The Hwang estate stood far above the crowded markets of the lower city.
High stone walls surrounded the sprawling compound, separating it from the noise and dust of the common districts. Inside those walls the streets were wide and clean, the air quiet except for the distant sounds of training and the soft movement of servants carrying trays or bundles between the buildings.
At the center of the estate lay the main training courtyard.
The ground was paved with large slabs of polished stone, each one scarred with faint cracks from years of martial practice. Wooden weapon racks lined the edges of the yard while several stone training pillars stood upright like silent sentinels.
A small group of young disciples had gathered near the center of the courtyard.
They stood in a loose circle, their expressions tense as they watched the man standing opposite them.
Hwang Jinhyuk.
He stood alone.
Tall, straight-backed, his long dark hair tied loosely behind him, his noble robes hanging neatly from his shoulders despite the dust of training. His expression carried a calm confidence that bordered on boredom, as though the entire exercise had already lost his interest before it began.
Across from him, three disciples tightened their grips on their weapons.
One of them shifted his footing nervously.
“Are you ready, Young Master?” he asked.
Jinhyuk tilted his head slightly.
“If you need to ask,” he said calmly, “then you are not.”
The three disciples exchanged a quick glance before lunging forward together.
Steel flashed in the sunlight as their blades cut through the air.
For an instant the courtyard filled with motion.
Then it ended.
A faint crimson glow rippled across Jinhyuk’s arm.
Nyros resonance surged through his body like a pulse of violent energy.
He moved.
The first disciple barely saw the strike before Jinhyuk’s fist slammed into his stomach. The young man’s body folded instantly, the air leaving his lungs in a strangled gasp as he collapsed onto the stone.
The second disciple swung wildly, trying to recover the momentum of the attack.
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Jinhyuk stepped inside the arc of the blade and drove his elbow into the man’s ribs. The crack of impact echoed across the courtyard as the disciple staggered backward and fell.
The third barely had time to react.
Jinhyuk grabbed him by the collar and flung him across the courtyard like a sack of grain. The disciple struck the ground hard and rolled several times before finally coming to a stop.
Silence settled over the courtyard.
The entire exchange had lasted less than three seconds.
Several watching disciples swallowed nervously.
One of the fallen men groaned and tried to push himself up from the stone.
Jinhyuk watched him.
Then he smiled.
It was not a friendly smile.
A slow, crooked grin spread across his face as he walked toward the struggling disciple.
The man managed to lift himself onto one knee.
“Y-young master—”
Jinhyuk kicked him.
The impact sent the disciple crashing back onto the ground.
The grin never left his face.
Another of the fallen disciples tried to crawl away.
Jinhyuk stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar, lifting him slightly before slamming him back into the stone pavement. The dull crack of bone against stone echoed across the courtyard as the young man cried out in pain.
The watching disciples shifted uncomfortably.
One of the older servants cleared his throat cautiously.
“Young master,” he said carefully, “perhaps that is enough for today.”
Jinhyuk glanced at him.
The grin faded slightly, though the cold amusement remained in his eyes.
“If they cannot endure this much,” he said calmly, “then they should not train in my courtyard.”
The servant lowered his head immediately.
“Yes, young master.”
The disciple beneath Jinhyuk’s boot struggled weakly.
Jinhyuk finally stepped away.
The faint crimson glow around his body faded as the Nyros resonance settled.
He adjusted the sleeve of his robe with casual indifference, as though the entire scene had been nothing more than a mild distraction.
Footsteps approached the entrance of the courtyard.
Seo Hyunmin hurried inside.
His robes were slightly disheveled, and a faint redness still lingered on his face from earlier in the day. He slowed as soon as he noticed the bodies scattered across the stone floor.
The disciples groaned quietly where they lay.
Hyunmin hesitated.
For a moment he seemed unsure whether approaching was wise.
Jinhyuk noticed him anyway.
Without turning fully, he spoke.
“What do you want?”
Hyunmin straightened slightly.
“Young Master Hwang,” he said, forcing confidence into his voice.
Jinhyuk glanced at him briefly.
Then his eyes returned to the courtyard.
“You look upset,” he said.
Hyunmin’s jaw tightened.
“There was… an incident in the market.”
Jinhyuk did not react.
Hyunmin stepped closer.
“A beggar attacked me.”
One of the nearby disciples chuckled weakly before quickly covering his mouth.
Jinhyuk’s expression remained unchanged.
“A beggar,” he repeated.
Hyunmin clenched his fists.
“Yes.”
Jinhyuk wiped a faint streak of dust from his knuckles.
“And?”
Hyunmin hesitated.
The watching servants had grown very quiet.
“He humiliated me,” Hyunmin finally said.
Jinhyuk looked at him again.
For the first time there was a hint of interest in his gaze.
“How?”
Hyunmin swallowed.
“He… forced me to kneel.”
The courtyard fell completely silent.
Jinhyuk stopped moving.
For a moment he simply stood there.
Then a slow smile began to return.
“A beggar,” he said quietly, “forced a noble to kneel… in the street?”
Hyunmin lowered his head.
“Yes, young master.”
The sinister grin spread across Jinhyuk’s face once more.
“Interesting.”
He turned fully toward Hyunmin now.
“What was his name?”
Hyunmin hesitated.
“They called him… Chunma.”
Jinhyuk chuckled softly.
The sound carried no humor.
“Bring me this beggar,” he said.
The grin remained on his face.
“I would very much like to meet him.”
