An instructor, a lean and wiry man with the sharp eyes of a seasoned scout, stepped into the center of the arena. This was Instructor Zane, responsible for overseeing the Prime Division's combat evaluations.
"Welcome to the first Ranking Spar of the semester," Zane announced, his voice cutting through the chatter. "The rules are simple. You will be matched randomly by the system. Victory is achieved when your opponent surrenders or is judged incapable of continuing by me. Lethal force is forbidden. This is an evaluation of skill, not a deathmatch. Your performance here will set your initial internal rank. Do not disappoint me."
He gestured to the large holographic screen on the wall. It flickered to life, names shuffling rapidly before settling on the first pairing.
[Match 1: Goliath (4th Year) vs. Leo (2nd Year)]
The boisterous axe wielder, Goliath, let out a booming laugh. "A good warm-up!" he roared, striding into the arena. His opponent, a smaller, quicker-looking boy with daggers, gulped nervously.
The match was brutal and short. Goliath was a hurricane of pure, overwhelming force. He wasn't technically brilliant, but his strength was absolute. He weathered a few quick slashes from Leo before bringing his massive war axe down in a devastating overhead chop that cracked the arena floor. Leo surrendered before the axe could connect.
Match after match followed a similar pattern. The upperclassmen, with their higher levels and more developed skills, systematically dismantled the younger students. Yuna, the ice swordswoman, won her match without taking a single step. She simply created a field of razor-sharp ice shards around her opponent, forcing a surrender.
Jin Park watched every match with an unnerving focus. He wasn't watching the spectacle; he was absorbing data. He analyzed Yuna's control over her ice, Goliath's predictable but powerful attack patterns, a third-year's defensive barrier skill. He was a predator studying the herd, deciding which one offered the most succulent prize.
His gaze kept returning to one student in particular. A quiet, unassuming first-year like himself, named Ren. Ren had won his match in a strange, anticlimactic way. His opponent, a powerful fire mage, had suddenly stumbled as he was about to cast a major spell, his mana fizzling out, allowing Ren to simply walk up and tap him on the shoulder for the win. No one understood what had happened.
But Jin Park saw it. His System Weaver talent allowed him to perceive the subtle rules of mana in the air. Ren hadn't attacked his opponent. He had attacked his opponent's spell. He possessed a rare and insidious ability to interfere with the mana of others.
That, Muyeong thought, a cold spark of interest flashing in his mind. That is a priceless tool.
Finally, the screen shuffled again. The entire room went quiet as the names appeared, a palpable sense of anticipation in the air.
[Match 8: Jin Park (1st Year) vs. Marcus (2nd Year)]
A wave of pitying groans and outright snickers swept through the students. Marcus was a second-year with a solid combat record. His Job was Iron Fist Brawler, and his talent, Kinetic Charge (Rare), allowed him to store kinetic energy from his movements to empower his next strike. He was a straightforward, powerful fighter.
Marcus himself let out a sigh of disappointment. "Seriously? I get the Chef?" he grumbled to his friends. "This is a waste of time." He strode into the arena, cracking his knuckles, his hands already glowing faintly with stored energy.
Jin Park walked to his position, his reinforced skillet held loosely in one hand. He looked completely out of place.
"Alright, kid," Marcus said condescendingly. "Let's get this over with. Just surrender now and save us both the trouble. I'd rather not dent your frying pan."
Jin Park didn't respond. He simply gave a slight nod to Instructor Zane, indicating he was ready.
Zane sighed. "Begin!"
Marcus charged. He wasn't as overwhelmingly strong as Goliath, but he was fast and aggressive. He threw a right hook, his fist glowing with the power of his Kinetic Charge talent. It was a blow that could shatter stone.
The students watching expected Jin Park to be sent flying.
Instead, something completely unexpected happened. Jin Park met the punch not with a block, but with a precise, almost casual tap from the flat of his skillet. He didn't use Power Strike. He used pure, unadulterated technique. The angle was perfect, deflecting the kinetic energy of the punch harmlessly to the side. The force that should have shattered his bones was negated with a simple, elegant motion.
CLANG!
The sound of a super-powered fist hitting a frying pan echoed in the silent arena. Marcus stumbled, his empowered punch thrown completely off balance. He stared at Jin Park, his arrogant smirk replaced by confusion.
"What...?"
He didn't get to finish the thought. Jin Park flowed forward, closing the distance. He moved with the eerie efficiency he'd used on the training dummy. His skillet became a blur. It wasn't a weapon of power; it was a weapon of disruption.
He didn't aim for Marcus's head or chest. He swung the pan in a low, swift arc, activating his Chop skill, and slammed the heavy iron into Marcus's knee joint.
Marcus roared in pain and surprise, his leg buckling. Before he could recover, Jin Park struck again, this time with the edge of the pan against the brawler's wrist, forcing him to drop his fighting stance. Every move was aimed at a joint, a nerve cluster, a weak point. He was systematically dismantling his opponent.
The other students watched, their jaws agape. This wasn't a fight. It was a butchering. The "Chef" was breaking down the "Brawler" piece by piece, just like he would an animal carcass in his kitchen. The brutal, direct strikes were interspersed with disorienting taps and parries that threw off Marcus's rhythm completely.
Marcus, enraged and humiliated, swung wildly. "Stand and fight me!" he roared.
Jin Park sidestepped a clumsy punch and, in a final, decisive move, swung the skillet in a powerful uppercut, slamming the flat iron base directly under Marcus's chin.
The impact snapped Marcus's head back. His eyes rolled up, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Silence.
The entire Prime Division stared, speechless. The culinary prodigy, the joke of the division, had just flawlessly defeated a powerful second-year brawler using nothing but a frying pan. He hadn't used a single flashy skill or an ounce of overwhelming power. It was pure, terrifying, and utterly baffling technique.
Jin Park stood over his unconscious opponent, his expression calm, his breathing even. He turned to the stunned Instructor Zane and gave a slight bow.
Then he looked out at the silent crowd of students, his gaze lingering for a moment on the quiet first-year, Ren. The message was sent. He wasn't a joke. He was an anomaly.
And he was still shopping.