Chapter 21

Chapter 21
## Chapter 021: Shattering Instinct

The warrior in armor parried my spear’s lunge as if it had peered into the future, transitioning into a counter-attack that moved with the effortless rhythm of a stream.

A resonant metallic ring echoed as I brought its blade to a dead stop.

The decapitated combatant, mid-offensive, suddenly faltered and leaped backward in a panic. Yet, I hadn’t actually made a move.

—?!

It had clearly been certain that my strike was imminent. After creating distance, the headless swordsman seemed to realize its error, its body twitching in confusion.

A small smirk played on my lips as I observed. Throughout the entire exchange, I had remained rooted to the spot.

The headless samurai began to behave like a man possessed—shifting into high defensive guards or lunging forward to preempt a strike that wasn’t there.

Once more, as it rushed in to cut me down, it abruptly aborted its swing, retreating in a frantic hurry.

“Are you having a conversation with yourself over there?”

Naturally, the silent specter offered no reply.

—This sensation…

“It’s over your head, zombie.”

What people call battle intuition is really just a sophisticated reflex carved out by years of bloodshed.

To put it in simpler terms: a person who is constantly bullied will flinch the moment someone merely twitches a finger, right?

The mechanism is identical—only the stakes are higher.

So, for this creature trapped within the prison of its own “combat instinct,” what happens if I project the smallest shadow of a feint?

—Grr…!

It responds on pure, unthinking autopilot.

Dismantling a foe this way isn’t a simple trick, of course. Even if that “intuition” is an illusion born from a thousand wars, a clumsy fake will be ignored.

You have to execute movements that feel indistinguishable from reality. To master that, you first have to fall into that mental trap yourself… and then tear your way out.

That was my path. I managed to break the shackles of that instinctive cage. I pushed every subconscious twitch into the light of my conscious mind until I owned them completely.

“These ‘higher realms’ people talk about? They aren’t all that.”

Battle intuition, the sword-heart, the state of emptiness, the oneness of blade and man, the merging of all things… I’ve wandered into every one of those mental mirages labeled as “enlightenment,” and I’ve smashed my way out of every single one.

“Which is why…”

Intuition and gut feelings are just fancy words for delusions. A human being possesses five senses. Even the perception of mana flows through those same five channels.

I can say that with absolute certainty. I’ve earned the right to.

The arrogant undead, so confident in its “ultimate” instinctive mastery, was now being beaten like dough at a festival.

“Get over here!”

I stomped down on its blade to pin it to the earth, then drove my fist into the arm holding the hilt. The heavy plate armor protecting the limb buckled like wet paper.

“That’s going to leave a mark.”

Actually, I’ll make sure it doesn’t feel a thing soon.

Targeting the empty space where its skull should have been, I thrust my spear with everything I had. The steel head tore through the torso, emerging from the back. Even then, the Paradox Flame continued to devour its essence.

—A… Aaaaaah!

I planted a boot on its chest and shoved off to gain distance, watching the creature writhe. As it struggled, the once-regal armor groaned and distorted. Dark vapors erupted from the severed neck.

Thick, putrid fluids began to leak from the cracks in the mangled metal. Then, with a heavy, wet thud, the suit of armor collapsed.

I walked over to the remains, jerked my spear free, and rubbed my head while looking at the filth coating the weapon.

“This looks like it would go great over a bowl of rice.”

“That is disgusting. You’d likely die of food poisoning.”

I wasn’t actually planning to eat it. I wondered if the evacuees had made it to the hotel—Han Sang-ah had walked up behind me without making a sound.

She looked down at her Association-issued device before speaking.

“The Coast Guard says they’re nearly here.”

“Excellent. That gives us a perfect excuse to leave whenever we want.”

“You aren’t going to clear the Erosion Core?”

“Oh, I am. But I’m not diving in until the survivors we saved are well enough to give us some actual intelligence.”

A brief flash of brightness crossed Han Sang-ah’s face. Usually, she was as cold and unmoving as an ivory carving—what was this about?

“In that case… would you assist me with something?”

“What do you need?”

She gave me an uncertain look.

“My sword skills.”

“Just a conversation, or a lesson?”

Nothing comes for free. You’ve got to pay the tuition.

“Funds are not an issue. I will compensate you well.”

Money, huh?

“My commissions keep my pockets full enough.”

Her hands balled into tight fists.

“Then tell me what you want.”

“Reasoning first.”

“I intend to destroy Club Sandai by myself.”

“Club Sandai?”

“One of the Great Eight—surely you’ve heard of it?”

I had. It was one of the eight deadliest Erosion Cores on the planet, situated in Tel Aviv, Israel.

It was also a massive source of revenue for Korea. Since Israel couldn’t suppress the local monsters alone, they spent astronomical sums to bring in foreign hunter firms.

