Chapter 27: Just Beat the Hell Out of It

“You just have to do exactly what I tell you.”

Reassured by the firm tone, Yoo Hee-ro gave a faint smile and nodded. Someone beside them scoffed, but the two ignored it. Sung Ji-woo grabbed Hee-ro’s wrist and pulled him closer. Sensing what he intended, Hee-ro leaned toward him at once.

Just as Ji-woo was about to whisper, he paused. Hee-ro had actually bent down to lower his height to listen. Ji-woo frowned.

“I almost got offended just now.”

What the hell did he do over break to grow this tall? Hee-ro blinked in confusion, and Ji-woo waved it off. Hee-ro turned his head again, waiting for him to speak.

The one who had looked down on Ji-woo earlier was now pretending not to care while inching closer, eager to hear the strategy Ji-woo had devised. But only for a moment—he froze when he met Hee-ro’s chilling gaze.

“……”

“……”

Their eyes met without a single word, but Kim Yoo-chul swallowed dryly.

What the hell… What is with that look…?

It was the kind of predatory stare that suggested he might pounce any second. Yoo-chul quickly looked away and, trying to appear unfazed, slapped the back of his mentee with unnecessary force. The mentee winced, but Yoo-chul didn’t stop.

“Why are you so weak? You think you can do anything like that? Huh?”

The pointless yelling continued.

Once the nuisance backed off, Hee-ro relaxed his eyes. Ji-woo’s breath brushing his ear tickled.

“Just beat the shit out of it.”

“…….”

“Got it?”

“…Sorry?”

Hee-ro thought he’d heard wrong. He expected Ji-woo to laugh and give him an actual strategy, but Ji-woo only stared as if asking whether he understood.

“…Sorry?”

Hee-ro repeated it, genuinely unable to believe it.

“What?”

“……”

But Ji-woo only looked puzzled, as if he didn’t understand why Hee-ro was confused.

“…Okay.”

Hee-ro answered anyway.

“Stand at the starting line if you’re ready!”

The supervising teacher’s voice echoed across the field. Because of safety distance regulations, nothing except the cameras and ability sensors were allowed near the participants.

The giant display in the distance lit up with the word READY. Then the countdown began. Ji-woo stood at the edge of the mentor line—mentors couldn’t cross once the match started.

3, 2, 1—

BEEP!

The alarm blared through the speakers.

But none of the students rushed out. Only one thing moved—the combat robot. With a screech, its systems activated, and it twisted its head to scan its targets. Then, with startling speed, it bolted toward the center.

The “combat robot” was exactly that: a robot, no AI, no adaptation—just fixed algorithms and attack patterns. Destroy its core mechanism and the match ended. Whoever dealt the most damage would be the winner.

So Ji-woo’s advice wasn’t wrong at all. The robot wasn’t durable—speed and aggression were everything.

First hit wins.

Kim Yoo-chul seemed to know this too, as he shoved his mentee Lee Soo-hyun forward with excessive force. Soo-hyun, weaker and thinner, stumbled past the starting line. Compared to Yoo-chul’s large build, Soo-hyun was frail—melee vs. ranged fighter, essentially.

Crossing the line instantly put Soo-hyun on the robot’s radar. It locked onto him and gave chase. Its arms clicked and shifted into air-gun barrels, firing with sharp bursts.

“Run, you idiot! Are you even trying!?”

As usual, Yoo-chul only screamed, veins bulging. Meanwhile, Hee-ro finished preparing and called softly:

“Sunbae.”

“Yeah, going now?”

“Yes. So I just… um… beat the shit out of it?”

“…Huh?”

It was true, but hearing Hee-ro say “beat the shit out of it” made Ji-woo feel like he’d committed some grave sin.

“No, not… that phrasing. Just hit it hard. Okay?”

Switching to kindergarten-level vocabulary, Ji-woo smiled gently. Hee-ro nodded with determination and stepped past the line. After a deep breath, he looked back at Ji-woo.

In the blink of an eye, dozens of black whips shot out from under Hee-ro’s feet and shredded the combat robot. A sandstorm-like whirlwind rose and faded. When it cleared, the robot lay scattered in silent pieces. The fragments rolled pitifully across the training ground.

Soo-hyun, who had been crawling away in terror, froze. The spectator seats fell silent instantly. Even Ji-woo and Yoo-chul were struck speechless.

Ssshhhh…

Black smoke rose from the cracked robot head. The cut edges were scorched pitch-black.

But the match still wasn’t over.

The robot’s core module rolled toward Soo-hyun, still attached by sparking wires. Regaining some sense, he dragged himself toward it. The red button glowed temptingly—victory was within reach.

Just a little more…!

He gritted his teeth.

Click.

He finally pressed the red button.

[GAME OVER]

The scoreboard flashed.

“…Ah.”

Soo-hyun let out a weak sound. His hand wasn’t on the button—it rested on someone’s sneaker.

Obviously, Hee-ro’s.

Hee-ro stood elegantly, calmly, coldly. No pity, worry, contempt, or mockery. Nothing at all.

And from that blank gaze, Soo-hyun understood—this was power. Not Yoo-chul’s loud, empty bragging. Real power.

“……”

He slowly withdrew his hand. Only then did Hee-ro lift his foot from the crushed, useless button.

The crowd erupted.

“YOO HEE-RO!”

Hearing his name, Hee-ro instantly brightened and ran back to Ji-woo.

“Y-You… you—good job!”

He wasn’t entirely sure what happened, but it seemed Hee-ro did well, so Ji-woo praised him. Hee-ro looked proud, face glowing.

“But what… what was that? How did you do that?”

“I just swung it. Like slicing radishes.”

“Radishes? The vegetable radish?”

“Yes.”

“…I mean, there is a saying about cutting radishes once the knife is drawn…”

Ji-woo kind of understood—and kind of didn’t.

“This doesn’t count!”

A roar cut between them. Kim Yoo-chul.

Ji-woo winced at the volume.

“No one said anything about this!”

“…About what?”

“Did he really do that? You didn’t do it for him!?”

Ji-woo stared at him like he’d just sprouted a second head.

“What are you talking about.”

Ji-woo lazily dug his ear, and Yoo-chul exploded again.

“We need a proper review! I’m gonna expose whatever trick you pulled!”

“Do it.”

“…What?”

“Go ahead. I kinda want to see it too.”

If he requested a challenge, they’d run the footage in slow-motion. Ji-woo was dying to see what had actually happened as well.

Yoo-chul raised his hand to request a challenge. The teacher approved. Ji-woo beckoned Hee-ro.

“Come on, let’s go watch how amazing you were.”

Not a hint of doubt in his tone. Hee-ro followed him with a bright, happy expression.