Minh didn't remember how he got home.
One moment he was stumbling through dark streets,
breath twisting in unnatural rhythms—
The next, he was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling,
shirt still damp with sweat, fingers trembling violently.
His mother knocked once.
"Minh? Con ăn cơm không?"
("Minh? Are you coming to eat?")
"…L-let me… rest a bit…"
She paused.
"Are you okay?"
"Dạ… con ổn."
("Yes… I'm fine.")
He wasn't.
The moment her footsteps faded,
Minh curled into himself as the pulse in his chest detonated again—
THUMP—
...THUMPTHUMP—
...…THUMP—
He bit down on a scream.
His ribs felt like they were bending inward.
His spine arched involuntarily.
He gasped—
And the world snapped sideways.
A rooftop flashed in his vision.
Concrete.
A fist swinging.
His body dodging.
His own voice—
but not from memory:
"Đừng… chết ở đây…"
("Don't… die here…")
Minh clutched his head.
"Cái gì… đang xảy ra với mình…?"
("What… is happening to me…?")
A whisper crawled into the back of his mind—
Something cold.
Something observing.
Something ancient.
He shook violently, trying to throw it off.
But the whisper only sank deeper.
---
Across the city, Hạ Yên sat in her rented apartment—
lights off, laptop open, headset on.
A voice crackled through the speaker.
"Report."
She adjusted her glasses, calm and precise.
"Đã xác định được đối tượng."
("Target identified.")
"Symptoms?"
"Unstable Khí, breath misalignment, peripheral hallucinations."
"And viability?"
She paused.
"…50/50."
A breath of amusement from the other end.
"Dangerous?"
"…Chưa. Nhưng sắp."
("…Not yet. But soon.")
She glanced at her notes:
SUBJECT 03 – Khí rupture approaching.
Spontaneous awakening possible.
Requires stabilization or controlled collapse.
Then she replied:
"…I already contacted 'him'."
The voice sharpened.
"Lãnh Phong?"
"Dạ."
("Yes.")
"Green code?"
She lightly smiled.
"He has no choice."
---
At Dạ Nam Gym, Lãnh Phong sat alone on the second floor, looking down at people training below like an outsider watching a different species.
His phone buzzed with a single message:
"Mai — 7:30 sáng. Gặp Minh.
Không là nó chết."
("Tomorrow — 7:30 AM. See Minh.
Or he dies.")
He exhaled sharply.
"…This is such a hassle."
He stretched his wrist—
a habit from years of hiding muscle tension and Khí flow.
He didn't want to get involved.
He didn't want students.
He didn't want responsibility.
But Hạ Yên's message wasn't a suggestion.
It was an order disguised as concern.
And if the subject died—
the organization would demand answers.
He muttered:
"That kid… will he even survive…?"
---
2:31 AM. Sky still darkened
Minh woke up choking.
His chest wasn't just pulsing—
it was tearing.
He stumbled into the bathroom, gripping the sink.
His reflection flickered like a glitch on a broken screen.
Eyes darkening.
Veins rising.
Breath jagged.
A whisper slithered up his spine—
"Đừng… chống… lại…"
("Don't… resist…")
Minh slammed his hand against the mirror.
"Câm đi!!"
("SHUT UP!!")
His breath collapsed into silence.
And for a terrifying moment—
he thought his heart had stopped.
Morning light pierced through the curtain like needles, dragging Minh back to consciousness.
His eyes opened slowly—
but his breath didn't follow.
It stuttered.
Skipped.
Then hit him with a violent surge.
THUMP—
...THUMPTHUMP—
He sat up too fast, gripping his chest.
"Không… không được…"
("No… not again…")
He tried to stand.
His legs buckled.
He collapsed to the floor, catching himself on trembling arms.
A whisper slid along the back of his skull:
"Đừng… chống… lại…"
("Don't… resist…")
He squeezed his head, shivering.
"Cút… ra khỏi tao…"
("Get… out of me…")
But the whisper only deepened.
7:31 AM.
Knocking.
Three slow, controlled taps.
Not rushed.
Not polite.
Purposeful.
Minh flinched.
His mother called from downstairs:
"Minh ơi, có bạn tới nè!"
("Minh, someone's here for you!")
A cold wave crawled down Minh's spine.
Friend?
He didn't have many friends.
His breath tightened.
Footsteps approached his room.
Then—
A voice he didn't recognize:
"Minh. Open the door."
He froze.
That calm, steady tone…
It didn't sound like a student.
It didn't sound like a teacher.
It sounded like someone who *expected obedience.*
Slowly, he reached for the doorknob.
His hand shook violently.
---
He opened the door—
And saw the man from Dạ Nam Gym.
Wearing a black T-shirt.
Gym bag slung over his shoulder.
Expression blank, unreadable.
The same man he had seen months ago in the gym's second floor training room—
never talking to anyone, always watching quietly.
Minh swallowed.
"…You're… that stalking person..."