Naturally, the top Korean guilds—the elite tier—charged whatever they felt like, making a killing while acting as Israel’s shield.

“That’s a hell of an objective.”

She was technically my peer in the hunter world. Like me, she was only on her second job. And yet, she was already aiming for the Great Eight.

“I have my motivations.”

“Something with your family?”

“Yes.”

She gave a small nod. Probably lost her parents. I’d heard enough tragic backstories to fill a library—the novelty had long since worn off.

Experience had taught me that there is no ceiling to the cruelty humans can visit upon one another.

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“I don’t want your guidance. I want a mentor.”

Having said her piece, she dug into her pocket and presented a card.

“Geumyang Group?”

“A market value of 257 trillion. My family holds the reins.”

I whistled softly. Han Sang-ah was basically a princess of industry.

“You come from a heavy-hitting bloodline.”

I didn’t bother asking why a girl like her was risking her life as a hunter. She clearly had her target.

“It doesn’t change much—my grandfather is the patriarch, and I’ve walked away from the inheritance. I have no authority in the business.”

Basically, she was powerless within the corporation. Even worse, using the Geumyang name would just paint a bullseye on her back for her greedy relatives, who would discard her the moment she became a threat—or so she explained.

Instead, her grandfather was delighted by her choice to become a hunter and gave her unlimited backing.

“That tracks. You can’t manage a hunter guild and a global conglomerate at once.”

“Furthermore, news of my aptitude has already reached him. Having a family member lead a hunter organization…

…is a massive political shield. Just like the old days when a rich kid became a high-ranking official. It makes sense for him to fund her growth.

“That’s the source of my mana reserves—his massive investment.”

I let out a dry laugh.

“Mana is a tool, sure. But there are things that matter much more.”

She was bright, I’d give her that.

Regardless, Han Sang-ah was wealthy. And being on good terms with a fortune never hurt anyone.

“Alright. I’ll train you until the rescued group is back on their feet.”

“I appreciate it. What is your price?”

My answer was simple.

“Elixirs. Not the legendary stuff. Just a new one every day. Let’s start with this.”

I pulled up my phone and displayed an image: the gallbladder of a white serpent.

“Is this acceptable?”

“More than enough.”

I didn’t need the world-class stuff. To refine my internal energy, I just needed to process slightly more mana than my system could naturally handle.

“Let’s begin. Unsheathe your blade. Get in your stance.”

She followed the instruction and braced herself.

“The rules are straightforward. Use your eyes, use your ears, feel the pressure on your skin, breathe in the air.”

Taste is irrelevant in a brawl. You fight with those four.

“But I was taught that sight and hearing are too slow to track high-level strikes.”

“Who fed you that garbage?”

Total nonsense.

“The human eye has a limited frame rate, and…”

“Right. And does it make sense for a human to outrun a speeding vehicle?”

Biological muscles have ceilings—no amount of gym time lets you outsprint a truck doing 170 kph.

Yet, back at the docks, I had easily outpaced the vehicle Han Sang-ah was driving.

“Humans use mana to shatter those physical ceilings. Your senses aren’t excluded from that.”

If a bullet is moving too fast to see? Flood your eyes with mana, and you’ll see it spinning in the air before you cut it in half.

“Don’t rely on a ‘feeling.’ That’s like firing a cannon with your eyes closed. If you won a fight because of an unconscious reflex, don’t celebrate. Force that reflex into your conscious control.”

I finished my point, kicked my spear into the air, and lashed out toward her left shoulder. Han Sang-ah, only halfway ready, jerked her sword up to parry.

“That? That was pure instinct.”

Before she could intellectually process my stance, my muscle tension, or the direction of my eyes, her body moved on its own. If you start trusting those animal urges, you’ll fall straight into the trap of battle intuition.

“Use your brain. Deconstruct the move. Comprehend it. Why did you conclude I was aiming for your shoulder?”

Data is only useful once you process it, categorize it, and find the truth. Otherwise, it’s just mental noise.

For the next three hours, I relentlessly pressured Han Sang-ah with my spear. She fought tooth and nail to deflect my strikes and find an opening.

“Once more…!”

But her replies never found their mark—my spear was already waiting there to meet them. While we sparred, the authorities arrived with medical teams to tend to the fishermen.

“They’ll need about a week to recover.”

A week. I nodded. That was plenty of time to have some fun. While the doctors worked at the hotel, our training continued.

The sun dipped below the horizon. The moon made its journey across the sky and vanished. The sun climbed again, then fell once more.

“Hah… Heuk…”

The duel didn’t stop for a second. Han Sang-ah’s eyes were wide and unfocused, her limbs shaking with exhaustion.

“You’re losing your focus again.”

As her mental grip slipped, she hoisted her sword to meet a projected spear swing. In that split second, I let go of the spear, closed the distance, and delivered a sharp backhand to her cheek.

*Slap!* Her head snapped to the side.