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Chapter 177

“Hahaha!”

The Commander of the Golden Guards, Song Chang-sik, burst into laughter after receiving the report from Doje-sik.

“As much as the discretion of educating trainees falls to the instructors, this is a first… I wish to know the Commander’s thoughts.”

What’s the reason for recruiting training instructors from different regions? It’s to absorb the experiences and techniques of those who have shown their prowess in the field or accumulated experience.

Given that, it’s not unusual for unique educators who step outside the mold to emerge. Even if someone has an impressive record and ample experience, they are still green as instructors.

However, Ho Cheon-an’s training was a series of shocking breakthroughs that even the fifteen-year-experienced Doje-sik could not fathom.

“Right. I understand what Instructor Doje-sik is trying to say, but hasn’t there been a particularly problematic situation yet?”

“That’s correct.”

“If any unusual aspects arise, report them, but for now, let’s just observe.”

“Understood!”

After Doje-sik left, Song Chang-sik chuckled, as if still lingering on the news about Ho Cheon-an.

“An-seong.”

“…Yes, Father.”

Song Chang-sik was a person who strictly separated work and personal matters. He rarely spoke of family issues unless it was urgent in the office, and he addressed Song An-seong primarily by his title rather than name.

“From tomorrow on, make time to watch that fellow, Ho Cheon-an, train.”

“Is that an order?”

“It is not an order. But that fellow’s actions are certainly out of the ordinary.”

“What do you mean by not ordinary?”

“You’re well aware of Unit Twelve. The martial arts there mostly consist of folks who are neither serious martial artists nor soldiers; hence, their foundation is bound to be a mess.”

“That’s true.”

“They’re rebuilding that foundation. Do you really think that can be done in just a month?”

“That seems quite difficult.”

The successful candidates for the Golden Guards are at least of elite level. This means they have a substantial foundation. To rebuild that…

Something flashed in Song An-seong’s mind.

“Could it be… is Ho Cheon-an aiming for this?”

“Ho? Explain this ‘this’ you speak of.”

“He’s restructuring from the very basics of martial arts… The intention is truly commendable, but to build a new tower, he would need to topple the one built so far.”

As Song Chang-sik nodded, Song An-seong gained a bit more confidence and elaborated.

“Even picky masters recognize those who have trained for three to five years as skilled artisans. To reach elite status, even the talented need years of training, and the average folks can spend up to ten years. Each trainee, regardless of their solidity or height, is a finished tower in itself.”

“Indeed.”

“Is this fellow intentionally trying to knock it all down?”

“That’s exactly right.”

Song Chang-sik erupted in laughter again.

“What a brilliant move! I don’t know how those trainees have been trained, but one thing is certain: their towers have reached a height sufficient to pass the Golden Guards’ exam. One month isn’t nearly enough to elevate that height beyond its original level, so their performance will certainly drop.”

“But… would the trainees just sit back?”

They’ve spent a long time honing their skills with blood, sweat, and tears. If they end up failing the exam and getting weaker, simply having the title of training instructor won’t prevent their rage.

“That’s exactly why I’m looking forward to it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look at what Ho Cheon-an has prepared. He’s crafted bizarre uniforms and devised an independent training regimen. And what’s more? He even took care of the trainees’ meals. If he’s gone to such lengths, how could he not have considered this?”

“…Indeed.”

“That fellow likely believes he can produce results the trainees will find acceptable within a month, which is why he’s doing this.”

“Hmm.”

Results the trainees will find acceptable. Song An-seong thought about what could potentially satisfy the trainees. Since they would inevitably get weaker and probably fail the Golden Guards’ selection exam in the short term, Ho Cheon-an had only one card to play.

Expectation.

He needed to instill in the trainees the conviction that, regardless of the current strength or the upcoming Golden Guards’ selection exam, this training would ultimately lead them to greater heights in the long run.

There was only one realistic way to instill that conviction.

