The Grinding Truth
Lee Jinwoo spent the next few days recovering, his bruises a harsh reminder that perfect technique meant nothing without force. Han Tae-seong had vanished again, but the looming threat was now personal.
His training with Minjun continued, but Jinwoo felt frustrated. Minjun was teaching him a slow, foundational climb to power—months of conditioning, lifting, and roadwork. Jinwoo didn't have months. He needed a shortcut to strength that only his Reflective Mimicry could provide.
He realized he had been copying movements and postures, but he hadn't copied the fundamental act of generating power—the explosive coordination that turns muscle into force.
To find it, he needed to observe someone who mastered raw, uncontrolled energy.
The Copy of Explosiveness
Jinwoo found his target not in a gym, but in the chaos of a local street basketball court.
A student from a vocational school, known only as "Rage", dominated the court. Rage wasn't refined, but he was a terrifying physical specimen—pure aggression and explosive momentum. He wasn't trained in martial arts, but his jumping, sprinting, and charging were fueled by unadulterated, primal athleticism.
Jinwoo sat on the highest bleacher, focusing his Mimicry not on the basketball moves, but on Rage's takeoff. Every time Rage drove to the basket, Jinwoo concentrated on the sudden, violent burst of coordinated muscle activation that propelled him forward.
Focus. The source of the explosion. The moment of ignition.
The headache that followed was the worst yet, a burning sensation in his spinal cord and chest. He was copying the fundamental nervous system command for Explosive Muscular Recruitment—the body's ability to fire all muscle fibers at once. It was a chaotic, dangerous blueprint to absorb.
When the pain cleared, Jinwoo's body felt strangely volatile. He could feel a latent, untapped energy thrumming just beneath his skin.
He now had four blueprints, a comprehensive fighter's kit:
1. Minjun's Striking Mechanics (Aim and Efficiency)
2. Minjun's Footwork Rhythm (Defense and Evasion)
3. Joo Hyuk's Core Stability (Structure and Redirection)
4. Rage's Explosive Recruitment (Raw Power Generation)
The Integrated Training
Jinwoo immediately went to a quiet, open park at midnight to test the new blueprint.
He adopted his boxing stance. He mentally triggered the Explosive Recruitment he'd copied.
It wasn't like flexing. It felt like flipping a switch. Every muscle in his leg and core instantly seized up, ready for launch. He threw a punch, coupling it with Minjun's Striking Mechanics and his own Core Stability.
WHOOSH.
The air cracked. It was a weak punch, but the sound was sharp, almost a whip-crack. The power was probably only 20% of Minjun's, but it was three times stronger than any punch Jinwoo had thrown before.
The cost, however, was high. His muscles screamed in protest, unused to such sudden, all-out activation. He fell to his knee, gasping. The blueprint works, he realized, but I have to build the physical capacity to handle the explosion.
From that night forward, Jinwoo's training became brutal. He wasn't just doing reps; he was performing perfect form reps—using his copied blueprints to execute every push-up, every squat, and every run with maximum efficiency and controlled explosiveness. He was forcing his scrawny body to grow at an accelerated, unnatural pace to match the perfect Echoes residing in his mind.
The Visit
The following week, Jinwoo's new, hardened physique was becoming noticeable—not muscle-bound like Tae-seong, but lean, dense, and tightly wired. His invisibility was fading.
One afternoon, Minjun caught him stretching on the rooftop.
"Your form is crazy, Jinwoo," Minjun admitted, sitting down. "You've learned more in two weeks than most guys learn in a year. But you're hiding something. Who did you piss off, really?"
Jinwoo hesitated, then offered a partial truth. "I ran into Tae-seong. He's why I need to train this fast."
Minjun's expression turned grim. "Tae-seong is bad news, but he's not the end of the line. The guys who really matter are the ones he answers to." Minjun lowered his voice. "You're getting strong, Jinwoo, strong enough that the King might not be able to handle you soon. When that happens, you'll meet the Four Major Crews. They control the city, not Tae-seong. And the King of the Crews—the one Tae-seong works for—is known as The Ghost."
Minjun paused, watching the city skyline. "You need to understand the world you're entering. You're fighting the local bullies now, but soon, you'll be fighting the city's hierarchy. You need more than just good punches for that."
The New Challenge
The conversation was abruptly cut short. From the edge of the rooftop, a cold, dry voice spoke.
"He won't make it that far, Minjun."
Standing in the doorway was a new figure. Not a brute, but a student with a sharp, almost unsettlingly intelligent look: Ryu Jae-wook. He was slight, wore glasses, and carried a thick, leather-bound notebook.
"I've been watching the new spectacle, Lee Jinwoo," Ryu Jae-wook stated, adjusting his glasses. "The way you move... it's mathematically impossible for your body. You're a mimic. A borrower."
Jinwoo felt a spike of terror. Someone knew his secret.
"Tae-seong's methods are clumsy," Jae-wook continued, stepping closer. "He uses strength. I use strategy and information. And my information tells me a perfect technique relies entirely on the opponent being surprised. You're about to run out of surprise."
Jae-wook dropped the leather notebook. It was a move designed to make Jinwoo flinch. As Jinwoo involuntarily tensed, Jae-wook moved. He didn't punch; he performed a dizzying, complex series of joint locks and holds—a lightning-fast Jiu-Jitsu submission chain.
Jinwoo, who had never seen the full motion before, could only react instinctively. He dodged the first grab using his copied footwork, but the speed and complexity of the chaining motion were too much. Jae-wook was on him instantly, his thin arm wrapping around Jinwoo's neck in a tight chokehold.
I have the blueprint for power, Jinwoo thought desperately, but I never copied a defense against a choke!
The lights were fading. Jinwoo had been defeated not by force, but by a technique he had never seen—a technique he couldn't copy until it was already too late.
"Welcome to the deeper game, Echo Striker," Jae-wook hissed, tightening the hold. "The Crews don't fight fair."