Training

Minho was found lying outside my condo near the street, covered in bruises. After I knocked him out last night, I decided to put him outside the condo, near the streets. Now, the whole school is buzzing with whispers and gasps, the story spreading like wildfire. As I sit in class, I can't help but replay the scene in my mind, my stomach churning with a mixture of satisfaction and dread.

As I sit there, snippets of conversation reach my ears.

"Did you hear about Minho? They say someone beat him up badly."

"Yeah, they found him near the school gates. He was barely conscious."

I take a deep breath and try to focus on the lesson, but my mind keeps drifting back to the events of the previous night.

Finally, the door swung open, and there she was, our first period teacher, striding into the room with purpose. Her presence commanded attention, and the chatter died down instantly as we turned our focus to her.

I watched as she made her way to the front of the classroom, her steps deliberate and confident. There was a quiet authority in her demeanor, tempered by a warmth that hinted at the care she had for her students.

"Settle down," she said, her voice cutting through the buzz of excitement that filled the classroom. It was a command, but there was a gentle authority in her tone that made it more of a request than an order.

Instantly, the room quieted, the restless energy of my classmates dissipating as we turned our attention to her. There was a sense of respect in the air, a recognition of her authority as our teacher.

After a couple of minutes, feeling a growing restlessness, I decided to take a bathroom break. Quietly, I gathered my things and slipped out of the classroom, careful not to disturb the flow of the lesson.

As I made my way down the hallway, the familiar sights and sounds of the school enveloped me. The tiled floors echoed with the soft shuffle of students' footsteps, and the fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow.

Reaching the bathroom, I pushed open the door and stepped inside, the cool air washing over me in a welcome wave.

As I stepped into the bathroom stall, the acrid scent of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, mingling with the dim light filtering through the cracks in the door. My senses went on high alert as I listened to the hushed conversation unfolding in the stall next to me.

"Have you heard?" a voice whispered, the words barely audible over the sound of running water. "West Gangbuk High has expedited their recruitment of 1st-year students compared to previous years. It seems they're short of people. It might be because of the last war."

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of the recruitment. The implications were clear – the West Gangbuk High gang was looking to bolster their ranks, and they were targeting first-year students like me.

The voice continued, "I heard from my friend who's in the crew that the recruitment will be held in 6 days."

As I exited the bathroom stall, I took a casual glance around to ensure I hadn't drawn any attention. Satisfied that I hadn't been noticed, I began to walk away nonchalantly, as if I hadn't overheard anything out of the ordinary.

As I finally exited the bathroom, my mind still reeling from the unexpected encounter, the system once again appeared before me, its message stark against the backdrop of my racing thoughts.

"Main Quest has been created: Participate in the recruitment and get selected. Reward: 1 Gold card."

I blinked in surprise at the sudden appearance of the quest prompt, my heart skipping a beat at the implications.

 The timing couldn't have been more uncanny – just as I had overheard talk of the West Gangbuk High recruitment, the system presented me with a directive to participate.

I hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks and rewards of accepting the quest. On one hand, getting involved with the notorious gang could put me in harm's way, endangering not only myself but also those around me. On the other hand, the allure of the Gold card, with its potential benefits and abilities, was difficult to resist.

With a heavy sigh, I decided to accept the quest. Despite the uncertainty and apprehension gnawing at me, I knew that I couldn't ignore the opportunity that lay before me. The allure of the Gold card, with its potential rewards and benefits, was too tantalizing to resist.

I walked back to the classroom, my steps slow and measured, as if each footfall carried the weight of the decision I had just made. The hallway seemed to stretch on endlessly before me, the familiar surroundings now tinged with a sense of foreboding.

As I approached the classroom door, I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steel myself for what lay ahead. The voices of my classmates filtered through the door, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within me.

With a determined nod, I pushed open the door and stepped inside, my eyes scanning the room for any sign that my absence had been noticed. But the teacher continued with the lesson, seemingly unaware of my brief detour.

As Kweon Kang settled into his seat, a heavyweight of realization settled upon him. The Gold card he had acquired was undoubtedly valuable, but it alone wouldn't guarantee his selection into the ranks of the West Gangbuk High crew. He needed something more, something that would distinguish him from the countless other candidates vying for a spot.

As the pieces of his plan began to fall into place, a sense of determination washed over him. He would need to be strategic, resourceful, and above all, brave. But he was willing to do whatever it took to succeed.

Lost in his thoughts, Kweon Kang hadn't realized how much time had passed until the sound of the ringing bell shattered the silence of the classroom. Startled, he glanced up at the clock and was surprised to see that the class hours had come to an end.

A sense of disorientation washed over him as he realized that he had been lost in contemplation for far longer than he had intended. Hours had slipped away unnoticed as he wrestled with his ideas and plans for the upcoming recruitment.

Shaking his head to clear away the fog of his thoughts, Kweon Kang quickly gathered his belongings and made his way out of the classroom.

Arriving home with a sense of urgency, Kweon Kang wasted no time in executing his plan. With a determined stride, he made his way to his room, the weight of his mission heavy on his mind.

Taking a seat at his desk, he pulled out his laptop and began to search for the perfect pair for the Gold card he had acquired the previous night. After careful consideration, he settled on a basic grappling technique, recognizing its potential to complement the card's abilities.

With a few clicks of the mouse, he found a series of instructional videos and articles detailing the fundamentals of grappling. As he watched the demonstrations, he took careful notes, committing each movement and technique to memory.

For the next few hours, Kweon Kang threw himself into practicing the grappling techniques he had studied. With each repetition, he attempted to mimic the fluid movements he had seen in the instructional videos, striving for precision and accuracy.

Despite his best efforts, he found that mastering the techniques was no easy feat. His movements were clumsy and awkward, lacking the finesse of a seasoned practitioner. But Kweon Kang refused to be discouraged, pushing himself to improve with each attempt.

As Kweon Kang lay in a pool of sweat, his chest heaving with exertion, a sense of satisfaction washed over him. Despite the grueling hours of training, he could feel a glimmer of progress, a faint spark of improvement amidst the exhaustion.

"ha...ha I finally improved a bit," he muttered to himself, the words escaping in between ragged breaths as he struggled to chase down enough air to fill his lungs.