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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Fine Words on Arrival Bring Fine Words on Departure
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After filling my stomach with a simple meal, I looked into a few things. Today was March 6th, the fourth day since enrollment. The entrance ceremony had barely wrapped up before the weekend hit, so this was our first real class.
'Even that got brushed off half-assed.'
Classes at the Academy weren't all that important. The Korean Hero Academy was just the novel's backdrop—trivial stuff like school life wasn't needed.
I checked my body's condition. I tested things one by one to see just how far I could push it. It was essential; knowing my limits ahead of time meant I could use them right where it counted.
I had a rough idea from the novel's descriptions. But feeling it for real was on a whole different level. The sheer superiority of my physical abilities left me in awe, right down to my skin.
'This body is straight-up insane!'
The protagonist, Lee Do-jun, was all about offense. He put the art of one-strike kills into practice with his Evil-attribute spirit, Demonis. Mutual destruction was another way to put it.
Black Johnson Anaconda was the total opposite. Made to cover for Lee Do-jun's weak defense, it all clicked once I thought of him that way—pure defensive powerhouse.
His spirits were all specialized for defense. That didn't mean his raw physical stats were lacking, though.
I could take on dozens of cadet kids without breaking a sweat. Bare-handed, no spirits, against East Asian standards? Seventeen or so seemed doable.
Then factor in the spirits' power. An impenetrable shield—that was Black Johnson Anaconda in a nutshell. No further explanation needed; the original story vouched for it.
"ImpressiveYo."
A foreign voice slipped from my mouth. Staring at my reflection, a Black guy let out a sigh of admiration.
Dark-skinned but glossy. Wet from the water, it gleamed with a sheen. Gazing at that solid lower body filled me with pointless pride, and a grin crept onto my face.
How big was it, exactly? Curiosity about my body kicked in. I grabbed my smartphone and flipped on the VPN.
"Mother Fucking Korea. What a goddamn shitty country."
No matter how much I cursed, it came out filtered. Black Johnson wasn't the type to swear, after all. But the censorship on Korean porn? That slipped right through unscathed.
"Guess even Black Johnson's that pissed offYo."
I got Black Johnson's dick hard. Blood rushed into the hefty thing, swelling it up slow and steady. Fully erect, stiff as a board—it was overwhelming just looking at the size.
"Holy, Shitttt…!"
I gripped it with my hand. No bullshit, no exaggeration—the girth was damn near soda can levels. Length? A good inch and a half past a handspan. Black Johnson's handspan, that is.
'If I shoved this in… she'd probably get her womb ruptured on the spot?'
It was too fucking big. But I wasn't one to give up. This was a novel world, after all—dick size didn't matter.
The heroines' pussies were probably legendary, adjusting perfectly to their partner. Big? They'd take it all. Small? They'd squeeze just right.
'I'll cross that bridge when I shove it in.'
Jumping the gun when I hadn't even bagged a heroine yet was ridiculous. I kept testing Black Johnson's stamina and endurance.
Explosive power; link up the spirits, and I'd be unstoppable. Destruction wasn't his forte compared to the others, but it wasn't lacking either.
'Not purely defensive, then.'
Black Johnson held back on attacks because of his personality. He didn't want to hurt anyone, so he avoided violence.
But I wasn't him. Wasting this superior physique would be idiotic. Use it right, and I'd snag way more gains than in the original novel.
The sun was dipping just right. Dinner time had passed—around seven in the evening.
I left the dorms and headed for the Training Center. Cadet training grounds, in other words.
The grounds near the dorm complex were open spaces for cadets to train freely, available around the clock all year round.
'There's a reason I'm coming at this hour.'
I'd use the novel's info without getting hung up on the plot. Heading to the training grounds to create a connection point with Gong Su-ji, based on what I knew.
Cadets training inside came into view. Some building strength, others bonding with their spirits—they were making full use of the place.
"Hey, that her? Gong Su-ji?"
A guy and girl whispering and gossiping from a sloppy perch on a bench. I tuned into their voices as I passed.
"Gotta be. No one else has water-blue hair."
"Heard she has dual attributes. Water and wind."
"Who knows what else she's hiding. Girls with sneaky faces like that always got a dagger up their sleeve."
The girl was hostile toward Gong Su-ji. Not a first-year—looked like a second-year. The guy tilted his head, eyeing her face.
"Sneaky? Her? You're the one who looks sneakier."
"What? You fucking bitch!"
