Chapter 4 – The Laws of Strength
----------------------------------------
Shinhwa Martial Arts High was a battlefield.
But it was still a school.
No matter how much blood was spilled in underground arenas or how many students were carried out of sparring sessions unconscious, the foundation of Shinhwa was still education—though the kind that trained monsters instead of scholars.
And today, Kang Jinhyuk was about to experience one of its infamous lectures firsthand.
----------------------------------------
THE LECTURE HALL WAS VAST, ITS WALLS LINED WITH MURALS OF LEGENDARY FIGHTERS FROM DIFFERENT ERAS—WARRIORS WHO HAD ONCE RULED SHINHWA, NOW IMMORTALIZED IN PAINT. THE ROOM WAS PACKED WITH STUDENTS, SOME ENGAGED IN QUIET CONVERSATIONS, OTHERS SHARPENING THEIR FOCUS FOR WHATEVER BRUTAL LESSON AWAITED.
Jinhyuk found a seat in the middle row, leaning back as he took in the crowd.
Most students looked dangerous. Some had scars, others had the confident air of people who had already proven their worth in the underground rings.
He ignored the stares thrown his way. His first fight had made an impression, but he knew better than to get complacent.
A deep, powerful voice cut through the murmurs.
“Silence.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
A tall, broad-shouldered man walked onto the raised platform at the front of the hall. His body was wrapped in a dark training gi, and his arms—thick as steel cables—were crisscrossed with scars. His gaze alone was enough to make some students sit up straighter.
Kang Jinhyuk felt it instantly.
This man wasn’t just a teacher.
He was a predator.
“Welcome, first-years,” the man said, voice like rolling thunder. “I am Instructor Baek Seongjun.”
Baek Seongjun.
The name alone was enough to cause whispers.
Jinhyuk didn’t know much about the instructors, but even he had heard of Baek Seongjun.
A retired underground champion. A man whose body count in street fights was rumored to be in the triple digits. Some said he had once killed a man in the ring with a single punch.
The fact that he was a teacher here meant one thing—Shinhwa was not just a school.
It was a warzone.
Baek Seongjun’s sharp gaze scanned the room.
“You are here to learn martial arts,” he said. “But if you think that means just throwing punches and kicks, then you’re nothing but infants crawling in the dark.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
He turned and, with a single motion, slammed his fist into the steel podium.
BOOM!
The entire podium dented.
The room fell into dead silence.
Jinhyuk felt his muscles tense. That wasn’t just brute force. That was precision, control—power condensed into a single strike.
Baek Seongjun withdrew his fist and rested his hands behind his back.
“Strength is not just about power. It is about knowledge. And today, you will learn what separates the weak from the strong.”
A projector came to life, displaying a human body on the screen.
Baek Seongjun gestured toward it.
“There are 206 bones in the human body. 640 muscles. And thousands of nerves.”
His eyes gleamed.
“And every single one of them can be broken.”
Some students swallowed hard.
Baek Seongjun continued. “A true fighter does not waste energy. A true fighter knows where to strike, when to strike, and how to strike.”
Jinhyuk leaned forward, interest piqued.
Baek Seongjun walked toward the edge of the stage. “If you break the collarbone, the arm loses power. If you target the solar plexus, you can force your opponent into shock. If you attack the femoral nerve, you can cripple them instantly.”
He turned, his gaze locking onto a student in the front row.
“You.”
The student stiffened.
“Stand up.”
He did.
Baek Seongjun moved so fast it was almost impossible to react.
His fingers jabbed forward—light, almost casual—striking just below the student's ribs.
The student collapsed instantly.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
Baek Seongjun stepped back. “I barely used any force. But I hit a cluster of nerves. If I had struck harder, he would have blacked out.”
Jinhyuk felt a chill.
This… was not just martial arts.
This was assassination disguised as combat training.
Baek Seongjun turned back to the class. “This is your first lesson. Strength is not just muscle. It is knowledge. Learn, or be left behind.”
----------------------------------------
THE LECTURE ENDED, BUT THE INTENSITY IN THE ROOM LINGERED. STUDENTS LEFT IN HUSHED CONVERSATIONS, SOME SHAKING THEIR HEADS, OTHERS WITH DETERMINED EYES.
Jinhyuk was deep in thought as he stepped into the hallway.
And that’s when he saw her.
A girl stood at the end of the corridor, leaning casually against the wall.
Long black hair tied in a loose ponytail. Sharp, fox-like eyes filled with confidence. She wore the standard Shinhwa uniform, but the way she carried herself…
She wasn’t just another student.
She was a ranker.
Jinhyuk knew it the moment she met his gaze.
The air around her was different. Dangerous.
And then—
She smirked.
“So you’re the new guy causing all the noise.”
Jinhyuk tilted his head. “Depends. Who’s asking?”
The girl pushed off the wall and walked toward him.
“Choi Yeonhwa. First-year. Rank 72.”
The number hit like a hammer.
A first-year already in the Top 100.
That meant only one thing—she was a monster.
Jinhyuk studied her. “You don’t look that strong.”
She laughed. “And you don’t look that smart.”
Jinhyuk’s lips curled. He liked her already.
Yeonhwa stepped closer, hands in her pockets. “I saw your fight. Not bad. But you’re still not Top 100.”
Jinhyuk shrugged. “Yet.”
She raised a brow. “Ambitious.”
Then, in a blur, she moved.
Jinhyuk barely had time to react. A fist stopped just short of his throat. The speed—insane. The precision—flawless.
He hadn’t even seen it coming.
Yeonhwa smirked. “You’re slow.”
Jinhyuk’s heart pounded. He hadn’t felt this kind of pressure since…
Since Han Daehyun.
He exhaled, stepping back. “You testing me?”
“Maybe.” She grinned. “Or maybe I’m just curious. Either way—keep climbing. I want to see if you’re worth fighting.”
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Jinhyuk standing in the hallway, heart still racing.
He clenched his fists.
Baek Seongjun had shown him knowledge.
Choi Yeonhwa had shown him speed.
And both had made one thing painfully clear.
Shinhwa was not a school.
It was a jungle.
And if he wanted to survive, he needed to evolve—fast.
----------------------------------------
END OF CHAPTER 4.