broke it apart in no time flat.’
The corners of Jin Hyeok’s mouth twisted upward in the faintest smile.
That aberrant flexibility he’d glimpsed during sparring months ago, that eerie gift for rapid learning.
Jin Hyeok settled back deeply into his seat and spoke softly to himself.
“For a striker, he knows how to breathe on his back in a way that’s almost obscenely practiced.”
The answer, deliberately cynical.
Jin Hyeok’s sharp gaze remained locked on Seo Jun, caught in Jo Min-sung’s web, waiting to see what transformation he would produce.

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