The weekly sparring session for outer disciples was a brutal, simple affair. Held in the dusty central yard, it was less about instruction and more about weeding out the weak. Disciples paired off, and Senior Disciple Han watched with a bored expression, occasionally barking corrections.
Lee Jin stood at the very back, a ghost among the crowd. His heart thumped a steady, eager rhythm against his ribs. This was his target. Not Han, not yet. But a proving ground.
His eyes scanned the pairings, the system's analysis flickering over each disciple.
[Target: Outer Disciple Kwan]
- Skills: Silent Moon Fist (Competent - Aggressive Variant), Basic Footwork (Novice)
- Flaws: Overcommits on right cross, lower stance unstable.
Kwan was a broad, scowling boy known for his temper and reliance on brute force. He'd been one of the many who'd tossed insults Lee Jin's way for years. He was the perfect test.
As the pairs formed, Lee Jin deliberately shifted, ending up across from Kwan. A few disciples snickered. Kwan's scowl deepened into a cruel smile.
"The trash wants to play?" he cracked his knuckles. "I'll put you back in the infirmary."
Senior Disciple Han glanced over, his eyes narrowing slightly at Lee Jin, but he said nothing. The rule was simple: fight until yield or incapacitation.
The gong sounded.
Kwan charged immediately, a bull with fists. He threw a wild, powerful right cross, exactly as the system predicted. Lee Jin didn't block. He used the Basic Footwork he'd copied from a dozen different sources—not flashy, but efficient. He sidestepped, the wind of the punch ruffling his hair.
Kwan stumbled, thrown off by the miss. Before he could recover, Lee Jin struck.
It wasn't the Falling Petal Stroke. It was the Silent Moon Fist.
His movement was economical. He didn't telegraph. His body, now tempered by creek-side stones and bitter herbs, pivoted from the ground up. The faint thread of qi in his dantian sparked, shot down his cleared meridian, and encapsulated his fist.
Thud.
The punch landed cleanly on Kwan's exposed side, just below the ribs. It wasn't a knockout blow. But it was correct. Perfectly timed, perfectly placed. The qi shell delivered a sharp, penetrating jolt that bypassed much of Kwan's muscle.
Kwan's eyes bulged. A pained oof escaped his lips. He staggered back, more from shock than force.
The surrounding murmurs died. Everyone had expected Lee Jin to crumple.
Lee Jin didn't press. He reset into the opening stance, his breathing controlled. The One Moon Circulation hummed inside him, already beginning to replenish the tiny bit of qi he'd used.
Enraged, Kwan came again, more cautious now, throwing a combination. Lee Jin weaved, blocked a jab with a forearm, and once again found his opening—a slight drop in Kwan's guard as he prepared another heavy swing.
Tap. Thwack.
Two precise strikes. A quick jab to the shoulder to disrupt balance, followed by a short, sharp cross to the chest. Again, that faint silver flicker on impact.
Kwan grunted, stumbling backwards until he hit the dusty ground. He sat there, wheezing, more confused and humiliated than seriously hurt.
The yard was silent. Senior Disciple Han was now fully attentive, his bored look replaced by sharp scrutiny. He stared at Lee Jin's stance, at his poised fists.
"Enough," Han said, his voice cutting the quiet. "Lee Jin. Your form… where did you learn that precision?"
All eyes were on him. Lee Jin lowered his hands. "By watching, Senior Brother. And by practicing." It was the same half-truth, but now it carried weight.
Han's gaze was like a physical pressure. He saw the lack of flashy power, but he couldn't deny the technical perfection. It was disconcerting. "A parrot can mimic a song," he finally sneered, but the conviction was weak. "Do not let a lucky spar go to your head. Kwan, get up. You're a disgrace."
As the session resumed, the atmosphere around Lee Jin had changed. The open sneers were gone, replaced by wary, confused glances. He was no longer invisible. He was a question mark.
Walking back to his hovel that evening, a new prompt glowed, not from a person, but from the system itself.
[Milestone Reached: First Public Victory.]
[Analysis: Combat data from sparring match integrated. 'Silent Moon Fist' adaptability increased.]
[New Recommendation: Target higher-value skill. Suggestion: 'Moonlight Step' (Movement Art) from Senior Disciple Han. Required for spatial dominance in combat.]
Lee Jin looked up at the twilight sky, where the first pale hint of the moon was visible. A question mark was better than trash. A question mark could move unseen, could learn, could grow.
He had proven his fist could land. Now, he needed to learn how to choose where, and when, to stand. The next skill was already in his sights. The game was advancing.