Chapter 4: A New Record, a New Whim

“He’s shouting his high rank to anyone who’ll listen.”

No one had ever doubted Han Do-hoon’s S-rank, yet he was loudly flaunting his abilities. He seemed to crave attention, despite rarely exchanging words with those around him.

There was truly no need to fight with such intensity in a mere training room.

In stark contrast, Sa-yoon, who truly savored the attention of others, had always approached training with a casual indifference. For him, a training session was merely an opportunity to mark his attendance and perhaps offer an elegant wave to the espers observing from the periphery.

Flaunting his rank so loudly, effectively shouting ‘My grade is high!’, was entirely against his personal taste.

As Sa-yoon casually rose and stretched, waiting for his turn, a colossal number flashed across the training room’s upper display panel.

[S-rank Esper Han Do-hoon’s score is 927,425.]

The gentle narrative voice echoed through the training room. It was a remarkably high figure. Amidst the hushed murmurs of the crowd, the display panel, showing the score, flickered brightly.

[Congratulations, Esper Han Do-hoon. You have achieved a new training score record. Rankings will be updated. Settlement will take a few minutes.]

As the speakers blared with the clamor of celebratory fireworks, the espers watching from around them collectively screamed. Exclamations of “Insane!” “Incredible!” and “Take me, Oppa!” filled the air.

Amidst the flurry of these colorful shouts, Han Do-hoon simply removed his combat uniform, his face utterly devoid of emotion.

“Tsk, tsk.” Sa-yoon shook his head, a dismissive sound escaping his lips.

‘To get so worked up over a simulated battle,’ he mused. Not just Han Do-hoon, but all the agents watching him seemed like children.

In stark contrast to Sa-yoon, who remained completely unfazed by the spectacle, Kim Chae-jun’s eyes were visibly trembling.

“Team Leader…” Kim Chae-jun’s voice, as he called out to Sa-yoon, carried a noticeable weight.

Usually, Kim Chae-jun would face Sa-yoon’s teasing with a brazen, confident expression. Now, however, he clutched both hands tightly, gazing at Sa-yoon with an almost desperate plea.

Witnessing Chae-jun’s rare display of agitation, Sa-yoon finally grasped the situation.

Before Han Do-hoon set his new record, the highest score ever recorded at headquarters had belonged to Sa-yoon. He hadn’t even been aware of it, as the top training room score had always been his own.

In essence, Sa-yoon had just witnessed his personal record being broken right before his very eyes.

“Ahem…” Sa-yoon was not typically one to dwell on scores or rankings. After all, every ability possessed its own unique characteristics, with distinct advantages and disadvantages.

However, just as Sa-yoon had intended to simply make his presence known at training, as was his custom, a dark and mischievous whim began to subtly creep into his mind.

“Chae-jun.”

“Yes, Team Leader.”

“Shall I break that for you?”

“Is that even possible? It’s over 60,000 points higher than your previous record, Team Leader…”

Upon seeing the overwhelming score Han Do-hoon had achieved, Kim Chae-jun asked, his spirits utterly crushed.

Sa-yoon approached Chae-jun, extending his arms wide. Humans were, after all, simple creatures; it was an innate instinct to wish to live up to expectations.

With a benevolent expression, Sa-yoon addressed his ‘disciple’ much like a charismatic cult leader.

“Chae-jun. Do you earnestly desire this?”

“Yes, Team Leader.”

“Then you shall pray.”

‘Believe, and blessings shall come.’ Sa-yoon, who had never once harbored a religious conviction, solemnly uttered these words, mimicking an enigmatic cult leader.

“For my disciple, I shall perform a miracle.”

“Team Leader!”

“Believe. If you believe with all your heart, the path shall be revealed.”

Leaving Chae-jun, who appeared on the verge of clinging to him and weeping, Sa-yoon strode forward with an air of absolute confidence.

Billions, even hundreds of billions, of unseen coordinates existed throughout the world.

Those capable of separating and freely manipulating these coordinates were known as spatial manipulation users.

Spatial manipulation was a rare and undeniably useful ability, yet it was an anomaly, seemingly unrelated to raw destructive power. Sa-yoon, however, was the one who utterly shattered that long-held prejudice.

He was an esper who transformed what was once considered an auxiliary skill into the most formidable and destructive ability. This was precisely why, among the myriad S-rank espers, people specifically singled out Sa-yoon for their fervent praise.

Sa-yoon’s gaze swept over the space that unfolded beneath his feet, vast and intricate like a universe.

Countless fine lines, forming both horizontal and vertical axes, intertwined and enveloped every single object within existence.

The very space rippled with every step he took.

The sensation of everything moving and being controlled by his hand, in that moment, was breathtakingly serene.

He crushed the targets that rushed at him from all directions, never once hesitating. He folded space, then cleaved it in two.

No preparatory motions, no superfluous movements were required. The world itself seemed to reassemble and move, centered entirely around Sa-yoon.

The only place that remained truly busy was the intricate labyrinth of Sa-yoon’s own mind.

He rapidly computed coordinates, predicting and twisting away each attack that poured in from every direction. A higher score was imperative.

The number of targets appearing within the allotted combat time was fixed. Therefore, the solution was to eliminate them faster than anyone else, without a single misstep.

With Han Do-hoon’s sheer firepower, targets would undoubtedly have been incinerated the moment they materialized. To achieve a score higher than his, there was only one viable method.