To build a solid foundation quickly. That way, the trainees could experience the effectiveness of their current training while shaking off any anxiety about possibly failing the Golden Guards’ exam, fueling their dreams for the future.

“This is quite a challenge…”

At the same time, Song An-seong understood why Song Chang-sik wanted him to watch Ho Cheon-an. If he could manage to accomplish this difficult task, just observing that process would yield valuable insights.

“From tomorrow on, move quickly. They won’t consider you my son, so finding time to observe Ho Cheon-an won’t be easy.”

“Haha, whose son do you think I am? If I want to make time, I’ll certainly find a way. Just don’t complain later about how I’m not around.”

“What? Hahaha!”

“Hahaha!”

Laughter filled the Song household.

*

“During the march, we sing our military song! Torch of Liberation!”

“Yikes!”

“One, two, start!”

“Protecting this beautiful land!”

Three days passed. The trainees were somehow holding on. The concept that K-military philosophy says to simply roll with it ensured they had to adapt.

Beep! Beep-beep!

“Twenty whole-body twists for number eight!”

“Yikes!”

If someone with military experience had watched the Unit Twelve’s ‘Bloodbath Exercises,’ they might have wondered, “Isn’t the tempo too fast?”

Considering the trainees were martial artists, the rhythm was cranked up a notch! It was about 1.5 times the typical workout speed.

“This…”

Someone was desperately trying to control their mouth that was already shouting “twenty” but the sound had already reached their ears.

“Up! That’s forty! How many?”

“Forty!”

After that, they occasionally miscounted but managed to finish the Bloodbath Exercises. They had physically felt what happened if they didn’t maintain focus over the past three days.

At least they weren’t counting in the hundreds like the first day.

Still not satisfactory, but they were gradually speeding up, so it shouldn’t be long until they matched the morning training time. Today, they could manage about an hour for morning training, which was a huge improvement from wasting the entire morning on just the Bloodbath training on the first day.

“Break time now.”

“Yikes!”

Thud!

Like dominoes, the trainees collapsed. I stood with my arms crossed and began talking.

“Since it’s break time, just listen and don’t answer. After about a hundred breaths, we’ll practice the throwing technique autonomously. We’ll take time to get the real feel of throwing actual shurikens in preparation for the skill evaluation this afternoon.”

The trainees’ faces turned tense.

“I’m not so unreasonable as to overlook your levels. I only present objectives that you can achieve.”

The trainees’ expressions turned sullen. These guys—if it wasn’t break time, I’d have them doing push-ups. They should count themselves lucky.

“In the morning, you’ll get a feel for it through independent practice, but remember, there will be a skill evaluation this afternoon. The evaluation sets personal goals for each trainee. It will be a standing shooting session from five yards, aiming for the head or heart of the target. Five shurikens will be provided, and striking just one will count as a pass.”

The trainees’ faces darkened even more at the thought of the evaluation. At times like this, a little carrot was called for.

“Those who fail will practice shuriken techniques with me, while those who pass can train their own martial arts separately.”

Jo Ga-ju raised his hand.

“I have a question, Instructor.”

“What is it, Trainee Jo Ga-ju?”

“I’m curious about what it means to train your own martial arts separately.”

“Just as it sounds. You can practice whatever techniques you wish in the training hall. Of course, if I judge it’s not training but frivolity or resting, I can impose restrictions.”

The trainees’ gazes shifted. Well, compared to the bloodbath exercises, just practicing basic techniques would feel like paradise, so that’s their version of a carrot.

“Then let’s maintain a safe distance and proceed with independent training. Dismissed!”

“Yikes!”

Watching the trainees fervently rush to retrieve their target dummies filled me with motivation to move as well.

There was someone on my mind since earlier.

Song An-seong.

He had started appearing since yesterday, circling around the training grounds, or rather, around me and my unit whenever he had a moment. He came in short bursts, sometimes to observe for about an hour at a time.

I initially thought he was just watching the training, but today it seemed more like he was there to keep an eye on me.