The pair tussled, trading light punches. Looked like fighting, but it wasn't— no real emotion behind the blows.
Gong Su-ji was training with her spirits in one of the private bonding rooms deeper in. Using spirit power drained stamina and mental energy, so few cadets bothered.
Everyone was peeking at Gong Su-ji's session. She could've locked it down private, but she didn't seem to care—full display.
Water droplets bloomed like flowers. The ones stitching the air took on living shapes, animal forms hurtling toward targets.
'Each spirit has its own temperament. Power manifests in all sorts of ways.'
Spirits were just the setting. Mana by another name, really. How you wielded it came down to the character's skill.
Her power was still weak. Talent not fully bloomed, so limited output. The water beasts Gong Su-ji shaped were sparrow-sized at best.
'Water-attribute spirits dig shaping; wind ones love unleashing.'
Straight from the original. One delicate, the other brute-force simple. Harmonizing them wasn't easy.
Reason Gong Su-ji used them separately.
"What the hell you all staring at?"
Yoo Ji-hyuk stormed in, radiating menace. A few cadets trailing him barked at the others, chasing away the Gong Su-ji spectators.
The cadets scowled but scattered like roaches. No upside to tangling with Yoo Ji-hyuk—no hesitation.
"You…."
Yoo Ji-hyuk glared up at me, eyes bulging. I didn't budge at his words, so he started radiating his aura outright.
'…He's a spoiled rich kid too, but unlike the heroines, no real talent.'
Yoo Ji-hyuk's rep came from his mom, the Warlord Na Yu-ran. The Oseong House rode on her shoulders alone, no exaggeration. He obsessed over other stuff, sure.
His own abilities? Lacking. Inferior to Black Johnson across the board. Especially handling Fire-attribute spirits like Dokgo Hwaryeon—night and day.
Exaggerate a bit, and it was like three heads' worth of difference. I stared down at Yoo Ji-hyuk, unflinching.
Black men don't know fear. Harlem, gangs, guns, drugs—friends. No way I'd flinch from some punk kid.
"You fucking nigger…!"
"Eyes down?"
His overzealous lackeys crossed the line. No sense of place, shoving my shoulder. Showing off strength, bravado.
Attention that should've gone to Lee Do-jun shifted to me. Came to build ties with Gong Su-ji, ended up tangled with Yoo Ji-hyuk's crew.
Speaking of—Lee Do-jun was back there. Here for a workout, looked like. Original target switched. Not him—me, Black Johnson.
'Should I back off?'
Yoo Ji-hyuk sneered, glaring. What can a punk like you do? His bodyguards' skills gave him confidence.
"Who you looking at? You eyeing Su-ji with those eyes? Fucking slave…!"
I glanced at Gong Su-ji in the private room. She scowled, pulling back her spirits. Right then, Yoo Ji-hyuk's sharp voice cut in.
"What'd you just call me? Slave?"
"Yeah, you Black fuck. Been pissing me off since class. Your eyes…!"
Yoo Ji-hyuk trembled with rage. Guess my stares were too obvious. I'd be sneakier next time.
"Okay, I don't object."
Linked with Iron. My fist morphed into iron. Spirit link—borrow the element's power. I was Iron Man, Iron Punch right now.
'Original plot doesn't matter anyway.'
To steal Gong Su-ji, I'd hijack Lee Do-jun's steps. Do what he was supposed to.
Evil spirit rampage? That kicked in after he connected with a heroine and built affection. No prior ties, no NTR vibes.
'Strike first here.'
Branch point. Chance to veer into unknown story. No backing down. Original plot? Already fucked. Might as well wreck it now or later.
"Income Horse, Return Horse."
"What? Speak English, slave!"
Yoo Ji-hyuk bellowed. He was the ignorant one—why vent at me?
"What're you waiting for? Kill this fucker! Show him Korea's wrath!"
"Mother Fucking Korea, the terrifying country where you can't even watch porn."
His goons charged at his order. All big bruisers, bulky frames blocking my view.
"You study abroad, act quiet. Don't piss off Ji-hyuk."
"Today's your funeral. Know what that is? Like your African rituals."
"Bite down hard—gonna lose teeth!"
Linked up, but they couldn't tell. Dark skin hid the iron fist. Pitiful, charging blind.
"One Punch Three…."
One Punch Three Corn, no—
"Three Head."
I swung a massive right hook. Three jaws shattered in rapid succession. The impact thrilled even me, goosebumps rising.