Unveiled Potential

The wind howled softly as Jiro and Hyun-Seok faced each other under the wide, open sky. The world below watched in silence, dozens of students recording with their phones, their breaths held in suspense. From the ground, it looked like two titans preparing for a final clash.

For Jiro, though, it was different. His Perception Field was at full range, every movement, every muscle twitch, every shift in Hyun-Seok's stance processed in real time. The pain in his ribs throbbed, sharp and hot, but pain was nothing new.

Don't think about it. Don't react. Just move.

Hyun-Seok cocked his head to one side, cracking his neck as he grinned wide, eyes wild with excitement. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But guts don't win fights, Ghost-Eyes."

He shifted his weight, his stance fluid like water, arms loose, ready to strike from any angle.

"Show me," Jiro said, his eyes calm but focused like a blade sharpened to its limit. "Show me everything you've got."

Hyun-Seok's grin widened into a predatory smile. "Don't regret it."

He moved.

Fast. Too fast.

Jiro's Perception Field buzzed, red signals flooding his mind. He saw the step, the twist of Hyun-Seok's hip, and the shift in his arms all at once.

Left feint. Right elbow. He's going high.

Jiro sat back, avoiding the elbow by mere inches. The force of the swing sent a brush past his nose, stirring the air. Before he could even reset his balance, Hyun-Seok spun, throwing a back-kick aimed at his ribs.

CRACK!

Jiro blocked it with his forearm, but the impact rattled his bones. His feet skidded back, his stance barely holding.

He's not giving me time to breathe.

"What's wrong, Ghost?" Hyun-Seok's voice echoed like thunder. He charged again, his footwork erratic, unpredictable. His speed increased. No patterns. No rhythm. Just raw, chaotic force.

If I focus on him, I'll fall behind.

Jiro's eyes narrowed. No thinking. No reacting. Just move.

Hyun-Seok's fist shot toward his face. Instead of dodging, Jiro stepped into it, his shoulder colliding with Hyun-Seok's chest. The impact threw them both off balance, but Jiro didn't stop. His right arm shot up, his elbow aimed at Hyun-Seok's jaw.

BAM!

The hit connected. It wasn't clean, but it was enough to snap Hyun-Seok's head to the side.

There it is.

Hyun-Seok stumbled, his eyes flickering with surprise. He clicked his tongue and wiped his lip, his fingers coming away smeared with blood.

His eyes slowly lifted, his gaze colder now.

"You…" he muttered, his grin fading. "You hit me.

Jiro didn't say a word. He just stood there, unmoving, his stance unyielding.

---

"Did Jiro just hit him?"

"No way… No one's ever touched Hyun-Seok before!"

"Bro, I got that on video! Look at that elbow!"

"Wait, wait, they're still fighting!"

The buzz of excitement spread like wildfire. Phones were live-streaming. Students who normally ignored fights were now glued to the scene. Even the school delinquents, who usually treated fights like daily entertainment, watched with wide eyes. This wasn't a normal fight. This was something more.

"You're good," Hyun-Seok admitted, flexing his jaw like he was testing it for damage. His smile returned, but it was smaller now. Sharper.

"But I'm better."

He crouched low, his hands loose, fingers twitching. He looked like a beast ready to pounce.

Here it comes.

Jiro's Perception Field buzzed violently. Every inch of Hyun-Seok's body was like a flashing signal.

All angles. All options.

But I see it now.

Hyun-Seok charged, moving faster than he had earlier. Blitz speed. His motion was too fast to distinguish.

Right jab to bait me. Left hook to close the gap. Body blow coming next.

Jiro's Perception Field slowed it down. His muscles tensed, his body moving before his mind caught up. His left foot slid back, his right arm raised to deflect the jab. The hook followed, but Jiro ducked low, his body twisting away from the strike.

Here's my opening.

Hyun-Seok's side was open.

Jiro surged forward, his palm driving straight into Hyun-Seok's exposed ribs.

BAM!

Hyun-Seok's breath exploded from his lungs. His eyes bulged in horror.

Don't stop. Push him. Break him.

Jiro moved in a fluid motion. He jerked his hips around, putting force behind his next kick — an ascending knee that crashed into Hyun-Seok's abdomen.

THUD!

Hyun-Seok took a step back, coughing hard, his breath shallow. His grin was gone. His eyes were fixed onto Jiro like a predator facing another predator.

"You… got some nerve," Hyun-Seok said, wiping the blood off his mouth. "But I'll show you… "

He raised his fists, his breathing heavy but steady. "I'll show you why I'm called the Butcher."

---

The Crowd Below Erupts

"HE HIT HIM AGAIN!"

"Hyun-Seok's coughing up blood!"

"Is Jiro actually gonna win?!"

Students shoved each other to get a better view. Phones zoomed in. Excitement surged.

"Bro, Jiro's not just holding his own. He's winning."

Hyun-Seok's grin was gone. His eyes, sharp as a blade, focused entirely on Jiro.

"You're good, Ghost-Eyes," he muttered. "But this is where it ends."

He exhaled slowly, his entire posture shifting. His center of gravity dropped. His stance wasn't loose anymore — it was solid. His breathing became steady. His eyes unblinking.

Jiro's Perception Field buzzed wildly.

No more wasted movement. No feints. No tricks.

Hyun-Seok moved. It wasn't quick. It wasn't slow. It was impossible.

Left step. Twist. Shift weight to the right.

He's going for a full-force strike.

Jiro's eyes widened. No… he's not holding back anymore.

Hyun-Seok's hand shot forward like a piston, a straight punch aimed at Jiro's chest. It wasn't quick. It was unavoidable.

Jiro's Perception Field screamed, his heart pounding like thunder. Can't block it. Can't dodge it. But I see it. Jiro took a deep breath. His eyes locked onto the strike, tracking it to the millisecond. He stepped forward. Into the punch. Move forward. Reduce the distance. Take control of the angle. BAM!

The punch scraped across Jiro's ribs instead of his chest. The power was tremendous, but it didn't strike clean. Jiro turned his body, wrapping his arm around Hyun-Seok's outstretched arm.

Trap him.

Hyun-Seok's eyes went wide. He tried to jerk back, but it was too late.

Jiro's hand clamped down on his wrist like iron.

Shift. Turn. Lock.

In one smooth motion, Jiro twisted Hyun-Seok's arm around to his back, holding it there.

"Agh—!" Hyun-Seok winced. His free hand flailed, but Jiro's grip was absolute.

"You're strong," Jiro muttered in his ear, his breath steady despite the pain in his ribs. "But strength means nothing if you can't control it."

And then, with one final jerk of his hips, he threw Hyun-Seok off balance, slamming him to the rooftop.

CRASH!

Hyun-Seok's body hit the rooftop hard. His head bounced against the concrete, dazed. His breathing was shallow.

Jiro knelt down next to him, his eyes calm, his breath even.

"You lost," Jiro muttered, staring down at him. His eyes were sharp. Cold. Unyielding.

The crowd in the stands went completely ape.

"HE DID IT!"

"JIRO WON!"

"HYUN-SEOK LOST!!!"

The Butcher of Jong-Il was stretched out on the floor like a broken toy. Pride, like glass, crushed.