Lãnh Phong brushed past him, entering the room like it belonged to him.
"I'm not here for small talk."
He stopped in the center of the room, scanning it once.
Then he turned to Minh.
"Sit."
The command hit Minh like a physical push.
He sat on the edge of the bed, still clutching his chest.
Phong lowered himself to one knee and placed two fingers against Minh's sternum.
Minh tensed—
A spark of heat shot through his ribs.
Phong's eyes narrowed.
"…Just like Hạ Yên said."
Minh's voice cracked:
"She… told you… what…?"
Phong didn't answer the question.
Instead—
He pressed harder.
A bolt of pain tore through Minh's entire body.
He gasped.
"Thở."
("Breathe.")
Minh tried—
But his lungs locked.
Phong's tone sharpened.
"Thở."
("BREATHE.")
Something snapped inside Minh's chest—
like a knot breaking loose—
And suddenly he inhaled sharply, air rushing back into him.
He coughed violently.
Phong stood up slowly.
"Listen carefully."
He crossed his arms.
"Your body is about to collapse."
Minh froze.
"What… what does that mean…?"
"Ý… ý anh là sao…?"
("What… do you mean…?")
Phong's expression didn't change.
"Khí của mày đang trồi lên mà không có trung tâm."
("Your Khí is rising without a center.")
Minh blinked, terrified.
"…Khí…?"
Phong exhaled sharply.
"The thing tearing your chest open every night."
Minh's breath trembled.
"You… you know what's happening to me…?"
Phong nodded once.
"Yes. And if nothing is done—"
He pointed at Minh's chest.
"It will explode."
Minh's blood ran cold.
His voice cracked:
"…Why… why me…?"
For the first time, Phong's expression shifted—
not softening,
but recognizing something.
"…Wrong place. Wrong time."
Silence swallowed the room.
Then Phong grabbed his gym bag.
"Hạ Yên muốn tao giúp mày."
("Hạ Yên wants me to help you.")
Minh looked up.
"…She… wants to help me…?"
Phong didn't answer.
He just walked toward the door.
"Ngày mai, 6 giờ sáng. Dạ Nam Gym."
("Tomorrow, 6 AM. Dạ Nam Gym.")
Minh stared, desperate.
"Nếu… nếu em không tới…?"
("If… if I don't come…?")
Phong opened the door.
Then spoke without looking back:
"Thì nhóc chết."
("Then you die.")
---
Minh didn't sleep that night.
He couldn't.
Every time he closed his eyes, the whisper returned—
soft at first, then sharp, like a knife sliding beneath his ribs.
"Đừng… chống… lại…"
("Don't… resist…")
His breath twisted again, slipping out of rhythm.
He clutched his chest.
"Câm đi… CÚT KHỎI TAO…"
("Shut up… GET OUT OF ME…")
No answer.
Just pulse.
THUMP—
...THUMPTHUMP—
...…THUMP—
He curled up on the floor beside his bed, nails digging into the wooden boards.
He wanted morning to come.
But feared it too.
---
6:00 AM.
The alarm he forgot to turn off buzzed.
Minh's eyes were hollow as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror.
His reflection looked like someone else's—
Dark circles.
Shaking hands.
Breaths that came out thin and uneven.
He splashed cold water onto his face.
It didn't help.
The whisper pressed against the back of his skull again—
closer now
as if it was waking with him.
He shoved his shoes on and left the house quietly.
The streets were still half-asleep.
The dawn breeze was cold against his skin.
Each step felt uncertain.
But he kept walking.
Toward Dạ Nam Gym.
Toward the only person who said he wouldn't let him die.
Even if the man wanted or not.
---
The gym was already loud downstairs—
weights clanking, treadmills humming, music blasting.
But the second floor was silent.
Empty.
Except for him.
Lãnh Phong stood with his back turned, stretching slowly.
Every movement was smooth, silent, intentional.
He didn't turn when Minh approached.
Only said:
"You're on time."
Minh swallowed.
"Y-you'll help me… right…?"
Phong finally turned.
"I'll keep you from dying." His eyes were cold, uninterested. "Everything else… is on you."
He stepped closer.
"Stand straight."
Minh obeyed.
Phong placed two fingers on Minh's sternum—
the same pressure point from yesterday.
Minh tensed.
"The thing in your chest… isn't an illness." Phong spoke. "It's Khí trying to erupt without a center."
Minh shivered.
Phong pressed harder—
A spark shot through Minh's entire body.
He gasped.
Phong pulled his hand back.
"Good."
Minh blinked in confusion.
"Good… what…?"
Phong's tone remained flat.
"It means it's not too late."
He motioned to the empty training mat.
"Come here."
Minh walked, unsteady.
Phong stood directly in front of him.
"Before I do anything… you need to understand something."
Minh inhaled shakily.
Phong's eyes narrowed.
"Hạ Yên is not a friendly person."
Minh froze.
"She didn't send me here to help you. She sent me to keep you alive long enough…" Phong continued. "…for her research."