Kill the targets before they even appeared. Sa-yoon had meticulously tracked the trajectories of every target that had emerged thus far.

By discerning the previous patterns, he could precisely anticipate their next point of emergence.

He folded the coordinates of targets that were currently being generated, appearing as mere specks.

In a seemingly empty void, where others might not even realize training had commenced, Sa-yoon alone moved as if predicting the future, tearing through the very fabric of space with each stride.

[Training time: 10 seconds remaining. Countdown begins. 5, 4, 3…]

Screech. Crushing the final generated target beneath the sole of his boot, Sa-yoon finally raised his head.

[Good work. Training concluded. Please wait for settlement outside.]

“Haa. That was tiring.” Sa-yoon exhaled deeply, then stretched his arms high above his head. ‘I’m exhausted. So tired.’

Sa-yoon’s combat method, though appearing more efficient than anyone else’s, actually consumed a surprisingly significant amount of stamina. The meticulous, individual manipulation of a technique originally designed for auxiliary use was, in truth, an extreme waste of physical energy.

“Team Leader, well done!”

As he stepped out through the exit, Chae-jun came sprinting from a distance, a bright, cheerful smile gracing his face. Chae-jun then gently placed a fluffy, dry towel upon Sa-yoon’s head.

Those gathered around watched the two, holding their breath in anticipation. Scattered murmurs erupted, questioning what had just transpired.

Indeed, to the eyes of lower-ranked espers, Sa-yoon’s movements would have appeared as little more than countless heat shimmers rising and vanishing alongside him as he walked.

Only those of A-rank or higher were left gaping in shock.

[Settlement concluded… S-rank Esper Sa-yoon’s score is…]

The same gentle, mechanical voice as before echoed through the room.

[The total score is 1,008,491. Congratulations, Esper Sa-yoon. You have achieved a new training score record.]

Simultaneously, screams erupted from all directions. A score in the millions.

People shrieked, throwing their towels and hats in disbelief at a score that had completely shifted its magnitude compared to the previous record.

Every agent present rejoiced at this unprecedented number, showering Sa-yoon with fervent cheers.

[Rankings will be updated. Settlement will take a few minutes.]

The same announcement that played when Han Do-hoon had entered was heard, and the rankings on the scoreboard shifted. Sa-yoon, feigning indifference, searched for Han Do-hoon with his eyes.

He spotted Han Do-hoon near the wall, surrounded by people, his expression completely unperturbed. Then, Han Do-hoon subtly turned his head, and their gazes met.

‘Did you see that clearly?’ Sa-yoon subtly shrugged his shoulders.

While Han Do-hoon had never actually ignored him, Sa-yoon, whose spotlight had been momentarily stolen, unnecessarily crossed his arms and lifted his chin with an air of haughty defiance.

Han Do-hoon silently observed Sa-yoon, then pushed himself off the wall where he had been leaning.

As Sa-yoon’s eyes tracked his movement, a sudden wave of colossal shadows engulfed him.

“Our Team Leader is the absolute best!”

“Hey, you all reek! Get away from me!”

Sa-yoon pushed away the sweaty espers who swarmed him, with Kim Chae-jun at the forefront. ‘These guys are filthy, all drenched in sweat right after training.’

A shadow fell over the playful bickering between Sa-yoon and his team members.

The ridiculously tall Han Do-hoon approached Sa-yoon. His team members, sensing his presence, subtly retreated from Sa-yoon’s immediate vicinity.

Those nearby also appeared to be straining their ears, eager to hear what the two S-rank espers would discuss.

“It’s been a while.” Han Do-hoon was a man of few words.

He merely nodded in response to the greetings of his throng of followers, never offering a proper reply. While a multitude of adherents still flocked to him, finding even that aspect ‘cool,’ in Sa-yoon’s estimation, it simply seemed like he was needlessly putting on airs.

For Han Do-hoon, of all people, to initiate a conversation by approaching first, was truly unexpected.

The intensity of the already gathered gazes sharpened even further.

“We agreed to greet each other next time we met, didn’t we?”

“I don’t recall agreeing to that.”

Sa-yoon had no memory of assenting to such a unilateral greeting. Unfortunately, it seemed Han Do-hoon had missed the subtle middle finger Sa-yoon had extended as they parted ways.

As Sa-yoon replied curtly, Kim Chae-jun, whose eyes were wide in alarm beside him, urgently poked Sa-yoon’s arm.

“Ah, why?”

“Team Leader…”

To onlookers unaware of the full context, it would appear as the polite Han Do-hoon interacting with the perpetually wayward Sa-yoon. Sa-yoon merely shrugged at Kim Chae-jun’s discomfort.

He reluctantly turned towards Han Do-hoon, offering an awkward smile.

“Ah, my apologies. I have a policy of not greeting people weaker than myself. So, I’m afraid I can’t return your greeting. What a pity.”

“Is that so?”

“Team Leader, since when did you…”

Sa-yoon gently put an arm around Kim Chae-jun’s shoulder, silencing his protest.

“Chae-jun. You might not have known, but that’s my New Year’s resolution this year. It’s already April, but I’m trying my best to stick to it from now on. Oh, Mr. Han Do-hoon, you understand the importance of New Year’s resolutions, don’t you? Don’t take it too personally.”