The Weight of a Lie
The next day, Lee Jinwoo walked into Seoyeon High a changed person. Not because he was suddenly confident, but because the anxiety had curdled into a cold, focused dread. The second senior he'd left behind last night hadn't reported the fight—fear of retaliation, perhaps—but Jinwoo knew the silence was temporary. He was now a target.
He avoided the halls, making a beeline for the rooftop during lunch. He flexed his hand, the pain dull now, but the Echo of the perfect punch still screamed in his muscles. He knew what he had to do. The Reflective Mimicry gave him the blueprint, but if his physical structure—his scaffolding—was weak, the perfect technique would only break him.
He spotted Han Sora in the courtyard. She gave him a shy, earnest smile and a small wave, a look of genuine gratitude in her eyes. It was a stark contrast to the veiled hostility and fear he saw from everyone else. She's why I have to keep this a secret, he thought. If they know I'm a copycat, they'll target her even harder.
His training started after school at the worn-down local gym Minjun suggested.
The New Blueprint
The gym was loud, smelling of sweat, leather, and liniment. Minjun, already taping his hands, greeted him with a nod.
"Alright, Jinwoo," Minjun said, his voice serious. "Forget the hero moves from yesterday. That was sloppy, you got lucky. You've got raw talent, but you need conditioning. Today, we start with the Rhythm."
Minjun stepped out onto the worn mat and adopted a classic boxing stance.
"The greatest technique is useless if you don't know how to move," Minjun explained. "Boxing isn't just punching; it's a dance. The footwork is everything. It's the engine of your defense and the foundation of your power."
Minjun began demonstrating a series of basic boxing footwork drills: the shuffle, the pivot, the in-and-out step—all smooth, seamless movements that kept his weight centered and ready to explode in any direction.
Jinwoo stood transfixed. This was different from the quick, defensive block he'd copied in a panic. This was an extended, complex, foundational skill set.
He activated his Reflective Mimicry. He cleared his mind, his anxiety giving way to a white-hot focus. He watched Minjun's feet—the precise shift of weight, the slight drag of the trailing foot, the perfect spring in his knees.
I need to copy the Rhythm, he thought. The blueprint for movement.
The familiar pressure built behind his eyes, but this time it was more intense, like downloading a massive file. He felt the phantom strain in his calves, his tendons tightening with invisible effort. The headache was immediate and sharp, forcing him to clench his teeth.
"Just watch for now," Minjun instructed. "Don't try to imitate yet. It takes months to get this right."
Jinwoo nodded, but in his mind, the months had just been condensed into a painful, instantaneous download. He had the Blueprint of Boxing Footwork.
The First Practice
"Okay, try a basic shuffle," Minjun said, stepping away.
Jinwoo took a deep, steadying breath. He felt the internal blueprint guiding him. He lifted his lead foot slightly, pushed off his back foot, and slid his lead foot forward, following immediately with the back foot.
Shuffle.
It was far from Minjun's effortless glide, but it was structurally correct. It maintained balance. It was faster than it had any right to be.
Minjun stopped in his tracks. He stared at Jinwoo, his jaw slack. "Wait, hold up. Try it again. Move a few feet forward."
Jinwoo did, slightly faster this time. He was still clumsy, but the movement was correct.
"Impossible," Minjun muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Did you lie? Have you been training? That's... that's Textbook Form."
"I watch a lot of videos," Jinwoo lied smoothly, the first deliberate fabrication the Echo Striker had to deploy to protect his secret. "I... I just have good visual memory."
"Good visual memory?" Minjun laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Man, you're a freak. Alright, forget the long tutorial. Since you're apparently a genius, let's see you try the Pivot."
The next thirty minutes were agonizing for Jinwoo. Every time Minjun demonstrated a new step, Jinwoo would pause, close his eyes to fight the headache as the Echo imprinted, and then execute the move with shocking, technical proficiency. Minjun's confusion grew into frustrated awe.
Jinwoo was exhausted and mentally drained, but he had successfully copied an entire, complex skill set. He now owned the foundation of a true fighter.
The New Threat
Leaving the gym, Jinwoo felt the pain of his exhaustion but also the immense satisfaction of his progress. He had a reason to train now. He had a secret.
He didn't make it two blocks before he found his path blocked. Not by students this time, but by two older guys, clearly dropouts or young gang members. They had the hard, cynical eyes of veterans who knew how to hurt people.
"You're the little high school punk who dropped Tank with one tap?" the smaller one said, a cruel grin splitting his face. "Tae-seong's looking for you. He says you've got an unnatural right hook. Says he needs to see what kind of dog fights back."
Jinwoo's heart hammered. This wasn't a school fight. This was serious. He backed up, trying to keep his distance.
"Too late for running, kid," the taller one sneered, lunging with a wide, clubbing swing.
Jinwoo's instinct was to block, but the Echoes intervened. Before the clumsy punch could connect, his freshly imprinted footwork took over. His feet shuffled in-and-out with unexpected speed, Minjun's Rhythm flowing through his legs.
The punch whiffed past his ear. Jinwoo didn't punch back. He simply used the speed of the pivot he had copied an hour ago to whirl around the attacker, leaving the gang member off-balance and staring at the empty space where Jinwoo had been.
The gang members stopped, shocked. They hadn't seen a scrawny kid move like that.
Jinwoo didn't press his luck. Using his new, efficient Tae-seong stride, he bolted into a crowded area, leaving the confused, furious gang members yelling behind him.
He was still weak. He was still terrified. But for the first time, Lee Jinwoo didn't just survive by blocking a punch; he survived by outmaneuvering it. He had used the Boxer's Rhythm, and the foundation for the Echo Striker had been laid.