Minh's breath shattered.
"…What…?"
Phong didn't soften.
"Life isn't fair."
"But you want to live, right?"
Minh's hands trembled.
"…Yes…"
Phong exhaled.
"Then…"
He stepped behind Minh.
Placing a hand on Minh's back.
"We start with breath."
---
The second floor of Dạ Nam Gym was quiet—
the kind of quiet that made every inhale sound too loud.
Minh sat on the mat, knees weak, back damp with cold sweat.
Lãnh Phong stood behind him.
Arms folded.
Expression unreadable.
"Thẳng lưng lên."
("Straighten your back.")
Minh adjusted his posture, trembling.
Phong placed a single finger between Minh's shoulder blades.
"Người bình thường thở để sống."
("Normal people breathe to survive.")
His tone sharpened.
"Người có Khí… thở để điều khiển cơ thể."
("People with Khí… breathe to control their body.")
Minh swallowed.
"Y-you'll teach me?"
Phong didn't answer directly.
"I'll teach you what's needed so you don't die."
Then he knelt behind Minh.
"Close your eyes."
Minh did.
But breathing felt wrong—
like his ribs were locked.
Phong spoke softly, but firm:
"Hít vào."
("Inhale.")
Minh tried.
His chest spasmed.
"Not like that."
Phong placed his palm lightly on Minh's lower back.
"Hít từ bụng dưới. Chậm thôi."
("Breathe from your lower abdomen. Slowly.")
Minh attempted again.
A pulse shot through his ribs—
violent
sharp
unnatural.
He gasped.
Phong's eyes narrowed.
"Again."
Minh shook his head.
"I… I can't… it hurts too much…"
Phong grabbed Minh by the collar and pulled him upright.
Minh's breath caught.
"Hurt is good."
"Đau nghĩa là Khí đang nổi lên."
("Pain means Khí is surfacing.")
He released him.
"If you stop now… it will explode in a few days."
Minh's heart dropped.
"…explode…?"
Phong tapped his sternum.
"Ngay ở đây."
("Right here.")
The meaning hit Minh like a punch.
He forced himself upright.
"…Em… làm lại."
("…I'll try again.")
"Good."
---
Minh inhaled through clenched teeth.
A tremor shook his spine.
Something tugged deep inside him—
like a cord pulling the wrong direction.
He exhaled—
His chest jerked violently.
"AH—!!"
Phong caught him before he collapsed forward.
"Đừng thả hơi như vậy. Khí bị xé ra."
("Don't release the air like that. Your Khí is tearing.")
Minh clenched his fists.
"I… don't know how…"
Phong's expression didn't soften,
but his voice lowered half a tone.
"No one knows the first time."
"There's no talent in this."
"Chỉ có sống—hoặc chết."
("Only survival—or death.")
He placed his hand on Minh's lower back again.
"Follow my hand."
Phong inhaled—
slow
deep
controlled.
A faint pressure vibrated from his palm.
Not loud.
Not glowing.
Not cinematic.
Just… precise.
Minh's chest automatically followed the rhythm—
like his ribs remembered something ancient.
He exhaled—
This time smoothly.
Cleanly.
No tearing.
Phong nodded once.
"There."
Minh was shaking with relief.
"…I… did it…?"
Phong stood.
"Chưa."
("No.")
Minh blinked.
"You did it once."
"Do it two hundred more times."
Minh froze.
"T-two hundred…?"
Phong crossed his arms.
"Do you want to live?"
"…yes…"
"Then do it."
---
By the 47th repetition, Minh's vision blurred.
By the 63rd, his hands went numb.
At 89—
His chest spasmed, and he fell forward.
The whisper surged:
"ĐỪNG… CHỐNG… LẠI…"
("STOP… RESISTING…")
Minh clutched his face.
"Cút ra!! CÚT RA KHỎI ĐẦU TAO!!"
("Get out!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!")
Phong was beside him instantly.
"Minh. Focus."
But Minh didn't hear him.
His breath spiraled out of control—
fast
slow
fast
broken.
He screamed—
Not in pain.
In fear.
"I… can't control it…!!"
Phong grabbed his jaw and forced him to look up.
"Listen to me."
"Thứ trong đầu mày—không phải quỷ."
("The thing in your head—it's not a demon.")
"It's YOUR Khí."
Minh trembled violently.
Phong pressed two fingers against Minh's sternum again—
A shock of heat spread—
And Minh's breath snapped back into rhythm.
Like a fire suddenly smothered.
He collapsed, panting.
Phong stood.
"First session ends here."
Minh stared at the floor, exhausted.
Phong picked up his gym bag.
"Ngày mai, 6 giờ."
("Tomorrow, 6 AM.")
Minh weakly looked up.
"Do you… think I can survive…?"
Phong paused at the door.
Then said:
"If you give up—no."
"But if you crawl here every day—"
"—maybe."
The door closed behind him.
Minh sat alone.
Breathing.
For the first time—
It didn't hurt.