“How’s the training going?”

“Yes. It’s quite enjoyable.”

Song An-seong greeted me with a pleased expression.

“Did all this training plan come from the external advisor?”

“I merely jotted down what came to mind.”

It seemed Song Chang-sik was quite curious about my training methods. Where did I learn the bloodbath exercises? Who thought of the chanting method, which seemed almost devilish? What about the intimidating uniforms; where were they used, etc.?

“Was there a particular reason to serve only chicken breast for meals?”

“If we provided whole chickens, wouldn’t that be better for the morale of the unit?”

Explaining the importance of protein to someone who doesn’t even understand carbohydrates? Isn’t that a bit too high of a bar to clear?

Song Chang-sik’s questions were all ones I struggled to answer. Who decided on the chant? I wish I knew. Where did I learn the bloodbath exercises? Ugh… My head.

Rather than fabricating stories for each of his questions, it was better to just remain silent.

“Just watch. The results will be shown through their physical transformation.”

“Oh, I see. That’s certainly…”

It seemed Song An-seong was quite impressed with how the bloodbath exercises and military songs appeared to yield good results.

“You’re quite remarkable to come up with such diverse military songs. Each one really embodies the spirit of the warriors and the majesty of the Imperial Army.”

He kept repeating the same lines.

“Ah, yes…”

Seeing Song An-seong fixated on military songs sent a chill down my spine.

Now that I think about it, this guy was our future ‘crack officer,’ right?

I had a strong premonition that someone with this persistent interest in specific elements would end up being a general who would lead many to shed tears of blood in the future.

“By the way, I heard you’re teaching shuriken techniques.”

“Yes. I thought it would be useful for self-defense.”

Since these trainees would eventually scatter to different fields, I figured it wasn’t a bad idea for them to learn at least one defensive martial art. It could come in handy at crucial moments.

Song An-seong and I briefly observed the trainees throwing shurikens.

“Urrah!”

Gwang Jae-ryeon threw with a resounding shout, executing an ambiguous motion that looked neither like a standing or sitting shot.

The shuriken traced perfect arcs toward the sky.

I’ll need to remind them that whoever loses a shuriken during practice will face dire consequences.

Surveying the other trainees, one word popped into my mind.

rabble.

None of the shurikens were coming close to the target. Except for Jae Sang-hae and Jo Gab-deok, it was almost embarrassing to even say they were throwing shurikens.

Seeing how cautious Song An-seong was, he cautiously asked,

“Um, do you think they can master the shuriken techniques to a practical level within a month?”

As throwing techniques or hidden weapons are fundamentally ranged attacks, accuracy is essential. Let’s be honest, in close combat, you can just swing wildly and hits will happen, but with ranged attacks, a slight miscalculation can lead to a significant error when distances increase. Hence, precise movements are a must, which requires considerable practice.

The reason techniques like hidden weapons or throwing arts are less common despite their usefulness is that they demand an extensive time investment to master. If you’re going to spend this much time, you might as well just learn another basic technique.

“It’s definitely feasible.”

“Oh? You seem quite confident.”

“Not so much confidence as I believe in what the trainees can achieve.”

Song An-seong seemed impressed by my words. I thought I might need to clarify, but before I could, he spoke up first.

“Indeed… you have great faith in your trainees. Building such a solid trust in just three days is impressive.”

“It’s not exactly trust…”

“Hahaha! There’s nothing to be embarrassed about! Oh dear! I wish to see more, but it seems time has escaped us. I will return later.”

I watched Song An-seong’s disappearing figure, feeling he had expectations for my unit, yet I couldn’t quite grasp what those expectations were. It didn’t seem like he was hoping for a miraculous turn of events where an underperforming unit suddenly succeeds.

“Alright, alright!”

It seemed even leisurely thoughts were a luxury now.

I turned my foot to give Gwang Jae-ryeon a piece of my mind for yet another shuriken flying into the stars.


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